most famous of all bracelets.
Made by Spurius Quintus of Rome in 47 B.C., it was given by Caesar to
Cleopatra, who tried without success to dissolve it in vinegar.
Returning to Rome by way of Antony, it was worn at a minor conflagration
by Nero, after which it was lost sight of for many centuries. It was
eventually heard of during the reign of Canute (or Knut, as his admirers
called him); and John is known to have lost it in the Wash, whence it
was recovered a century afterwards. It must have travelled thence to
France, for it was seen once in the possession of Louis XI; and from
there to Spain, for Philip the Handsome presented it to Joanna on her
wedding day. Columbus took it to America, but fortunately brought it
back again; Peter the Great threw it at an indifferent musician; on one
of its later visits to England Pope wrote a couplet to it. And the most
astonishing thing in its whole history was that now for more than a
hundred years it had vanished completely. To turn up again in a little
Devonshire cottage! Verily, truth is stranger than fiction.

"That's rather a curious bracelet of yours," said Adrian casually.
"My--er--wife has one just like it, which she asked me to match. Is it
an old friend, or would you care to sell it?"

"My mother gave it me," said the old woman, "and she had it from hers. I
don't know no further than that. I didn't mean to sell it, but----"

"Quite right," said Adrian, "and, after all, I can easily get another."

"But I won't say a bit of money wouldn't be useful. What would you think
a fair price, sir? Five shillings?"

Adrian's heart jumped. To get the Emperor's bracelet for five shillings!

But the spirit of the collector rose up strong within him. He laughed
kindly.

"My good woman," he said, "they turn out bracelets like that in
Birmingham at two shillings apiece. And quite new. I'll give you
tenpence."

"Make it one-and-sixpence," she pleaded. "Times are hard."

Adrian reflected. He was not, strictly speaking, impoverished. He could
afford one-and-sixpence.

"One-and-tuppence," he said.

"No, no, one-and-sixpence," she repeated obstinately.

Adrian reflected again. After all, he could always sell it for ten
thousand pounds, if the worst came to the worst.

"Well, well," he sighed. "One-and-sixpence let it be."

He counted out the money carefully. Then, putting the precious bracelet
in his pocket, he rose to go.

. . . . .

Adrian