sed to give up his share of the treasure.

On a windy Saturday morning--a week after the death of my poor
dog--I was loitering about the quays in the port, when I was
attracted towards a little crowd that had gathered round an old
capstan. The crowd consisted of several sailors and fishermen, with
a sprinkling of townsfolk, who were evidently much interested in
something that was going on in their midst.

I walked towards them and elbowed my way in beside old Davie Flett,
the skipper of a coasting schooner, with whom I was slightly
acquainted.

"What's all the stir, Mr. Flett?" I asked.

"Och, it's just an auld Jew doing some business," he replied; and I
pressed my way further into the crowd.

In the middle of the group there was a withered little man, bent
with age, with a long ragged beard and a nose like the beak of a
hawk. He wore a great black coat that was very shiny and reached
almost down to his ankles; and in his skinny fingers he held what I
soon recognized as the large red stone that Tom Kinlay had found at
Skaill. Tom himself was standing near the old Jew, and bargaining
with him for all the treasure that had fallen to his share.

The Jew had made some offer for the gem when I came up, and Kinlay
was deliberating whilst listening to the advice of the fishermen.

"Take his offer, lad," advised Jack Munroe.

"Ay, take it, Tommy," added another. "Ye'll mebbe never hae anither
such chance again."

"Nay, dinna be a fule," said Jim London. "The auld swindler kens
the thing's worth mair than he offers. Gar him gie ye anither ten
shillings."

"No, no," protested the Jew, speaking in broken English. "I not
want ze ting. Wot use I make of it?"

He was about to hand it back to Tom.

"Well, well," he continued, again examining the gem. "If you not
satisfy, den I gif you six shilling more; wot you say, eh? Dat make
ten pound and six shilling, English. It not worth one penny more, I
tell you."

"Mike it ten guineas," urged Kinlay.

"What! ten guineas? Himmel, mine child, you make me ruined!"
exclaimed the Jew.

"Give the lad the ten guineas and be done with it, Isaac," said a
young seaman who appeared to know him. "You'll get your own price
in Amsterdam."

"Well, ten guineas I will gif--two hundred and ten shilling!"

And the old Jew slowly counted out the money from a dirty canvas
bag that he took from his belt. I saw his little black eyes glitter
as he dropped the sparkling gem into the bag and b