For this is what we saw:—­

At first, only a blaze of darting rays that beneath the moon gleamed, sparkled and shot out a myriad scintillations of colour—­red, violet, orange, green and deepest crimson.  Then by degrees I saw that all these flashing hues came from one jumbled heap of gems—­some large, some small, but together in value beyond a king’s ransom.

I caught my breath and looked again.  Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, amethysts, opals, emeralds, turquoises, and innumerable other stones lay thus roughly heaped together and glittering as though for joy to see the light of heaven once more.  Some polished, some uncut, some strung on necklaces and chains, others gleaming in rings and bracelets and barbaric ornaments; there they lay—­wealth beyond the hope of man, the dreams of princes.

The chest measured some five feet by three, and these jewels evidently lay in a kind of sunken drawer, or tray, of iron.  In the corner of this was a small space of about four inches square, covered with an iron lid.  As we gazed with straining eyes, Colliver drew one more long sigh of satisfied avarice, and lifted this smaller lid.

Instantly a full rich flood of crimson light welled up, serene and glorious, with luminous shafts of splendour, that, as we looked, met and concentred in one glowing heart of flame—­met in one translucent, ineffable depth of purple-red.  Calm and radiant it lay there, as though no curse lay in its deep hollows, no passion had ever fed its flames with blood; stronger than the centuries, imperishably and triumphantly cruel—­the Great Ruby of Ceylon!

With a short gasp of delight, Colliver was stretching out his hand towards it, when I laid mine heavily on his shoulder, then sprang to my feet.  My waiting was over.

He gave one start of uttermost terror, leapt to his feet, and in an instant was facing me.  Already his knife was half out of his waist-band; already he had taken half a leap forwards, when he saw me standing there above him.

Bareheaded I stood in the moonlight, the white ray glittering up my knife and lighting up my bared chest and set stern face.  Bareheaded, with the light breeze fanning my curls, I stood there and waited for his leap.  But that leap never came.

One step forward he took and then looked, and looking, staggered back with hands thrown up before his face.  Slowly, as he cowered back with hands upraised and straining eyeballs, I saw those eyeballs grow rigid, freeze and turn to stone, while through his gaping, bloodless lips came a hoarse and gasping sound that had neither words nor meaning.

Then as I still watched, with murderous purpose on my face, there came one awful cry, a scream that startled the gulls from slumber and awoke echo after echo along the shore—­a scream like no sound in earth or heaven—­a scream inhuman and appalling.

Then followed silence, and as the last echo died away, he fell.