“Excuse me, sir,” said Bœhmer, coloring, “but I dare not show the necklace, except in my partner’s presence.”
“Well, sir, call your partner.”
Don Manoël approached Beausire, and began again talking to him in Portuguese.
“His excellency says,” interpreted he, “that he has already waited ten minutes, and that he is not accustomed to be kept waiting.”
Bœhmer bowed, and rang the bell. A minute afterwards M. Bossange entered.
Bœhmer explained the matter to him, who, after looking scrutinizingly at the Portuguese, left the room with a key given him by his partner, and soon returned with a case in one hand; the other was hidden under his coat, but they distinctly saw the shining barrel of a pistol.
“However well we may look,” said Manoël gravely, in Portuguese, to his companion, “these gentlemen seem to take us for pickpockets rather than ambassadors.”
M. Bossange advanced, and put the case into the hands of Manoël. He opened it, and then cried angrily to his secretary:
“Monsieur, tell these gentlemen that they tire my patience! I ask for a diamond necklace, and they bring me paste. Tell them I will complain to the ministers, and will have them thrown into the Bastile, impertinent people, who play tricks upon an ambassador.” And he threw down the case in such a passion that they did not need an interpretation of his speech, but began explaining most humbly that in France it was usual to show only the models of diamonds, so as not to tempt people to robbery, were they so inclined.
Manoël, with an indignant gesture, walked towards the door.