ly fell into the friendliest discourse imaginable. In the
course of their talk, which after awhile became exceedingly
confidential, Jonathan confided to his new friend the circumstances of
the adventure into which he had been led by the beautiful stranger, and
to all that he said concerning his adventure his interlocutor listened
with the closest and most scrupulously riveted attention.

"Upon my word," said he, when Jonathan had concluded, "I hope that you
may not have been made the victim of some foolish hoax. Let me see what
it is she has confided to you."

"That I will," replied Jonathan. And thereupon he thrust his hand into
his breeches-pocket and brought forth the ivory ball.

No sooner did the one eye of the little gentleman in black light upon
the object than a most singular and extraordinary convulsion appeared
to seize upon him. Had a bullet penetrated his heart he could not have
started more violently, nor have sat more rigidly and breathlessly
staring.

Mastering his emotion with the utmost difficulty as Jonathan replaced
the ball in his pocket, he drew a deep and profound breath and wiped
the palm of his hand across his forehead as though arousing himself
from a dream.

"And you," he said, of a sudden, "are, I understand it, a Quaker. Do
you, then, never carry a weapon, even in such a place as this, where at
any moment in the dark a Spanish knife may be stuck betwixt your ribs?"

"Why, no," said Jonathan, somewhat surprised that so foreign a topic
should have been so suddenly introduced into the discourse. "I am a man
of peace and not of blood. The people of the Society of Friends never
carry weapons, either of offence or defence."

As Jonathan concluded his reply the little gentleman suddenly arose
from his chair and moved briskly around to the other side of the room.
Our hero, watching him with some surprise, beheld him clap to the door
and with a single movement shoot the bolt and turn the key therein.
The next instant he turned to Jonathan a visage transformed as suddenly
as though he had dropped a mask from his face. The gossiping and
polite little old bachelor was there no longer, but in his stead a man
with a countenance convulsed with some furious and nameless passion.

"That ball!" he cried, in a hoarse and raucous voice. "That ivory
ball! Give it to me upon the instant!"

As he spoke he whipped out from his bosom a long, keen Spanish knife
that in its every appearance spoke witho