said the Sepoy abruptly, as he moved his chair with a sharp
rasp over the bare floor and transferred his glance at the same time
from the drawn countenance of his rapt auditor to the gleaming gem on
the table, "and now--is it not a beauty?"

"Ah, ha!" murmured Raikes, disturbed by the abrupt cessation of the
sedative tones of the Sepoy and the abrasion of the chair, "superb!" And
that instant all his keen animation returned.

Apparently Raikes was not aware of any blanks in his scrutiny and
resumed his regard of the tantalizing facets with knowing sagacity and
an envy that affected him like a hurt.

"In all my years," he creaked, as his long, prehensile fingers riveted
like a setting to the fascinating bauble, "I have never seen such a gem.

"The cutting is exquisite; it is a study in intelligent execution; every
facet here cost a pang; how vital it was not to waste an atom of this
precious bulk.

"What a delicate adjustment of the lines of beauty to the material
consideration; the balance is perfect." And with this confusion of frank
cupidity and rapacious regard, the miser, with a supreme effort, pushed
the stone impatiently toward the Sepoy.

"Ah!" exclaimed the latter, "it is a pleasure to show the gem to one who
is able to comprehend it.

"It is even finer than you have discerned. The lapidary was subtle; his
work sustains closer analysis. Have you a stray glass?

"No? Well, I will send you mine and you can entertain yourself until I
see you again."

"What!" exclaimed Raikes, "you will leave this stone with me?"

"Why not?" returned the Sepoy evenly. "You have a due regard for
property. I do not fear that this gem will meet with mishap in your
possession. Besides, it will be a revelation to you under the glass,"
and, arising, he stepped to the door, leaving the brilliant upon the
table in the grasp of the astonished Raikes, who was unable to
comprehend such confidence and unconcern.

Traversing the hallway, the pair reached the door which opened upon the
apartments controlled by the widow.

As he paused on the threshold to make his adieux to Raikes, the Sepoy,
looking at the former with a marvelously glowing glance, repeated, with
an emphasis so eerie as to occasion a thrill of vague uneasiness in his
companion, the concluding phrase of the singular tale he had related to
Raikes:

"_To-day as the sun declines._"

And the moment after he disappeared, leaving the startled miser to gaze,
with greedy