His inquiries had satisfied him that no green diamond of the size and value attributed to the Great Hara had either been seen or heard of in the London market during the last twenty years.  It still remained to test the foreign markets in the same way.  Mr. Madgin’s idea was that this work could be done better by some trustworthy agent well acquainted with the trade than by himself.  He accordingly left instructions with an eminent diamond merchant to have all needful inquiries made at Paris, Amsterdam, and St. Petersburg, as to whether such a stone as the Great Hara had come under the cognizance of the trade any time during the last twenty years.  The result of the inquiry was to be communicated to Mr. Madgin by letter.

Next day Mr. Madgin journeyed down to Windermere.  Arrived at Bowness, he found no difficulty in ascertaining the exact locality of Bon Repos, the house and its owner being known by sight or repute to almost every inhabitant of the little town.  Mr. Madgin stopped all night at Bowness.  Next morning he hired a small boat, and was pulled across the lake to a point about half a mile below Bon Repos, and there he landed.

Mr. Madgin was travelling incog.  The name upon his portmanteau was “Joshua Deedes, Esq.”  He was dressed in a suit of glossy black, with a white neck-cloth, and gold-rimmed spectacles.  He had quite an episcopal air.  He did not call himself a clergyman, but people were at liberty to accept him as one if they chose.

Assisted by the most unimpeachable of malaccas, Mr. Madgin took the high-road that wound round the grounds of Bon Repos.  But so completely was the house hidden in its nest of greenery that the chimney-pots were all of it that was visible from the road.  But under a spur of the hill by which the house was shut in at the back, Mr. Madgin found a tiny hamlet of a dozen houses, by far the most imposing of which was the village inn—­hotel, it called itself, and showed to the world the sign of The Jolly Fishers.  Into this humble hostelry Mr. Madgin marched without hesitation, and called for some refreshment.  So impressed was the landlord with the clerical appearance of his guest that he whipped off his apron, ushered him into the state parlour, and made haste to wait upon him himself.  He, the guest, had actually called for a bottle of the best dry sherry, and when the landlord took it in he invited him to fetch another glass, and come and join him over it.  Mr. Joshua Deedes was a tourist—­well-to-do, without doubt; the landlord could see as much as that—­and having never visited Lakeland before, he was naturally delighted with the freshness and novelty of everything that he saw.  The change from London life was so thorough, so complete in every respect, that he could hardly believe he had left the great Babel no longer ago than yesterday.  It seemed years since he had been there.  He had thought Bowness a charming spot, but this little nook surpassed Bowness, inasmuch as it was still farther removed and shut out from the frivolities and follies of the great world.  Here one was almost alone with Nature and her wondrous works.  Then Mr. Deedes filled up his own glass and that of the landlord.