into the plush-covered parlor, he
revealed his share in the conspiracy by producing, with the skill of a
conjurer taking a rabbit from a silk hat, a minister and a marriage
license, the former having been hidden in the house of a neighbor. And
Jonathan K. McGuire, with something of an air, fully justified by the
difficulties he had been at to secure it, produced a pasteboard box,
which contained another box of beautiful white velvet, which he opened
with pride, exhibiting its contents. On the soft satin lining was a
brooch, containing a ruby as large as Beth's thumbnail.

With a gasp of joy, she gazed at it, for she knew just what it was, the
family jewel that had been sold to the purser of the _Bermudian_. And
then she threw her arms around McGuire's neck and kissed him.

* * * * *

Some weeks later Beth and Peter sat at dusk in the drawing-room of Black
Rock House, for McGuire had turned the whole place over to them for the
honeymoon. The night was chilly, a few flakes of snow had fallen during
the afternoon, so a log fire burned in the fireplace. Peter sat at the
piano playing the "Romance" of Sibelius, for which Beth had asked, but
when it was finished, his fingers, impelled by a thought beyond his own
control, began the opening rumble of the "Revolutionary Etude." The
music was familiar to Beth and it stirred her always because it was
this gorgeous plaint of hope and despair that had at the very first
sounded depths in her own self the existence of which she had never even
dreamed. But to-night Peter played it as she had never heard him play it
before, with all his soul at his finger tips. And she watched his
downcast profile as he stared at vacancy while he played. It was in
moments like these that Beth felt herself groping in the dark after him,
he was so far away. And yet she was not afraid, for she knew that out of
the dreams and mysticism of the half of him that was Russian he would
come back to her,--just Peter Nichols.

He did presently, when his hands fell upon the last chords and he sat
with head still bowed until the last tremor had died. Then he rose and
turned to her. She smiled at him and he joined her on the divan. Their
fingers intertwined and they sat for a long moment looking into the
fire. But Beth knew of what he was thinking and Peter knew that she
knew. Their honeymoon was over. There was work to do in the world.

+----------------------------------