ed it an opal. It shot lights as
beautiful and awful as the intensest flame. And something in the eyes
of this mighty man brought back to Kenkenes the memory of the fires of
that wondrous gem.

The stranger stood in profound meditation, his splendid head gradually
sinking until it rested on his breast. The arms hung by the sides.
The attitude suggested a sorrow healed by the long years until it was
no more a pain, but a memory so subduing that it depressed. At last
the great man sank to his knees, with a movement quite in keeping with
his grandeur and his mood, and bowed his head on his arms.

Pressed down with awe, Kenkenes followed his example, and although he
seemed to kneel on some rough chisel mark in the floor, he did not
shift his position. The discomfort seemed appropriate as penitence on
that holy occasion.

After a long time the stranger arose, took up the torch and quitted the
chamber. He went away more slowly than he had come, with reluctant
step and averted face.

When night and profound silence were restored in the crypt, Kenkenes
regained his feet and, examining the irritated knee, found the
offending object clinging to the impression it had made in the flesh.
The shape of the trifle sent a wild hope through his brain. Groping
through the dark, he found his lamp and lighted it with trembling hands.

He held the lapis-lazuli signet!

He did not move. He only grasped the scarab tightly and panted. The
sudden change from intense suspense to intense relief had deprived him
of the power of expression. Only his physical make-up manifested its
rebellion against the shock.

As the tumult in his heart subsided, his mind began to confront him
with happy fancies. Rachel was already free. In that moment of
exuberance he thrust aside, as monstrous, the bar of different faith.
He believed he could overcome it by the very compelling power of his
love and the righteousness of his cause. He spent no time picturing
the method of his triumph over it. Beyond that obstacle were tender
pictures of home-making, love and life, which so filled him with
emotion that, in a sudden ebullition of boyish gratitude, he pressed
the all-potent signet to his lips.

Then, his cheeks reddening with a little shame at his impulsiveness, he
examined the scarab. The cord by which it had been suspended passed
through a small gold ring between the claws of the beetle. This had
worn very thin and some slight wrench had bro