THE FATE OF THE HARA DIAMOND.




CHAPTER IX.

AT "THE GOLDEN GRIFFIN."


Captain Edmund Ducie was one of the first to emerge from the wreck. He
crept out of the broken window of the crushed-up carriage, and shook
himself as a dog might have done. "Once more a narrow squeak for life,"
he said, half aloud. "If I had been worth ten thousand a-year, I should
infallibly have been smashed. Not being worth ten brass farthings, here
I am. What has become of my little Russian, I wonder?"

No groan or cry emanated from that portion of the broken carriage out of
which Captain Ducie had just crept. Could it be possible that Platzoff
was killed?

With considerable difficulty Ducie managed to wrench open the smashed
door. Then he called the Russian by name; but there was no answer. He
could discern nothing inside save a confused heap of rugs and minor
articles of luggage. Under these, enough in themselves to smother him,
Platzoff must be lying. One by one these articles were fished out of the
carriage, and thrown aside by Ducie. Last of all he came to Platzoff,
lying in a heap, white and insensible, as one already dead.