"You had better dig."
I can feel the chill creeping down my back as I write of it; but at
the time, though I well knew the grisly sight which I was to
discover, I dug away steadily enough. The man who had surprised my
secret set himself down on a dark bank of ferns at about ten paces'
distance, and began to whistle softly, though I could see his fingers
fumbling with his coat-tails as though they itched to be at the flute
again.
The moon's rays shone fitfully upon the white face of the kiln, and
lit up my work. The little stream rushed noisily below. And so,
with this hateful man watching, I laid bare the lime-burnt remains of
the comrade whom, almost five months before, I had murdered and
buried there. How I had then cursed my luck because forced to hide
his corpse away before I could return and search for the diamond I
had failed to find upon his body! But as I tossed the earth and lime
aside, and discovered my handiwork, the moon's rays were suddenly
caught and reflected from within the pit, and I fell forward with a
short gasp of delight.
For there, kindled into quick shafts and points of colour--violet,
green, yellow, and fieriest red--lay the missing diamond among
Roger's bones. As I clutched the gem a black shadow fell between the
moon and me. I looked up. My companion was standing over me, with
the twinkle still in his eye and the flute in his hand.
"You were a fool not to guess that he had swallowed it.
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