As he spoke, he pulled from the front of his military jacket a bag made of soft yellow leather, curiously embroidered with coloured braid. It was about half as big again as a man's fist, and seemed heavy. 'And what--if the question may be permitted--is that?' inquired Sir Norman, fixing his eyes keenly on those of his guest. 'Oh, they are my diamonds, which I promised my cousin to bring her from India. But, before giving them to her, I shall take them to a lapidary in London and have them carefully set. At present, as you may see, they are many of them in the rough state, and worthless for a lady's ornaments.' 'They are not in themselves worthless, however,' remarked Sir Norman, bending over the glittering pile of jewels which the Colonel had carelessly poured out upon the table. 'And not all of them are diamonds.' 'No, they are of all kinds--rubies, sapphires, emeralds, or diamonds--I was not particular. And they have a value of their own, as you say: a fellow who understands about such things once offered me a hundred thousand guineas for the lot. But, of course, it was not his money that I wanted: each of those stones has some adventure associated with it which no money could buy of me; and, besides, they are all destined to adorn the person of my pretty cousin.' 'A magnificent gift, indeed!' murmured Sir Norman. 'I hope she will like it,' replied the Colonel ingenuously. 'What woman--what human being, for that matter--could be indifferent to it!' sighed Sir Norman, turning away. 'Well, I will leave you for a moment; when you are prepared, come to the room where you first found Mrs. Chepstow. We shall await you with impatience.' CHAPTER IX. THE GUEST. If Colonel Banyon's visit was brief, it was merry: it was filled from end to end with laughter, talk, and story. The Colonel had, naturally, a thousand anecdotes to tell, and a still greater number of questions to answer. Though a hero, he was neither a reticent nor a shamefaced one. He enjoyed what he was heartily. He had lived a successful, daring, reckless, honourable life, and was accustomed to look back over the past and forward to the future with equal satisfaction and cheerfulness. He gave a very vivid and entertaining picture of his recent Indian experiences, and when, at length, he declared that it was time for him to be off, Mrs. Chepstow could not conceal her chagrin: her pretty under-lip trembled, and tears stood in her eyes. 'You will be back soon, cousin?' she said piteously. 'In ten days, if I live so long,' he declared. 'Live ten days! What do you mean?' 'Nothing, upon my soul!' laughed the Colonel. 'They say, though, that when folks have been so merry as we have been this evening, calamity is nigh. And since I have been the merriest, it would be fair to infer that it's to me the calamity is nighest.'