He
hoped to discover a topaz in Cocklesea. We knew the reason for this
optimism. We had been shown the lizard-brooch, a dazzling thing of gold and
precious stones, which Micklebrown had picked up last Bank Holiday on the
cliff at Cocklesea and presented to his _fiancee_, Miss Twitter, after
inquiry at the police-station had failed to discover its owner.
Most people would have been satisfied to leave well alone, but Micklebrown
is a man who hankers after the little more. The lizard's tail was composed
of topaz stones, and from its tip one topaz was obviously missing. "My firm
impression is that I did the damage when I trod on it," Micklebrown said.
"You see I put my foot right slap on the thing. I can't get it out of my
head that that topaz stuck in the mud and it's sticking there to this day.
Anyway I go to Cocklesea for my holiday to look. I know the very identical
spot." He closed his eyes the better to visualize it. "You go up a little
path behind the mixed-bathing boxes, turn sharp to the right at the top of
the cliff, past two pine-trees and a clump of gorse, go a trifle inland
through a lot of thistles until you come on three blackberry bushes; the
topaz should be ten inches south-west of the middle one."
"The colour'll be a bit washed out, won't it?" young Lister said; "we've
had a lot of rain since Bank Holiday."
Micklebrown's lip curled but he said nothing. Only to us, his intimates,
did he confide that he had no expectation of finding the topaz on the
surface; he expected to search through several strata of mud, and he was
taking a magnifying-glass and a gravy-strainer with him.
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