. Ashton talked continually of China,
and referred frequently to "it," and to "the stone," although at the
time I did not grasp the meaning of their references. I attempted
without much success to carry on a conversation with Miss Temple, but
she seemed laboring under intense excitement and unable to give my
efforts any real attention, so I gradually found myself listening to the
talk between Major Temple and Mr. Ashton. As near as I could gather, the
latter had set out from Hong Kong some months before, on a search for a
certain stone or jewel which Major Temple desired for his collection,
and after an adventurous trip during which he had been forced at the
risk of his life to remain disguised as a coolie for some weeks, had
finally escaped and returned to England. There was also some talk of a
reward, though of what nature I did not understand, but it seemed to
give Mr. Ashton great satisfaction, and to cause Major Temple much
uneasiness every time it was mentioned, and I saw him glance frequently,
covertly, at the blanched face of his daughter. As Mr. Ashton brought
his thrilling story to a conclusion, he drew from his waistcoat pocket a
small, green leather case, evidently of Chinese workmanship, and,
opening it, turned out upon the white cloth what I at first thought to
be a small figure of green glass, which on closer inspection proved to
be a miniature representation of the god Buddha, standing somewhat above
an inch and a half in height, and wonderfully cut from a single
flawless emerald. I looked up at Ashton in amazement as he allowed the
gas light to play upon its marvelous beauty of color and the delicate
workmanship of its face and figure, then rolled it across the table
toward Miss Temple. It represented the well-known figure of the god,
sitting with arms extended upon its knees, its face so exquisitely
chiseled that the calm, beneficent smile was as perfect, the features as
exact, as though the figure had been of life size. As the wonderful
sparkling gem flashed across the white cloth in the direction of Miss
Temple, the latter started back in dismay and an expression of intense
horror passed over her face as she looked up and caught the burning eyes
of Mr. Ashton fixed upon hers. She returned his gaze defiantly for a
moment, then lowered her eyes and composed her features behind the cold
and impassive mask she had worn throughout the evening.

Ashton flushed a sullen red, then picked up the jewel and set