“I’m a miner,” he said.  “I’m just home from Australia, where I’ve been huntin’ diamonds for the last ten years.  I’ve made a pretty good haul, and sold most of ’em in London on my way home.  I had a few dandy ones cut there, though, to bring back to my gal; but—­but—­well, to tell the plain truth,” he said, with some confusion, “she’s gone back on me; she couldn’t wait for me, so married another fellar; and now I want to sell the stones.  D’ye want to buy?”

There was something rather attractive, as well as amusing, in the man’s frankness, and the merchant smiled, as he kindly remarked that he would examine the stones.

The miner thereupon pulled out a small leather bag from one of the pockets of his trousers, unwound the strong thong at its throat, and rattled out upon the counter several loose glittering diamonds of various sizes.

The merchant could hardly repress a cry of astonishment, for they were remarkable for their purity and brilliancy, while there were two among the collection of unusual size.

He examined them critically, and took plenty of time about it, while the miner leaned indifferently against the counter, his hands in his pockets, and gazed absently out of the window.

“What do you value these stones at?” the merchant finally inquired, as he removed the glass from his eye and turned to the man.

“Wall, I don’t suppose it would make much difference what my price might be,” he drawled; “I know they’re about as good ones as anybody would care to see, and you know about what you’d be willin’ to give.”

“Yes; but I would like to know what value you put upon them before I make an offer,” responded Mr. Cohen, shrewdly.

“Wall, before I found out about the gal, I wouldn’t a’ sold ’em at any price,” was the rather gloomy response, “fur I’d promised ’em to her, ye know; but now—­so’s I get what’s reasonable, I don’t care much what becomes on ’em.  What’ll ye give?  I’ll trust to yer honor in the matter.”

The jeweler had been watching the man closely while he was speaking, although he appeared to be thinking deeply of the purchase of the gems.

“I—­do not think that I am prepared to set a price on them just at this moment,” he at length thoughtfully remarked.  “As far as I can judge, they are very fine stones and well cut; still, I am not an expert, although a dealer in such things, and I should like to submit them to one before making you an offer.”

“All right,” was the hearty and unhesitating reply, “that’s fair, and I’m agreeable.  Bring on your expert.”

“Are you going to be in the city long?” asked the merchant.

“Wall, no; I didn’t calkerlate on staying any longer’n I could turn the stones into money,” the man said.  “My old mother lives up to Brownsville, and I thought of goin’ up to make her a little visit—­han’t seen her fur ten years.  Then I’m going back to the mines, since I han’t no reason to hang around these parts now,” with a bitter emphasis on the last word.