-whose
plan to go to London in search of her father was a rather ingenious
one--certainly has me to thank that she is not under arrest for criminal
conspiracy with her long-nosed lover!"

I laughed at Bindo's final remark, and put another "move" on the car.

At ten o'clock that same night we took out the petrol-tank and emptied
from it its precious contents, which half an hour later had been washed
and were safely reposing from the eyes of the curious between tissue
paper in the safe in the old Jew's dark den in the Kerk Straat, in
Amsterdam.

That was a year ago, and old Dumont still carries on business in the Rue
de la Paix. Sir Charles Blythe, who is our informant, as always, tells
us that although the pretty Pierrette is back in her convent, the
jeweller is still in ignorance of Martin's whereabouts, of how his
property passed from hand to hand, or of any of the real facts
concerning its disappearance.

One thing is quite certain: he will never see any of it again, for every
single stone has been re-cut, and so effectually disguised as to be
beyond identification.

Honesty spells poverty, Bindo always declares to me.

But some day very soon I intend, if possible, to cut my audacious
friends and reform.

And yet how hard it is--how very hard! One can never, alas! retract
one's downward steps. I am "The Count's Chauffeur," and shall, I
suppose, continue to remain so until the black day when we all fall into
the hands of the police.

Therefore the story of my further adventures will, in all probability,
be recounted in the Central Criminal Court at a date not very far
distant.

For the present, therefore, I must write

THE END.

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A SELECTED LIST OF
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_BY ALGERNON BLACKWOOD_

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