The Triumphs of Eugène Valmont | Page 4

pitted against the scoundrelism of
the world.
For one reason or another it was nearly half-past two before the sale began. There had
been considerable delay because of forged tickets, and, indeed, each order for admittance
was so closely scrutinised that this in itself took a good deal more time than we
anticipated. Every chair was occupied, and still a number of the visitors were compelled
to stand. I stationed myself by the swinging doors at the entrance end of the hall, where I
could command a view of the entire assemblage. Some of my men were placed with
backs against the wall, whilst others were distributed amongst the chairs, all in plain
clothes. During the sale the diamonds themselves were not displayed, but the box
containing them rested in front of the auctioneer and three policemen in uniform stood
guard on either side.
* * * * *
Very quietly the auctioneer began by saying that there was no need for him to expatiate
on the notable character of the treasure he was privileged to offer for sale, and with this
preliminary, he requested those present to bid. Someone offered twenty thousand francs,
which was received with much laughter; then the bidding went steadily on until it reached
nine hundred thousand francs, which I knew to be less than half the reserve the
Government had placed upon the necklace. The contest advanced more slowly until the
million and a half was touched, and there it hung fire for a time, while the auctioneer
remarked that this sum did not equal that which the maker of the necklace had been
finally forced to accept for it. After another pause he added that, as the reserve was not
exceeded, the necklace would be withdrawn, and probably never again offered for sale.
He therefore urged those who were holding back to make their bids now. At this the
contest livened until the sum of two million three hundred thousand francs had been
offered, and now I knew the necklace would be sold. Nearing the three million mark the
competition thinned down to a few dealers from Hamburg and the Marquis of
Warlingham, from England, when a voice that had not yet been heard in the auction room
was lifted in a tone of some impatience:--
'One million dollars!'
There was an instant hush, followed by the scribbling of pencils, as each person present
reduced the sum to its equivalent in his own currency--pounds for the English, francs for
the French, marks for the German, and so on. The aggressive tone and the clear-cut face
of the bidder proclaimed him an American, not less than the financial denomination he
had used. In a moment it was realised that his bid was a clear leap of more than two

million francs, and a sigh went up from the audience as if this settled it, and the great sale
was done. Nevertheless the auctioneer's hammer hovered over the lid of his desk, and he
looked up and down the long line of faces turned towards him. He seemed reluctant to tap
the board, but no one ventured to compete against this tremendous sum, and with a sharp
click the mallet fell.
'What name?' he asked, bending over towards the customer.
'Cash,' replied the American; 'here's a cheque for the amount. I'll take the diamonds with
me.'
'Your request is somewhat unusual,' protested the auctioneer mildly.
'I know what you mean,' interrupted the American; 'you think the cheque may not be
cashed. You will notice it is drawn on the Crédit-Lyonnais, which is practically next door.
I must have the jewels with me. Send round your messenger with the cheque; it will take
only a few minutes to find out whether or not the money is there to meet it. The necklace
is mine, and I insist on having it.'
The auctioneer with some demur handed the cheque to the representative of the French
Government who was present, and this official himself went to the bank. There were
some other things to be sold and the auctioneer endeavoured to go on through the list, but
no one paid the slightest attention to him.
Meanwhile I was studying the countenance of the man who had made the astounding bid,
when I should instead have adjusted my preparations to meet the new conditions now
confronting me. Here was a man about whom we knew nothing whatever. I had come to
the instant conclusion that he was a prince of criminals, and that a sinister design, not at
that moment fathomed by me, was on foot to get possession of the jewels. The handing
up of the cheque was clearly a trick of some sort, and I fully expected the official to
return and say the draft was good. I