of the Koh-i-noor. I intend to hide the stone in my cabin,
so as to extinguish all risk, saving, of course, what the insurance
people call the acts of God. May I look at your cabin accommodation?"

"Certainly."

I led the way to the companion hatch, and he followed me into the cabin.
The ship had berthing room for eight or ten people irrespective of the
officers who slept aft. But the vessel made no bid for passengers. She
left them to Blackwall Liners, to the splendid ships of Green, Money
Wigram, and Smith, and to the P. & O. and other steam lines. The
overland route was then the general choice; few of their own decision
went by way of the Cape. No one had booked with us down to this hour,
and we had counted upon having the cabin to ourselves.

The visitor walked into every empty berth, and inspected it as carefully
as though he had been a Government surveyor. He beat upon the walls and
bulkheads with his cane, sent his brilliant gaze into the corners and
under the bunks and up at the ceiling, and finally said, as he stepped
from the last of the visitable cabins:--

"This decides me. I shall sail with you."

I bowed and said I was sure the captain would be glad of the pleasure of
his company.

"I presume," said he, "that no objection will be raised to my bringing a
native carpenter aboard to construct a secret place, as in the case of
the Koh-i-noor, for the Maharajah's diamond?"

[Illustration: "A SQUARE MOROCCO CASE."]

"I don't think a native carpenter would be allowed to knock the ship
about," said I.

"Certainly not. A little secret receptacle--big enough to receive this,"
said he, putting his hand in his side pocket and producing a square
Morocco case, of a size to berth a bracelet or a large brooch. "The
construction of a nook to conceal this will not be knocking your ship
about?"

"It's a question for the captain and the agents, sir," said I.

He replaced the case, whose bulk was so inconsiderable that it did not
bulge in his coat when he had pocketed it, and said, now that he had
inspected the ship and the accommodation, he would call at once upon the
agents. He gave me his card and left the vessel.

The card bore the name of a military officer of some distinction. Enough
if, in this narrative of a memorable and extraordinary incident, I speak
of him as Major Byron Hood.

The master of the _Jessamy Bride_ was Captain Robert North. This man
had, three years earlier, sailed with me as my chief