knowledge respecting it. The family offered large rewards for its
recovery, and the detectives of all the large cities of Europe have been
for some time on the alert to discover it, but in vain. As soon as I heard
this story, I thought that I could make a tolerably shrewd guess as to the
whereabouts of the missing jewel; and I caused investigations to be set on
foot in New York by a trusty agent, which resulted in the discovery that
The Rose of the Morning had been sold some six months before to a jeweler
in Maiden lane for about one-twenty-fifth of its value, the peculiar tint
of the stone, and the purchaser's ignorance of the estimation in which it
is held by the gem-fanciers of Europe, having militated against the
magnitude of the valuation set upon it. It was secured for me at a
comparatively trifling price. The person who sold it to the jeweler some
six months ago, in spite of a partial disguise and an assumed name, was
easy to recognize, from the description given, as that lady of many names,
Mrs. John Archer's governess. Now, Rose Coral, what say you? You may be
Mrs. Clement Rutherford, my brother's lawful wife, but you are not the
less a thief and a criminal, for whom the laws have terrible punishment
and bitter degradation."

"This is but a poor invention: where are your proofs?" she cried, looking
up as she spoke, but her faltering voice and quivering lips contradicted
her words.

"Here is my chief witness." He drew off his left-hand glove as he spoke,
and extended his hand toward her. On the third finger blazed the beautiful
gem of which he had spoken, its great size and purity fully displayed in
the pale afternoon sunlight that flashed back in rosy radiance from its
bright-tinted depths.

"It is almost too large to wear as a ring," he said with great coolness,