the larder beside a piece of bacon—also a
good place to slip him into—though a goose-berry
tart, if it would keep, would perhaps be
better still. Oh, what a world of care and
sleepless anxiety all this cost me, no words
can relate!

Let nobody imagine that my days were
thus spent ingloriously in the mere question
of hiding my prize; no—there was another
equally, indeed a still more important subject
that demanded the utmost reach of my intellectual
faculties. I had got the greatest
Treasure of the earth—but what on earth was
I to do with it? The more I thought of this,
and the more schemes I devised, the more
difficult, dangerous, and almost impossible
did it appear. It had been declared to be
worth two millions of money—that was its reputed
value, though many said that it was
priceless, and no sum could be affixed. Now,
I had quite made up my mind not to be
greedy and exacting on this score. I would
take one million for it. Very well. The next
thing was—who had a million to give? It
must be purchased, then, by some great prince,
or by several great jewellers. Perhaps a Company
might be formed—No, all this was
wild and visionary. I knew not what to do.
I had, one night, walked up and down in front
of Bundle and Bridges for three hours,
looking most wistfully at the house, and at
every window, with a vague sort of hope that
some good thought might come to me. I at
length fell into a deep reverie, near the street-door,
when the door suddenly opening to let
out a visitor, I instantly took to my heels in a
panic of dismay. My mind, it was clear, was
too vivid and apprehensive to have embarked
in such a business as this alone. I ought to
have been associated with some one of colder
and more phlegmatic temperament.

This same night—it was about half-past
twelve by the time I reached my house—I
found Bob Styles sitting on the step of the
door, smoking. I spoke rather sharply to him,
but he made no answer for some time. He
then took the pipe from his mouth—knocked
out the ashes—and said, with his tongue
thrust into his cheek, "I tell-e what it is,
Mister Zimeon Sparks, I wants a underd
pown'—and that's all about it."

"A hundred pounds!" said I.

"A underd pown'!" says he.

"Then," said I to myself, "I 'm a lost man!!"
It was not the amount of the demand—for
what was a mere flea-bite of a hundred or a
thousand pounds to a man who was the possessor
of a jewel worth two millions, or say
one million, or even half a million?—no, it was
that this demand came like a threat—and how
should a lout like this threaten if he had not
some means of vengeance? and what could
this be but some suspicions about me of a
kind which I too well knew would not bear
investigation? I gave him a cheque for the
money. I told him I considered myself robbed;
but he didn't seem to pay much attention.

Looking over my accounts, I found that by
my expenses for the house, instruments, and
tools for burrowing, living, sundries, and Bob, I
had already got rid of the sum of fifteen hundred
pounds. I was resolved to do something
conclusive as soon as possible. I sold out the
remainder of my property in the Three per
Cents, and the very next morning found me
on the road to Paris. The minute description
of my person, in my passport, alarmed me.
"Wears a large turquoise ring, a garnet and
topaz ring, a cairngorm watch-seal, two gold
chains, with a cut steel guard—and has a red
excoriation across the bridge of his nose." I
forthwith deposited my jewellery in their
cases, and covered the red mark on the bridge
of my nose with two strips of black sticking-plaster.

The morning after my arrival in Paris, I
dressed myself with great care—new summer
paletôt, glazed boots, kid gloves, and all that
—and betook myself to Messrs. * * *,
whose exquisite jewellery argued, of course,
an equally extensive capital, and a thorough
knowledge of the enormous prices that extraordinary
diamonds command in the market.
I had quite come to my senses on the question
of price, and had determined on making a
tremendous sacrifice. It may look like weakness,
but I knew what I was about, and had
now, deliberately, resolved to sell the Illustrious
Mountain at the reduced sum of half a
million—money down. It was in vain to go
on trifling with time in so serious a business
any longer. My feelings could not bear it.
I had already lost flesh, and all my good
looks, to a painful extent. I did not take the
diamond with me: much too cautious for
that.

I obtained an audience with the head of
the firm. I had asked for a private room.
After considerable circumlocution—and I
believe he must have observed my agitation, for
my knees shook, and my teeth chattered—I
made known my business—that I had a wonderfully
large diamond, of the first water, to
dispose of; that I was aware it was worth
two, or, at least, more than a million, sterling;
but that, as it was far too costly for me to
wear, or, indeed, any private gentleman, I had
made up my mind to part with it—he would
excuse my being a little nervous. The reduced
scale on which I offered it, would no
doubt surprise him; but I was resolved to let
him have it for half a million, or thereabouts.

Monsieur eyed me with a penetrating look—
quite a freezer—and then, glancing at my
card, read aloud, "Mr. Simeon Sparks, Hôtel
d'Espagne." Another look at me, and then,
"Half a million?"—said he—" pray, what is
the name of the diamond?—you, of course, have
got its pedigree, vouchers, &c., &c.? Half a
million?—is it the Ram Das—the Sing Lal
Door—or the Spanish Solitario Pomposo?"

I replied, with increased trepidation, that
I had forgotten its exact name. I did not
believe it was the Lal Door, or the Spanish