"You mean," said the Senior Partner, "it would be impossible to guess,
even approximately, at its value?"
"Yes. For you know the value of diamonds is speculative--depending on
many conditions; size, shape, purity, color--and how they cut. The
Victoria--one hundred and eighty carats--was sold for four hundred
thousand pounds. But diamonds were rarer then. This, when properly cut
into the right number of stones, would bring more than three million
dollars."
William, in his enthusiasm, slapped his friend on the back. "Well, old
man, you have struck it rich this time."
The calm-eyed Cyrus smiled and nodded.
"Then this diamond of mine," he said, "would be ten times bigger than
the Koh-i-noor or any of those other stones?"
"Yes, sir."
"Isn't there a famous Sancy diamond?"
"Oh, yes. But that weighed only fifty-three carats. The Sancy diamond
was famous more from its unusual history than from its size."
"What was its history, Bressani?" said the Senior Partner. "I never
heard it."
"Well, it belonged to Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, who was
wearing it in his hat at the battle of Nancy, the day he was killed. A
Swiss soldier found it and sold it to a clergyman for a gulden; about
forty cents. Then it came into possession of Anton, King of Portugal,
who sold it for 100,000 Francs. Soon afterwards it became the property
of a French gentleman named Sancy. A descendant of this Sancy was sent
by Henry III as ambassador to Soluere and the King required the diamond
as a pledge. The servant who was carrying it to the King was attacked
by robbers and murdered, but before dying he swallowed the diamond.
His master, knowing his devotion, had the body opened and found the
diamond in his stomach."
"And where is it now?" asked Cyrus.
"It was bought by a Russian nobleman in 1835, for half a million
rubles; about four hundred thousand dollars."
"Jove!" exclaimed William. "Some difference in price between forty
cents and four hundred thousand dollars!"
"And how much bigger," asked William, "is this than the Sancy?"
"That weighed fifty-three carats. This, when cut, would weigh about
three thousand."
"Jove! Sixty times as much! Would it be worth sixty times four hundred
thousand dollars? That would be about twenty-four million dollars."
Mr. Bressani smiled and shook his head. "Times were different then--and
to-day there are more diamonds."
"I suppose many of the famous jewels," said William, "if they could
speak, might tell us stories as surprising as the Sancy's."
Then Cyrus Alton, in a low voice, addressing nobody in particular,
said: "It would be worth the price of this diamond to know its history."
The Bressani eyebrows went up--high up--and then far down. And beneath
the frown the fierce eyes looked eagerly toward the speaker. "Has it a
remarkable history, Mr. Alton?"
Cyrus smiled, slowly and somewhat sadly, and gently shook his head.
"I wish I knew. I would almost give the diamond's price to know its
story--much as I need the money."
"Do you know nothing of its history?"
"Nothing. I only know that if we could see what that stone has seen
we should enter a new field of knowledge. It would throw light upon a
world of unknown things, earlier than human history."
In silence the jewelers regarded the speaker, as if waiting for some
explanation of his words.
Mr. Bressani's eyebrows had shot up to the highest attitude yet
attained. In a low voice, but in a tone that showed the liveliest
curiosity, he asked, "Just what do you mean, Mr. Alton?"
"I mean the story of this diamond's country would be a story so
overwhelming, so far beyond us, so complete and final in its stupendous
tragedy that our own human drama would seem a trifling comedy."
These words were spoken in a calm but earnest manner, and they
impressed the listeners. A silence followed. Then Mr. Bressani asked:
"What _is_ this diamond's country?"
Cyrus hesitated. He knew that if he told the truth it would appear
incredible to his hearers--like a fairy tale for children: that he
would be regarded either as a fool, to be pitied, or as a willful liar.
While he hesitated the Senior Partner came to his rescue.
"Mr. Alton has already informed us that he has reasons for not telling
where he found it."
Mr. Bressani's enthusiasm, however,--and his curiosity--were far too
strong for accepting so easy a defeat. "But what part of the world? He
can tell us that."
"As a matter of fact," said Cyrus, "I don't know, myself, the name of
that particular country."
Again the bushy Bressani eyebrows sailed aloft, then dropped and
beetled over the fierce black eyes. "You don't know in what country you
were when you found it--or bought it?"
"I am not sure that it has a name."
"A most unusual country!"
"Yes, it certainly is;--most unusual."