o bicycle, himself, through the Vale of St. John,
because the weather was so fine. He intended to catch a night train on
the main line."

"Just as I supposed! Idle scapegrace!--with nothing in the world to do
but to get himself and other people into trouble!"

"You saw the card that I left for you on the hall table? But there is
something else that we found upon him in undressing him which I should
greatly prefer, if I might, to hand over to your care. You, I have no
doubt, understand such things. They seem to be valuable, and neither
the nurses nor I at all wish to have charge of them. There is a
ring"--Undershaw searched his pockets--"and this case."

He held out two small objects. Melrose--still breathing quick with
anger--took them unwillingly. With the instinctive gesture of the
collector, however, he put up his eyeglass to look at the ring. Undershaw
saw him start.

"Good heavens!"

The voice was that of another man. He looked frowning at Undershaw.

"Where did you get this?"

"He wore it on his left hand. It is sharp as you see, and rather large,
and the nurse was afraid, while he is still restless and sometimes
delirious, he might do himself some hurt with it."

Melrose opened the case--a small flat case of worn green leather some six
inches long; and looked at its contents in a speechless amazement. The
ring was a Greek gem of the best period--an Artemis with the towered
crown, cut in amethyst. The case contained six pieces,--two cameos, and
four engraved gems--amethyst, cornelian, sardonyx, and rock crystal;
which Melrose recognized at once as among the most precious things of
this kind in the world! He turned abruptly, walked to his writing-table,
took out the gems, weighed them in his hand, examined them with a
magnifying glass, or held them to the light, muttering to himself, and
apparently no longer conscious of the presence of Undershaw.
Recollections ran about his brain: "Mackworth showed me that Medusa
himself last year in London. He bought that Mars at the Castellani sale.
And that's the Muse which that stupid brute Vincent had my commission
for, and let slip through his fingers at the Arconati sale!"

Undershaw observed him, with an amusement carefully concealed. He had
suspected from the beginning that in these possessions of the poor
stricken youth means might be found for taming the formidable master of
the Tower. For himself he scorned "la curiosite," and its devotees, as
mere triflers