"Why not? The letter of the Marquis is explicit: 'In the event of Destiny having betrayed me and your finding no trace of me, you will yourselves open the envelope, and learning their hiding-place, take possession of the diamonds.' That's clear, isn't it? And since we know that the Marquis is dead and quite dead, we have the right to take possession of the four diamonds of which we are the proprietors—all five of us ... all five."
She stopped short. She had uttered words which, as the saying goes, clashed curiously. The contradiction of the terms she had used—four diamonds, five proprietors—was so flagrant that the young men were struck by them, and that Maître Delarue himself, absorbed as he was in other matters, received a considerable shock.
"As a matter of fact that's true: you are five. How was it we didn't notice that detail? You are five and there are only four diamonds."
Dario explained.
"Doubtless that arises from the fact that there are four men and that we have only paid attention to this number four, four strangers in contrast with you, mademoiselle, who are French."
"But you can't get away from the fact that you are five," said Maître Delarue.
"And what about it?" said Webster.
"Well, you're five; and the Marquis, according to his letter, had only four sons to whom he left four gold medals. You understand, four gold medals?"
Webster made the objection:
"He could have bequeathed four ... and left five."