Array Sapper - The Complete Works of H. C. McNeile Sapper

"If what Professor Goodman told me was the truth—if he had indeed manufactured that diamond for five pounds in his laboratory, we were confronted with the possibility of an appalling crisis. And since he was the last person to tell a stupid and gratuitous lie, you may imagine my feelings.

"I need hardly point out to you that the whole diamond market is an artificial one. The output of stones from the mines has to be limited to prevent a slump—to keep prices up. And what would happen if the market was swamped with stones worth a king's ransom each as prices go today and costing a fiver to produce was too impossible to contemplate. It meant, of course, absolute ruin to me and others in my position—to say nothing of hundreds of big jewellers and dealers.

"I pointed this out to Professor Goodman, but,"—and once again Sir Raymond mopped his forehead—"would you believe it, the wretched man seemed completely uninterested. All he was concerned about was his miserable chemistry. 'A unique discovery, my dear Blantyre,' he remarked complacently. 'And two years ago I bet Professor—' I forget the fool's name, but, at any rate, he had bet this Professor a fiver that he'd do it."

Sir Raymond rose and walked up and down the room in his agitation.

"A fiver, Mr Blackton—a fiver! I asked him what he was going to do, and he said he was going to read a paper on it, and give a demonstration at the next meeting of the Royal Society. And that takes place in a fortnight. I tried to dissuade him; I'm afraid I was foolish enough to threaten him.

"At any rate, he rose abruptly from the table, and I cursed myself for a fool. But towards the end of the evening he recovered himself sufficiently to agree to give me and the other members of my syndicate a private demonstration. His daughter also allowed me to take away her brooch, so that I could subject it to more searching tests the next day."

He again sat down and stared at the man opposite him, who seemed more intent on how long he could get the ash of his cigar before it dropped than on anything else.

"Next day, Mr Blackton, my worst fears were confirmed. I subjected that stone to every known test—but it was useless. It was a diamond—perfect, flawless; and it had cost five pounds to make. I called together my syndicate, and at first they were inclined to be incredulous.

"They suggested fraud—as you know, there have been in the past several attempts made to obtain money by men who pretended they had discovered the secret of making diamonds in the laboratory. And in every case, up till now, sleight-of-hand has been proved. The big uncut diamond was not produced by the chemical reaction, but was introduced at some period during the experiment.

"Of course the idea was to obtain hush-money to suppress the supposed secret. I pointed out to my friends how impossible such a supposition was in the case of a man like Professor Goodman; and finally—to cut things short—they agreed to come round with me the following afternoon to see the demonstration.

"The Professor had forgotten all about the appointment—he is that sort of man—and we waited in an agony of impatience while his secretary telephoned for him all over London. At last she got him, and the Professor arrived profuse in his apologies. 'I have just been watching a most interesting experiment with some blue cheese-mould,' he told me, 'and I quite forgot the time. Now, what is it you gentlemen want to see?', For the first time a very faint smile flickered on Mr Blackton's lips, but he said nothing.

"I told him," continued Sir Raymond, "and we at once adjourned to the laboratory. We had most of us attended similar demonstrations before, and we expected to find the usual apparatus of a mould and a furnace. Nothing of the sort, however, could we see. There was an electric furnace: a sort of bowl made of some opaque material, and a variety of chemical salts in bottles. 'You will forgive me, gentlemen,' he remarked, 'if I don't give you my process in detail. I don't want to run any risk of my discovery leaking out before I address the Royal Society.' He beamed at us through his spectacles; and—serious though it was—I really could not help smiling. That he should make such a remark to us of all people!

"'You are, of course, at liberty to examine everything that I put into this retort,' he went on, 'and the retort itself.' He was fumbling in his pocket as he spoke, and he finally produced two or three dirty sheets of paper, at which he peered. 'Dear me!' he exclaimed. 'I've got the wrong notes. These are the ones about my new albumen food for infants and adults. Where can I have left them?'

"'I hope,' I remarked as calmly as I could, 'that you haven't left them lying about where anyone could get at them, Professor.' He shook his head vaguely, though his reply was reassuring. 'No one could understand them even if I had,' he answered. 'Ah! here they are.' With a little cry of triumph he produced some even dirtier scraps which he laid on the desk in front of him.

"'I have to refer to my notes,' he said, 'as the process—though the essence of simplicity, once the correct mixture of the ingredients is obtained—is a difficult one to remember. There are no fewer than thirty-nine salts used in the operation. Now would you gentlemen come closer, so that you can see everything I do?'

"He produced a balance which he proceeded to adjust with mathematical precision, while we crowded round as close as we could. 'While I think of it,' he said, looking up suddenly, 'is there any particular colour you would like me to make?' 'Rose-pink,' grunted someone, and he nodded. 'Certainly,' he answered. 'That will necessitate the addition of a somewhat rare strontium salt—making forty in all.'

"He beamed at us and then he commenced. To say that we watched him closely would hardly convey our attitude: we watched him without movement, without speech, almost without breathing. He weighed his salts, and he mixed them—and that part of the process took an hour at least.

"Then he took up the bowl and we examined that. It was obviously some form of metal, but that was as far as we could get. And it was empty. 'Without that retort, gentlemen,' he remarked, 'the process would be impossible. There is no secret as to its composition. It is made of a blend of tungsten and osmium, and is the only thing known to science today which could resist the immense heat to which this mixture will be subjected in the electric furnace. Now possibly one of you would like to pour this mixture into the retort, place the retort in the furnace, and shut the furnace doors. Then I will switch on the current.'

"I personally did what he suggested, Mr Blackton. I poured the mixture of fine powders into the empty bowl; I placed the bowl into the furnace, having first examined the furnace; and then I closed the doors. And I knew, and every man there knew, that there had been no suspicion of fraud. Then he switched on the current, and we sat down to wait.

"Gradually the heat grew intense—but no one thought of moving. At first the Professor rambled on, but I doubt if anyone paid any attention to him. Amongst other things he told us that from the very start of his experiments he had worked on different lines from the usual ones, which consisted of dissolving carbon in molten iron and then cooling the mass suddenly with cold water. 'That sets up gigantic pressure,' he remarked, 'but it is too quick. Only small stones are the result. My process was arrived at by totally different methods, as you see.'

"The sweat poured off us, and still we sat there silent—each of us busy with his own thoughts. I think even then we realised that there was no hope; we knew that his claims were justified. But we had to see it through, and make sure. The Professor was absorbed in some profound calculations on his new albumen food; the furnace glowed white in the corner; and, Mr Blackton, men worth tens of millions sat and dripped with perspiration in order to make definitely certain that they were not worth as many farthings.