rom that
moment he and the now radiant Monsieur Bajeau got on finely together,
for Donald's French was much better than Monsieur's English; and, in
truth, the young man was very willing to practise speaking it in the
retirement of this quaint little shop. Their conversation shall be
translated here, however.

"Have you ever seen this before, sir?" asked Donald, taking the precious
necklace from the box and handing it to him over the little counter.

"No," answered the shop-keeper, shaking his head as he took the trinket.
"Ah! that is very pretty. No, not a very old chain. It is modern, but
very odd--very fine--unique, we say. Here are letters," as he turned the
clasp and examined its under side. "What are they? They are so small.
Your young eyes are sharp. Eh?" Here Monsieur bent his head and looked
inquiringly at Donald from over his spectacles.

"D. R.," said Don.

"Ah, yes! D. R.; now I see," as he turned them to the light. "D.
R.,--that is strange! Now, I think I have seen those same engraved
letters before. Why, my young friend, as I look at this little chain,
something carries the years away and I am a younger man. It brings very
much to mind--Hold!--No, it is all gone now. I must have made a
mistake."

Donald's heart beat faster.

"Did _you_ make the chain?" he asked.

"No, no, never. I never made a chain like it--but I have seen that chain
before. The clasp is very--very--You know how it opens?"

"It is rusty inside," explained Donald, leaning forward anxiously, lest
it should be injured. "We need not open it." Then controlling his
excitement, he asked as calmly as he could:

"You have seen it before, Monsieur?"

"I have seen it. Where is the key?"

"The key, Monsieur? What do you mean?"

"The key that opens the clasp," returned the Frenchman, with sudden
impatience. This American boy began to appear rather stupid in
Monsieur's eyes. Donald looked at him in amazement.

"Does it lock?"

"Does it lock?" echoed Monsieur. "Why, see here;" and with these words
he tried to press the upper part of the clasp aside. It stuck at first,
but finally yielded, sliding around from the main part on an invisible
little pivot, and disclosing a very small key-hole.

Donald stared at it in hopeful bewilderment. Evidently his uncle had
failed to find this key-hole, so deftly concealed!

The old man eyed his visitor shrewdly. Having been for some time a
dealer in rare bric-a-brac, he prided himself on being up to