mond was lost or stolen--in any case, he was
dispossessed of it. From that moment he was an unhappy idol. He derived
pleasure no longer from being worshipped, he could rest neither by night
nor day--he had lost his greatest treasure. When he could no longer
endure this state of wretchedness he stole out of the temple one fine
night unknown to anyone, and set out on his travels in search of the
missing Diamond. Was it simple accident or occult knowledge, that
directed his wanderings after a time to the shop of a London curiosity
dealer, where I saw him, fell in love with him, and bought him? I know
not: I only know that he and his darling Diamond were at last re-united,
and here they have remained ever since. You smile as if I had been
relating a pleasant fable. But tell me, if you can, how it happens that
in the forehead of yonder idol there is a small cavity lined with gold
into which the Diamond fits with the most exact nicety. That cavity was
there when I bought the idol and has in no way been altered since. The
shape of the Diamond, as you have seen for yourself, is rather
peculiar. Is it therefore possible that mere accident can be at the
bottom of such a coincidence? Is not my theory of the Wandering Idol
much more probable as well as far more poetical? You smile again. You
English are the greatest sceptics in the world. But it is time to go. We
have seen all there is to be seen, and the temperature of this place
will not benefit my rheumatism."

So the lamp was put out and Idol and Diamond were left to darkness and
solitude. In the vaulted room, at the entrance to the winding way that
led to the cavern, Ducie's eyes were again bandaged. Then up the
twenty-two stone stairs, and so into the carpeted room above, where was
the scent of pot-pourri. From this room they came, by many passages and
flights of stairs, back to the smoking-room, where Ducie's bandage was
removed. One last pipe, a little desultory conversation, and then bed.

M. Platzoff being out of the way for an hour or two next afternoon,
Captain Ducie contrived to pay a surreptitious visit to his host's
private study. On the carpet he found one of the two paper pellets which
he had dropped from his fingers the previous evening. There, too, was
the same faint, sickly smell that had filled his nostrils when the
handkerchief was over his eyes, which he now traced to a huge china jar
in one corner, filled with the dried leaves of flowers gathered long
summe