gems are
priceless. They were the dowry of a princess. But they are hers
now--yes, my dear, they are yours--because you spoke sweetly, and smiled
prettily, and were very good to a lonely old man--and because you have
my mother's face, dear, a smile that recalls the days of my youth. Lift
out the box and take it away with you, if you are strong enough,--you,
you,' he said, touching Lord Hartfield. 'Hide it somewhere--keep it from
_her_. Let no one know--no one except your wife and you must be in the
secret.'

'My dear sir, it is out of the question--impossible that my wife or I
should accept one of those coins--or the smallest of those jewels.'

'Why not, in the devil's name?'

'First and foremost, we do not know how you came in possession of them;
secondly, we do not know who you are.'

'They came to me fairly enough--bequeathed to me by one who had the
right to leave them. Would you have had all that gold left for an
adventurer to wallow in?'

'You must keep your treasure, sir, however it may have come to you,'
answered Lord Hartfield firmly. 'My wife cannot take upon herself the
burden of a single gold coin--least of all from a stranger. Remember,
sir, to us your possession of this wealth--nay, your whole existence--is
a mystery.'

'You want to know who I am?' said the old man drawing himself up, with a
sudden _hauteur_ which was not without dignity, despite his shrunken
form and grotesque appearence. 'Well, sir. I am----'

He checked himself abruptly, and looked round the room with a scared
expression.

'No, no, no,' he muttered; 'caution, caution! They have not done with me
yet; she warned me--they are lying in wait; I mustn't walk into their
trap.' And then turning to Lord Hartfield, he said, haughtily, 'I shall
not condescend to tell you who I am, sir. You must know that I am a
gentleman, and that is enough for you. There is my gift to your
wife'--pointing to the chest--'take it or leave it.'

'I shall leave it, sir, with all due respect.'

A frightful change came over the old man's face at this determined
refusal. His eyes glowered at Lord Hartfield under the heavy scowling
brows; his bloodless lips worked convulsively.

'Do you take me for a thief?' he exclaimed. 'Are you afraid to touch my
gold--that gold for which men and women sell their souls, blast their
lives with shame, and pain, and dishonour, all the world over? Do you
stand aloof from it--refuse to touch it, as if it were infected? And
y