“The diamond’s gone!” exclaimed the Major, fixing his shining eyes upon me, whilst I observed that his fingers convulsively stroked his thumbs as though he were rolling up pellets of bread or paper.
“Do you tell me the diamond’s been taken from the place you hid it in?” said Captain North, still speaking softly, but with deliberation.
“The diamond never was hidden,” replied the Major, who continued to stare at me. “It was in a portmanteau. That’s no hiding-place!”
Captain North fell back a step. “Never was hidden!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t you bring two native workmen aboard for no other purpose than to hide it?”
“It never was hidden,” said the Major, now turning his eyes upon the captain. “I chose it should be believed it was undiscoverably concealed in some part of my cabin, that I might safely and conveniently keep it in my baggage, where no thief would dream of looking for it. Who has it?” he cried with a sudden fierceness, making a step full of passion out of the companion-way; and he looked with knitted brows towards the ship’s forecastle.
Captain North watched him idly for a moment or two; and then, with an abrupt swing of his whole figure, eloquent of defiant resolution, he stared the Major in the face, and said in a quiet, level voice—
“I shan’t be able to help you. If it’s gone, it’s gone. A diamond’s not a bale of wool. Whoever’s been clever enough to find it will know how to keep it.”
“I must have it!” broke out the Major. “It’s a gift for Her Majesty the Queen. It’s in this ship. I look to you, sir, as master of this vessel, to recover the property which some one of the people under your charge has robbed me of!”
“I’ll accompany you to your cabin,” said the captain; and they went down the steps.
I stood motionless, gaping like an idiot into the yawn of hatch down which they had disappeared. I had been so used to think of the diamond as cunningly hidden in the Major’s berth, that his disclosure was absolutely a shock with its weight of astonishment. Small wonder that neither Captain North nor I had observed any marks of a workman’s tools in the Major’s berth. Not but that it was a very ingenious stratagem, far cleverer to my way of thinking than any subtle, secret burial of the thing. To think of the Major and his two Indians sitting idly for hours in that cabin, with the captain and myself all the while supposing they were fashioning some wonderful contrivance or place for concealing the treasure in! And still, for all the Major’s cunning, the stone was gone! Who had stolen it? The only fellow likely to prove the thief was the steward, not because he was more or less of a rogue than any other man in the ship, but because he was the one person who, by virtue of his office, was privileged to go in and out of the sleeping-places as his duties required.