er what bearing they had upon
the great mystery of the hiding-place of the Diamond, he found that they
had no bearing upon it whatever; that for anything seen or heard by him
the world might hold no such precious gem, and the Russian's letter to
Signor Lampini might be nothing more than an elaborate hoax.

When the access of chagrin caused by the recognition of this fact had in
some degree subsided, Ducie was ready enough to ridicule his own foolish
expectations. "Platzoff has had the Diamond in his possession for years.
For him there is nothing of novelty in such a fact. Yet here have I been
foolish enough to expect that in the course of one short week I should
discover by some sign or token the spot where it is hidden, and that too
after I knew from his own confession that the secret was one which he
guarded most jealously. I might be here for five years and be not one
whit wiser at the end of that time as regards the hiding-place of the
Diamond than I am now. From this day I give up the affair as a bad job."

Nevertheless, he did not quite do that. He kept up his habit of seeing
and noting little things, but without any definite views as to any
ulterior benefit that might accrue to him therefrom. Perhaps there was
some vague idea floating in his mind that Fortune, who had served him so
many kind turns in years gone by, might befriend him once again in this
matter--might point out to him the wished-for clue, and indicate by what
means he could secure the Diamond for his own.

The magnitude of the temptation dazzled him. Captain Ducie would not
have picked your pocket, or have stolen your watch, or your horse, or
the title-deeds of your property. He had never put another man's name to
a bill instead of his own. You might have made him trustee for your
widow or children, and have felt sure that their interests would have
been scrupulously respected at his hands. Yet with all this--strange
contradiction as it may seem--if he could have laid surreptitious
fingers on M. Platzoff's Diamond, that gentleman would certainly never
have seen his cherished gem again. But had Platzoff placed it in his
hands and said, "Take this to London for me and deposit it at my
bankers'," the commission would have been faithfully fulfilled. It
seemed as if the element of mystery, of deliberate concealment, made all
the difference in Captain Ducie's unspoken estimate of the case.
Besides, would there not be something princely in such a theft?