I stared, fascinated, at the glassy heap on the bunk¹. I picked up one which, but for the weight, might have been a fragment of broken bottle.

“Are you sure, Suzanne?”

“Oh, yes, my dear. I’ve seen rough diamonds too often to have any doubts. They’re beauties too, Anne—and some of them are unique, I should say. There’s a history behind these.”

“The history we heard to-night,” I cried.

“You mean——?”

“Colonel Race’s story. It can’t be a coincidence. He told it for a purpose.”

“To see its effect, you mean?”

I nodded.

“Its effect on Sir Eustace?”

“Yes.”

But, even as I said it, a doubt assailed² me. Was it Sir Eustace who had been subjected to a test, or had the story been told for my benefit? I remembered the impression I had received on that former night of having been deliberately³ “pumped.” For some reason or other, Colonel Race was suspicious. But where did he come in? What possible connection could he have with the affair?

“Who is Colonel Race?” I asked.

“That’s rather a question,” said Suzanne. “He’s pretty well known as a big-game hunter, and, as you heard him say to-night, he was a distant cousin of Sir Laurence Eardsley. I’ve never actually met him until this trip. He journeys to and from Africa a good deal. There’s a general idea that he does Secret Service work. I don’t know whether it’s true or not. He’s certainly rather a mysterious creature.”

“I suppose he came into a lot of money as Sir Laurence Eardsley’s heir?”

“My dear Anne, he must be rolling. You know, he’d be a splendid match for you.”

“I can’t have a good go at him with you aboard the ship,” I said, laughing. “Oh, these married women!”

“We do have a pull,” murmured Suzanne complacently⁴. “And everybody knows that I am absolutely devoted⁵ to Clarence—my husband, you know. It’s so safe and pleasant to make love to a devoted wife.”

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