But Francis, although he no longer struggled, was only waiting an
opportunity to make a bold push for freedom. With a sudden jerk he
left the collar of his coat in the hands of Mr. Vandeleur, and once
more made off at his best speed in the direction of the Boulevards.
The tables were now turned. If the Dictator was the stronger,
Francis, in the top of his youth, was the more fleet of foot, and
he had soon effected his escape among the crowds. Relieved for a
moment, but with a growing sentiment of alarm and wonder in his
mind, be walked briskly until he debauched upon the Place de
l'Opera, lit up like day with electric lamps.
"This, at least," thought he, "should satisfy Miss Vandeleur."
And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he entered the Cafe
Americain and ordered some beer. It was both late and early for
the majority of the frequenters of the establishment. Only two or
three persons, all men, were dotted here and there at separate
tables in the hall; and Francis was too much occupied by his own
thoughts to observe their presence.
He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The object wrapped in it
proved to be a morocco case, clasped and ornamented in gilt, which
opened by means of a spring, and disclosed to the horrified young
man a diamond of monstrous bigness and extraordinary brilliancy.
The circumstance was so inexplicable, the value of the stone was
plainly so enormous, that Francis sat staring into the open casket
without movement, without conscious thought, like a man stricken
suddenly with idiocy.
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