CHAPTER VII.

  _A Business Transaction._

  Outside the police court, Philip drew as invigorating a breath of freshair as the atmosphere of Clerkenwell permitted. He knew that aninspector of police and a couple of constables were gazing at himcuriously through an office window, and the knowledge quickened hiswits.

  It was worth even more than his liberty to realize that, in allreasonable probability, his meteor was safe as yet. The police hadfailed in their quest; whom else had he to fear? The company hadinformed his mother that her tenancy of Johnson's Mews would not bedisturbed before the thirty-first. Of course, her death was known to thefirm, but their written promise to her was verbally confirmed to Philipby the manager. It was now the twenty-fifth. He had five clear days,perhaps six, in which to make all his arrangements. The forced seclusionof the prison had helped him in one way--it gave him a program, adetailed plan. Each step had been carefully thought out, andIsaacstein's office was the first stage in the campaign.

  A prowling hansom passed. Philip whistled.

  "Where's the fare?" demanded the cabman, angrily, looking up and downthe street.

  "Drive me to Holborn Viaduct, quick," said the boy, with his foot on thestep.

  Cabby eyed him with scorn.

  "What's the gyme?" he growled. "D'yer tyke me for a mug, or what?"

  "Oh, don't talk so much," cried Philip, impatiently. "Are you afraid Iwon't pay you? See! If you lose no more time, I will give you this," andhe held up a two-shilling piece for the cabman's edification.

  It is difficult to surprise your true Cockney whip. The man carefullyfolded the evening paper he had been reading, stuffed it under the strapwhich held his rug and cape, and chirruped to his horse:

  "Kim up, lazy bones! We've got a millionaire crossin'-sweeper inside.What, ho! Any bloomin' perfession is better'n drivin' a keb."

  The run was shorter than Philip anticipated, but, true to his promise,he proffered the two shillings.

  The cabman looked at him. Something in the boy's face seemed to strikehim as curious, and, notwithstanding Philip's rags, his skin wasscrupulously clean.

  "Gow on," he cried. "I'll make yer a present of that trip. 'Ope it'llgiv yer a fresh stawt in the world. Kim up, will yer!" And the hansomswung away into the traffic, leaving the boy standing on the pavement onthe north side of the viaduct. He made a mental note of the cab'snumber. It was easy to remember--three 8's and a 9--and walked on towardHatton Garden.

  Meanwhile the cabman, after varying luck, drove to his yard, changedhorses, secured a fare to a theater, and joined the Haymarket rank whilehe took a meal in the cabmen's shelter.

  "What's to-day's bettin' on the National?" he asked a friend.

  The evening paper was passed and he cast an eye over its columns.Suddenly he rapped out a string of expressions that amazed hiscompanions.

  "What's the matter, Jimmie? Missed a twenty to one chance at Lincoln?"

  "Great Scott! I thought he'd lift the roof off."

  "Go easy, mate. There's lydies outside."

  But the cabman still swore and gazed round-eyed at the sheet. And thisis what he read:

  "The boy, Philip Morland, whose possession of a collection of meteoric diamonds of great value has created so much sensation, was brought up on remand to-day at the Clerkenwell Police Court, and released. Mr. Abingdon thought fit to hear the case in camera, so this ragged urchin is wandering about London again with a pocketful of gems. He was last seen entering a cab in the neighborhood of the police court, and inquiry by our representative at the Hatton Garden offices of Mr. Isaacstein, the diamond merchant, whose name has figured in connection with the case, elicited the information that Morland called there about 3 P.M. Mr. Isaacstein positively refused to make any further statement for publication, but it is probable that developments in this peculiar and exciting affair will take place at any moment."

  In a word, the journalistic world was exceedingly wroth with both Mr.Abingdon and the Jew for balking it of a very readable bit of news. Noeffort would be spared to defeat their obvious purpose. Philip must bediscovered by hook or by crook, and badgered incessantly until hedivulged the secret of the meteor.

  At last the cabman became lucid.

  "I'm done," he groaned. "My brains are a fuzzball. 'Ere! Some one drinkmy beer. I'm goin' in fer cow-cow. I 'ad this young spark in my kebto-d'y an' didn't know it. 'E offered me two bob, 'e did, an' I stood'im a drive as a treat, 'e looked sich a scarecrow."

  "Who's next?" cried a raucous voice at the door.

  "I am," roared the disappointed one.

  "Well, look sharp. There's a hold gent a-wavin' 'is humbreller likemad----"

  "Keep 'im. Don't let 'im go. I'll be there in 'arf a tick. Who knows!P'raps it's Rothschild."

  Meanwhile Philip did not hesitate an instant once he reachedIsaacstein's office. A new note in his character was revealing itself.Always resolute, fearless and outspoken, now he was confident. He pushedopen the swing door with the manner of one who expects his fellows tobow before him. Was he not rich--able to command the services ofmen--why should he falter? He forgot his rags, forgot the difficultiesand dangers that might yet beset his path, for in very truth he hadachieved but little actual progress since he first entered that officefive days earlier.

  But he had suffered much since then, and suffering had strengthened him.Moreover, he had taken the measure of Isaacstein. There was a score tobe wiped off before that worthy and he entered into amicable businessrelations.

  The instant the immature Jew behind the grille set eyes on Philip, hebounded back from the window and gazed at him with a frightened look.Had this young desperado broken out of prison and come to murder themall?

  "Help! help!" he shouted. "Murder!"

  Clerks came running from the inner office, among them the elderly manwho interfered in Philip's behalf on the last occasion.

  "Make that idiot shut up," said Philip, calmly, "and tell Mr. IsaacsteinI am here."

  The office boy was silenced, and the excitement calmed down. Yes, thediamond merchant was in. If Philip would walk upstairs to the waitingroom, his presence would be announced.

  "Thank you," he said; "but kindly see that this urchin does not letothers know I am here. I don't want a crowd to be gathered in the streetwhen I come out."

  Such cool impudence from a ragamuffin was intolerable, or nearly so. ButIsaacstein ruled his minions with a rod of iron, and they would fainwait the little man's pleasure ere they ventured their wrath on the boy.Besides, they were afraid of Philip. Like most people in London, theyhad read the newspaper reports of the police court proceedings, and theywere awed by his strangely incomprehensible surroundings.

  So he was silently ushered upstairs, and soon he caught the thick-voicedorder of Isaacstein:

  "Show him in."

  The Jew, however, dived into his private sanctum before Philip enteredthe general office. The boy found him there, seated at his table.

  The duel began with questions:

  "How did you get out so soon? You were remanded for a week."

  "Are you going to send for a policeman?"

  "Don't be rude, boy, but answer me."

  "I am not here to satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Isaacstein. I have calledsimply on a matter of business. It is sufficient for you to know thatMr. Abingdon has set me at liberty and restored my property to me. Doyou wish to deal with me or not?"

  The diamond merchant tingled with anger. He was not accustomed to beingbrowbeaten even by the representatives of the De Beers Company, yet herewas a callow youngster addressing him in this outrageous fashion,betraying, too, an insufferable air of contempt in voice and manner. Heglared at Philip in silent wrath for an instant.

  The boy smiled. He took from his pocket the paper of diamonds and beganto count them. The action said plainly:

  "You know you cannot send me away. If I go to your trade rivals you willlose a magnificent opportunity. You are in my hands. No
matter how rudeI am to you, you must put up with it."

  Nevertheless, the Jew made an effort to preserve his tottering dignity.

  "Do you think," he said, "that you are behaving properly in treating aman of my position in such a way in his own office?"

  In his own office--that was the sting of it.

  The head of the firm of Isaacstein & Co., of London, Amsterdam andKimberley, to be bearded in such fashion in his own particular shrine!Why, the thing was monstrous!

  Philip looked him squarely in the eyes.

  "Mr. Isaacstein," he said, calmly, "have you forgotten that you causedme to be arrested as a thief and dragged, handcuffed, through the openstreets by a policeman? I have spent five days in jail because of you.At the moment when I was praising your honesty you were conveying secretsignals to your clerks in the belief that I was something worse than apickpocket. Was your treatment of me so free from blame at our firstmeeting as to serve as a model at the second?"

  The chair was creaking now continuously; the Jew swung from side to sideduring this lecture. He strove hard to restrain himself, but thefeverish excitement of Saturday returned with greater intensity thanever. He jumped up, and Philip imagined for a second that robbery withviolence was imminent.

  "Confound it all, boy!" yelled the merchant, "what was I to do when aragged loafer like you came in and showed me a diamond worth a thousandpounds and told me he had dozens, hundreds, more like it? Did you expectme to risk standing in the dock by your side? Who could have givenfairer evidence in your behalf than I did? Who proved that you could nothave stolen the stones? Whom have you to thank for being at liberty now,but the expert who swore that no such diamonds had been seen before inthis world?"

  Philip waited until the man's passion had exhausted itself. Then he wenton coolly:

  "That is your point of view, I suppose. Mine is that you could havesatisfied yourself concerning all those points without sending me toprison. However, this discussion is beside the present question. Willyou buy my diamonds?"

  Isaacstein recovered his seat. He wiped his face vigorously, but thetrading instinct conquered his fury.

  "Yes," he snapped. "How much do you want for them?"

  "I notice that their value steadily increases. The first time you sawthis diamond"--and he held up the stone originally exhibited to theJew--"you said it was worth six or seven hundred pounds. To-day youname a thousand. However, I will take your own valuation for thisunimportant collection, and accept fifty thousand pounds."

  "Oh, you will, will you! And how will you have it, in notes or gold?"

  He could not help this display of cheap sarcasm. The situation waslosing its annoyance; the humor of it was beginning to dawn on him. Whenhis glance rested more critically on Philip, the boy's age, the povertyof his circumstances, the whole fantastic incongruity of the affair,forced his recognition.

  Not unprepared for such a retort, Philip gathered the stones together,and twisted the ends of the paper. Evidently the parcel was going backinto his pocket. He glanced at a clock, too, which ticked solemnly overthe office door.

  "Here, what are you doing?" cried Isaacstein.

  "Going to some one who will deal with me in a reasonable manner. It isnot very late yet. I suppose there are plenty of firms like yours inHatton Garden, or I can go back to Mr. Wilson----"

  "Sit down. Sit down," growled the Jew, vainly striving to cloak hisnervousness by a show of grim jocosity. "I never saw such a boy in mylife. You are touchy as gunpowder. I was only joking."

  "I am not joking, Mr. Isaacstein. Your price is my price--fifty thousandpounds."

  "Do you think I carry that amount of money in my purse?" demandedIsaacstein, striving desperately to think out some means whereby hecould get Philip into more amiable mood, when, perchance, the truestory of the gems might be revealed.

  "No," was the answer. "Even if you gave it to me I should not take itaway. I want you to advance, say fifty pounds, to-day. I requireclothes--and other things. Then, to-morrow, you can bring me to a bank,and pay a portion of the purchase price to my credit, giving me at thesame time a written promise to pay the remainder within a week, or amonth--any reasonable period, in fact."

  The diamond merchant was quickly becoming serious, methodical, as helistened. This business-like proposal was the one thing needed torestore his bewildered faculties.

  "Tell me, boy," he said, "who has been advising you?"

  "No one."

  "Do you mean to say you came here to-day to trade with me withoutconsulting any other person?"

  "I certainly told Mr. Abingdon I was coming, and I feel that I canalways return to him for any advice if I am in a difficulty, but theoffer I have just made is my own."

  Watching Isaacstein's face was an interesting operation to Philip. Underordinary conditions he might as well expect to find emotion depicted ina pound of butter as in that oily countenance, with its set expressionmolded by years of sharp dealings. But to-day the man was startled outof all the accustomed grooves of business. He was confronted with aproblem so novel that his experience was not wide enough to embrace it.

  So Philip caught a gleam of resentment at the introduction of themagistrate's name, and he instantly resolved to see Mr. Abingdon againat the earliest opportunity.

  "Oh, he treated you kindly to-day, did he?" snarled Isaacstein.

  "Yes, most kindly."

  "You don't drink, I suppose?" broke in the other, abruptly.

  "No. I am only a boy of fifteen, and do not need stimulants."

  He was favored with a sharp glance at this remark, but he bent over hisdiamonds again and began to examine them, one by one. He knew that theaction was tantalizing to his companion, and that is why he did it.

  Isaacstein went to a sideboard and poured out a stiff glass of brandy.He swallowed it as an ordinary person takes an oyster.

  "That's better," he said, returning to his desk. "Now we can get toclose quarters. Hand over the stones."

  Philip did nothing of the sort.

  "Why?" he inquired, blandly. "You know all about them. You can hardlywant to examine them so frequently."

  "Confound it!" cried Isaacstein, growing red with renewed impatience,"what more can I do than agree to your terms?"

  "I asked you for an advance of fifty pounds. I said nothing aboutleaving the diamonds in your charge. Please listen to me. I make nounreasonable demands. If you wish to keep the stones now you must firstwrite me a letter stating the agreement between us. If it is right Iwill give you the diamonds. If it is not according to my ideas you mustalter it."

  "Do you think I mean to swindle you?"

  "I have no views on that point. I am only telling you what my conditionsare."

  Isaacstein sat back in his chair and regarded Philip fixedly and with asmuch calmness as he could summon to his aid. A ray of sunshine illumineda bald patch on the top of his head, and the boy found himself idlyspeculating on developments in the Jew's future life. The man, on hispart, was seeking to read the boy's inscrutable character, but thefixity of Philip's gaze at his denuded crown disconcerted him again.

  "What are you looking at?" he demanded, suddenly.

  "I was wondering how you will look when you go to heaven, Mr.Isaacstein," was the astounding reply.

  For some reason it profoundly disturbed his hearer. He wobbled for alittle while, and finally seemed to make up his mind, though he sighedperplexedly. The Jew was not a bad man. In business he was noted forexceeding shrewdness combined with strict commercial honesty. But thecase that now presented itself contained all the elements of temptation.No matter how clever this boy might be, he was but a boy, andopportunities for cheating him must arrive. If not he, Isaacstein, therewere others. The boy possessed a large store, possibly a very largestore, of rough gems, and in dealing with them his agents could rob himwith impunity. Yet, in answer to an unguarded question, thisextraordinary youth admitted that Isaacstein might merit eternal bliss.Such an eventuality had not occurred to the Jew himself duringunrecorded yea
rs. Now that it was suggested to him it disturbed him.

  "You imagine then that I may deal fairly with you?" he said at last.

  "Oh, yes. Why should you rob me? You can earn more money than you canever need in this world by looking after my interests properly. If onlyyou will believe this statement it will save you much future worry, Iassure you."

  "Were you in earnest when you said that you have an abundance of stoneslike those in your hands?"

  "So many, Mr. Isaacstein, that you will have some trouble in disposingof them. I have diamonds as big, as big--let me see--as big as an egg."

  The wonder is that the Jew did not faint.

  "My God!" he gurgled, "do you know what you are saying? Where are they,boy? You will be robbed, murdered for their sake. Where are they? Let meput them in some safe place. I will deal honestly by you. I swear it, byall that I hold sacred. But you must have them taken care of."

  "They are quite safe; be certain of that. Reveal my secret I will not. Ihave borne insult and imprisonment to preserve it, so it is not likely Iwill yield now to your appeals."

  Philip's face lit up with a strange light as this protest left his lips.The meteor was his mother's bequest. She gave it to him, and she wouldsafeguard it. Had she failed hitherto? Was not all London ringing withthe news of his fortune, yet what man or woman had discovered thewhereabouts of his treasure? In his pocket he felt the great iron key ofNo. 3, Johnson's Mews, and he was as certain now that his hiding placewas unknown as that his mother's spirit was looking down on him fromheaven, and directing his every movement.

  The Jew, in spite of his own great lack of composure, saw the fleetingglimpse of spirituality in the boy's eyes. Puzzled and disturbed thoughhe was, he made another violent effort to pull his shattered nerves intoorder.

  "There is no need to talk all day," he said, doggedly. "Now I am goingto tell you something you don't know. If your boast is justified--if youreally own as many diamonds, and as good ones, as you say you own--theremust be a great deal of discretion exercised in putting them on themarket. Diamonds are valuable only because they are rare. There is alimit to their possible purchasers. If the diamond mines of the worldwere to pour all their resources forthwith into the lap of the public,there would be such a slump that prices would drop fifty, sixty, eveneighty per cent. Do you follow me?"

  "Yes," nodded Philip.

  A week earlier he would have said, "Yes, sir," but his soul was bitteryet against Isaacstein.

  "Very well. It may take me months, years, to realize your collection. Todo it properly I must have some idea of its magnitude. If there areexceptionally large stones among it, they will be dealt with separately.They may rival or eclipse the few historical diamonds of the world, buttheir worth can only be measured by the readiness of some fool to payhundreds of thousands for them. See?"

  "Yes," nodded Philip again. His sententiousness brought the man to thepoint.

  "Therefore you must take me into your confidence. What quantity ofstones do you possess, and what are their sizes? I must know."

  Isaacstein, cooler now, pursed his lips and pressed his thumbs togetheruntil they appeared to be in danger of dislocation. It was his favoriteattitude when engaged in a deal. It signified that he had cornered hisvictim. Philip, appealed to in this strictly commercial way, could notfail to see it was to his own interest to tell his chosen expert theexact facts, and nothing but the facts.

  The boy, singularly unflurried in tone and manner, hazarded an inquiry.

  "What amount of ordinary diamonds, in their money value I mean, can youdispose of readily in the course of a year, Mr. Isaacstein?"

  "Oh, two or three hundred thousand pounds' worth; it is a matter largelydependent on the condition of trade generally. But that may be regardedas a minimum."

  "And the bigger stones, worth many thousands each?"

  "It is impossible to say. Taking them in the lump, at values varyingfrom a thousand each to fancy figures, perhaps fifty thousand pounds'worth."

  "It would be safe to reckon on a quarter of a million a year, all told?"

  "Quite safe."

  "Then, Mr. Isaacstein, I will supply you with diamonds of that valueevery year for many years."

  The Jew relaxed the pressure on his thumbs. Indeed he passed a tremuloushand across his forehead. He was beaten again, and he knew it--worstedby a gutter snipe in a war of wits.

  The contest had one excellent effect. It stopped all further efforts onIsaacstein's part to wrest Philip's secret from him. Thenceforth heasked for, and obtained, such diamonds as he needed, and resolutelyforbade himself the luxury of questioning or probing the extent of hisjuvenile patron's resources.

  But there was a long pause before he found his tongue again. His voicehad lost its aggressiveness when he said:

  "In the police court I valued the diamonds you produced at fiftythousand pounds. It does not necessarily follow that I am prepared togive such a sum for them at this moment. I might do so as a speculation,but I take it you do not want me to figure in that capacity. It will bebetter for you, safer for me, if I become your agent. I will take yourstones to Amsterdam, have them cut sufficiently to enable dealers toassess their true worth, and sell them to the best advantage. My chargewill be ten per cent, and I pay all expenses. To-day I will give youfifty pounds. To-morrow I will take you to a bank and place fivethousand to your credit. Meanwhile, I will give you a receipt for thirtystones, weighing, in the rough, so many carats, and you, or anyone youmay appoint, can see the sale vouchers subsequently, when I will handyou the balance after deducting L5,050 and my ten per cent. The totalprice may exceed fifty thousand, or it may be less, but I do not think Iwill be far out in my estimate. Are you agreeable?"

  Some inner monitor told Philip that the Jew was talking on soundbusiness lines. There was a ring of sincerity in his voice. Apparentlyhe had thrust temptation aside, and was firmly resolved to be contentwith his ten per cent.

  And this might well be. Twenty-five thousand pounds a year earned by afew journeys to the Continent--a few haggling interviews in the HattonGarden office! What a gold mine! Moreover, he would be the head man inthe trade. He was that now, in some respects; but under the newconditions none could gainsay his place at the top. Even the magnates ofKimberley would be staggered by this new source of supply. What did itmatter if the boy kept to his rags and amazed the world, so long as thediamonds were forthcoming? It was no silk-hatted gentleman who firststumbled across the diamond-laden earth of South Africa. Isaacstein hadmade up his mind. Fate had thrust this business into his lap. He wouldbe a fool to lose it out of mere curiosity.

  "Yes," said Philip. "I agree to that."

  "Samuel!" yelled Isaacstein.

  "Coming, sir," was the answering shout, and a flurried clerk appeared.

  "Bring in the scales, Samuel."

  The scales were brought, and a level space cleared for them on the desk.Philip, of course, had never before seen an instrument so delicatelyadjusted. A breath would serve to depress the balance.

  The boy held forth his paper, and poured the contents into the tinybrass tray of the scales. Samuel's mouth opened and his eyes widened. Itwas his first sight of the diamonds.

  "Four ounces, eight pennyweights, five grains--six hundred andtwenty-nine carats in thirty stones. Oh, good gracious me!" murmured theclerk.

  Isaacstein checked the record carefully.

  "Right!" he said. "Put them in the safe."

  Philip raised no protest this time. He knew that the Jew would keep hisword. Indeed, Isaacstein told Samuel to bring him fifty sovereigns, andere the man returned he began to write on a sheet of letter paper:

  "Received from----Here! what's your name?" he broke in.

  "Philip."

  "Philip what?"

  "That will do to-day, thank you. The next time I call I will give you myfull name and address."

  "Please yourself. I am no judge in this matter," and he wrote on:

  "Received from Philip, a boy who refuses any other name,
but the same whom I saw in this office on the twentieth inst., and again at the Clerkenwell Police Court on that date, thirty meteoric diamonds weighing in the gross six hundred and twenty-nine carats. I hereby agree to dispose of the same, and to render true account of sales to the said Philip or his agents. My commission to be ten per cent.; the expenses payable by me. I have to-day handed the said Philip fifty pounds in gold, and undertake to place five thousand pounds to his credit to-morrow with my bankers.

  "REUBEN ISAACSTEIN."

  After completing this acknowledgment he scribbled something else.

  "There," he said, with a sigh of relief, "that is not a very formaldocument, but it will suffice. You can get it stamped to-morrow atSomerset House. Just sign this receipt for fifty pounds."

  Philip took the two papers and read them carefully. Isaacstein'shandwriting was a scrawl, but legible enough. The boy reached for a penand signed his Christian name. He was on the point of adding his surnamein an unguarded moment, but he felt the Jew's eye on him. So he simplywrote "Philip" across the stamp at the foot of the receipt.

  Isaacstein fully appreciated the incident, and knew that his owneagerness defeated the chance, all the more powerful because it wasinvoluntary, of ascertaining the name of this marvelous youth.

  Philip gathered up his gold, not without counting the coins. They feltstrangely heavy in his pocket, much heavier than the stones theyreplaced. Yet they formed but a thousandth part of the value of thoseflintlike pebbles. What a queer problem it was, this ratio of worthbetween a few stones and the bright, minted sovereigns.

  "What time shall I call to-morrow?" he asked, standing, cap in hand,ready to take his departure.

  "At eleven. But wait one moment. Have you no friends to look after you?See what trouble you may get into. Why, the mere possession of so muchgold by a boy like you may----"

  "I can take care of myself, Mr. Isaacstein. I will be here at eleven.Good-afternoon."