The answer was a thunderbolt from a blue sky.  “No, here in London; last night as ever was; before myself and Dr. Gray; and about to be exhibited by the President himself at a meeting of Fellows of the Royal Society.”

Charles drew a long breath.  “This nonsense must be stopped,” he said firmly—­“it must be nipped in the bud.  It won’t do, my dear friend; we can’t have such tampering with important Interests.”

“How do you mean?” Cordery asked, astonished.

Charles gazed at him steadily.  I could see by the furtive gleam in my brother-in-law’s eye he was distinctly frightened.  “Where is the fellow?” he asked.  “Did he come himself, or send over a deputy?”

“Here in London,” Sir Adolphus replied.  “He’s staying at my house; and he says he’ll be glad to show his experiments to anybody scientifically interested in diamonds.  We propose to have a demonstration of the process to-night at Lancaster Gate.  Will you drop in and see it?”

Would he “drop in” and see it?  “Drop in” at such a function!  Could he possibly stop away?  Charles clutched the enemy’s arm with a nervous grip.  “Look here, Cordery,” he said, quivering; “this is a question affecting very important Interests.  Don’t do anything rash.  Don’t do anything foolish.  Remember that Shares may rise or fall on this.”  He said “Shares” in a tone of profound respect that I can hardly even indicate.  It was the crucial word in the creed of his religion.

“I should think it very probable,” Sir Adolphus replied, with the callous indifference of the mere man of science to financial suffering.

Sir Charles was bland, but peremptory.  “Now, observe,” he said, “a grave responsibility rests on your shoulders.  The Market depends upon you.  You must not ask in any number of outsiders to witness these experiments.  Have a few mineralogists and experts, if you like; but also take care to invite representatives of the menaced Interests.  I will come myself—­I’m engaged to dine out, but I can contract an indisposition; and I should advise you to ask Mosenheimer, and, say, young Phipson.  They would stand for the mines, as you and the mineralogists would stand for science.  Above all, don’t blab; for Heaven’s sake, let there be no premature gossip.  Tell Schleiermacher not to go gassing and boasting of his success all over London.”

“We are keeping the matter a profound secret, at Schleiermacher’s own request,” Cordery answered, more seriously.

“Which is why,” Charles said, in his severest tone, “you bawled it out at the very top of your voice in Piccadilly!”

However, before nightfall, everything was arranged to Charles’s satisfaction; and off we went to Lancaster Gate, with a profound expectation that the German professor would do nothing worth seeing.