It was clear it was done to disturb the diamond market,
and we realised, too late, that the man who had done it was--Colonel
Clay, in "another of his manifold allotropic embodiments!" Charles
had had his wish, and had met his enemy once more in London!
We could see the whole plot. Colonel Clay was polymorphic, like the
element carbon! Doubtless, with his extraordinary sleight of hand,
he had substituted real diamonds for the shapeless mass that came
out of the apparatus, in the interval between handing the pebbles
round for inspection, and distributing them piecemeal to the men of
science and representatives of the diamond interest. We all watched
him closely, of course, when he opened the crucibles; but when once
we had satisfied ourselves that _something_ came out, our doubts were
set at rest, and we forgot to watch whether he distributed those
somethings or not to the recipients. Conjurers always depend upon
such momentary distractions or lapses of attention. As usual, too,
the Professor had disappeared into space the moment his trick was
once well performed. He vanished like smoke, as the Count and Seer
had vanished before, and was never again heard of.
Charles went home more angry than I have ever beheld him. I couldn't
imagine why. He seemed as deeply hipped as if he had lost his
thousands.
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