"Wait," said Norman, throwing up his lean hand. "Let me tell you that I
have taken a fancy to you, and I have watched you all the many times you
have been here. Didn't you guess?"

"No," said Paul, wondering if he was about to speak of Sylvia, and
concluding that he guessed what was in the wind.

"Well then, I have," said the pawnbroker, "and I think it's a pity a
young man should pawn anything. Have you no money?" he asked.

Paul reddened. "Very little," he said.

"Little as it may be, live on that and don't pawn," said Aaron. "I speak
against my own interests, but I like you, and perhaps I can lend you a
few shillings."

"I take money from no one, thank you all the same," said Beecot,
throwing back his head, "but if you can lend me something on this
brooch," and he pulled out the case from his pocket. "A friend of mine
would have bought it, but as it belongs to my mother I prefer to pawn it
so that I may get it again when I am rich."

"Well, well," said Aaron, abruptly, and resuming his downcast looks, "I
shall do what I can. Let me see it."

He stretched out his hand and took the case. Slowly opening it under the
gas, he inspected its contents. Suddenly he gave a cry of alarm, and the
case fell to the floor. "The Opal Serpent!--The Opal Serpent!" he cried,
growing purple in the face, "keep off!--keep off!" He beat the air with
his lean hands. "Oh--the Opal!" and he fell face downward on the slimy
floor in a fit or a faint, but certainly unconscious.

CHAPTER III

DULCINEA OF GWYNNE STREET

Near the Temple Station of the Metropolitan Railway is a small garden
which contains a certain number of fairly-sized trees, a round
band-stand, and a few flower-beds intersected by asphalt paths. Here
those who are engaged in various offices round about come to enjoy _rus
in urbes_, to listen to the gay music, and, in many cases, to eat a
scanty mid-day meal. Old women come to sun themselves, loafers sit on
the seats to rest, workmen smoke and children play. On a bright day the
place is pretty, and those who frequent it feel as though they were
enjoying a country holiday though but a stone's throw from the Thames.
And lovers meet here also, so it was quite in keeping that Paul Beecot
should wait by the bronze statues of the Herculaneum wrestlers for the
coming of Sylvia.

On the previous day he had departed hastily, after committing the old
man to Deborah's care. At first he had lingered to see Aaron revive,