“I have in my possession a green diamond said to be worth a hundred and fifty thousand pounds,” answered the Russian quietly.

The simulated surprise with which Captain Ducie received this announcement was a piece of genuine comedy.  His real surprise arose from the fact of Platzoff having chosen to mention the matter to him at all.

“Great heaven!” he exclaimed.  “Can you be in earnest?  Had I heard such a statement from the lips of any other man than you, I should have questioned either his sanity or his truth.”

“You need not question either one or the other in my case,” answered Platzoff, with a smile.  “My assertion is true to the letter.  Some evening when I am less lazy than I am now, you shall see the stone and examine it for yourself.”

“I take it as a great proof of your friendship for me, monsieur,” said Ducie warmly, “that you have chosen to make me the recipient of such a confidence.”

“It is a proof of my friendship,” said the Russian.  “No one of my political friends—­and I have many that are dear to me, both in England and abroad—­is aware that I have in my possession so inestimable a gem.  But you, sir, are an English gentleman, and my friend for reasons unconnected with politics; I know that my secret will be safe in your keeping.”

Ducie winced inwardly, but he answered with grave cordiality, “The event, my dear Platzoff, will prove that your confidence has not been misplaced.”

After this, the Russian went on to tell Ducie that the Ms. lost at the time of the railway accident had reference to the great Diamond; that it contained secret instructions, addressed to a very dear friend of the writer, as to the disposal of the Diamond after his, Platzoff’s, death; all of which was quite as well known to Ducie as to the Russian himself; but the Captain sat with his pipe between his lips, and listened with an appearance of quiet interest that impressed his host greatly.

That night Ducie’s mind was too excited to allow of sleep.  He was about to be shown the great Diamond; but would the mere fact of seeing it advance him one step towards obtaining possession of it?  Would Platzoff, when showing him the stone, show him also the place where it was ordinarily kept?  His confidence in Ducie would scarcely carry him as far as that.  In any case, it would be something to have seen the Diamond, and for the rest, Ducie must trust to the chapter of accidents and his own wits.  On one point he was fully determined—­to make the Diamond his own at any cost, if the slightest possible chance of doing so were afforded him.  He was dazzled by the magnitude of the temptation; so much so, indeed, that he never seemed to realise in his own mind the foulness of the deed by which alone it could become his property.  Had any man hinted that he was a thief, either in act or intention, he would have repudiated the term with scorn—­would have repudiated it even in his own mind, for he made a point of hoodwinking and cozening himself, as though he were some other person whose good opinion must on no account be forfeited.