“These are pieces of the great diamond which were broken when the shell struck the bottom of the cave in which I found it. I picked them up as I felt my way around this shell, when walking upon what seemed to me solid air. I thrust them into my pocket, and I would not come to you, Margaret, with this story, until I had visited my office to find out what these fragments are. I tested them; their substance is diamond!”
Half-dazed, she took the largest piece in her hand.
“Roland,” she whispered, “if this is really a diamond, there is nothing like it known to man!”
“Nothing, indeed,” said he.
She sat staring at the great piece of glowing mineral which lay in her hand. Its surface was irregular; it had many faces; the subdued light from the window gave it the appearance of animated water. He felt it necessary to speak.
“Even these little pieces,” he said, “are most valuable jewels.”
“Roland,” she suddenly cried, excitedly, “these are riches beyond imagination! What is common wealth to what you have discovered? Every living being on earth could—”
“Ah, Margaret,” he interrupted, “do not let your thoughts run that way. If my discovery should be put to the use of which you are thinking, it would bring poverty to the world, not wealth, and every diamond on earth would be worthless.”
She trembled. “And these—are they to be valued as common pebbles?”
“Oh no,” said he; “these broken fragments I have found are to us riches far beyond our wildest imagination.”