He sank into a chair, putting his arms upon the table, pillowing his face upon his hands. There was silence. Mr. Burgoyne, in his surprise, was momentarily struck dumb. At last, finding his voice, and eyeing his friend, he said--
"This is a bad job for both of us."
Mr. Watson looked up. Mr. Burgoyne, in spite of his own burden which he had to bear, was startled by something which he saw written on his face.
"As you say, it is a bad job for both of us." Mr. Watson rose as he was speaking. "But it is worst for me. Why did you tell me all that stuff about your wife?"
"God knows I am not in the mood to talk of anything, but rather than that, talk of what you please."
"Why the devil did you put that thought into my head?"
"What thought? I do not understand. I don't think you understand much either."
"Why did you tell me she had taken the stones? Why, you damned fool, I had them in my pocket all the time."
Mr. Watson took his hand out of his pocket. It was full of what seemed little crystals. He dashed these down upon the table with such force that they were scattered all over the room. They were some of the Mitwaterstraand diamonds.
"Watson! Good God! What do you mean?"