he broad high forehead, the eyes flashing with scornful mirth, and the
thin lips curling with such a whimsical mixture of kindliness and
sarcasm, bespoke a man of mind. Since reaching Rio, Dupleisis had
searched for these three, and he liked this one the best. Reed took out
his eye-glass, and, adjusting it carefully on his nose, surveyed
Dupleisis deliberately from head to foot.

"You'll do," he remarked, after some little thought; "but I still
believe that in your bread-and-butter days some friend thought you
sarcastic. I knew a young girl once who was told she had a musical
laugh, and the consequence was she giggled the rest of her life. Now, if
you don't wish to see us locked in here for the night, come along."

CHAPTER II

The establishment of Percy Reed, diamond-dealer, Rua do Ouvidor, was a
corner-building, almost the exact counterpart of a dozen edifices on the
same square. The basement was of polished blocks of black and white
marble, and the upper portion faced with blue and white porcelain tiles.
From above, the front rooms looked out through bow-windows at small
balconies with brass-knobbed railings and thick glass floors; those in
rear looked through glass doors at a flat roof, one story high, paved
with black and white marble squares. This breathing-place of the
household was adorned with pots of flowers and evergreens and provided
with neat iron chairs. It was divided from the breathing-place of the
adjoining household by a low brick wall.

Below, pedestrians gazed in through rose-wood doors and French plate
windows. The counting-room had rather the appearance of an elegant
boudoir than of a place of business. The floor was of alternate strips
of satin-wood and ebony; the walls and ceiling were paneled with
rose-wood, and rows of small glistening show-cases contained samples of
the dazzling gems. In the rear--but so covered with the glossy finish as
to be almost imperceptible--was a huge vault, containing precious
stones of a value almost sufficient to change the fate of an empire.
Farther back, and opening on the side street, was a long, dark hall-way,
from which a winding staircase led to the residence above. The second
floor of the adjoining house was usually let furnished to members of the
dramatic profession; and on this occasion it was occupied by
Mademoiselle Adrienne Milan, of the _Alcasar_.

The day after the _festa_, the lady, in a simple morning toilet, had
moved her table and sewing-chai