even he is not infallible; for, since the memoir made no mention of
the other secret drawer--the one in which Madame la Duchesse
concealed her love letters--Crochard knew nothing of it. It was that
fact which defeated his combinations--a pure accident which he could
not foresee. And now, gentlemen, it shall be my pleasure to display
before you some very beautiful brilliants."

Not until that instant had I thought of what the drawer contained; I
had been too fascinated by the poisoned fangs and by the story told
so quietly but so effectively by the French detective; but now I
perceived that the drawer was filled with little rolls of cotton,
which had been pressed into it quite tightly.

M. Pigot removed the first of these, unrolled it and spread it out
upon the desk, and instantly we caught the glitter of diamonds
--diamonds so large, so brilliant, so faultlessly white that I drew a
deep breath of admiration. Even M. Pigot, evidently as he prided
himself upon his imperturbability, could not look upon those gems
wholly unmoved; a slow colour crept into his cheeks as he gazed down
at them, and he picked up one or two of the larger ones to admire
them more closely. Then he unfolded roll after roll, stopping from
time to time for a look at the larger brilliants.

"These are from the famous necklace which the Grand Duke inherited
from his grandmother," he said, calling our attention to a little
pile of marvellous gems in one of the last packets. "Crochard, of
course, removed them from their settings--that was inevitable. He
could melt down the settings and sell the gold; but not one of these
brilliants would be marketable in Europe for many years. Each of them
is a marked gem. Here in America, your police regulations are not so