utes. The elevator carried off the detective,
the policemen, and their two prisoners. The door closed behind Dunham and
his bride, and the curious guests who had peered out, alarmed by the
uproar, saw nothing but a few bell-boys standing in the hall, describing
to one another the scene as they had witnessed it.

"He stood here and I stood right there," said one, "and the policeman, he
come----"

The guests could not find out just what had happened, but supposed there
had been an attempted robbery, and retired behind locked doors to see that
their jewels were safely hidden.

Dunham drew the trembling girl into his arms and tried to soothe her. The
tears rained down the white cheeks as her head lay upon his breast, and he
kissed them away.

"Oh!" she sobbed, shuddering. "If you had not come! It was terrible,
_terrible_! I believe he would have killed me rather than have let me go
again."

Gradually his tender ministrations calmed her, but she turned troubled
eyes to his face.

"You do not know yet that I am all I say. You have nothing to prove it. Of
course, by and by, when I can get to my guardians, and with your help
perhaps make them understand, you will know, but I don't see how you can
trust me till then."

For answer he brought his hand up in front of her face and turned the
flashing diamond--her diamond--so that its glory caught the single ray of
setting sun that filtered into the hotel window.

"See, darling," he said. "It is your ring. I have worn it ever since as an
outward sign that I trusted you."

"You are taking me on trust, though, in spite of all you say, and it is
beautiful."

He laid his lips against hers. "Yes," he said; "it is beautiful, and it is
best."

It was very still in the room for a moment while she nestled close to him
and his eyes drank in the sweetness of her face.

"See," said he, taking a tiny velvet case from his pocket and touching the
spring that opened it. "I have amused myself finding a mate to your stone.
I thought perhaps you would let me wear your ring always, while you wear
mine."

He lifted the jewel from its white velvet bed and showed her the
inscription inside: "Mary, from Tryon." Then he slipped it on her finger
to guard the wedding ring he had given her at the church. His arm that
encircled her clasped her left wrist, and the two diamonds flashed side by
side. The last gleam of the setting sun, ere it vanished behind the tall
buildings on the west, glanced