These perjured figures were scarcely arranged to his satisfaction when the clock struck ten.
The strokes seemed like as many separate accusations.
“Bah! what are they to me?” he asked himself. He had been robbed; he had found a way to restitution; a man’s providence must measure to his necessities.
To arrive at these conclusions put him five minutes in arrears. Five more for a leisurely arrival would be ten; enough to apologize for; sufficient for his purposes.
He consumed as much time as possible secreting the stone in the recess. That accomplished, Raikes emerged from his room and proceeded down the hallway.
When he reached the apartment occupied by the Sepoy he breathed a sigh of relief.
The door was closed.
In response to his rap upon the panel, a voice which he recognized as that of the Sepoy cried: “Come in!”
With a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, where, with him, the only conscience he had was located, Raikes complied with these instructions, and, closing the door softly, established himself, in his customary expectant attitude, in the chair indicated by his host.
“I have been told,” began the latter abruptly, “that there is a flaw in the sapphire.”