"Very well, then," continued the Sepoy. "I will extend to you the courtesy of offering no denial to anything you have said." "That," laughed Gratz, "is the height of affability, under the circumstances; but proceed." "Good!" responded the Sepoy. "I have a suggestion to make. It is understood, in the first place, that Raikes is to recover his coin; on that point he will be fully satisfied. But there still remains the recognition of your services to him; you will have more difficulty in convincing him of his obligation than you had in persuading me of your acumen." "Ah!" murmured Gratz; "it is coming." "Are you any judge of brilliants?" inquired the Sepoy abruptly. "Somewhat," answered Gratz; "I have seen a few in my time." "Well," continued the Sepoy, "kindly put your hand in my right vest pocket and withdraw a small case of shagreen which you will find there." Gratz obeyed. "Now," continued the Sepoy, "press the spring." As Gratz complied with this instruction, the lid of the shagreen case flew open and revealed the superb sapphire which had radiated such insidious depravity into the mind of the miser. "What do you think of that?" inquired the Sepoy. For a moment or so Gratz did not reply. The mastery of its cutting, its magnificent bulk, its unrivaled purity overwhelmed him. "I have never seen one like it," he said finally, "if it is genuine." "Oh, you need not doubt it!" exclaimed the Sepoy, "or, if you do, you can assure yourself on that point. Now follow me. Six bags of Raikes' coin could not buy that." "You set its value high," suggested Gratz. "Naturally; its like does not exist. Money has never been able to purchase it. There is just one consideration I can accept for it." "And that?" inquired Gratz as the Sepoy paused. "A lapse of memory," replied the Sepoy. "A lapse of memory!" repeated Gratz. "Yes. Unlock these handcuffs and forget that you have done so." A sudden irradiation seemed to shoot from the gem. It was the impulse communicated by the trembling hand of the detective, who, either to conceal the flush that was gradually transforming his pallid face, or from his reluctance to remove his gaze, continued to hold the brilliant in much the same oblivious regard as that bestowed upon it by the unhappy Raikes. Gratz was having the struggle of his life. The veins fretted through his temples with frightful distinction; his forehead was moist with a profuse perspiration; his breath labored with intermittent entrance and egress. His well-known apathy, his exasperating negation of demeanor, where were they now? Gradually, however, in the manner of disheartened stragglers whipped again into the firing line, there shadowed in his expression evidences of moral recovery which the Sepoy did not like. The professional instincts of the detective, reinspired by his better nature, were making some very obvious appeals.