“There they are,” he said; “in the rough, it is true. These are just ordinary specimens of the pile. The whole thing is worth between eighty and one hundred thousand pounds. I have the remainder at my hotel off the Strand.” Long John got up with a certain eagerness, which not all his efforts to show no emotion could altogether conceal. He took the little parcel, laid it on the table, opened it and called the other men to come round. They were rewarded by nothing apparently remarkable—a few rough-looking stones, uncut and dull, lay before them. Long John fingered one or two, giving them a peculiar and intense glance out of his melancholy eyes. “And the rest are at the hotel?” he said. “Yes, in a packet in a cupboard at the back of my bed.” “Why did you not bring them?” “I might have been watched. It was not safe. I will return for them later on to-night, if one of you men will accompany me. Those diamonds had just arrived from Kimberley and were waiting to be put into the Bank at Madrid. I nabbed them in the nick of time.” “Yes, yes; you did well—you told us all that story,” said Piper. “You did very well. No one but Silver could have managed it,” said one of the other men in a tone of deep elation. “This haul sets us straight, don’t it, Piper?” “The diamonds have to be realised,” said Piper; “and we have not got them yet. How did you get on at Madrid in other respects?” “As well as possible,” answered Rowton with a short laugh. “My introductions got me into the best society in the place. I made some friends and saw something of the life.” “Well, so far so good,” said Piper; “but now for the other part of the business. You sold that black diamond, did you not?” “I got rid of it for fifteen hundred pounds. I have the money in my breast pocket.” “Too little,” said Piper, with a frown. “I said it was worth two thousand—you sold it for five hundred pounds below its market value.” “I could not help that.” “You were right, Silver, of course you were right,” said Scrivener, coming close up to Piper and Rowton as he spoke. “It would never have done to have brought the black diamond home again—some of us might have swung for it. Good to have it out of the land. You are certain it won’t be traced, though, old chap—remember it has a history.” “No, it is safe enough,” said Rowton with a grim smile. “You did right to sell it for fifteen hundred,” repeated Scrivener. “And I say he did wrong,” exclaimed Piper, stamping his foot as he spoke; “the stone was worth two thousand pounds, and if Rowton had played his cards well he’d have got it.” “I could do no better,” said Rowton, with a frown between his brows. “Stuff!” exclaimed Piper. “What is the good of having a man like you attached to us—a man who may trip us up at any moment—if you cannot do what you are commissioned to do? This loss of five hundred must be accounted for when we divide the profits.”