excited, the weird, pathetic gestures, made it a thousand times more effective than it could have been from any other lips: while the moonlight, melting and changing between the trees like great globules of quicksilver, finally flung down a flood of white glory, and turned the figure of the old man to a moving silhouette, outlined against the clear sky. And his audience sat as spellbound as did the wedding guests beneath the eye of the Ancient Mariner.

It was easy for him to tell his tale well. He had known the actors in the tragedy. They were the only links that bound him to his birthplace. His voice shook as he reated the closing scene of the sad historyhe stern will of the proud old Don, that would not bend or break, that set at defiance ove and law alike, that would not confess he remorse which silvered his hair and nade him hollow-eyed, and "like a sick nan," the stubborn will that resisted the enreaties of his wife to leave the place of such orrors, and return to Spain; though night fter night a white-robed figure glided to his edside, and the tender, beseeching voice of is murdered daughter pleaded for forgiveess. At last the time came when his rength failed him, and he was carried away. "In a great ship," said José tremulously, and we alone were left behind. I was a ɔy then, and my father had made himself ited, because he dared to speak of the poor ung señorita (heaven rest her soul!). We ere left behind, and the ship went down in storm, in sight of a Spanish port, pierced the rocks of the Spanish coast. My faer died but little while ago. And, I am ft. It is sad, señoras, you see; it is not a ory for merry people, but I have told you 1. I crave your pardon for making it so ng; an old man does not know when to st his tongue-and I crave your pity for e dead," and with a melancholy "buenos ches" he strode away. And the "merry ople" sat in the white moonlight, as mute though the goddess of silence had touched em, till long after the sound of his uncern footsteps had died away. This was not at they had bargained for. It was

altogether too real to be pleasant, and was such a curious climax to their reaching out after sensation, that each waited for another to break the silence.

Suddenly a little cry from Miss Oulton made the ladies scream and huddle together, and even the men sprang to their feet with rather ludicrous abruptness. The spell was broken, and there was instantly bustle and talk enough to more than atone for their long breathing space, while the author of the disturbance was forgotten in the exclamations and comments that followed.

Miss Oulton had been sitting in the shadow of the vines, the most eager listener of them all. At any other time she might have heard such a story unmoved, for she was neither credulous nor sentimental; but so many things had been crowded into the last few days, the routine of her life had been so strangely changed, that she was fairly out of tune. To add to her bewildered mood, Gur. ney had been sitting near her on the low railing of the veranda-so near that her dress almost brushed his feet; but it was Mrs. Lawlor over whom he bent now and then with some murmured word, or to adjust her shawl. At another time Helen might have been jealous or angry; now she saw this byplay with a kind of dumb apathy, as if she had all at once slipped off her own identity, and lost therewith the meaning of such idle words as love and friendship. Her face was turned away from the rest, and she could see what they could not-something moving outside the interlacing vines. Whether it was the moonbeams dancing in and out—a trick of her imagination—or a tangible object, she could not be certain, so she only watched and waited; but as old José said his "good night," she clearly discerned a slender figure, white-robed and tall, that crossed the porch at the further end and disappeared in the house, even while she gazed at it. She did not move, but the involuntary exclamation that startled the others showed how unreasonably nervous she had grown. She stood up trembling from head to foot.

"What is it?" asked Gurney sharply, touching her arm lightly as he stood beside

her. "You are not so foolish as to let this bit of by-gone tragedy frighten you," he said with rather a harsh laugh. "My faith! I had no idea it would be so successful. You saw something or somebody? I dare say it was Jessie stealing out to meet her lover. Mrs. Herling frowns down all such irregularities, but that sort of fidelity laughs at lock-smiths and house-keepers. Come, confess that you are convinced."

Helen only shook her head. She was certain that her vision bore no resemblance to the jaunty little parlor-maid; but it seemed too absurd a question for argument, so she quietly sat down again, and listened to the bewildering rattle of small talk that had found its way to the surface again.

"Well, all the parties in this affectionate vendetta seem to have been disposed of but the wicked knife that did the mischief. What became of it, I wonder?" said Jack carelessly.

It was essentially Jack's province to unearth the most unlikely topic for consideration; in fact, he rather prided himself on this ingenious characteristic, and offered it as a proof of his vast conversational resource. At the present moment he was rather dumbfounded when Dr. Weston said in his slow, tranquil way: "Possibly I can tell you that"; but he recovered himself immediately.

"I don't doubt it, sir; I feel that even I would be capable under my present inspiration of subpoenaing two or three spirits, but," in a milder voice-"they should be Roederer and Bourbon, and names of that ilk."

"Pshaw, Jack, don't be silly," and Tina turned on the doctor. "Dear Padre, please tell us," and the rest chorused an eager as

sent.

"This is not tragic, it is only curious," said the doctor hesitatingly. "When I first came to California circumstances led me into this part of the state, and for a time I was practicing physician in the neighboring town. It was almost purely a Spanish town then, and I came, through the exigencies of my profession, to know the priests of the Mission well, and had more than once been able to

serve them. tics can be

I was a heretic, but even he made useful sometimes. O day I was called to see an old half-bre Indian who had been a convert, but who religion had spun itself out to the frail of ties.

"I want to confess,' he whispered: sent for the priest, but he not come; y will do as well.' I urged him to wait, no: 'Doctor and priest all the same,' and leered at me with his horrible old skin lips, his sunken eyes. Then he took fr among the pile of rags on which he lay tiny dagger, set with blazing stones, gorged enough for à queen's toy. Its blade rusted, its gold tarnished. over curiously,

As I turned

"I stole it from the Mission,' he mu bled, 'but it has always burned my han I was going to give it back to the priests, you may have it now,' and the next mome he sank back, dead.

"When the holy Father came five minu later, I gave him the dagger and repeat Manuel's words; and then and there I f heard the story of the Romierez family José told it to-night.

"Do you keep this cursed thing, doct said Padre Sebastian when he had finish his tale. 'It was too unholy to lay on altar of the virgin; but you have a bold hea and he laughed a little, ‘and you won't afraid of it because of its wicked histo The Mission owes you ten-fold more th that, but keep it as a curiosity if you w you are fond of such things.'

"And, protest as I would, he refused take it from me. When Gurney bought Casa here, with its ghost's walk and name handed over the dagger as one of his rig ful possessions. And now let's see it, it's worth seeing. You have it somewhe about, haven't you?”

Before Gurney had time to answer, He caught his arm.

"Say yes," she whispered; "I will get: It is in my room"; and she slipped away unobserved by the others.

But before she reached the stair-case, GL ney was at her side.

"Pray, don't take so much trouble for such a trifle," he said carelessly. "I'll make it all right with these insatiable sensationseekers"; and then, all at once, he stopped, seeing how pale and distressed she looked, and drew her gently toward him.

"I wish that confounded story had never been resurrected. It was all my fault but—' "But you could not suppose anybody would be so weak-minded as to be seriously affected by it," she interrupted. "Well, I would not at any other time, but just now it seems to me horribly real and near." She raised her eyes, almost over-brimmed with glittering tears. "Don't be angry with me, Steven, for that-or-or anything else," she whispered suddenly, and turned to him with i swift, involuntary caress.

It was the first time she had ever yielded even so much token of her love, and it swept way the last remnant of distrust from their ath. His voice trembled a little, as holding er close, he murmured :

"My darling! Please God, nothing shall ver come between us-nothing "—with sunIry attestations that would not have been ntelligible to a third person.

But Helen was already repentant of her rief submission, and insisted on going on er self-imposed errand.

"Then I will wait for you here," he delared very authoritatively, and she ran light'up the stairs, throwing him a saucy kiss om the landing.

She went up to her room with her foolish emors all dispelled, sighing a little sigh of ontent for her own happiness. "How good e is," she thought, with a humility at which rs. Rivers would have opened her eyes credulously.

The upper hall was not lighted, but the oon, shining through the wide open win>ws, made it easy to find her way. Once her room, she lit a candle, and turned to en the silver box that stood on a table bele her bed. But the box was already open, d a glance within showed that the dagger is gone.

All her newly acquired courage left her in instant. Surely, this was something more

than mere coincidence. She made haste to search every corner of the room, although she felt that her search would be of no avail, and at last came back to the filagree casket, whose emptiness seemed to mock her dumb dismay, holding the light above it in the helpless fashion of one who has exhausted his resources, and is at a loss what to do next. The light fell on some gleaming object in one corner of the box, and Helen picked it up mechanically- a heavy diamond ring, the stones curiously set in old fashioned style in the shape of a star, and the hoop of gold worn down to a slender thread. The blood surged up into her face, and she looked behind her, half expecting to see the owner of this strange hostage for the missing dagger-the author of this most uncanny jest. But not even a puff of wind came in to stir the flame of her candle. She could hear the sound of laughing voices below; she could see the gleam of the white roses in the still whiter light outside. All her childish fear came back to her. Without hesitating a moment she left the room, slipping the ring on her finger for safe keeping. Gurney could help her unravel this mystery. She longed for his presence to dispel the dread creeping over her.

Out in the broad hall, where the moonlight made a path of light, she walked a dozen steps-not more—with nervous haste, and then stood fixed to the floor as if she had been turned to stone. For out of the shadow there came suddenly toward her a white-clad figure-the figure of a woman, with ghastly, pallid face and dark, pleading eyes. Her jet-black hair hung round her like a cloak; from one hand swung a rosary of silver beads, the other held the lost dagger, whose jewels danced and gleamed as the moonlight struck on them: and from the slender white throat a thin, slow line of blood trickled down over the white dress and stained the restless hands.

It might not have been half a minute that Helen stood paralyzed, noting with horrible distinctness every crease in the blood-stained dress, every movement of the slippered feet; but to her it seemed an eternity till, with one

mighty effort, she sprang past the terrible thing that barred her way, and reached the stairs. She heard a low, gurgling moan behind her and a heavy fall, but these things only added wings to her feet. She had found her voice once more, and one wild shriek after another rang through the house as she blindly stumbled down the stairs. Almost before she reached the last step Gurney was with her; she felt the clasp of his arms about her; she heard his passionate exclamation, his caressing entreaties to tell him what had happened: then the clamor of voices, and she opened her eyes to see the crowd of eager, curious faces. Even the servants were there. She tried again and again to speak, faltered out some incoherent words, and with a shudder hid her face on Gurney's breast.

"For heaven's sake, Helen, try to control yourself," exclaimed Mrs. Rivers irritably. "Don't frighten us all to death."

The sound of her cousin's voice brought her back to the realities sooner than anything else would have done, and by a strong effort of will she managed to tell something of the cause

of her terror-enough to send the curios and excitement up to fever height. She Į out her hand in a dumb appeal against t questions that assailed her, caught sight the ring on her finger, and began to trem again.

"Oh, Steven," she whispered fearful "did she put it there?"

He caught the ring and hand in a ru clasp.

"Where did you get that?" he ask hoarsely, turning as white as Helen hersel She looked at him almost vacantly. T blood seemed to beat in her ears, the fl to sway under her. As through a mist saw Mrs. Herling's tall, gaunt shape plungi headlong from some height, and heard an "Ach Gott! come, come, she dies-M Alice!"

She felt Gurney's arms relax their ho and the group of familiar faces fadedblotted out; the voices died away to a m mur-to silence. She felt herself drift down, down, and then came a blank, as s slid in a helpless, senseless heap to t floor.