The Dupuyer acantha. [volume] (Dupuyer, Mont.) 1894-1904, 1895-01-26
THEDIAMOND-MAKE

ache, I was disinclined either for en-
tertainment or further work. So much
of the sky as the high cliffs of that
narrow canyon Of traffic left visible
spoke of a serene night. and I deter
mined to make my way down to the
Embankment, and rest my eyes and
| cool my head by watching the varie-
| gated lights upon the river. Beyond
comparison the night is the best time
for this place; a merciful darkness
hides the dirt Of the waters and the
lights of this transition age, red. glar-
ing, orange, ~gas-yellow and electric
white, are set in shadowy outlines of
every possible shade between gray and
deep purple. Through the arches of
Waterloo Bridge a hundred points Of
light mark the sweep of the Embark
ment, and above the parapet rise the
towers of Westminster, warm gray
against the starlight. The black river
goes by with only a rare ripple breaking
it's silence and disturbing the reflections
of the lights that swim upon it's sur
face.
"A warm night said a voice at my
side.
I turned my head and saw the pro-
file of aman who was leaning over the
parapet beside me. 1t vas a refined
face, not unhandsome, though pinched
and pale enough and the Goa collar
turned up and pinned around the throat
marked his status in life as sharply as
a uniform. 1 felt I was committed to
the price of a bed and breakfast If l
asked him.
1 looked at him curiously. Would
he have anything to tell me worth the
money, or was he the common incapa-
ble-incapable even of telling his own
story? There was equality Of intelli-
gence in his forehead and eyes, and a
certain tremulousness in his neither lip
that decided mt.
Every warm said I, 'but not too
warm for us here"
NO" he said, still looking across
the water, lit is pleasant enough here
just now"
1T is good" he continued after a
pause, "to find anything so restful as
this in London. After one has been
fretting about business all day, about
getting on meeting obligations, and par
rying dangers, l do not know what one
would do If it were not for such paci-
fc corners" He spoke with long
pauses between the sentences. you
must know a little of the irksome labor
Of the world, or you would not be here.
But I doubt, if you can be so BRAIN
weary, and footsore as I I'm u u y
Bah! Sometimes I doubt if the game
is worth the candle. 1 feel inclined to
throw the whole thing over-name,
wealth, and ~position-and take to some
modest trade. But 1 know if l abandon
my ambition-I should have nothing
but remorse left for the rest of my
days.
He became silent. I looked at him in
astonisment. If ever l saw a mar
hopelessly hard up, it was the man in
front Of me. He was ragged, and he
was dirty, unshaven and unkempt; he
looked as though he had been left in
a dust bin for a week. And he was
talking to me of the irksome worries Of
a large business. I almost laughed out
right. Either he was mad, or playing
. sorry jest N his own poverty.
"1f high aims, and high positions"
said I. 'have their drawbacks Of hard
work and anxiety, they have their COM
pensations. Influence, the power Of do
ing good, Of assisting those weaker and
poorer than ourselves, and there is even
a certain qualification in display"
My banter under the circumstances
was in very vile taste. 1 spoke on the
spur of the contrast of his appearance
and speech. l was sorry even while 1
was speaking.
He turned a haggard but very COM
posed face upon me. Said he: Il forgot
myself. OF course you would not I'M
derstand."
He measured me for a moment. mo
doubt it is very absurd. You will not
believe me ever when I tell you, so that
1t is fairly safe to tell you. And it will
be a comfort to tell SC me one. I really
have a big business in hand, a very big
business. But there are troubles just
now. The fact isl make diamonds"
Il suppose" said I, you are out of
work just at PRESENT."
81 am sick of being disbelieved," he
said, impatiently, and suddenly unbut.
toning his wretched coat he pulled out
a little anvas bag that was hanging by
cord around his neck. From this he
produced a brown pebble. Il wonder
If you know enough to know what thai
Isl" He handed it to me.
Now, n year or so ago, I had occu
pied my leisure, in taking a Londor
science degree. so that I have a smat
tering of physics and mineralogy. Thu
thing was not unlike an uncut dia
mond of the darker sort, though fa,
too large, being almost as big as thu
top Of my thumb. l took 1t, and saw i
had the form of a regular octahcdron
with the curved faces peculiar to tn,
most precious of minerals. I took gu
my penknife and tried to scratch it
vainly. Leaning forward toward tn
gas lamp. I tried the thing on m,
watch glass, and scored a white lin
across that with the greatest ease.
1 looked at my interlocutor with ris
ing curiosity.
ut certainly is rather like a diamond
But, if so. it is a queen of diamonds
Where did you get itT"
L tell you I made it," he said. civ
it back to me-"
He replaced it hastily and buttone
his jacket.
81 will sell it to you for f1O0," h
suddenly WHISPERED eagerly.
With that my suspicion returned
The thing might, after all, be merel
q lump of that almost equally har
substance. corundOm, with an accidel
tai resemblance in shape to the di;
mond. Or. if 1t was a diamond, ho1
came he by it, and why should he o
fer it at 600?
We looked into one another's eye
He seemed eager, but honestly cage
At that moment I believed it was n dii
mond he was trying to sell. Yet l a.
a poor man, and a f1O0 would leave
: visible gap in my fortune, and no sar