The Orange-Yellow Diamond | Page 3

lighted by a jet of gas, he ran up against a fellow-lodger--a young Jew, whom he knew by the name of Mr. Melchior Rubinstein, who occupied the rooms immediately beneath his own. He was a quiet, affable little person, with whom Lauriston sometimes exchanged a word or two--and the fact that he sported rings on his fingers, a large pin in his tie, and a heavy watch-chain, which was either real gold or a very good imitation, made Lauriston think that he would give him some advice. He stopped him--with a shy look, and an awkward blush.
"I say!" he said. "I--the fact is, I'm a bit hard up--temporarily, you know--and I want to borrow some money on my watch. Could you tell me where there's a respectable pawnbroker's?"
Melky--known to every one in the house by that familiar substitute for his more pretentious name--turned up the gas-jet and then held out a slender, long-fingered hand. "Let's look at the watch," he said curtly, in a soft, lisping voice. "I know more than a bit about watches, mister."
Lauriston handed the watch over and watched Melky inquisitively as he looked at it, inside and out, in a very knowing and professional way. Melky suddenly glanced at him. "Now, you wouldn't like to sell this here bit of property, would you, Mr. Lauriston?" he enquired, almost wheedlingly. "I'll give you three quid for it--cash down."
"Thank you--but I wouldn't sell it for worlds," replied Lauriston.
"Say four quid, then," urged Melky. "Here!--between friends, I'll give you four-ten! Spot cash, mind you!"
"No!" said Lauriston. "It belonged to my father. I don't want to sell--I want to borrow."
Melky pushed the watch back into its owner's hand.
"You go round into Praed Street, mister," he said, in business-like fashion. "You'll see a shop there with Daniel Multenius over it. He's a relation o' mine--he'll do what you want. Mention my name, if you like. He'll deal fair with you. And if you ever want to sell, don't forget me."
Lauriston laughed, and went down the stairs, and out into the dismal evening. It was only a step round to Praed Street, and within five minutes of leaving Melky he was looking into Daniel Multenius's window. He remembered now that he had often looked into it, without noticing the odd name above it. It was a window in which there were all sorts of curious things, behind a grille of iron bars, from diamonds and pearls to old ivory and odds and ends of bric-á-brac. A collector of curiosities would have found material in that window to delay him for half-an-hour--but Lauriston only gave one glance at it before hastening down a dark side- passage to a door, over which was a faintly-illuminated sign, showing the words: PLEDGE OFFICE.
He pushed open that door and found himself before several small, boxed-off compartments, each just big enough to contain one person. They were all empty at that moment; he entered one, and seeing nobody about, tapped gently on the counter. He expected to see some ancient and Hebraic figure present itself--instead, light steps came from some recess of the shop, and Lauriston found himself gazing in surprise at a young and eminently pretty girl, who carried some fancy needle-work in her hand, and looked over it at him out of a pair of large, black eyes. For a moment the two gazed at each other, in silence.
"Yes?" said the girl at last. "What can I do for you?"
Lauriston found his tongue.
"Er--is Mr. Multenius in?" he asked. "I--the fact is, I want to see him."
"Mr. Multenius is out," answered the girl. "But I'm in charge--if it's business."
She was quietly eyeing Lauriston over, and she saw his fresh-complexioned face colour vividly.
"I do my grandfather's business when he's out," she continued. "Do you want to borrow some money?"
Lauriston pulled out the watch, with more blushes, and pushed it towards her.
"That's just it," he answered. "I want to borrow money on that. A friend of mine--fellow-lodger--Mr. Melky Rubinstein--said I could borrow something here. That's a real good watch, you know."
The girl glanced at her customer with a swift and almost whimsical recognition of his innocence, and almost carelessly picked up the watch.
"Oh, Melky sent you here, did he?" she said, with a smile. "I see!" She looked the watch over, and snapped open the case. Then she glanced at Lauriston. "How much do you want on this?" she asked.

CHAPTER TWO
MRS. GOLDMARK'S EATING-HOUSE
Lauriston thrust his hands in his pockets and looked at the girl in sheer perplexity. She was a very pretty, dark girl, nearly as tall as himself, slender and lissom of figure, and decidedly attractive. There was evident sense of fun and humour in her eyes, and about the corners of her lips: he suddenly got an idea that she was amused at his embarrassment.
"How much can