Follow me carefully, Betteredge; and count me off on your fingers, if it will help you," says Mr.Franklin, with a certain pleasure in showing how clear-headed he could be, which reminded me wonderfully of old times when he was a boy.

"Question the first: Was the Colonel's Diamond the object of a conspiracy in India?
Question the second: Has the conspiracy followed the Colonel's Diamond to England?
Question the third: Did the Colonel know the conspiracy followed the Diamond; and has he purposely left a legacy of trouble and danger to his sister, through the innocent medium of his sister's child?
THAT is what I am driving at, Betteredge.
Don't let me frighten you." It was all very well to say that, but he HAD frightened me.
If he was right, here was our quiet English house suddenly invaded by a devilish Indian Diamond--bringing after it a conspiracy of living rogues, set loose on us by the vengeance of a dead man.

There was our situation as revealed to me in Mr.Franklin's last words! Who ever heard the like of it--in the nineteenth century, mind; in an age of progress, and in a country which rejoices in the blessings of the British constitution?
Nobody ever heard the like of it, and, consequently, nobody can be expected to believe it.

I shall go on with my story, however, in spite of that.
When you get a sudden alarm, of the sort that I had got now, nine times out of ten the place you feel it in is your stomach.

When you feel it in your stomach, your attention wanders, and you begin to fidget.