"Observe the mode in which this Diamond is cut," said Van Loal. "It has been done in the Indies after a style which has been handed down from father to son for a thousand years. You should let it be operated upon by our Amsterdam cutters. They would turn it out at the end of six months, less in size it is true, but so greatly improved in every other respect, that you would hardly know it for the same gem. May I ask whether it is your intention to dispose of it by private treaty?"
"It is my intention ultimately so to do," answered Ducie.
"I suppose you have no objection to my trying the temper of your Diamond on the window?"
"None whatever," said Ducie, with a shrug. "You may write your name on every pane in the hotel if you please."
"That would indeed be a painful exhibition of vanity," replied Van Loal, with a weak attempt at a pun.
Speaking thus, he rose from his seat, and crossed the floor, holding the Diamond between the thumb and finger of his right hand.
Curtains of crimson damask draped the windows. One of these curtains Van Loal drew noisily aside. A second or two later those in the room could hear the slow scratching of the Diamond on the glass.
Mirpah's cheek grew still paler as the sound met her ears.
Just then Ducie was thinking as much of the beautiful girl before him as of the Diamond.
"I hope you have not forgotten our engagement to visit Elizabeth Castle to-morrow," he said. "It will be low water at noon, and we an either walk across the sands to it or ride, as may seem best to you."