on the outer boulevard he saw two men in
earnest colloquy upon a seat. One was dark, young, and handsome,
secularly dressed, but with an indelible clerical stamp; the other
answered in every particular to the description given him by the clerk.
Francis felt his heart beat high in his bosom; he knew he was now about
to hear the voice of his father; and making a wide circuit, he
noiselessly took his place behind the couple in question, who were too
much interested in their talk to observe much else. As Francis had
expected, the conversation was conducted in the English language.

"Your suspicions begin to annoy me, Rolles," said the older man. "I tell
you I am doing my utmost; a man cannot lay his hand on millions in a
moment. Have I not taken you up, a mere stranger, out of pure good-will?
Are you not living largely on my bounty?"

"On your advances, Mr. Vandeleur," corrected the other.

"Advances, if you choose; and interest instead of good-will, if you
prefer it," returned Vandeleur angrily. "I am not here to pick
expressions. Business is business; and your business, let me remind you,
is too muddy for such airs. Trust me, or leave me alone and find someone
else; but let us have an end, for God's sake, of your jeremiads."

"I am beginning to learn the world," replied the other, "and I see that
you have every reason to play me false, and not one to deal honestly. I
am not here to pick expressions either; you wish the diamond for
yourself; you know you do--you dare not deny it. Have you not already
forged my name, and searched my lodging in my absence? I understand the
cause of your delays; you are lying in wait; you are the diamond-hunter,
forsooth; and sooner or later, by fair means or foul, you'll lay your
hands upon it. I tell you, it must stop; push me much further and I
promise you a surprise."

"It does not become you to use threats," returned Vandeleur. "Two can
play at that. My brother is here in Paris; the police are on the alert;
and if you persist in wearying me with your caterwauling, I will arrange
a little astonishment for you, Mr. Rolles. But mine shall be once and
for all. Do you understand, or would you prefer me to tell it you in
Hebrew? There is an end to all things, and you have come to the end of
my patience. Tuesday, at seven; not a day, not an hour sooner, not the
least part of a second, if it were to save your life. And if you do not
choose to wait, you may go to the bottomless pit for me, an