Aaron Rodd, Diviner. E. Phillips Oppenheim

of speech and manner, an appeal for sympathy in even this last gesture, which he found strangely disturbing.

      "You need explain to me no more than you wish," he told her, a little stiffly. "I shall be glad to be of any service to you. There is no need for you to enter into any painful details."

      She shrugged her shoulders protestingly.

      "You and my grandfather are of one mind," she remarked. "Then I will make a confession which may sound abrupt but which is nevertheless true. We three—my brother, my grandfather and myself—are not entitled to the sympathy we receive. We are, to a certain extent, impostors. Is your standard of morals a very high one, Mr. Rodd?"

      "I—I scarcely really know," he stammered. "As a lawyer I am brought into contact with all conditions of people. I have before now done my best for the criminal as I have for the honest man."

      "It is reassuring," she admitted. "Behold, then, my full confession. You have to do now with criminals—or may I say adventurers? We have, we three, to dispose of secretly a very large amount of precious stones. I have come to you for advice. The ordinary avenues of sale are closed to us. How can we get into touch with some one who will buy them and ask no questions?"

      Aaron Rodd was conscious of a little shock. Up to this last moment he had been doubtful. Notwithstanding the story which had been unfolded to him by Harvey Grimm, he had clung to his first impressions, impressions from which he was parting now with dire reluctance.

      "It is not an easy matter," he admitted, "but if anyone can help you, I can."

      The girl nodded.

      "There must be secrecy," she declared. "You see, my brother is, in a way, notorious. He has been very daring and very successful. For the sake of those who buy them, as well as for our own sake, the jewels must not be recognised afterwards.

      "I have a friend who might arrange it," Aaron Rodd announced. "I must warn you, however, that selling your stones in this way you cannot possibly receive their full value."

      "We do not expect that," the old man mumbled. "What we want, though, is the money—quickly."

      "My friend could doubtless manage that," the lawyer declared.

      "When can we see him?" the girl asked eagerly.

      "At once," was the prompt reply. "He was with me when you came and I sent him into my private apartments. If it is your wish, I will fetch him."

      "By all means," the old man insisted eagerly.

      "Yes, yes!" the girl echoed.

      Aaron Rodd rose to his feet and crossed the room to the door which led into his private apartment. He opened it and beckoned to its unseen occupant.

      "I have some clients here who would like a word with you, Grimm," he announced. "There may, perhaps, be some business."

      Harvey Grimm made his appearance at once. His air of curiosity, as he looked into the room, was very well done.

      "Business?" he repeated.

      "This gentleman and young lady," Aaron Rodd explained, "are clients of mine. Their names are unnecessary. They have consulted me as to the disposal of valuable jewels, their claim to which—might be open to question."

      Harvey Grimm threw the cigar which he had been smoking into the fire-place.

      "I see," he murmured. "Better tell me the circumstances."

      The girl repeated her story, with a few more details. The old man listened in a sort of placid stupor. He interrupted only once.

      "It is a foolish way, this. There is a man in Amsterdam——"

      "You will tell me what you advise, monsieur," the girl begged. "We must have money, and the jewels must be made unrecognisable."

      Harvey Grimm took a small magnifying glass from his pocket and screwed it together.

      "You have probably brought some of the stones with you," he observed briskly.

      The girl hesitated. She turned to her companion as though for guidance. He was still mumbling to himself, however, something about Amsterdam.

      "It is absolutely essential," Harvey Grimm continued, "that I should know something definite about the character of the stones you have to offer—that is if you wish me to deal with them."

      There was a brief silence. Then the girl rose to her feet and deliberately turned away from the three men for several moments. When she swung around again, she held in her hand a small chamois leather bag. Very carefully she opened and shook out its contents into the palm of Harvey Grimm's outstretched hand.

      "The large one," she said simply, "belonged to an American millionaire. My brother says that it is worth twenty thousand pounds. He, too, is a wonderful judge of precious stones."

      The old man seemed to wake up for a moment.

      "It is worth," he faltered, "a king's ransom."

      They all three bent over the little collection of jewels. Aaron Rodd's expression was one of simple curiosity. His knowledge of diamonds was nil. His partner's manner, on the other hand, underwent a curious change. There was a hard glitter in his eyes and unsuspected lines about his mouth. The atmosphere of the little room had become charged with new forces. The girl's face was tense with excitement, the old man seemed suddenly and subtly different.

      "Do not waste time," the former begged, a little feverishly. "It is not safe to bring these jewels into the daylight, even here. If you will buy, state your price. Give us an idea. We can meet again, perhaps."

      Harvey Grimm turned towards them.

      "The small stones are negligible," he pronounced. "The large stone is worth quite as much as you say. To cut it up, however, and then sell it in a secret market, is another thing. The most you could hope for would be five thousand pounds."

      The girl's face was a little vague.

      "Tell me," she enquired, "in English money how much is that a year?"

      "Two hundred and fifty pounds."

      "So that if there were ten stones like that," she went on, a little wistfully, "that would be an income of two thousand, two hundred and fifty pounds. One could live comfortably on that? One could hide somewhere in a quiet country place and live like gentlefolk?"

      "Certainly," Harvey Grimm assured her.

      She turned a little doubtfully towards her companion.

      "I am afraid," she sighed, "that grandfather is almost past realising what money means. In any case, we must consult my brother."

      Then there came without warning an interruption which seemed equally startling to all of them. Without any preliminary summons, the door of the office was thrown open. The detective, Brodie, followed by a man in plain clothes out with an unmistakably professional appearance, entered the room. The latter closed the door behind him. Brodie approached the little group. The girl's eyes were lit with terror. Harvey Grimm dropped his handkerchief over the jewels, whilst his partner stepped forward. Aaron Rodd's tone was harsh with anxiety, his face seemed more drawn than ever.

      "What do you want here?" he demanded.

      Mr. Brodie smiled tolerantly. His eyes were fixed upon the table. He pushed the questioner on one side and lifted the handkerchief which Harvey Grimm had thrown over the diamonds. Then he turned towards his companion with a little cry of triumph.

      "That," he declared, pointing to the jewel upon the table, "is one of the Van Hutten diamonds."

      "I do not understand," the girl said quietly enough, although she was shaking from head to foot. "It belongs to us. It is the property of——"

      "Cut it out," Brodie interrupted brusquely. "We'll talk to you, young lady, at police head-quarters."

      The girl turned to Aaron Rodd.

      "Who