But why do
I speak so of the trinket? Do I not owe it a thrill of as fine joy as I
ever knew? Faith! it was not unfamiliar to me. It had been a daily sight
for years. In meeting the Baron Stahl I had found the diamond.
The Baron Stahl was, then, the thief? Not at all. My valet, as of course
you have been all along aware, was the thief.
The Marquis of G. took down Mme. de St. Cyr; Stahl preceded me, with
Delphine. As we sat at table, G. was at the right, I at the left of our
hostess. Next G. sat Delphine; below her, the Baron; so that we were
nearly _vis-a-vis_. I was now as fully convinced that Mme. de St. Cyr's
cellar was the one, as the day before I had been that the other was;
I longed to reach it. Hay had given the stone to a butler--doubtless
this--the moment of its theft; but, not being aware of Mme. de St.
Cyr's previous share in the adventure, had probably not afforded her
another. And thus I concluded her to be ignorant of the game we were
about to play; and I imagined, with the interest that one carries into a
romance, the little preliminary scene between the Baron and Madame that
must have already taken place, being charmed by the cheerfulness with
which she endured the loss of the promised reward.
As the Baron entered the dining-room. I saw him withdraw his glove, and
move the jewelled hand across his hair while passing the solemn butler,
who gave it a quick recognition;--the next moment we were seated. It was
a dinner _a la Russe_; that is, only wines were on the table, clustered
around a central ornament,--a bunch of tall silver rushes and
flag-leaves, on whose airy tip danced _fleurs-de-lis_ of frosted silver,
a design of Delphine's,--the dishes being on side-tables, from which
the guests were served as they signified their choice of the variety on
their cards.
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