Hardly could I believe in its reality, even now.
Recalling the jewels which the English Duke of
Buckingham wore on the occasion of his visit to Paris in
1625, and whereof there was so much talk, I took these
to be as fine, though less in number. They should be
worth fifteen thousand crowns, more or less. Fifteen
thousand crowns! And I held them in the hollow of my
hand--I, who was scarcely worth ten thousand sous.
The candle going out cut short my admiration. Left in
the dark with these precious atoms, my first thought was
hour I might dispose of them safely; which I did, for
the time, by secreting them in the lining of my boot.
My second thought turned on the question how they had
come where I had found them, among the powdered spice
and perfumes in Mademoiselle de Cocheforet's sachet.
A minute's reflection enabled me to come very near the
secret, and at the same time shed a flood of light on
several dark places, What Clon had been seeking on the
path between the house and the village, what the
goodwife of the inn had sought among the sweepings of
yard and floor, I knew now the sachet--knew, too, what
had caused the marked and sudden anxiety I had noticed
at the Chateau--the loss of this sachet.
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