The Diamond Master | Page 2

gone through your morning mail?" Mr. Latham inquired of the secretary.
"Yes," he replied. "I have just finished."
"Did you happen to come across a letter bearing on--that is, was there a letter to-day, or has there been a letter of instructions as to a single large diamond which was to come, or had come, by mail?"
"No, nothing," replied Mr. Flitcroft promptly. "The only letter received to-day which referred to diamonds was a notification of a shipment from South Africa."
Mr. Latham thoughtfully drummed on his desk.
"Well, I'm expecting some such letter," he explained. "When it comes please call it to my attention. Send my stenographer in."
Mr. Flitcroft nodded and withdrew; and for an hour or more Mr. Latham was engrossed in the routine of correspondence. There was only an occasional glance at the box in the pigeonhole, and momentary fits of abstraction, to indicate an unabated interest and growing curiosity in the diamond. The last letter was finished, and the stenographer arose to leave.
"Please ask Mr. Czenki to come here," Mr. Latham directed.
And after a while Mr. Czenki appeared. He was a spare little man, with beady black eyes, bushy brows, and a sinister scar extending from the point of his chin across the right jaw. Mr. Czenki drew a salary of twenty-five thousand dollars a year from the H. Latham Company, and was worth twice that much. He was the diamond expert of the firm; and for five or six years his had been the final word as to quality and value. He had been a laborer in the South African diamond fields--the scar was an assegai thrust--about the time Cecil Rhodes' grip was first felt there; later he was employed as an expert by Barney Barnato at Kimberly, and finally he went to London with Adolph Zeidt. Mr. Latham nodded as he entered, and took the box from the pigeonhole.
"Here's something I'd like you to look at," he remarked.
Mr. Czenki removed the cover and turned the glittering stone out into his hand. For a minute or more he stood still, examining it, as he turned and twisted it in his fingers, then walked over to a window, adjusted a magnifying glass in his left eye and continued the scrutiny. Mr. Latham swung around in his chair and stared at him intently.
"It's the most perfect blue-white I've ever seen," the expert announced at last. "I dare say it's the most perfect in the world."
Mr. Latham arose suddenly and strode over to Mr. Czenki, who was twisting the jewel in his fingers, singling out, dissecting, studying the colorful flashes, measuring the facets with practised eyes, weighing it on his finger-tips, seeking a possible flaw.
"The cutting is very fine," the expert went on. "Of course I would have to use instruments to tell me if it is mathematically correct; and the weight, I imagine, is--is about six carats, perhaps a fraction more."
"What's it worth?" asked Mr. Latham. "Approximately, I mean?"
"We know the color is perfect," explained Mr. Czenki precisely. "If, in addition, the cutting is perfect, and the depth is right, and the weight is six carats or a fraction more, it's worth--in other words, if that is the most perfect specimen in existence, as it seems to be, it's worth whatever you might choose to demand for it--twenty, twenty-five, thirty thousand dollars. With this color, and assuming it to be six carats, even if badly cut, it would be worth ten or twelve thousand."
Mr. Latham mopped his brow. And this had come by mail, unregistered!
"It would not be possible to say where--where such a stone came from--what country?" Mr. Latham inquired curiously. "What's your opinion?"
The expert shook his head. "If I had to guess I should say Brazil, of course," he replied; "but that would be merely because the most perfect blue-white diamonds come from Brazil. They are found all over the world--in Africa, Russia, India, China, even in the United States. The simple fact that this color is perfect makes conjecture useless."
Mr. Latham lapsed into silence, and for a time paced back and forth across his office; Mr. Czenki stood waiting.
"Please get the exact weight," Mr. Latham requested abruptly. "Also test the cutting. It came into my possession in rather an--an unusual manner, and I'm curious."
The expert went out. An hour later he returned and placed the white, glazed box on the desk before Mr. Latham.
"The weight is six and three-sixteenths carats," he stated. "The depth is absolutely perfect according to the diameter of the girdle. The bezel facets are mathematically correct to the minutest fraction--thirty-three, including the table. The facets on the collet side are equally exact--twenty-five, including the collet, or fifty-eight facets in all. As I said, the color is flawless. In other words," he continued without hesitation, "I should say, speaking as an expert, that it is the