during which every eye,
except Mrs. Montague's, was fixed upon him, "the cross is ours--my own
private mark is on the back of the setting. And so," turning sternly
to the wretched woman near him, "you were the thief; you were the
unprincipled character who decoyed my son to that retreat for maniacs,
and nearly made one of me! Then, oh! what treachery! what duplicity!
When you feared that the net was closing about you and you would be
brought to justice, you sought to make a double dupe of me by a marriage
with me, imagining, I suppose, that I would suffer in silence, if the
theft was ever discovered, rather than have my name tarnished by a public
scandal. So you have sailed under many characters!" he went on, in a tone
of biting scorn. "You are the Mrs. Bently, of Chicago! the Mrs. Bent, of
Boston; Mrs. Vanderbeck and Mrs. Walton, of New York; and the woman in
St. Louis, who gave bail for the rascally miner, who tried to dispose of
the unset solitaires. Fortunately those have been proven to be mine and
returned to me; but where are the rest of the stones? I will have them,
every one," he concluded, in a tone so stern and menacing that the woman
shivered afresh.

"They were all together--they were all yours except two; but the cross,
we--we--"

Mrs. Montague proceeded thus far in a muffled, trembling tone, and then
her voice utterly failed her.

"You did not dare to try to sell too many at one time, and so you
reserved the cross for future use," Mr. Palmer supplemented. "Perhaps you
even intended to wear it under my very eyes, among your wedding finery.
I verily believe you are audacious enough to do so; but, madame, it will
be safe to say that there will be no wedding now, at least between you
and me."

The man turned abruptly, as he ceased speaking, and left the room,
looking fully a dozen years older than when, an hour previous, he had
come there, with hope in his heart, to plan with his bride-elect how
they could make their future home most attractive for her reception.

Ray felt a profound pity for his father, in this mortifying trial and
disappointment, and he longed to follow him and express his sympathy;
but his judgment told him that it would be better to leave him alone for
a time; that his wounded pride could ill-brook any reference to his
blighted hopes just then.

It may as well be related just here how Detective Rider happened to
appear so opportunely, and how Mona found the robes in which Mrs.
Mont