She turned to her companion as though for guidance. He was still mumbling to himself, however, something about Amsterdam.
"It is absolutely essential," Harvey Grimm continued, "that I should know something definite about the character of the stones you have to offer—that is if you wish me to deal with them."
There was a brief silence. Then the girl rose to her feet and deliberately turned away from the three men for several moments. When she swung around again, she held in her hand a small chamois leather bag. Very carefully she opened and shook out its contents into the palm of Harvey Grimm's outstretched hand.
"The large one," she said simply, "belonged to an American millionaire. My brother says that it is worth twenty thousand pounds. He, too, is a wonderful judge of precious stones."
The old man seemed to wake up for a moment.
"It is worth," he faltered, "a king's ransom."
They all three bent over the little collection of jewels. Aaron Rodd's expression was one of simple curiosity. His knowledge of diamonds was nil. His partner's manner, on the other hand, underwent a curious change. There was a hard glitter in his eyes and unsuspected lines about his mouth. The atmosphere of the little room had become charged with new forces. The girl's face was tense with excitement, the old man seemed suddenly and subtly different.
"Do not waste time," the former begged, a little feverishly. "It is not safe to bring these jewels into the daylight, even here. If you will buy, state your price. Give us an idea. We can meet again, perhaps."
Harvey Grimm turned towards them.
"The small stones are negligible," he pronounced. "The large stone is worth quite as much as you say. To cut it up, however, and then sell it in a secret market, is another thing. The most you could hope for would be five thousand pounds."
The girl's face was a little vague.
"Tell me," she enquired, "in English money how much is that a year?"
"Two hundred and fifty pounds."
"So that if there were ten stones like that," she went on, a little wistfully, "that would be an income of two thousand, two hundred and fifty pounds. One could live comfortably on that? One could hide somewhere in a quiet country place and live like gentlefolk?"
"Certainly," Harvey Grimm assured her.
She turned a little doubtfully towards her companion.
"I am afraid," she sighed, "that grandfather is almost past realising what money means. In any case, we must consult my brother."
Then there came without warning an interruption which seemed equally startling to all of them. Without any preliminary summons, the door of the office was thrown open. The detective, Brodie, followed by a man in plain clothes out with an unmistakably professional appearance, entered the room. The latter closed the door behind him. Brodie approached the little group. The girl's eyes were lit with terror. Harvey Grimm dropped his handkerchief over the jewels, whilst his partner stepped forward. Aaron Rodd's tone was harsh with anxiety, his face seemed more drawn than ever.
"What do you want here?" he demanded.
Mr. Brodie smiled tolerantly. His eyes were fixed upon the table. He pushed the questioner on one side and lifted the handkerchief which Harvey Grimm had thrown over the diamonds. Then he turned towards his companion with a little cry of triumph.
"That," he declared, pointing to the jewel upon the table, "is one of the Van Hutten diamonds."
"I do not understand," the girl said quietly enough, although she was shaking from head to foot. "It belongs to us. It is the property of——"
"Cut it out," Brodie interrupted brusquely. "We'll talk to you, young lady, at police head-quarters."
The girl turned to Aaron Rodd.
"Who is this man, and what does he want?" she cried. "Is this a trap into which you have drawn us? Is it a crime, here in England, then, to offer jewels for sale?"
"We'll talk this all out at the police station," Brodie intervened curtly. "Inspector?"
The man in plain clothes stepped forward and took command of the situation.
"My instructions are," he announced politely, "to ask you both to come with me to the police-station."
The old gentleman simply looked dazed. He rose to his feet obediently and turned towards the girl. She patted his arm reassuringly, but there was a look in her face which brought a sob into Aaron Rodd's throat. He was filled all the time with a silent fury. He cursed the moment which had taken him into the Embankment Gardens, which had brought Harvey Grimm once more into his life. The single look which the girl had flashed upon him was like a dagger in his heart.
Brodie had replaced the diamonds, one by one, in the little bag. He handed them over to his companion and motioned them all towards the door. The old gentleman moved wearily along, leaning upon his granddaughter's arm. Aaron Rodd hurried forward and opened the door. He tried to say something, but the girl turned from him contemptuously. He stood on the threshold, listening to their slow footsteps as they descended into the street. Then he swung back into the room, slammed the door and sank into the chair in front of his desk. It was as though he had passed through some terrible nightmare. He sat gazing out through the shadows. Had it all really happened? Then he caught a faint, unfamiliar breath of perfume which suddenly set his heart beating with unaccustomed vigour. A little morsel of white lace lay underneath the chair upon which she had been seated. He stooped and picked it up, smoothed it out, and let it slip from his fingers almost in despair. It was all true, then! She had sat in that chair, had come to his office, trusting him, had walked into the Harvey-Grimm-cum-Brodie trap!
*****
It was an hour or more before Harvey Grimm returned. He closed the door after him and came briskly across the floor.
"Well, young fellow," he exclaimed, "you can't say that I haven't fished you out of the backwaters."
"I wish to God you'd left me there!" was the bitter reply. "Tell me what's happened to her?"
"To her?—oh, the young lady!" Harvey Grimm murmured, with an illuminating smile. "She's all right. She's back at the Milan by this time."
"They couldn't identify the diamond, then?" Aaron Rodd asked eagerly.
"Not by a long chalk," was the smiling reply. "To tell you the truth, Brodie's about the sickest man in London just now. The stone he rolled out in front of the expert they had waiting down at Scotland Yard was——"
"Was what?"
"A lump of paste," Harvey Grimm declared, lighting a cigarette. "Queer business, eh?"
"There's no charge against the old gentleman and his granddaughter, then?" Aaron Rodd demanded breathlessly.
"None whatever. Why not try a cigarette, Aaron? You're all nerves."
The lawyer pushed the box away from him.
"You may think this sort of thing's worth while," he declared gloomily. "I can't say that I do. There'll be no reward to share, and it seems to me that we've made
