THE GREAT GREEN DIAMOND.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2675, 21 July 1913, Page 7

THE GREAT GREEN DIAMOND.

(By Emerson Hough.)

Two men were sitting on the imnvw I stone lauding gallery ot an hotel fronting on the Grand Uanal of Venice, it ivas dark, the inky waters of the canal UecktM.l here and there by passing points of light, Their own cigar tips made other points of light in tJi© gloom. A'ow and again came through the night the call of a gondolier. Sometimes little waves splashed up at the stono steps. Back or them in the hotel there wore few sounds, for the hour 1' was late. The two had sat thus for I more than half an hour without speech, i At length one of them, a tall young man, perhaps twenty-live years of age, good featured, well clad in the rather loose American fashion, siiilted in his chair and tossed away his cigar. “Great, isn’t it?” said he. His companion, rather older, a griz- : aled and sun-browned man, also an ! American, smoked on for a timo j in silence. “kino,” said ho , after a j while. “If we had this for a summer ! garden in America, eh, lad?” “But we couldn’t, Warrcnor. it takes timo to do these things. You can run whisky down a rope and call it aged, but you can’t do that with a palace or a cathedral —not even in America. We’ve never done iheso things.” j “Well, now, Landis, I don’t put tho Americans back of any people in tho world,” grumbled Warrcnor. “Give an American any sort of chance, and lie’ll come through it' anyone else can; j but, of course, you’ll have to give us timo. We’ll have works of art and antiquities of our own as early as any v.caer nation in the world —earlier, indeed. Look at that Mona Lisa theft not long ago —they say some American did that. Doesn’t it show our eagerness and aptness for art?” Landis smiled. “Vet it must have been easy enough, too,” he mused. “You walk through these galleries hour after hour, miles of Mona Lisas and Madonnas and Saint Sebastians, and all that, throngs of thousands of Americans in yellow shoes and shinwaists and straw hats—and there’s nobody watching tiiem but a guard or so half a mile away, who gets, maybe, , fifty cents a day—when he has luck with the Americans.” “The main thing is a piiiqiose —and courage,” said Warrener, nodding. j ■ “I’m glad 1 took the time to come; down here,” began Landis, after a time. “i’m back for Dresden this week —they’re going to pull off the lug j • American ball there before long. Been j in Dresden, of course?” “Oh, yes.” “I like it. When it comes to Dies- j den, you see art. They’ve the Sistino Madonna there, which everybody thinks ! is in the Vatican, and all sorts of great j paintings beside. 'lhey’vo the finest collections of old armor I’vo seen —and j when it comes to jewels! Warrener, j the crown jewels of Saxony arc the j finest in all tho world, although not! everybody knows that, either.” Warrener admitted he had not | studied Dresden closely, as he more; fancied the Mucnchenerbrau, as found on its native heath. “What, you never saw the Green 1 Diamond ol tho Saxon crown jewels? 1 Man, yoti’ro behind the game. Its; tho most wonderful stone in all the world. Cut double —pear shaped—larger pendant long as your little, , linger, and tho whole thing full of a j < frosty green light, that’s just glowing ; warm. It moves, it’s alive, 1 tell you! It’s an awful thing. Tho Cullinan diamond in the Tower of London is larger, but it hasn’t the soul —it looks like soap beside it. The other jewels in the G range wo 1 be, the treasure chamber in tho palace museum in Dresden, are wonderful in their way, too —the finest rubies in Europe, and diamonds and emeralds to make your hair curl tight , to your head. But there’s nothing like ; the great Green Diamond of Saxony. That’s the Mona Fisa ot gems, my friend. And there it is, with just a pane of glass between you and it, and no one to watch it any more than they do the paintings in the Piiti or the Louvre. i “Why don’ you buy it for your sweetheart, son —you’re able to, with vour income.” “I wish 1 might!” said Landis, rue- , fully. “It looks as though I’d net cl .something of the sort. Warrener, old , chap, tell mo—why can’t 1 bring her to the point —she doesn’t quite throw tne over, nor quite set the day.’' “Too bad—why?” “I don’t know. Lisa is just restless, like a lot of rich American girls. Trouble with them all, life has been too easy for thorn—everything coming in, nothing going out. She can’t think of anything sho wants that she doesn’t have, and 1 suppose she fears there mav lie some such thing; so that slncan’t settle down with mo.” “Hoity-toity! And what price the Green Diamond, my son?” “Price! Fifty millions, a hundred, perhaps—no price.” . “Too bad again. Just about right for her, eh? Why don’t you find tho man that did that Mona Lisa business and get him to help you put this across ? Come now, 1 like Lisa inmonselv, though she is an awlul hut. And I’d like to see you two settled. “Well, I’m awfully in love with her, said Landis frankly, and his face flushed a trifle, a thing not noticeable in the dusk. , T , , „ “Well, for myself, 1 m _ awfully bored,” said Warrener, yawning. H ~ ( i Hls to my that nothing happens these days, any more. If you’ve brains to start something interesting, I’m game enough to como in with you. I’ve noon bored still for a year. Last Africa wasn’t half the place 1 expected. and there’s no polo worth while on hand at Coronado now. Start some- ' thing, by all means.” ... , Landis laughed uneasily at his ngni words. ... “Only question is, said W arrenoi, yawning, “whether the Green Diamond would satisfy her so she’d settle down. Anything’s better than being bored—or being in love. Why c n’t you try out this thing and see if the great Green Diamond of Saxony will do Lisa any good? Ask her if she wants it. You know it does work sometimes to sort of call a woman’s bluff—sweeps her off her feet, do you know?” Landis turned and looked at bis friend steadily for a time. “It. might take two,” said he. “Two what?” „„ “Men. Will yon go to Dresden r j “Done!” said Warrener. His comnanion rose. j “You’re not going now? <‘Yos Don’t yon seo the moon com-; intr UP? I’ve promised Elisabeth Man-1 nine another gondola ride to-mght. Oh yes, Auntie along ; but she carries a silver ear trumpet and is an awfully good sort beside —Auntie. 6 “I’m off.” said Warrener, also rising “I’ll meet you in Dresden in a week. I’m dashed if I’ll bang around here and watch two idiots spoon—that bores me worse than anything. 11. The long night boat, black hyandent order, como down from a day u lien secrecv and love and crime, all three, went hand in hand, crept gently in to the landing stair, crept noiselessly out again, toward where the silver path of the vonng moon lay upon the water. Mrs ' Alden Manning, highly trained chaperon, sat in the bow, while on the

silken cushions aft sat her niece Elisabeth, spoiled and pampered—as are most rich nieces who also have astounding beauty as a heritage; with her the young man whom she came nearest to loving, a-nd whose life she had for two years made a continuous nightmare of suspense. Donsmore Landis sat now a trifle moody, his hands between his knees, Ins face steadily toward Elisabeth, white lingers now and then drew Even Elisabeth’s vivacity was quieted Even Elisabeth vivacity was quited by by the spell of the soft Venetian night. The glamor of romance, of love and daring drifted down like gossamer filaI ments from these old walls and' tell I upon her, binding her soul last to the ! days of adventure, of high-headed, holhcarted love. Romance dripped from the very air, languorously sweet, till the veins of the voting woman ran with it, and she sat," wistful and vaguely longing she knew not lor what, save that something was in life she had not 1 yet known—something which might 1 calm her mind and orient her soul, | something she lacked in all her abund- | anco, she knew not what. “Denny,” said she at last, as they erept on,' silently, now through dark narrow water lanes between frowning walls, now again into the illuminated | highways of the wider canals which ran ; between palace and palace, cathedral | and cathedral wall. “Denny!” “Yes. Lisa:” “It’s lovely! It’s awful, I’m not, myself. I'm someone else. I’m old. | It’s a thousand years old.” “You don’t look your age, to me, j Mona Lisa,” he smiled. “Hut you look ■ like one of the old paintings. I like j the hat, with its wide plume, my dear; , but please turn just a bit —I can’t see | all your face.” “It is not all yours ro see, perhaps.” : And she did not turn. Her mood set 1 her lover aflame. j “Lisa!”—and he caught her hand —j “How long is it going to bo? Why : torment me longer in this way? Come! ! I've loved you for years. W hat’s , wrong with me —with you —with ns?” j She turned now, her white, exejuisite j face shadowed hy the wide hat and its plume whose blackness blended with the masses of her hair, and bent on him a slow, searching, frowning gaze. “1 wonder what is wrong with ns: she asked. “Something was calling me just now—dike a voice, I don t know what. I feci that you ought to have on hue chainarmor, inlaid with gold, Denny—and a plumed hat. Aid you've on dinner clothes, and likely tiie mosquitoes hurt your ankles. They do mine. 1 don’t know whether its you who is inadequate, or just —life.’ He drew hack, hiu still held her hand. Auntie did not hear, or at least Hie white lace scarf did not tremble, and her silver oar trumpet lay on the cushion beside her, "Don’t, Denny! I won’t say you bore me. ! seem to hke you pretty well—maybe you’ve grown a sort of habit with me. Hut you luithcr me. And you have on—-clothes, i was expecting armor, 1 say, when 1 looked about. Why don’t you wear armor, Denny, and why don’t you do something? You only bother me.” She made a little mono at him.

"1 shall until you say yok, Lisa.” “Suppose J do not ? “You must!” “Must? Must?” “Yes, must.” She made tho guitar strings throb, just a low nolo or bo. A trace of the old impatient, wist) id yearning bung in her voice as she spoke. “Mon boro me. It seems to me that men are the most uninteresting things in all the world. 1 hey can t always have been so dull, can I hey f Did they always just dies* for dinner and play goh and polo, ami dai.ee? M hy, rightiiero they used to go out and moot in the dark, and light, and oh, almost anything but play golf and polo, and daiico. Hut now, nothing happens on account of men. I hey don’t get anywhere or tie anything, or dare anything. All they do is to pester a gnl to n airy them. And it a girl s bored before marriage, what’s she going to be after: Oh, la! I’lail-il?” “Men aio just as good to-day as they ever were,” asserted Denny stubbornly. “1 didn’t say ’ as good.’ Hut they used to !>o bad. ihe’ d take a chancd.” “Maybe they would to-day. \\ nat do you know about it?” ••’tu whist, perhaps, or stocks! Hut how about courage?” •Trie! Look at Del Wane nor—there never was a cooler or braver man woie armor in any century.” “But he's old.” • TTu not.” 'lliev sat silent for a rime, and she left her hand lying in his. He stroked the lingers tenderly. . ~ “I’d lake any risk for you, Lisa, lie said. “Try me.” “How can 1?” “Then don’t com plain of me.” She yawned alter a time. _ we’re nearly done with \ enico, ’ said she. “Lei’s go up to Munich, and try duukol bier and sausage instead ol gondolas and the moon. Maybe 1 m Hiolsh. But. Denny, dear, 1 did hear a voice. Do you know what it said?” •■No, unless that you are lovely as liny woman oi old \ enico, a thousand years of time.” “Denny, it said to mo —I thought that a girl to-day ns just the same as a girl a thousand years ago. Donsmore Landis, silent lor a moment, made rather an irrelevant i>n.ark when he spoke. “Wo go to Dresden, from Munich:” “Yes. Why?” impatiently. t “For tho annual hal masque <fl tne Americans, two weeks from now.” 1M forgotten it, hut yes, 1 11 go. There’ll bo Austrian ollieers and German officers and all sorts of olliceis. Phev’U make love to me. I bon, pet- i haps, the re’ll ho some nice man tram New York who’ll make love to me m my own language.” , "“Ri’dit • J will he that man. 1 presume, Lisa, that I'd have a better chance if J went over to the National Museum there and picked me out a nice suit of chain armor. Hut 1 J < I’d rattle when I danced. And 1 1,1 going to dance with you all tho time, for if I don’t, someone else will. I’m going disguised as a plain American gentleman, just evening clothes and a domino. Yon can’t fai to know me for I’ll bo the man you 11 be dai.cin & with all the time. And you J . “Fm oeino- to be disguised as a plain American girl. I’ll wear green light i green slippers and ma.sk and all. bo I you’ll' know mo. But what makes you 1 jump, Denny?” , . ~ | “I thought I heard a voice, Lisa, j “What voice?” . I “Tho same one you heard just now. Green, did yon say?” “Yes. I don’t know why. “You’ve been in the Grnngewolbe, the treasure chamber of tho Royal Museum ?” “Yes. yc» —why?” “The crown jewels of Saxony, the rtibnes and emeralds, and the ■ “Don’t Denny!” She turned quickly. “Why, what do you mean?” | “I was thinking of my costume, j and ” ; “I know whait you were thinking of! ; You were thinking of the great Green j Diamond, the mo.st wonderful gem in - i all the world’s great gems. And yon could think of no other color but pale. - shimmering green—green that moves and laughs. My God! Lisa., couldn’t - you dfleam of something else —couldn't

j that Voice of a thousand years ago—it ! must have been the voice of that stem. j itself —couldn’t it have asked something else for mo to do that was easier, that, was possible? Ah, you want to wear it in your hair, that night, to set me. mid women mad! And that's not a lithe stono itself wants to be worn —it wants you to wear it—it wants to dance with you, that night, to lie in yon'; hair. Lisa, that was tho Voice wc heard! And you say the bold men are dead, and that women are as they were I a thousand years ago!” “Denny, Denny boy, you don’t I know much about women!” [ “Does anybody?” “They don’t themselves. Listen! i can’t toil you the fascination that aufu stone had tor me. if a woman sees that, she cries in her heart for it. H I could hold it in my hands! And do you know, the poor thing asked me to —asked me to wear it! Honest, Denny, I’m crazy. i suppose that’s what is the matter with me. to-night-voices, and—things, you know?” “Do you want to own it?” “Oh, no, no! Nobody can own a thing like that, no man and no woman. It belongs to all the souls of women, beautiful women who knew the best of love, thousands of years. Nobody can own a picture, a statue, a gem — they belong to tho world, Denny! Hut iF my share meant just to hold tho Green Diamond in my hands, to my cheek, to kiss it and put it hack —for the next thousand years—oh, Denny, yon can’t know what 1 mean, and 1 surely am mad, stark, staring, utterly mad to-night!” She had turned to him now, some sort of barrier in part melting between them. “ Vos, but 1 do understand,” said he “Then yon know it isn’t covetousness at all — it isn’t vulgar wish for display—it isn’t anything you think it is!” “I’m pretty vague myself. Hut, you know, those old chaps in armor— they took their tests for the sake oi the test, you know, and if they won through, why, I suppose then they understood. Of course, I know you wouldn't set a price on me, or my love for you —yon wouldn’t set a tasu like that for me to do, for it wonldn t 1 he right. Hut —the risk for risk’s sake, and the test tor the test’s sake, yonder ago against this —if 1 won through, what would you give me—for the answer you then, maybe, would have for your restlessness ol soul? Lisa what would you give me if 1 con 1.1 answer that Voice we both have nean) to-night, and answer it ami make good a thousand years hack, a thonsan 1 years ahead? What would you give me. then?” “Myself,” said she simply. Ho caught her hand halt i udely “Lisa'.’’ he cried. Hut she drew it away and. turning, | smiled. “Tut, on your hat, Denny, dear, the muon’,s on your head. And we’ro both mad, quite utterly mad. 1 know it. because I almost love you, rtennv, j dear! Hut tho Green Diamond oh. j la.' la!” 111. “Well?” Donsmore Landis asked tho question j of his friend Wan-one!’ in the breakfast . room of the Ritz in Dresden as he put ; down his coffee cup and took out Ins , cigar-case, “I’ve seen it,” said Warrener simply. Landis leaned lorward, ' I ha\ 1 ; looked over the electric wiring,” he | wldsiieml, “the automatic alarm, you ; know. That’s the main protection hr these jewels—that is, when it Is work- ■ jug,” he added. “1 have been in the treasure chamber quite alone just | walked around ami handled things, and ; no one cared. 1 he\ re so used to see- , jug Americans about that they don i : suspect us at all. Now, these emu , jewels have been then' every night .or generations, and these Saxons aigm they always will he. 1 hey change • guards so often out in the equity a... , square —four little wooden soldiers Ink- ; iuo the place of four other wooden soldiers—and they have one old guard ; back in the hall and another out m t.r , old armor chamber. Why, it s an open invi’tat ion !” “H, will he done some time, sure, ! said Warrener slowly. “limy don t reckon on the strength of mental suggestion.” “No, nor on the strength oi a great ■ purpose, or a great desire. j “Right. 1 used to study that sort it i thing.Once or twice I have hypnotised fellows. Terhaps I could be ol use. Now, listen. You would Jo this for the sake of lovely woman, a M d T not for the sake of lovely woman, but still from strong desire. Mv : boy. 1 want a real adventure, risk dear j to the end. I’m bored. I’ve been | bored for a year. 1 tell yon, and her" j is nnillv (jnito n kottfi* of fish foi l ho. do say the palace dungeons are no- i usually good and deep. All the net to i . j then! ' What one risks for sport, an 1 ether risks for love. For me. I wouldn’t dawdle around after any gni . on earth, but here's what, one might -at ; a sport in g ad von 1 11 re.” “To-dav !” said Landis sharply . “Oh. all right.” said Warrener. co -I j ly lighting his cigar. j IV. Two hours later. Lambs and i Warrener met, as it by chance. | in one of nlie great rooms of • the National Museum, at one end, of which, quite open to the public. ; lies the G rungewolhe. the inner treas-' tire room whore in repose the groatcrown jewels of Saxony. The two men passed about, idly, separated for the most part, examining ibis or that piece ol quaint mediieval armor, passing to old hits of-ivory, ram enamels, this or that item ot a rustic interest of the thousands assembled mi i the great palace museum. At laststill a.s though by chance, they met again in the inner room wne.re are tho cases holding the great jewels. They paused, hesitant for a time, once more almost oppressed, almost stunned hy the wondrous quality of the peerless gems. Here were whole eases of rubies, stones half the size oi . man’s thumb, red as trembling blood drops—band fills of rubies thrown down careless!.v, sword hilts encrusted deeply with rubies and diamonds intermingled, rubies larger than any cairngorm, inexpressibly precious, riiim-s in necklaces and plaeques and tiaras and rings —rubies in one red glittering expanse of such warmth and color as none ha.s dreamed who has not seen this sight. And there wore, diamonds- minor led with these in the sword hills and made pieces; of the regalia, white stones, bine ones, beautiful, trembling with light. There wore emeralds of such size as tho average man has never dreamed, green as the grass in springtime, immortal, imperishable, changeless green. There were cases of those stones - fenced off bv upright frames, hack of which The gems lay upon their velvet beds on inclined- trays. W hat price <>f war, or monev, or labor, or suffering had been paid for these things, no man may measure. It is almost a place of terror, the Grnngewolbe. The two Americans looked here and there, eager, silent, impressed as a i are bv this display. For a time, is though to rest their senses, they strolled to a. little window overlookin': the courtyard. A sound of clumsy boot’s on the pavement attracted them a-nd a. jingle of arms. Guard mount, an exchange of four stolid infa.ntiymen, was going on. The new guard sainted with grotesque, ludicrous, stiff-legged

motions. Tho relieved guard, Hike to many wooden manikins, stamped also, pranced to the right about, and so passed off to barracks and beer; for now the noon hour was approaching. There was a little door at the farther end of the treasure room, hy which exit from the palace was made. Now and again they could hear tho heavy footfall of a guard walking up and down, more slowly as the time for barracks and beer approached for him also. Back in the entry of the room between them and the museum of medicoval armormight have been heard the exdtea voices of a group of American, tourists. The guide who had brought our Americans thus far turned back, expecting larger backsheesh from these other innocents. Our travellers were alino-t alone, quite so, so far as actual tenancy of the jewel room was concerned. They had nob as yet approached the case where lay the prize ot all this collection, the great Green Diamond of Saxony. Thev had reserved this to the last, perhaps 'fearful of approaching it: front face and boldly, without its proper reverence. Presently, little Ly little, their eyes turned toward this ease and their feet followed their eyes. They stood before the great gem \v lav (hero, shining and trembling, deep with hidden light, smiling at them, ■inviting them, mocking and daring them —n tremendous, an ominous thing, the Mona Lisa indeed of all Jewels, appeal- j ing, fascinating, terrifying. And always on me the impression that the great Green Din monel wished to speak. “Talc mo out, kiss mo, cherish me, take me in your arms, put me in her hair, ro fam lonely, and I am sick for love! j i>o might the stone have spoken andibly. , , | The two looked, at- eaeli other or a > time, until at length Warrener broke, the silence. “It’s tho ace!” said he. “Fy God!” said Landis. “To seize I that is not crime—nor lunacy.” They stood shoulder to shoulder for -■ | time, under the full spell of this tro- , mciidous creature. Ihen slowly the: eyes of both turned. The old gnat | was not there. He had followed ha ex 1 after another party of Americans. Lan- ! cl is strolled idlv toward the door, an! \ saw him just turning, twenty paces dis- ; taut, into the gallery leading to the I left toward the hall of armour. . . j Nothing was said. - • Vai-renei ; slot! an instant, silent, his lips Ugh’ ■ together. He saw Landis make one j swill step lo the hall where hung an j armorial shield, and with one wrench j tear down a long-hladed. keeu-pouitnd sword. And presently he saw his own ! sinewy hand reach out anil gr;tM> a short, steel-handed mace with round and pointed steel studs, in an instant each had Hie weapon which best tilled In’s hand. As Landis’ coat pocket brushed against the coiner of a cabined- :rame. something struck it heaviri —i might have been an American revolver D hut neither man showed Hie least perturbation, the slightest agdarion or concern. They were swift, racer, intent, hut altogether calm. A regiment, of men such as these could have gone anywhere, dared anything, conquered anything at any day of Urn world’s history. Theft surely was not in their '■• on Is. mi in had no _ place in their intent. Hut some spirit out ol the hold and adventurous past se< m- ;1 ro issue orders to them imperatively. They moved as in a dream. ft was Landis who opened the edge of the ease with tho point of the -word, quietly, deftly. The cut v>ane of - lass, silently removed from its frame, left him with the Green Diamond Iving within his grasp, flaming up at, him. mocking, smiling. - • The heavy feo,- of the guard in the Ini! came and passed hack, and once morn returned. Warrener quietly Topped out into tho hall and walked hack with tho guard toward the other end of 1 1 io corridor, passing into Jus hand a silver coin as he did so. The guard smiled and saluted, and wished that relief would come, lor ho was consumed with vas, Saxon thirst. It was about this time that the aged guard of tho treasure chamber, also consumed with a vast Saxon thirst, and delighted over the meaim which now lay in his pocket of quenching Hie same, vanned, passed a hand over herves, and turned to the inner chamber —which was the last in Hie round unAer his eai’i —-with tho hope ol ex trading a mark or so apiece iroiii each ol tlic Two Americans who had looked him to ho libera! patrons lot thiis-y natives. . . . , pm .niai’d stood lor some tune lookinn at The eases. . - - Nothing oi ; 1 1 j s kind had evrr happened helore. and la ime it could not happen now. So -siid the brain of Conrad, tho guard. Yd it had happened. Ariel’ long and thoughtful consideration of this tact. Conrad, tho old guard, gave a giuan and sank half lifeless upon tho floor, fumbling for the secret- electric alarm ha’ lories. . . .. 'l’'.,, i-xit door into tho hall or eon id.ir w.-k locked, ri seemed. No ;, ,v, ills.; what had happened. At tin. lma-1 of the stairway, where Landis pip! Wanvnci* liwl ul^l gtiaid. a, short steel mac' was found. A iong-hladed >word also was -eU standing m the et rm-r ol the tioasoio chamber. There were no o:her indications of force or violence aceonipus.iod oi' intomlrd. No olio hud bocii hint, i hero had been no outcry, no trouble ot any sort. But tho Green Diamond was gem’. * . , ' There came a distant clanging m 1, ( Us —not so many hells as should have clanged. From other parts ol the palace bet came hurrying. All the Poors cf Hus museum were locked. A tall captain of the guard passed rapidly down hall after hall, until at length !m found the guard who supported old niad. limp and white- “ What was it all about?” asked a lady of tho American party, who were thus iniprhoned in the hall ol aims. “Was Amro anv trouble?” The captain of the guard was very pale, hut perfectly polite. “Not in tho least, madam,” ho replied ’Oi course von know, wo are. obliged to Pave some sort of drill to insure the safety of these valuable collectionsWo leave everything open and free to he public, and we never seem to suspect tho pubic, because suspicion is tho one great temptation to the pnh--IP. None tho less, you can see, wo hava precautions.” The captain of tho guard was a handsome voting man and an able clfleer. Engaged to ho married, ho was waiting permission from his colonel. Hi, was very pale now-. Ho soon left the palace 'and was not seen again. Sinji;i! hii'l v enough nlso, t/1 1 0 til mom cnaTd and eld Conrad also disappeared although old Conrad had been an duty there for JO years. Tho guard in tho corridor disappeared. The officer of tho dav, and the last guard on dntv in the court, were not seen under arms that day, or any other day. The museum was closed at noon. And a vast, deep, smooth, impenetrable ' silence fell upon the Grnngewolbe.

V. The hal masque of the Americans of Dresden i-s betimes something of an affair in that ancient and deliberate city, attracting not only the locally resident and the transient Americans whlun the gates, but even the elite of the native population or others of Europe who are passing through. The reason i s not far to seek —the American women are the most beautiful women in thn world ; s o beautiful that the women of Dresden, of Berlin, of Vienna, of Budapest are piqued into coming also to match their charms with them. Burner is that Royalty, not more than half

incognito, has boon known to attend the American ball; and many a dashing officer had clone so with no care at al‘ for incognito, knowing it choice hunting ground alike for American beauty and American gold. The acceptances for this year’s Ik. J left the committee assured of an unusually brilliant success, ami preparations \vc£(' wade in accordance. The 1 great white ballroom of the Uita was uecorated to its limits with American Hags, American Beauty roses ami American beauties themselves when, toward midnight, the strains of the hi march of the evening, the Incest composition of a \ ion nose genius, rose a;. • loosed the zone of waiting joy. Many a maid was swept from her feet by th waves of the music, caught in toy strength of what almost might he ea ed the solemnity of pleasure; so i:: - pressive was all cliis upon minds in- v to the well-executed stateliness of the Old World’s stating of its pleasures, 10. . it.s dignity when tasting of delight-. j I And as raise followed valso. swifter hj •• i i fame the shifting web of silken color.-, j stronger the spoil of waving hand : I more intricate the maze of measure ■ 1 paces. The music and the warmth am. i the breath of tbe flowers and the pn ■ j once of beauty all merged into o: j j voluptuous influence without a nam | The air been mo vibrant, A man need I od no more than whisper, a woma" j i;red no more than look. \ ibrant aim j compelling, the music blended all. ’• : war, the Dance. , j There wa re many scoresoi dancer. : I.ho erront hall, inidor the vast cry>\“ j chandeliers, dancers who danced wet '■ ammig these many voting America,'girls', the most beautiful dancers of th j world. For the hiost part, these e: _ j changed partners. shared gossip ana giggles and compliments and candy j with no more than the ordinary hnma j ioalonsies and discontents. Hut a hour or so past midnight some sort/. i an event happened, something whir: seemed to go through the atmospiui j indefinably, so that all knew v; , something tl«at hind happened, o j weald or might. And even the dul ■ j est, seeing the eyes of all turned « , juucli one way. must have guessed the. j this -omething, whatever it was. i'.a j happened. or would, or miglit, hocaus | of this vei’.v handsome young American ; couple who had just come on the floor i ami who showed no intention ol dam | ing with anv other parmers, in spite e j ail who looked and longed. Th‘> inm-ks. of course, still were wort, j Kir the most pari, good sense alt | ifnod Dtsle had kept the dostumos 1 | ;he evening free fivm all groiesqti; j ness. It might have boon a hall o. an | otlier eontury, so strong was the pen I (■haul for the historic: and courtesy or j preference had held much to the com tunes ol old (lermaay or her sFte i states. But these two young fob j Baneed in modern costume, undisguts- , ed save for narrow _dominoes. It j young man was distinguished looking j in his simple evening do.lies, woit j without insignia or decoration oi aa\ i Mirt. None knew him and he seenuC to know none. His lace was pah'. IT seemed absorbed, intent. And none li’aned him for that, lor the tall gu with whom he darned robbed many an other girl ot her partner s ('yes. She was dressed all in green, pale shimmering, shilling green ol silk am. safin. so fashioned as to employ every line of her perfect figure to its best advantage. Her slippers were of green The sliken hand across her ('yes wat pale green. Her face was pale, intent absorbed, unsmiling as that ol her part- or. Her hair was dark. • • ■ And in lut hair, too nicissivo ioi hj !nn* v!;i vp mo extraordinary or any v> oman’s (imam nt. there blazed and tlickere 1 . nu ckinglv. alluringly, taninlisingly. holding fad the knot of her domino of silk, the one drug wbm.i. ,nis ing. tould Imvc left lack m her perfect ensemble —a something a nice caused men and women alike to gasp. ' 1 11 1 [■(' wen* Saxons present nuo, seeing this, went pah'. . . they could noi hdievo what they saw. It was impossible! What, then A Thcv danced, and one by one the other "couples withdrew —danced until they saw at last ! hoy were much observed and so themselves withdrew irem the floor. They sat apart, speaking to mum. yet hidden from none, ahorko 1 . iiiient, pale. And Royalty did not come. ‘ lie ball halted. uncertain. Some withdrew to if o loggias for cigarettes. "Royalty mav go hang," said one American franklv -'if that girl will only dance again.' Who is she Y And what is that -he wears in her hairy” Tim couples on the floor were so few for tlu' next valse that the_ leader of the uniformed orchestra of fifty pieces I? ft jus place. Ho bowed before die young couple, besought them. . . • i d hov rose sm.ling. A wave of hand- j dapping greeted them, and women I joined m it. For after all they were young, these two. and beautiful, anti | ors hevond doubt, moreover Amcri- j cans; and this was the American ball. 1 fliev bowed. The leader raised his I halm. held it. Couple alter couple ; filled the floor. And then the waves ol , the valso, yearning with the desire ot j the centuries, began slowly, throbbing- I ly. to pulse once more in the tense, sen- , sitivo atmosphere oi the place. i this time tiiey danced, faster, lastei, > faster. ... I t was a triumph. And i still timse who made it so remained in- j tent, absorbed, with eyes only tor each I other. , 1 Then, suddenly, with no word ot j warning, due to no traceable signal, the j pulse oT the waltz paused in mid-beat, j and the great orchestra broke wit hod - , cmstira into the strains of the Saxon | national am. The couples swept back from the floor. , '1 hero had entered, in cionmjo, and , in the full uniform of a Saxon colomd i of cavalry, two gentlemen, each at least of middle-age, one tall and erect, Ihuid, with bold sweeping moustaches, trusty , grav brows, and a straight blue eye, j a man who brought with him a certain j inescapable air ol dignity and com- . no.nd. He stood forth now in advance j of his companion, near the main dour i of the hall. This being left open, it j could he seen that a guard, of men, j armed, and in uniform, attended him, ; remaining concealed, in the outer nail, j from tlio view of all but those directly | in f j out of the arched entry. I* rom the hall without one might in turn have watched the dancers unobserved. A hush fell on the 'throng of dancers, of all nations, of all ranks, the tall gentleman raised his hand and removed his mask. A loud word or so came from the officer at his side. At once, as rapidly as the meaning be- ; cunio plain, all prfsont also unmaskod | —nil hut one, the dancer in green. A i silence came. The tall man looked at j her. An instant, and she slowly rose, j white but calm, and faced diem all, tall as a green lily, as beautiful as a flower, and removed her domino. “My Heavens! It’s Elisabeth Manning,"of New York,” one woman murmured. “1 might have known! I suppose she can pay the duty.” But now, calmly, with no haste and no perturbation, the dancer in green turned and took her escort’s arm. She swept a. deep and stately courtesy; and so, slowly, passed out into a. loggia by another entry, followed by the eyes of all. Blit they found egress barred at cue end of tlie loggia: and even as the silent officer who did so raised his sword horizontally across their path, they heard tlie sweep of the curtains drawn behind them, hoard the orchestra crash onco more into valse measure, heard 1 the frou-frou of it he dance —even as. | turning, they met the smiling face of the officer who hut now had stood near ! the tall man with the gray brows and bhio eyes.

; Ho bowed, and motioned them to ' scats. They three were alone. He was gentle, polite, but his keen eyes took : in every line of the young girl’s face i and ligure; it rested- —but only whoa ; her own gaze was bent down and did I not note it —tor just an instant on the I great Green Diamond of Saxony which I flamed in her hair. He sighed, gently, las tiiough relieved; and yet he was ! puzzled, coo. . . “His Majesty asks only your attendance,” said the officer at last. / ‘‘Perhaps a king may forgive even a v, omul to ins honor, to his country’s ! (iign ty. Ho asked if the liigh-born i'nwhin would attend him —now.” ‘ Denny!” cried the girl, clasping her hands. “What shall I’doP” Densmore Landis turned, tossed his domino into a tail, porcelain vase, felt j in ids pocket for his gold cigarette rase, and offered it to the officer. The la I or accepted a cigarette, bowed, and ui turn proffered a light from his own begemmed lighter. He raised an eyebrow as ho touched the tip of the flame ii) r: ; cigarette. “Lisa,” said Densmore Landis, “I lock my chance, and it’s lost, but I don’t rcgiat it. To me, it seems the only thing is to walk straight to the bar —and ior you to tell the truth. “The is my affianced-—now,” said he, in ruing to the officer. “I have loved !or fur yiars. She didn’t seem to think, yvu see, that men were men any more that they would dare “ ‘ Woman still are women.” The officer bowed. “To be affianced to so ; eaut itu 1 a woman is great reward.” “ 1 ’ l l l what is to ho done?” ■ .hie dance is to be done —I ..now no further. His Majesty asks one valse with your fiancee. He has seen no one dance as she does.” “Well.” said Landis, “I vowed —but I’ve lost alter all.” “Met in the least. Wait.” "ihr. my friend —oh, cho poor, brave chap! He said he did it because he was bored, but I believe ho did it for ns. for her ” “Your friend is in custody.” "And so are we—so am I?” "Not ytt. 1 will only return to you, a. ter < scorting tin. young lady to His Majesty, and we will smoke together for a few men.cuts, if you do not mind ! J ” "Anything! But —please believe me —: hj. lease have all belief —we are not thieves. It was not theft —why, we’re rich enough, almost, to buy ” "Kush! The heart of a country, the honor of a sovereign, cannot lie bought, sir.” "B :t yon must believe me —in the morning the great diamond would have boon back in its place. We did not want it—it was only something asked us, comp.Tled us —to have it for Lisa’s hair —to-night, once.” "I muff:stand. It was almost time.” .•aid i.:o officer, enigmatically. I'o bowed again, and offered his arm to Elisabeth. (hue more the splendid orchestra struck the. first bars of the Saxon’s national hymn, and swept at the next beat into the full pulse of the valse. . . . . Lisa made a deep courtesy, and then raised her dark eyes to meet the strong bine ones which gazed straight at her from beneath the gray brows. He smiled kindly, curiously. . . . The next instant she felt herself swept off into the dance on the arm of a, man who could dance. “We arc pleased, young friend ” said he. "We ihank you. 1 thank you. You dance beautifully. You are a woman to bring curses, \or to raise them, ft depends upon the manner of your love. (Speak, then, for I may dance v. ith yen, hut I may not speak with you a.lor the dance —ii you arc what I think and hope.” "She,” her voice trembled, “what

my punishment ? Ail my fortune tor —him —yes. gladly. But no more, for 10-night 1 gave myself to him. Ho is a bravo man, as bravo as any that ever wore armour. Forgive him, for I—l1 —I low him. 1 was not theft ho did. even for mo. It was only my fault, and I proved him, proved him foolishly. i wa i mad.” "Borhaps not, my child. It depends on what the stone has taught you. Two loves it has, my dear, and it proves both, the Breen Diamond of Saxony. . . Vos, a.s brave a man as ever wore armour. And you are as beautiful a woman as over wore gems —as beautiful oven as any that ever wore the (Irorii Diamond in her hair. Ah, child, many things you do not know! You ii ay have brought peace to Saxony, wild can tell? Do you love him for what he brings, or for what he is?” “Sire!”

"And does your love demand and receive, or does it offer and give, my child; Speak! The happiness of Saxony depends upon it, and the freedom of your lover.” "She! Sire! You know —you eaniiot doubt. I have learned my lesson, il was the diamond of Saxony taught me—l cannot tell how. But lam content. What 1 have, what I am, I give.” "To whom?” "To him, the man 1 love. He is as brave as ho is innocent of wrong.” The strong man felt her tremble in Ids arms. The music swept down, volpi: nine: into silence, as, swiftly, he led her from the floor to the loggia, where her lover still sat, near by die polite oflioer who bad been messenger of a king. "Oh, Sire! Sire!” sire breathed, as

,-lu'v paired. “Why did yon permit me? 1 am wearing it stij]!” She lifted quick, lovely arms to her hair, and in a moment hold out the Groat Green Diamond in the cup oi a trembling hand. The king smiled gently. “Ahrenberg.” He motioned the police officer, who slopped forward, drawing from his pocket a.plain, black jewel-case. Bowing low over the girl s hand as if he would salute it. he caught the stone which die relinquished, returned the case swiftly to his coat and then 101 l back to file exit; and as he did so the concealed band of men emerged into view and closed up behind him. Turnin'/ to Landis, the king said; "The lady was fit to wear our jewel, and she lias honored it and given it and. Saxony peace. She has learned its alternate hr son.” Ho paused a moment, and then: “Why should 1 not toll voup It has been worn by many wo-

| men. For it is more than a charm; it is the coticula of Saxony’s remain £ house. The tradition is that it tests and proves those who at rather long intervals are fortunate enough to wear 1 it. So long as a woman’s love is false ■or light, it is not content—it is full of i flame, of malice, and will not rest. | Hut, so die story goes, if onco more it I graces the hair of a woman who loves j not for gain—not for what she gets, 1 but for what she gives—then for a , who! generation the stone changes hue ! and rests. And then we know it will j remain s> for that generation; wo know j that the crown is safe for a lifetime, ! and that we shall have peace. \\e I join vour hands. You and your friend I are free. Unconsciously you have provI ed the old legend, of our house —no { more!” i He bowed and kissed the trembling I hand which he passed to the one which met it. , ~ . j But the tall girl turned, suddenly, in polsivrlv. both her hands held out. ! “Sire,” she said, “forgive! Ah, you have forgiven! I have learned, mncli i these last two days—yesterday, what a ! man could be. and now. to-night, I i know what it is to be a king.”