The Orange-Yellow Diamond | Page 3

far
away in Scotland. He had listened for the postman's knock, hoping it
would bring relief, for four long days--and not one letter had come, and
he was despairing and heartsick. But--there was the watch!
He went out presently, and on the stair, feebly 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