violently. "I'm not such a stupid fool as I
seem----"

"Dear!" she protested excitedly, "you _have_ done what you promised. My
gems _are_ in my possession -- I believe----"

She caught up the emblazoned case, stripped out the first tray, then the
second, and flung them aside. Then, searching with the delicate tip of
her forefinger in the empty case, she suddenly pressed the bottom hard,
-- thumb, middle finger and little finger forming the three apexes of an
equilateral triangle.

There came a clear, tiny sound like the ringing of the alarm in a
repeating watch. Very gently the false bottom of the case detached
itself and came away in the palm of her hand.

And there, each embedded in its own shaped compartment of chamois, lay
the Esthonian jewels -- the true ones -- deep hidden, always doubly
guarded by two sets of perfect imitations lining the two visible trays
above.

And, in the centre, blazed the Erosite gem -- the magnificent Flaming
Jewel, a glory of living, blinding fire.

Nobody stirred or spoke. Darragh blinked at the crystalline blaze as
though stunned.

Then the young girl who had once been Her Serene Highness Theodorica,
Grand Duchess of Esthonia, looked up at her brand-new husband and
laughed.

"Did you really suppose it was these that brought me across the ocean?
Did you suppose it was a passion for these that filled my heart? Did
you think it was for these that I followed you?"

She laughed again, turned to Eve:

"_You_ understand. Tell him that if he had been in rags I would have
followed him like a gypsy. ... They say there is gypsy blood in us. ...
God knows. ... I think perhaps there is a little of it in all real
women----" Still laughing she placed her hand lightly upon her heart --
"In all women -- perhaps -- a Flaming Jewel imbedded here----"

Her eyes, tender and mocking, met his; she lifted the jewel-case, closed
it, and placed it in his hands.

"Now," she said, "you have everything in your possession; and we are
safe -- we are quite safe, now, my jewels and I."

Then she went to Eve and rested both hands on her shoulders.

"Shall we put on our snow-shoes and go -- home?"

Stormont flung open the bullet-splintered door. Outside in the snow he
dropped on both knees to buckle on Eve's snow-shoes.

Darragh was performing like office for his wife, and the State Trooper,
being unobserved, took Eve's slim hands and kissed them, looking up at
her where he was kneeling.