SYNOPSIS.
At a private view of the Chatwort'.i per
sonal estate, to be sold at auction, the
Chatworth ring mysteriously disappears.
Harry Cressy, who was present, describes
the ring to his fiancee, Flora Gllsey, and
her chaperon, Mrs. Clara Brltton, aa be
ing like a heathen god, with a beautiful
sapphire set In the head. Flora discov
ers an unfamiliar mood in Harry, espe
cially when the ring is discussed. She
attends "ladies' night" at the club and
meets Mr. Kerr, an Englishman. It comes
out that the missing ring hns been known
as the Crew Idol. Its disappearance re
calls the exploits of Farrell Wand, an
English thief. Flora has a fancy that
Harry and Kerr are concerned in the
mystery. Kerr tells Flora that he has
met Harry somewhere, but cannot plnoo
him. A reward of $JO,0OO is offered for the
return of the ring. Harry admits to Flora
that he dislikes Kerr. They make an ap
pointment to select an engagement ring.
CHAPTER VI. Continued.
In the middle of the block, sunk a
little back from the fronts of the
others, the goldsmith's shop showed
single,' filmed window; and the pale
. flow through It proclaimed that the
fworker In metals preferred .another
light to the sun's. The threshold was
worn to a hollow that surprised the
foot; and the Interior Into which it
led them gloomed so suddenly around
them after the broad sunlight, that it
was a moment before they made out
he little man behind the counter, sit
ing bunched up on a high stool.
"Hullo, Joe," said Harry, in the
me voice that hailed his friends on
die street corners; but the goldsmith
only nodded like a nodding mandarin,
as If, without looking up, he took
them in and sensed their errand. He
wore a round, blue Chinese cap drawn
ever his crown; a pair of strange
goggles like a mask over his eyes, and
his little body seemed to poise as
lightly on his high stool as a wisp, as
if there were no more flesh In it than
in his long, dry fingers that so mar
velously manipulated the metal. Save
for that glitter of gold on his glass
plate, and the grin of a lighted brazier,
all was dark, discolored and cluttered.
Over everything was spread a dim
ness of age like dust. It enveloped
the little man behind the counter, not
with the frailness that belongs to
human age, but with that weathered,
polished hardness which time brings
' to antiques of wood and metal. In
deed, he appeared so like a carved
idol in a curio shop that Flora was a
little startled to find that he was look
ing at her.
"Harry," she murmured to Cressy,
who was stirring the contents of a
" box with a disdainful forefinger, "this
little man gives me the shivers."
"Old Joe?" Harry smiled indulgent
ly. "He's a queer customer. Been
quite a figurehead in Chinatown for 20
"years. Say, Joe, heap bad!" and with
the back of his band he flicked the
tray away from him.
The little man undoubted his knees
and descended the stool. He stood
breast-high bohind the counter. He
dropped a lack-luster eye to the box.
"Velly nice," he murmured with
vague, falling Inflection. -
"Oh, rotten!" Harry laughed at him.
"You no like?"
"No. No like. You got something
else something nice?"
"No." It was like a door closed
in the face of their hope that falling
inflection, that blank of vacuity that
settled over his face, and bis whole
drooping figure. ' He seemed to be
only mutely awaiting their departure
to climb back again on his high stool.
But Harry still leaned on the counter
and grinned ingratiatingly. "Oh, Joe,
' you good flen'. You got something
pretty maybe?"
The curtain of vacuity parted Just a
crack let through a gleam of intense
intelligence. "Maybe." The gold
smith chuckled deeply, as it Harry
tart unwittingly perpetrated some joke
some particularly clever conjurer's
trick. He sidled out behind the coun
ter, past the grinning brazier, and
shuffled into the back of the shop
where be opened a door.
Flora bad expected a cupboard, but
the vista it gave upon was a long,
black, Incredibly narrow passage, that
stretched away into gloom with all
the suggestion of distance of a road
going over a horizon. Down this the
goldsmith went, with bis straw slip
pers clapping on his heels, -until his
small figure merged in the gloom and
presently disappeared altogether, and
only the faint flipper-flap of his slip
pers came back growing more and
more distant to them, and finally dy
ing into silence. In the stillness that
followed while they waited they could
hear each other breathe. .
Then came the flipper-flap of the
goldsmith's slippers returning.'. The
sound snapped their tension, and Har
ry laughed.
"Lord knows bow far he went to
get it!" -
"Across the street?" Flora won
dered. "Or under it And It won't be worth
two bits when it gets' here." He
peered at the little man coming to
ward them down the passage, flapping
and shuffling, and carrying, held be
fore him in both hands, a square, deep
little box. -
It waa a worn, nondescript box that
, he set down before them, but the
Jealous way he had carried It had tug-
geeted treasure, and Flora leaned eag
erly forward as ho iIsed tho cover,
half expecting the blaze of a Jewel
case. She saw at first only dull shanks
of metal tumbled one upon the other.
But, after a moment's peering, be
tween them she caught gleams of
veritable light. Her fingers wont In
to retrieve a hoop of heavy sliver, In
the midst of which was sunk a flawed
topaz. ,She admired a moment the
play of light over tho imperfection.
"But this isn't Chinese," she ob
jected, turning her surprise on Harry.
"Lots of 'em aren't These men glean
everywhere."
She heard him dreamily. She was
wishing, as she turned over the tum
ble of damaged Jewels, that things so
pretty might have beenperfect To
find a perfect thing in this place
would be too extraordinary to hope
for. Yet, taking up the next, and the
next, she found herself wishing It
might be this one this cracked in
taglio. No? Then this blue one
say. The setting spoke nothing for it
It was a plain, thin, round hoop of
palpable brass, and the battered thing
seemed almost too feeble to hold the
solitary stone. But the stone! She
looked it full in the eye, the big, blaz
ing, blue eye of it She held it to the
light
She felt Harry move behind her. She
knew he couldn't but be looking at it
For how, by all that was marvelous,
had she for a moment doubted It?
Down to its very heart, which was
near to black, it was clear fire, and
outward towards the facets . struck
flaming hyacinth hues with zigzag
white cross-lights that dazzled and
mesmerized.
"Harry," she breathed, without tak
ing her gaze from the thing in her
hand, "do look at this!"
She felt him lean closer. Then with
an abrupt -"Let's see it," he took it
from her held it to the light, laid it
on his palm, looked sharply across
the counter at the shopkeeper, then
back at the ring with a long scrutiny.
His face, too, had a flush of excite
ment. "Is it good?" Flora faltered.
"A sapphire," he said, and taking
her third finger by the tip, he slid
on the thin circle of metal.
She breathed high, looking down at
the stone with eyes absorbed In the
blue fire. It was too beautiful. The
feeling It brought her was too sharp
for pure pleasure. It waB dimly like
fear. Yet Instinctively she shut her
hand about the ring. She murmured
out her wonder.
"How in the world did such a thing
come here?"
"Oh, not so strange," Harry answer
ed. "Sailors now and then pick up
a thing of whose value they have no
idea get hard up, and pawn It still
without any idea. These chaps" and
his bold hand indicated the shopkeep
er "take in anything that is, any
thing worth their while; and wait,
and wait, and watt until they see Just
the moment and turn It to account."
It might be because Harry's eyes
were so taken with the Jewel that hts
tongue ran recklessly. He had spoken
low, but Flora sent an anxious glance
to be sure the shopkeeper hadn't over
heard. She had . meant . only to
glance, but she found herself staring
into eyes that stared back from the
other side of the counter. That wide,
unwinking scrutiny filled her whole
vision. For an Instant she saw noth
ing butjthe dance of scintillant pupils.
Then, with a little gasp Bhe clutched
at her companion's arm.
"Oh, Harry!"
His glance came quickly round to
her. "Why, what's the matter?"
She murmured, "That Chinaman has
blue eyes."
; He looked at her with good-natured
wonder.
"Why, Flora, haven't you blue on
the brain? I believe he has, though,"
he added, as he peered across the
counter at the shopkeeper, whose gaze
now fluttered under narrowed lids;
"but why In the world should blue
eyes scare you?" His look returned
Indulgently to Flora's face.
She could not explain her reason of
fear to him. She only whispered back,
"But he Is awful!" - '
"Oh, I guess not," Harry grinned,
and turned hts back to the counter,
"only part white. Makes htm a little
sharper at a bargain." .
But, in spite of his off:bandedness,
Flora saw he was alert, touched with
excitement
"Do you like it, Flora?" he said.
"Do you want it?" -
"It is the most beautiful thing I
ever saw, but " She could not put It
to him why she shrank from It That
feeling which had touched her at the
first bad a little expanded, the sense
of the sapphire's sinister charm. She
faltered out as much as she could ex
plain. "It's too much for me."
"Oh, I guess not," he said again,
and with that he seemed to make an
end of her hesitation. She let him
draw the ring off her hand with a min
gled feeling of reluctance and relief.
She saw him turn briskly' to the shop
keeper. "Now, Joe, how much you want?"
That much she heard 'as Bhe turned
away with a fear lest it might and
a hope that it would be, too much for
him.
She lingered away to the door,
through whose, upper glazed half she
eaw the street swarming and sunny,
picked out with streamers of red and
squares of green. The murmur of
trafflo outside was faint to her ears.
The murmur of the two voioes talking
on Inside the shop momently grew
fainter. She looked behind her and
It Was Hersl 6he
saw them now In the back of the shop,
close by the grinning brazier.
The light of It showed what would
have been otherwise dark. It showed
her Harry, straddling, hands in pock
ets, hat thrust back, a silhouette as
hard as if. cast in cold metal. The as
pect of blm, thus, was strange, not
quite unlike himself, but giving her
the feeling that she had never known
how much Harry smoothed over.
Whatever they were arguing about
she found it bard to go on standing
thus with her back to it, and for sd
long, while her expectancy tightened,
and her unreasonable idea that she
did not want the ring, more and more
took hold of her. It he did not want
to sell It, why not let It go the beau
tiful thing!
She thought she would call Harry
and suggest It but no. She hesitated.
She would give them a chance to
finish It themselves. She would count
ten pigtails past the window first
She turned, and there they were
yet They had not moved. The shad
ow of the gesticulating little China
man danced like a bird on the wall,
and before him Harry glowed, immov
able, but ruddy, as If the hard metal
whereof he was cast waB slowly heat
lag through. The thought came to
her then. Harry was Iron! The hard
shade of hts profllo on the wall, the
stiff movement of his lips, the for
ward thrust of his head on his shoul
ders gave her another thought. Was
Harry also brutal?
What she expected of Harry, a vio
lent act or a quick relaxation of hts
iron mood, she had not time to consid
er, for the shopkeeper had moved.
He was Jerking his head, his thumb,
and finally his arm In the direction of
the long, dim passage such a pointed
direction, such a singular gesture, as
to startle her with Its Incongruity.
What had that to do with the price of
the ring? And if it had nothing to
do with the price of the ring, what
had . they been talking about? Her
small scruple against knowing what
was going on behind her was forgot
ten. Indeed, now she was oblivious of
everything else. She was taking it in
with all her eyes, when Harry turned
and looked at her. And, oddly
enough she thought he looked as
if he wondered how she came
there. She saw him return to it
slowly. Then, in a flash, he met her
brilliantly. He came toward her out
of the gloom, holding the ring before
him, as if with the light of that and
the flash of his smile, he was anxious
immediately to cover his deficit
"I had the very devil of a time get
ting it" he said. "The little beggar
didn't want to let me have It" But
there was a subsiding excitement in
his face, and a something in his man
ner, both triumphant and troubled,
which his explanation did not reason
ably account for.
"Harry" she hesitated "are you
quite sure it's all right?"
"All right?" The sudden edge in hts
voice made her look at him. "Why,
it's genuine, it that's what you mean."
It hadn't been, quite; but her mean
ingas too vague to put into words
a mere sensation of uneasiness. She
watched Harry turn the ring over, as
if he were reluctant to let it go out
of hla hands. ' And then, looking at
her, she thought his glance was a lit
tle uncertain. She thought he hesi
tated, and when he finally slid the
ring over her finger, '1 wouldn't wear
Did Not Believe It
it until It Is reset," he said. "That
setting Isn't gold. It's hardly decent."
"Yes," she assented; "Clara will
laugh at us."
"She won't If we don't show It to
her until It's fit to appear. In fact, I
would rather you wouldn't" As It Is
now the thing doesn't represent my
gift to you."
She felt this was Harry's conven
tional streak asserting Itself. But
even she had to admit that an engage
ment ring which was palpably not
gold was rather out of the way.
"You'd better keep it a day or two
and look it over and make up your
mind how you want it set, and then
we'll spring it on them," be advised.
But now it was finally on her fin
ger, she did not want to think it
would ever have to be taken oft
again.
CHAPTER VII.
A Spell It Cast.
It was hers! She did not believe it.
It had been done too quickly. It
seemed to her Bhe had hardly felt
Harry slip it on her finger before
they had left the shop; that she had
hardly shaken off the musty Inclosed
atmosphere, before Harry had left her
on the corner of California and Powell
streets left her alone with the ring!-
She went over whole dramas Im
aginary histories of chance and clr
cumstance woven about the ring, as
she walked up and down the long
windy hills, westward and homeward,
the blue bay on the one hand beaten
green under the rising "trade," and
the fog coming In before her. With
the experience of the morning, and
the exercise and the lively air, her
spirits were riding high. From time
to time Bhe had tho greatest longing
to peep again at the sapphire, but not
until the house door had closed after
her did she dare draw off her glove
and look. It was still glorious. What
a pity she must take it off!
But even in the refuge of her 'own
rooms the ring Inclrcled Flora with
unease. The light of it on her finger
made her restless. It wasn't that she
was apprehensive of it, but she could
not forget it She could hear the
maid Marrlka moving about In the
room beyond. She slipped It oft her
finger on to the dressing table, and It
lay among her laces like a purple
prism, caBt by some unearthly sun in
a magic glass. She had Jewels, ru
bles even the most precious but
nothing that gave her this sense of In
dividual beauty, of beauty so keen as
to be disturbing. She emptied her
Jewel casket In a glittering heap
around it It shone out unquenched.
Marrlka was coming in, and quickly
Flora swept the Jewels and the sap
phire back Into the casket, turned the
key upon them and 'thrust it back in
the far corner of the drawer. She
would give every one a great surprise
when the ring was properly set She
glanced nervously over her shoulder
to see if Marrlka had noticed her
action. The Russian had been mov
ing to and fro between the wardrobe
and the dressing table with a droning
thread of song.
All the while Flora was being
combed and laced and hooked her
eyes were alertly 'on the dressing
table drawer that remained a little
open; and presently she caught her
self vaguely speculating on how. after
ha had been fastened up and into her
clothes so Becurely, sho could dispose i
upon herself the Bapphlre. How had
she arrived at this consideration? No
cotirso of reasoning led tip to It She
was annoyed with herself. If she
wasn't going to wear the ring on her
nnger, ana snow it, why a'.d she want i
to take it with her at all? For fear
It might be lost? Lost, In her Jewel
box, In the back of the drawer! She
blushed for herself.
Through the long afternoon It was
more apparent to her than the faces
of tho people around her.' She was
restless to get back to It but people
talked interminably. At the luncheon
they talked of Kerr. Flora knew these
girls felt a little resentment that she
had at easily captured Harry Cressy;
for Harry had been more than an
eligible man In tire little city. He
had been an eligible personage. Not
that he had money; not that his fami
ly tree -was plainly planted in their
mldlst; but that without these two
things he bad achieved what, with
these, the people he knew were all
striving for. He stood before them
as the embodiment of what they most
believed In perfect bodily splendor,
and perfect knowledge of how to get
on in the world; and the fact that he
wouldn't qulto be one of them, but
after five years still stood a little off
made htm shine ' with greater bril
liance, especially In the eyes of these
girls. It was hard, they seemed to
feel, that such on apparently remote
and difficult person should have suc
cumbed so easily; and now that a new
luminary of equal luster was appar
ent In their sky, Flora felt their re
marks a little triumphantly aimed at
her.
But between the thread of interest
the table group wove together, kept
flashing up her furtive desire to be
away, to be at home, to see what had
happened to the sapphire. Of course,
she knew that nothing could have hap
pened; but she wanted to look at it,
to open the casket and see the flash
of It before her eyes.
They were dining early that night
on account of the Bullcrs' box party,
but It was nearly eight o'clock before
Flora reached the house. And it was,
of course, for that reason that she ran
upstairs ran wildly, regadlessly, be
fore the eyes of Shlma and along the
hall, her high heels clacking on the
hard floors, and through her bedroom
to the dressing room, snatched open
the table drawer, unlocked the casket
with a twitch of the key and, ah, It
was there! It was really real! Why,
what had she expected? She was
laughing at herself.
She was gay In her relief at getting
back to the sapphire, but at the same
time she was already wondering what
she should do about It that night
take It with her or leave It alone?
Dared she wear It on her finger under
her glove? Clara might notice the
unfamiliar form of the Jewel through
the thin kid. Flora watched her curi
ously across the table that evening,
wondering what was that quality of
her by which she acquired. Hitherto
Flora had accepted it as a fact with
out question, but now she had a desire
to place It. It was not beauty, for
Clara was pretty, like a polished
Qreuze, she was colorless and flavor
less, lacking the vivid heat of mag
netism. More probably It consisted
In a certain sort of sweetness Clara
could produce on occasions, a way she
had of looking and speaking which
Flora could only describe as smooth.
She mado up her mind to leave the
sapphire at home; but in her last
moment in her room the resolution
failed. Harry, of course, would be
angry If he knew, but Harry wouldn't
see the thing under her glove.
She came down to where Clnra was
waiting for her, with the guilty feel
ing of a child who has cpncealed a
contraband cake; but tho way Clnra
looked her over made her conscious
that she had not concealed her ex
citement CHAPTER VIII.
A 8park of Horror. '
They found Harry waiting for them
in the theater lobby. He had come up
too late from Burllngame to do more
than meet the party there. The
Bullers were already in the box, he
said, and the second act of 'T Pagllac
ci" Just beginning.
As they came to the door of the box
the lights were down, the curtain up
on a dim stage, and the chorus still
floating Into the roof, while the three
occupants of 'the box were Indistin
guishable figures, risen up and shuf
fling chairs to the front for Flora and
Clara. It was too dark to distinguish
faces.
But dark as It was. Flora knew
who was sitting behind her. She heard
him speaking. Under the notes of the
recitative he waa speaking to Clara.
The pleasure of finding him here was
sharpened by the surprise,
L Then, us the tenor took up EHe
theme, all talking ceased fciia s
husky whisper, Clara's smoother syl
lables, and the flat, slow, variable
voice of Kerr the whole house
seemed to sink into stiller repose; the
high chords floated above the heads
of the black plt like colored bubbles,
and Flora forget the sapphire in the
triple spell of the singing, the dark
ness, and the face she was yet to see.
The stage was a narrow shelf of
wood swung in that void, from which
the voice sang, and a bare finger of
light, followed it about from place to
place. . The sweet, searching tenor
notes, the semblance of passion and
reality the gesticulating Frenchman
r l
threw over all the stage, and the cre
scendo of the tragedy carried her Into
a mood that barred out Ella, barred
out Clara, barred out Harry more
than any; but, unaccountably, Kerr
was still with her. He was there by
no will of hers, but by Borne essence
of his own, some quality that linked
him, as It linked her, to the 'passion
ate subtleties of life. He seemed to
her the eager spirit that wos prompt
ing and putting forward this comedy
and tragedy playing on before her.
Sho heard hlra reasserted, vigorous,
lawless, wandering In the voice of the
mimic strolling player, addressing his
mimic audience. The appeal of the
tenor to the voiceless galleries, "Un
derneath this little play we show,
there Is another play," seemed Indeed
the very voice of Kerr repeating Itself.
The lights went up with a spring. A
wave of motion flickered over the
house, the talking voices burst forth
all at once, and she saw him, really
saw him for the first time that even
ing, as In her fancy, part of the au
dience; as In her fancy, neither ap
plauding nor dissenting, yet with
what a difference! He leaned back In
hla chair, and leaned his head a little
back, as If, for weariness, he wished
there were a rest behind it; and how
Indifferently, how critically, how lev
elly he surveyed the fluttered house,
and the figures in the box beside hlml
How foreign be appeared to the ardent
spirit who had dominated the dark;
how emptied of the heat of Imagina
tion, how worn, how dry; and even la
his salience, how singularly pathetic!
She felt a lump In her throat aa
ache of the cruelest disappointment,
as though some masker, masking aa
the fire of life, had suddenly removed
the coverings of hts face and showed
her the burnt-out bones beneath. She
found herself looking at him through
a mist of tears there In the heart of
publicity, In the middle of the circle
of velvet curtains!
He turned and saw her. She watch
ed a smile of the frankest pleasure
rising, as It were, to the surface of
his weary preoccupation. Something
had delighted him. Why, it was her
self Just her being there! And she
could only helplessly blink at him.
Was ever anything so stupid as to ba ,
caught in tears over nothing! He
straightened and leaned forward.
"Ileally," he said, "you must re
member that little man has only gone
out for a glass of beer."
So he thought It was the tenor who
had brought her to the point of tears.
"Ah, why do you say that?" she pro
tested. ' . ,
He. continued to smile indulgently
upon her. "Would you really rather
believe, it true?"
"I don't know. But I wish you
hadn't thought of the beer."
He brought the glace of his monocle
to bear full upon her. "Why not? It
is all we make sure of."
"Oh, if to be sure Is all you want,"
she burst out; "but you don't mean
it! Wouldn't you rather have some
thing beautiful you weren't sure of,
than something certain that didn't
matter?"
He nodded to this quite casually, aa
If It were an old acquaintance.
"Oh, yes; but the time comes round
when you want to be sure of some
thing. The sun never sets twice alike
over Mont Pelee; but you can always
get the same brand of lager to-day
that you bad the week before." He
looked at her with a faint amusement
"No, no! I won't believe you," she
stoutly denied him. "There Is more
in life than you can touch. You're
not like yourself to say there Is not"
He laughed, but rather shortly.
"My dear child, forgive me; I'm sulky
to-night I feel, as I felt at 18, that
the world has treated me badly. I've
lost my luck."
"I'm sorry." Her tone was sweetly
vague. What could be the matter
with him? Then, half timidly, she
rallied htm. "If you go on like this,
I shall have to show you my talis
man." "Oh, have you indeed a talisman?"
he humored her. And it was aa if he
said: "Oh, have you a doll?" He did
not even turn his head to look at her.
She was chilled. She felt the disap
pointment that his quick smile had
lightened, return upon her. She hard
ly noticed the rise of the curtain on
the second little play, and the ting
ing voices did not reach her ' with
any poignancy. She wag , vaguely
aware of movements in the box of
Harry's coming in, of Clara's little
rustle making room for him, of the
shift ot Ella's chair away from the
business of listening, toward him, and
her husky whisper going on with
some prolonged tale ot dull escapade;
but to Flora they all made only a
banal background for the brooding si
lence ot her companion.
(TO BE CONTINUED.) -
The Oasis of Love.
The mind's eye shows us love at the
oasis in the Sahara of life; so, to
gether, two set out to seek the haven
of rest in the great Journey. . But
the travelers approach, their paradise
recedes; in Just such measure as the -pilgrims
hasten, their Mecca retreat.
Love is a witching -' chimera life's
most beautiful optical delusloa.
1