case to my own liking. You have caused me much worry. You have made me lose an entire night's sleep. This rest is lost. I shall never be able to reclaim it. If you have any suggestions to make I will listen to them. But bear this in mind. You will not escape until the scales of justice have swung into balance. The law must take its course."
Ives Cranston could not help admiring the suave manner of Chang Kien. He knew that he had met defeat. He also realized that if this affair ever became known he would lose all the prestige which for years he had labored so carefully to build up.
"Let us say," he suggested, "that for last night I simply rented the diamond. For its use I am willing to pay. What do you think about a thousand dollars?"
"Not much," said Chang Kien curtly.
"This is an affair which I detest being mixed up in. To a great degree I feel that it is beneath me. You cannot bargain with me. My price is ten thousand dollars. Nothing less. And permit me to say, all things considered, you are getting off rather cheaply."
Ives Cranston gasped. "I have not that amount of money with me."
"I am sure of that," was the reply, "but I think under the circumstances I will permit you to leave the house to get it. You have an account in a New York bank not far from this house. If you take a taxi it will not take you long. I do not think that you will endeavor to get away. You would not in any case. Even at this moment, a taxi is waiting for you at the door."
As Chang Kien spoke he led the way downstairs.
"I will wait for you in the library," he said. "I shall read a bit more of Matsura Basho while I do so."
After Cranston had gone Chang Kien settled down in a great armchair. He would liked to have seen Cranston's face when he found the jovial old friend of the past evening waiting to share once more his taxi with him.
In less than half an hour Cranston was back again. Now his expression was as calm and serene as that of Chang Kien. He too was able to control his emotions. He was a born gambler, a good loser. He bowed down before genius that was greater than his own. He counted out the money.
"It is all there," he said slowly. "And now since our business is over I suppose you have no objection to my leaving."
"None whatsoever," smiled Chang Kien. "Whenever you are in New York I should be charmed to have you visit me."
Cranston was anxious to get away. He still had the Gobi Diamond. In the confusion Chang Kien seemed to have forgotten it. As he walked toward the door, Chang Kien called after him.
"One moment," he said. "You may keep the Gobi Diamond. It is only paste. The one you viewed last evening was real but always before retiring I remove it from the wall safe and place therein a rather splendid imitation. The chance of being robbed, you see, entered into my calculations."
Long after Ives Cranston had gone Chang Kien still sat in his library reading his slender volume of haikais by Matsura Basho who of all the Japanese poets is the most interesting.
"The evening's cold
Touches the pallid lily's skin
Before it touches me."
Not till he had read the last verses did he lay the book aside. Even then he did so reluctantly. Now his mind was free, free to muse over the happenings of the last few hours. The interlude had been amusing and also lucrative. He admired the excellent manner in which Ives Cranston had accepted defeat. He was quite honorable enough to be a member of polite society