k it with a murmur of thanks, and stood hesitating, possessed by
a very curious feeling of dread.

"Open it!" said Noel impatiently.

"Open it for her!" said Sir Reginald, divining a certain amount of
nervousness as the cause of her hesitation.

Noel held out a hand for the key, and she gave it to him. There was a
sudden hush and a little thrill of expectation in the motley crowd
gathered round as he turned to fit it into the lock.

The key did not fit in very easily; it seemed to meet with some
obstruction. With a frown Noel pulled it out again. "What's the matter
with the thing?" he said irritably.

"Try it the other way up!" suggested Sir Reginald.

"I believe it's a hoax," said a man in the crowd.

Noel turned the key upside down amid an interested silence, and began to
insert it again in the lock.

As he did so, there came a sudden cry from the background, a man's voice
shrill and warning.

"Leave the thing alone! It's a bomb! I tell you, it's a bomb!"

"What?" The crowd scattered backwards as though a thunderbolt had fallen
in its midst, and a woman shrieked in panic.

A man--wild, unkempt, ragged--tore like a maniac over the polished
floor, making for the group at the table, waving one skinny arm.

"Noel! You damn' fool! Leave the thing alone!"

Noel whizzed round with the key in his hand. "Hullo,--Nick!" he said.

"Leave it alone! Leave it alone!" The voice dropped to a hoarse croak.
The man was close to the table now, and in amazement Olga recognized the
face of the old moonstone-seller. But it was convulsed with a terror
such as she had never seen on the face of any man.

The bony hand darted out towards the casket, and her heart stood still.
She knew that hand--wiry, energetic, capable.

"Nick!" she whispered. "Nick!"

He brushed her aside, and, again in that dry, breathless croak, "There
isn't--a moment--to lose!" he said.

In another instant he would have had the shining thing in his grasp, but
in that instant Noel's wits leaped to full understanding. He wheeled,
caught the newcomer by his tattered garment, and flung him violently
away.

"All right, you old joker!" he said. "My job!"

Dazed with horror, though still scarcely realizing, Olga saw him turn
and lift the ivory casket, holding it clasped firmly between his hands.
Then, with a set face, stepping warily, he moved to the window close
behind.

In the other part of the room women were crying and men deeply cursing;
but there