“I like to deal with a man who knows his own mind,” said the stranger, “it saves trouble. But if we buy it for that amount you must do one thing for us. Keep quiet and don’t touch a drop of liquor until you sail, and not a word to anybody.”
“You needn’t be afraid o’ the licker,” said the sailor grimly. “I shan’t touch that for my own sake.”
“He’s a teetotaler,” explained the pawnbroker.
“He’s not,” said the seaman indignantly.
“Why won’t you drink, then?” asked the other man.
“Fancy,” said the seaman dryly, and closed his mouth.
Without another word the stranger turned to the pawnbroker, who, taking a pocket-book from his coat, counted out the amount in notes. These, after the sailor had examined them in every possible manner, he rolled up and put in his pocket, then without a word he took out the diamond again and laid it silently on the table. Mr. Hyams, his fingers trembling with eagerness, took it up and examined it delightedly.
“You’ve got it a bargain,” said the seaman. “Good-night, gentlemen. I hope, for your sakes, nobody’ll know I’ve parted with it. Keep your eyes open, and trust nobody. When you see black, smell mischief. I’m glad to get rid of it.”
He threw his head back, and, expanding his chest as though he already breathed more freely, nodded to both men, and, walking through the shop, passed out into the street and disappeared.
Long after he had gone, the pawnbroker and his friend, Levi, sat with the door locked and the diamond before them, eagerly inspecting it.