ing awfully
at Gentle Annie. "You slut, give me back my ring."

"Walk straight out, mister," said the goldsmith, quietly, "and don't
call the lady names, or you'll repent it. She happens to be my
particular friend. And let me tell you before you go, that the one
thing that will save you from the hangman's noose is that you don't
set foot inside this door again. D'you hear?"

"Yes," said the robber.

"You understand my meaning?"

"Perfectly."

"Then let him out, Annie."

The door swung open, Carnac walked slowly into the night, and Tresco and
Gentle Annie were alone.

The goldsmith heaved a sigh of relief. "Haaaah! Close thing, very close;
but Benjamin was just one too many for him. You see, brains _will_ come
out on top. Kindly bolt the door, my dear."

He picked up Carnac's revolver, placed it on the table, sat down, wiped
his brow, and again gave vent to another sigh of relief.

"My dear, it's brought on my usual complaint--desperate thirst. Phaugh!
a low-lived man, and in this house, too! In the house of my little
woman, curse him!"

Gentle Annie placed a glass and a bottle before him, and the goldsmith
drank.

"What's that about a ring, my dear? Did I understand he had given you a
ring?"

The girl took the precious diamond from her finger, and handed it to
Tresco.

"Why, it's my own work--I recognise the setting; I remember the stone.
Thirty pounds that ring is worth; thirty pounds, if a penny. Did he
steal it, or buy it, I wonder?"

"Bought it, he said."

"If so, he's not mean, anyway. I tell you what I'll do--I'll buy it back
from you. It's not right you should be defiled by wearing such a man's
ring."

"He shall have it back--I'll give it him."

"No, my dear. What he has given, he has given. Thirty pounds."

From his pocket he drew a small linen bag, from which he took eight or
ten small nuggets. These he balanced in his palm.

"Seven ounces," he said, contemplatively. "Say eight, to give you good
value. That's it, my dear." With a bump he placed the gold on the table.
"This ring is now mine. The work is of the best; never did I take more
care or pride in my craft than when I set that stone. But it has been in
the hands of a vile fellow; it is polluted."

He rose from his chair, placed the jewel on the hearthstone, and
fiercely ground the precious stone beneath his iron-shod heel, and flung
the crushed and distorted gold setting into the fire.

"That you should have been so much as t