point will immediately emerge into clearness, when we have sounded his
motive for replacing the one false stone by the other, and, above all,
for taking away the valueless stone, and then replacing it. And in
order to lead you up to the comprehension of this motive, I begin by
making the bold assertion that Ul-Jabal had not in his possession the
real St. Edmundsbury stone at all.

'You are surprised; for you argue that if we are to take the baronet's
evidence at all, we must take it in this particular also, and he
positively asserts that he saw the Persian take the stone. It is true
that there are indubitable signs of insanity in the document, but it is
the insanity of a diseased mind manifesting itself by fantastic
exaggeration of sentiment, rather than of a mind confiding to itself
its own delusions as to matters of fact. There is therefore nothing so
certain as that Ul-Jabal did steal the gem; but these two things are
equally evident: that by some means or other it very soon passed out of
his possession, and that when it had so passed, he, for his part,
believed it to be in the possession of the baronet. "Now," he cries in
triumph, one day as he catches Sir Jocelin in his room--"_now_ you have
delivered all into my hands." "All" what, Sir Jocelin wonders. "All,"
of course, meant the stone. He believes that the baronet has done
precisely what the baronet afterwards believes that _he_ has
done--hidden away the stone in the most secret of all places, in his
own apartment, to wit. The Persian, sure now at last of victory,
accordingly hastens into his chamber, and "locks the door," in order,
by an easy search, to secure his prize. When, moreover, the baronet is
examining the house at night with his lens, he believes that Ul-Jabal
is spying his movements; when he extends his operations to the park,
the other finds pretexts to be near him. Ul-Jabal dogs his footsteps
like a shadow. But supposing he had really had the jewel, and had