The sleeping carriages on the Great Northern line were divided into
three compartments—one at each end for travellers, and one in the
centre fitted with the conveniences of a lavatory. A door running in
grooves separated each of the others from the lavatory; but as there
were neither bolts nor locks, the whole suite was practically common
ground.
When Mr. Rolles had studied his position, he perceived himself without
defence. If the Dictator chose to pay him a visit in the course of the
night, he could do no less than receive it; he had no means of
fortification, and lay open to attack as if he had been lying in the
fields. This situation caused him some agony of mind. He recalled with
alarm the boastful statements of his fellow-traveller across the
dining-table, and the professions of immorality which he had heard him
offering to the disgusted Prince. Some persons, he remembered to have
read, are endowed with a singular quickness of perception for the
neighbourhood of precious metals; through walls and even at
considerable distances they are said to divine the presence of gold.
Might it not be the same with diamonds? he wondered; and if so, who was
more likely to enjoy this transcendental sense than the person who
gloried in the appellation of the Diamond Hunter? From such a man he
recognised that he had everything to fear, and longed eagerly for the
arrival of the day.
In the meantime he neglected no precaution, concealed his diamond in
the most internal pocket of a system of great-coats, and devoutly
recommended himself to the care of Providence.
The train pursued its usual even and rapid course; and nearly half the
journey had been accomplished before slumber began to triumph over
uneasiness in the breast of Mr. Rolles. For some time he resisted its
influence; but it grew upon him more and more, and a little before York
he was fain to stretch himself upon one of the couches and suffer his
eyes to close; and almost at the same instant consciousness deserted
the young clergyman. His last thought was of his terrifying neighbour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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