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 how 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.
And there for a while I came to a check But one step more up the ladder of thought brought all in view.