“Let me look at them?” cried Jane, eagerly seizing upon the case. “_How_ they do flash! Ear-rings, breast-pin. Oh! but they burn like fire. What are they?” “Diamonds; every one worth heaps of money,” answered madame;—“took ’em as security for a debt, you know.” “And will you really let me have ’em?” asked Jane, almost gasping for breath. “Well, now you can’t expect ’em all, till there’s been more work done. Diamonds ain’t picked up from the gutters, I can tell you.” “But how many? The ear-rings now. May I have them?” She lifted up a long, old-fashioned ear-ring, as she spoke, glittering with innumerable pendants, that made her eyes sparkle as she held it up to the light. “These now?” “Not all at once,” answered madame, softly, and purring about her victim like a cat. “Say one ear-ring or the breast-pin for the papers, and the other ring when that girl is—is asleep, you know.” Jane shook her head, and grasped the ear-rings closer in her hand, gazing upon them with hungry eyes. “No, no, I’d rather leave the breast-pin, and take both ear-rings.” Madame took the casket from her visitor’s hand, and half-closed it. “If I give both rings for the papers, there is no depending on the rest. No, no; take one, and come back for the mate when the whole job is finished.” “But what good will one ring do me?” cried Jane, almost with tears in her eyes. “I can’t wear it!” “But you will soon be after the mate,” answered madame, holding up the ring in her claw-like fingers, and making the pendants tinkle before the longing eyes of her guest. “In three days they will both be yours.” “Yes! but what if it can’t be done? Some people never will die without a tussle for it. What good will this be to me then?” “You can sell it for three hundred dollars, or pawn it.” “Three hundred dollars!” cried Jane, incredulously. “More than that,” answered madame. “You thought I wouldn’t be liberal; you higgled about the price. There is three times the sum in your hand, and without asking, too.” The low, wheedling tone in which this was spoken would have created suspicion in a person less eager in her greed. But Jane clutched the prize in her hand, though she still cast longing glances at the casket. “When shall I see you again with news? Remember, don’t come till you want a mate to that.” “To-morrow night; I’ll come to-morrow night, see if I don’t.” “Be careful of the ear-ring, dear. Keep it about you. That Bellevue is such a place for thieves. Now the papers.” Jane took the little silken bag from her bosom, and gave it to the eager hands that were extended for it. “That will do. Now, good night, dear. Come again. Good night. If you should meet a policeman, just turn your face toward him, and he’ll know it’s all right. You’ve got a beautiful face, Jane Kelly, a beautiful face,—no policeman that sees it will disturb you.”