more serious, Ingram," I said, "at such a moment as
this?"

"I am most serious," he replied. "I know that in a few hours I shall
be no more, and I trust in the mercy of Him who died for kings and for
slaves; but, Musgrave, I have a secret to tell you. Do you recollect
the story in the fairy tales of the little white cat whose head was
obliged to be cut off, and who then turned into the most beautiful
princess in the world? Well, my secret is something like hers."

I thought, by his continuing in this strain, that his head was
wandering. I was about to speak to him, when he continued:

"Do you know what has occasioned my death? I will tell you the secret.
I was washing for diamonds, when I found one of a size which
astonished me. I knew it was of great value, and I did not choose that
the King of Portugal should receive such a benefit from my hands. I
put it into my mouth to secrete it, hardly knowing what I should do
afterwards, but I was thinking how I should act, when one of the
superintendents passing (that crabbed old Portuguese belonging to the
next gang), and seeing me idle and in deep thought, he struck me with
his cane such a smart rap on the shoulders, that he not only made me
jump out of my reverie, but the diamond went down my throat. I'm sure
if I had tried to swallow it I could not have done so, but the shock
forced it down. Well, this has occasioned my death, for it has
remained in my stomach and occasioned the stoppage, which has ended in
inflammation and mortification. I feel it here even now; give me your
finger, don't you feel it? Well, now you understand why I talked of
the little white cat. Don't cut off my head, but when I am dead, just
put your knife down there and take out the diamond and bury it, for I
tell you--and they say dying men see clearer than others--but that I
am certain you will be released from these mines, and then the diamond
will be a fortune to you, and you will find that being my executor was
of some value to you. Now, pray--no scruple--I entreat it as a last
favour, promise me that you will do as I wish--pray promise me, or I
shall die unhappy."

I could not help promising him to execute his wishes, he appeared so
earnest and asked it as a last favour, but I felt very repugnant at
the idea. In another hour poor Ingram breathed his last, and I was
most melancholy at the loss of so worthy a friend, who had by serving
me been subjected to the same slavery as myself. I left the