me a cent, and
still make Fluette and the world believe that I had bought the ruby.

"Nice thing for the Paternostros," says I, "when all this comes out."

Cristofano turned green. He begged me not to tell. He promised me the
pick of his gems if I 'd only keep the secret.

I looked at him pretty sour. "Very well," says I at last. "You give
me the imitation stone. I 'll never disclose the fact that you did n't
have the original ruby, _if you will announce to the world that it was
sold to me for $500,000_. As long as you keep your mouth shut, I 'll
keep mine."

He was tickled to death. Nothing would do but he must have in the rest
of the firm (his brother and cousin). When they came I had a written
contract prepared for them, setting forth the terms of our agreement
and binding them with a penalty heavy enough to keep them from
blabbing. (Contract memo. attached hereto.)

How long we remained silent in the midst of a speechless wonder, I
haven't the least idea. Words were wholly inadequate even feebly to
express the mingled feelings with which we slowly digested the full
force and import of this remarkable document.

So the very heart and essence of the tragedy, the crimson woof that
knitted together the dark warp of its fabric, had all along been unreal
and without substance! For a gem that can not be applied to its
ordained function can scarcely be said to have an existence. Yet the
Paternoster ruby had been potent to project its maleficent influence
from the depths of its watery grave, and shape the destinies of the
living. Verily, Fate never played a grimmer joke.

My thoughts drifted back to the night of the murder. Why had Felix
Page paused beside the table while going between the hidden safe and
Maillot, who was waiting in the library? I could imagine only one
explanation: as he passed the table he was seized with a sudden impulse
to impart the secret to the young man, even going to the extent of
setting down the jewel-box so that one hand would be free to manipulate
the tack-heads. But a second thought had prevailed. He picked up the
box and proceeded on his way.

Genevieve, round-eyed, sat staring into the dying fire. (That was a
jolly fire!) Presently her head bent over to my shoulder, and without
looking up she quoted a familiar couplet which must have occurred to
the reader ere this:

"Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean bear."

I menti