his
ancestors five years ago. I could just say that he died--" black eyes
twinkled--"but customers like the more flowery mode of speech. They
think it's quaint."

"I think it's just nice, and not quaint at all," Edith Williams
declared. "We're sorry your father is dead. We'd hoped to see him
again. Twenty years ago when we were a very broke young couple on a
honeymoon he sold us a wonderful rose-crystal necklace for half
price."

"I'm sure he still made a profit." The black eyes twinkled again. "But
if you'd like a bell, here are small temple bells, camel bells, dinner
bells...."

But even as he spoke, Edith Williams' hand darted to something at the
back of the shelf.

"A bell carved out of crystal!" she exclaimed. "And rose-crystal at
that. What could be more perfect? A rose-crystal wedding present and a
rose-crystal anniversary present!"

The young man half stretched out his hand.

"I don't think you want that," he said. "It's broken."

"Broken?" Edith Williams rubbed off the dust and held the lovely
bell-shape of crystal, the size of a pear, to the light. "It looks
perfect to me."

"I mean it is not complete." Something of the American had vanished
from the young man. "It has no clapper. It will not ring."

"Why, that's right." Mark Williams took the bell. "The clapper's
missing."

"We can have another clapper made," his wife declared. "That is, if
the original can't be found?"

The young Chinese shook his head.

"The bell and the clapper were deliberately separated by my father
twenty years ago." He hesitated, then added: "My father was afraid of
this bell."

"Afraid of it?" Mark Williams raised his eyebrows.

The other hesitated again.

"It will probably sound like a story for tourists," he said. "But my
father believed it. This bell was supposedly stolen from the temple of
a sect of Buddhists somewhere in the mountains of China's interior.
Just as many Occidentals believe that the Christian Judgement Day will
be heralded by a blast on St. Peter's trumpet, so this small sect is
said to believe that when a bell like this one is rung, a bell carved
from a single piece of rose crystal, and consecrated by ceremonies
lasting ten years, any dead within sound of it will rise and live
again."

"Heavenly!" Edith Williams cried. "And no pun intended. Mark, think
what a help this bell will be in your practise when we make it ring
again!" To the Chinese she added, smiling: "I'm just teasing him. My
hu