The
atmosphere of the place was cold and damp, and the walls in many places
dripped with moisture; in other places they scintillated in the
lamplight as though thousands of minute gems were embedded in their
surface.
In the middle of the floor, on a pedestal of stones loosely piled
together, was a hideous idol, about four feet in height, made of wood,
and painted in various colours. In the centre of its forehead gleamed
the great Diamond.
"Behold!" was all that Platzoff said, as he pointed to the idol. Then
they both stood and gazed in silence.
Many contending emotions were at work just then in Ducie's breast, chief
of which was a burning, almost unconquerable desire to make that
glorious gem his own at every risk. In his ear a fiend seemed to be
whispering.
"All you have to do," it seemed to say, "is to grip old Platzoff tightly
round the neck for a couple of minutes. His thread of life is frail and
would be easily broken. Then possess yourself of the Diamond and his
keys. Go back by the way you came and fasten everything behind you. The
household is all a-bed, and you could get away unseen.
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