Francis returned to his lodging in a state of considerable
commotion of mind. He made the most trifling progress with his
Euclid for that forenoon, and was more often at the window than at
his improvised writing-table. But beyond seeing the return of Miss
Vandeleur, and the meeting between her and her father, who was
smoking a Trichinopoli cigar in the verandah, there was nothing
notable in the neighbourhood of the house with the green blinds
before the time of the mid-day meal. The young man hastily allayed
his appetite in a neighbouring restaurant, and returned with the
speed of unallayed curiosity to the house in the Rue Lepic. A
mounted servant was leading a saddle-horse to and fro before the
garden wall; and the porter of Francis's lodging was smoking a pipe
against the door-post, absorbed in contemplation of the livery and
the steeds.
"Look!" he cried to the young man, "what fine cattle! what an
elegant costume! They belong to the brother of M. de Vandeleur,
who is now within upon a visit. He is a great man, a general, in
your country; and you doubtless know him well by reputation."
"I confess," returned Francis, "that I have never heard of General
Vandeleur before. We have many officers of that grade, and my
pursuits have been exclusively civil."
"It is he," replied the porter, "who lost the great diamond of the
Indies. Of that at least you must have read often in the papers.
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