upied by his own thoughts to observe
their presence.

He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The object wrapped in it
proved to be a morocco case, clasped and ornamented in gilt, which
opened by means of a spring, and disclosed to the horrified young man a
diamond of monstrous bigness and extraordinary brilliancy. The
circumstance was so inexplicable, the value of the stone was plainly so
enormous, that Francis sat staring into the open casket without
movement, without conscious thought, like a man stricken suddenly with
idiocy.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but firmly, and a quiet
voice, which yet had in it the ring of command, uttered these words in
his ear--

"Close the casket, and compose your face."

Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an urbane and tranquil
presence, and dressed with rich simplicity. This personage had risen
from a neighbouring table, and, bringing his glass with him, had taken a
seat beside Francis.

"Close the casket," repeated the stranger, "and put it quietly back into
your pocket, where I feel persuaded it should never have been. Try, if
you please, to throw off your bewildered air, and act as though I were
one of your acquaintances whom you had met by chance. So! Touch glasses
with me. That is better. I fear, sir, you must be an amateur."

And the stranger pronounced these last words with a smile of peculiar
meaning, leaned back in his seat and enjoyed a deep inhalation of
tobacco.

"For God's sake," said Francis, "tell me who you are and what this
means! Why I should obey your most unusual suggestions I am sure I know
not; but the truth is, I have fallen this evening into so many
perplexing adventures, and all I meet conduct themselves so strangely,
that I think I must either have gone mad or wandered into another
planet. Your face inspires me with confidence; you seem wise, good, and
experienced; tell me, for heaven's sake, why you accost me in so odd a
fashion."

"All in due time," replied the stranger. "But I have the first hand, and
you must begin by telling me how the Rajah's Diamond is in your
possession."

"The Rajah's Diamond!" echoed Francis.

"I would not speak so loud, if I were you," returned the other. "But
most certainly you have the Rajah's Diamond in your pocket. I have seen
and handled it a score of times in Sir Thomas Vandeleur's collection."

"Sir Thomas Vandeleur! The General! My father!" cried Francis.

"Your father?" repeated