fe is a fool as well as a knave.
To the note she shall sign her husband's name. That I will bring to
pass. But you know nothing of this. Of course not. You suppose that the
signature is genuine. You are unaware that Percival is out of town. And
I--if I am guilty--I am with my guilty knowledge in the hut in the
mountains of India. Do you not think that while you hold that note young
Percival will gladly serve you in any fashion that you may choose,
rather than that so foolish a piece of wife's knavery should come
abroad?"

"Gee whizz!" exclaimed Mr. Early, gazing at the simple seeker after
truth, whose face shone with a radiant smile. "Gee whizz! Ram Juna, but
you are a business man! But she won't sign her husband's name."

Ram Juna's smile expanded cheerfully.

"Let that remain to me. You have but to play your part," he said.

Mr. Early thought hard for a moment.

"There is need to haste," said the Swami gently. "She is now in the
garden where access is easy. Make the note. I will take it to her to
sign. Hasten, my friend."

Mr. Early drew toward him pen and ink.

"It's a little flyer, and there may be something in it," he said. "I
don't see that I get into trouble any way. But see here, Swami, you
deserve something for your work. I'm not going to see you lose that five
thousand. When you bring me this I O U with Dick Percival's signature,
I'll give you my check for the amount. Understand?"

"Be that as you will," said the Hindu, and he caught the piece of paper
and fled toward the thicket where Lena still played with her toy.

"Have I not told you?" he began suavely. "The necklace, less fair than
its owner, is yours. But one moment. Will you first do me a favor?"

He lifted the great white turban from his hot forehead and set it on the
table before her.

"A simple bit of the skill of my country," he said. "Will you look
fixedly into the great ruby that remains mine? And, as you look, will
you yield your mind to me, and let me show you a vision? So--even deeper
let your eyes penetrate to the heart of the jewel. Deeper and yet
deeper."

He made a swift motion or two before her, and her eyes grew fixed.

"What do you see?"

"Myself," she answered.

"Naturally. What else could you ever see? But you are different. You are
a thousand times more beautiful. The world lies at your feet. It is a
world of adulation. Do you see this?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Now look away. We must not longer see the beautiful pi