Summary

Portrait of L. T. Meade L. T. Meade Stories of the Sanctuary Club…

The next instant, to my intense relief, I heard the clamour of approaching voices, quick footsteps hurried down the corridor, and Chetwynd and Kort, holding lights, rushed in. To release me from my bonds was the work of a moment, and then Kort ran up to Banpfylde and turned the light full on his face. Chetwynd and I gazed in horrified silence at what a moment before had been a man—living, breathing, in the full possession of every faculty. The terrific explosion had done its deadly work—the Diana Sapphire had avenged itself—a large portion of the man's skull had absolutely been blown away.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of L. T. Meade L. T. Meade Stories of the Sanctuary Club…

Had Kort stolen the priceless sapphire? Was Sherwin right in his suspicions of the man whom I also deeply distrusted? What was the story of Isobel? Why had Sherwin died with his secret unrevealed?
“At least one thing is true,” said Chetwynd, turning suddenly to me in that moment of stillness in which it almost seemed as if Kort and I were challenging each other. “At least one thing is obvious: the Diana Sapphire has proved the truth of its own legend. It has vanished from our sight.”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of L. T. Meade L. T. Meade Stories of the Sanctuary Club…

Banpfylde stepped forward. I heard him utter a sudden exclamation, and then he stared at the gem without speaking; his eyes were widely dilated, the magnificent sapphire was gleaming and scintillating beneath the glare of the incandescents. Chetwynd, too, uttered a sharp exclamation, and also stepped forward to examine the gem. Banpfylde was now peering into the crystal—he turned round.
“Yes,” he said, quietly, “you are quite right, Sherwin; there is no other stone in the world to equal it.”
Source: Wikisource

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