To take the rings up to my aunt. If she likes them, or either of them,
she will send you down a check."

Mark reflected a moment. Remembering that the rings were not valuable,
he decided to show them.

"Here are the rings!" he said, producing them from his pocket.

The young man opened the small caskets, and his eyes lighted up with
satisfaction when he saw the glittering rings.

"What is the price?" he asked, looking up.

"That ring is three hundred and fifty dollars, the other is four
hundred."

"Seven hundred and fifty together."

"Yes."

"I will show them to my aunt. Perhaps she may decide to keep both."

"You won't be long?" asked Mark, as the young man left the room.

"No. I'll be back as soon as my aunt decides."

Left alone Mark began to think over the situation. His recognition of
his unprincipled acquaintance of the Fifth Avenue stage convinced him
that some fraudulent scheme was being carried out. Mrs. Montgomery was
probably a confederate of the young man who had just left the room.

"Is he going up-stairs or down?" thought Mark.

He listened, and thought he heard the front door open and shut. It
occurred to him to open the door of the chamber and look down-stairs.

He started to do this, but to his surprise found that the door was
fastened in some way. He had not heard a key turned in the lock.
Possibly there was an outside bolt.

"What object can they have in keeping me a prisoner?" he asked.

Should he ring the bell and summon a servant? If he did so, he would
have to leave the house in a state of uncertainty. No! he decided to
wait and let further events throw a light on the mystery.

Meanwhile the young man who had possessed himself of the rings left the
house, for it was he who had descended the stairs and gone out into the
street. He bent his steps to the nearest pawnshop on Eighth Avenue, and
taking out one of the boxes, said in a nonchalant voice:

"What will you loan me on this magnificent diamond ring?"

The pawnbroker took the box, and drawing out the ring held it up in the
best light. He examined it through a magnifying glass, and a gleam of
intelligence flashed in his face.

He returned to the counter, and scrutinizing the young man who had
presented it asked in a matter-of-fact tone, "What do you want to borrow
on the ring, my friend?"

"Two hundred dollars," answered the customer promptly.

"Humph!" said the pawnbroker with an amused smile, "two hundred dollars
is a