with it. Indeed, in a
small way, I who write these words suffered dismissal and disgrace,
though I caught but one glimpse of this dazzling scintillation of
jewels. The jeweller who made the necklace met financial ruin; the
Queen for whom it was constructed was beheaded; that high-born Prince
Louis Rene Edouard, Cardinal de Rohan, who purchased it, was flung
into prison; the unfortunate Countess, who said she acted as
go-between until the transfer was concluded, clung for five awful
minutes to a London window-sill before dropping to her death to the
flags below; and now, a hundred and eight years later, up comes this
devil's display of fireworks to the light again!

Droulliard, the working man who found the ancient box, seems to have
prised it open, and ignorant though he was--he had probably never seen
a diamond in his life before--realised that a fortune was in his
grasp. The baleful glitter from the combination must have sent madness
into his brain, working havoc therein as though the shafts of
brightness were those mysterious rays which scientists have recently
discovered. He might quite easily have walked through the main gate of
the Chateau unsuspected and unquestioned with the diamonds concealed
about his person, but instead of this he crept from the attic window
on to the steep roof, slipped to the eaves, fell to the ground, and
lay dead with a broken neck, while the necklace, intact, shimmered in
the sunlight beside his body. No matter where these jewels had been
found the Government would have insisted that they belonged to the
Treasury of the Republic; but as the Chateau de Chaumont was a
historical monument, and the property of France, there could be no
question regarding the ownership of the necklace. The Government at
once claimed it, and ordered it to be sent by a trustworthy military
man to Paris. It was carried safely and delivered promptly to the
authorities by Alfred Dreyfus, a young captain of artillery, to whom
its custody had been entrusted.

In spite of its fall from the tall tower neither case nor jewels were
perceptibly damaged. The lock of the box had apparently been forced by
Droulliard's hatchet, or perhaps by the clasp knife found on his body.
On reaching the ground the lid had flown open, and the necklace was
thrown out.

I believe there was some discussion in the Cabinet regarding the fate
of this ill-omened trophy, one section wishing it to be placed in a
museum on account of its hist