f_ you sell out those shares of yours, openly or
secretly, you are no longer my secretary; you receive forthwith six
months' salary in lieu of notice, and--you leave me instantly."

"Very well, Charles," I answered, in a submissive voice; though I
debated with myself for a moment whether it would be best to stick
to the ready money and quit the sinking ship, or to hold fast by my
friend, and back Charles's luck against the Professor's science.
After a short, sharp struggle within my own mind, I am proud to say,
friendship and gratitude won. I felt sure that, whether diamonds
went up or down, Charles Vandrift was the sort of man who would come
to the top in the end in spite of everything. And I decided to stand
by him!

I slept little that night, however. My mind was a whirlwind. At
breakfast Charles also looked haggard and moody. He ordered the
carriage early, and drove straight into the City.

There was a block in Cheapside. Charles, impatient and nervous,
jumped out and walked. I walked beside him. Near Wood Street a man
we knew casually stopped us.

"I think I ought to mention to you," he said, confidentially,
"that I have it on the very best authority that Schleiermacher,
of Jena--"

"Thank you," Charles said, crustily, "I know that tale, and--there's
not a word of truth in it."

He brushed on in haste. A yard or two farther a broker paused in
front of us.

"Halloa, Sir Charles!" he called out, in a bantering tone. "What's
all this about diamonds? Where are Cloetedorps to-day? Is it
Golconda, or Queer Street?"

Charles drew himself up very stiff. "I fail to understand you,"
he answered, with dignity.

"Why, you were there yourself," the man cried. "Last night at Sir
Adolphus's! Oh yes, it's all over the place; Schleiermacher of Jena
has succeeded in making the most perfect diamonds--for sixpence
apiece--as good as real--and South Africa's ancient history. In less
than six weeks Kimberley, they say, will be a howling desert. Every
costermonger in Whitechapel will wear genuine Koh-i-noors for
buttons on his coat; every girl in Bermondsey will sport a riviere
like Lady Vandrift's to her favourite music-hall. There's a slump
in Golcondas. Sly, sly, I can see; but _we_ know all about it!"

Charles moved on, disgusted. The man's manners were atrocious.
Near the Bank we ran up against a most respectable jobber.

"Ah, Sir Charles," he said; "you here? Well, this is strange news,
isn't it? For my part, I advi