"Mr. Comstalk, my respect for you increases each moment." The rogue
sat down.

"And to whom might this handsome case belong?" I asked, examining it
closely.

"Oh, that has always been mine. There was a time,"--blowing rings at
the candelabrum,--"when I was respected like yourself, rich, sought
after. A woman and a trusted friend: how these often tumble down our
beautiful edifices! Yes, I am a scamp, a thief, a rogue; but not
because I need the money. No,"--with retrospective eyes--"I need
excitement, tremendous and continuous,--excitement to keep my vigilance
and invention active day and night, excitement to obliterate memory.

"But we can't do it, my friend, we can't do it. Memory is always with
us. She is an impartial Nemesis; she dogs the steps of the righteous
and the unrighteous. To obliterate memory, that is it! And where
might I find this obliteration, save in this life? Drugs? Pah! Oh, I
have given Haggerty a royal chase. It has been meat and drink to me to
fool the cleverest policeman in New York. Till yesterday my face, as a
criminal, was unknown to any man or woman, save William here, who was
my valet in the old days. I have gone to my clubs, dined, played
billiards; a fine comedy, a fine comedy! To-morrow William and I sail
for Europe. Miss Hawthorne, you wear one of the most exquisite rubies
I have ever seen. Permit me to examine it."

The girl tore the ring from her finger and flung it on the table. I
made a move as though to push back my chair.

"I wouldn't do it, sir," warned William quietly.

My muscles relaxed.

"Do not commit any rash action, Mr. Comstalk," said the girl, smiling
bravely into my eyes. "This gentleman would not appreciate it."

The master rogue picked up the ring and rolled it lovingly about his
palms.

"Beautiful, beautiful!" he murmured. "Finest pigeon-blood, too. It is
easily worth a thousand. Shall I give you my note of exchange for
it?"--humorously. The girl scorned to reply. He took out a little
chamois bag and emptied its contents on the table. How they sparkled,
scintillated, glowed; thousands in the whitest of stones! How he ever
had got his fingers on them is something I shall never learn. "Aren't
they just beautiful?" he asked naively. "Can you blame me for coveting
them?" He set the ruby on top of the glittering heap. It lay there
like a drop of blood. Presently he caught it up and--presented it to
the girl, who eyed him in astonis