“I will,” said the pawnbroker solemnly.
The seaman laid his cigar in the tray, where it expired in a little puddle of tea, and, undoing his coat, cautiously took from his waist a canvas belt In a hesitating fashion he dangled the belt in his hands, looking from the Jew to the door, and from the door back to the Jew again. Then from a pocket in the belt he took something wrapped in a small piece of dirty flannel, and, unrolling it, deposited on the table a huge diamond, whose smouldering fires flashed back in many colors the light from the gas.
The Jew, with an exclamation, reached forward to handle it, but the sailor thrust him back.
“Hands off,” he said grimly. “None of your ringing the changes on me.”
He tipped it over with his finger-nail on the table from side to side, the other, with his head bent down, closely inspecting it. Then, as a great indulgence, he laid it on the Jew’s open palm for a few seconds.
“Five hundred pounds,” he said, taking it in his own hands again.
The pawnbroker laughed. It was a laugh which he kept for business purposes, and would have formed a valuable addition to the goodwill of the shop.
“I’ll give you fifty,” he said, after he had regained his composure.
The seaman replaced the gem in its wrapper again.
“Well, I’ll give you seventy, and risk whether I lose over it,” continued the pawnbroker.