nt _is_ the shortest on record. I've the wedding
ring, too. But it isn't the time for that. A good-sized diamond's the
obvious sort of thing: advertises itself for what it is, and that's
what we want. You'll wear it, as much as to say, 'I was engaged like
everybody else.' But if there wasn't a reason against it, _this_ is what
I should like to put on your finger."

As he spoke, he hid the spark of light in his other hand, and from the
pocket whence it had come produced another ring.

If she had not seen this, Annesley would have exclaimed against the word
"obvious" for the splendid brilliant as big as a small pea which Knight
put aside so carelessly. But the contrast between the modern ring with
its "solitaire" diamond and the wonderful rival he gave it silenced her.
She was no judge of jewellery, and had never possessed any worth having;
but she knew that this second ring was a rare as well as a beautiful
antique. It looked worthy, she thought, of a real princess.

Even the gold was different from other gold, the little that was visible,
for the square-cut stone, of pale, scintillating blue, was surrounded by
a frame of tiny brilliants encrusting the rim as far as could be seen on
the back of the hand when the ring was worn.

"A sapphire!" Annesley exclaimed. "My favourite stone. Yet I never saw a
sapphire like it before. It's wonderful--brighter than a diamond."

"It is a diamond," said Knight. "A blue diamond, and considered
remarkable. It's what your friend Ruthven Smith would call a 'museum
piece,' if you showed it to him. But you mustn't. He'd move heaven and
earth to get it! Nobody must see it but you and me. It wouldn't be safe.
It's too valuable. And if you were known to have it, you'd be in danger
from all the jewel thieves in Europe and America. You wouldn't like
that."

"No, it would be horrible!" Annesley shuddered. "But what a pity it must
be hidden. Is it yours?"

"It's yours at present," said Knight, "if you'll keep it to yourself, and
look at it only when you and I are alone together. I can't give it to
you, precisely, to have and to hold (as I shall give you myself in a
few hours), because this ring is more a trust than a possession.
Something may happen which will force me to ask you for it. But again, it
may _not_. And, anyhow, I want you to have the ring until that time
comes. I've bought a thin gold chain, and you can hang it round your
neck, unless--I almost think you're inclined to refuse?