"Volinè's talisman! How camest thou by that? Know'st thou the charm of that ring? Dost thou know that he whose finger carries it is safe from every harm that men of Gathma can work? It is a passport from Death itself; for it is the sacred ring of Echri, the most powerful of our priests, before whom the King himself must bow!" "Good Kaosp, I came by it honestly. This ring was given to me by Volinè herself, and by her its wondrous power was told to me. But these, my companions, ridicule its potency, and refuse to believe in its talismanic properties." "They know not what they say. I have heard and seen too much of its virtues to scoff at its power. But guard it jealously, for I would warn thee against its loss. No man of Gathma will dare to take it from thee; for if thou hast received it as a gift, that man is cursed who would seek to rob thee of it by force, or yet by stealth." "Not very likely, Kaosp, for I will part with it only with my life," Graham answered, as the good-natured soldier passed out. "Well, Doctor, what do you say now?" asked Graham. "That it's all humbug; and, from the bottom of my heart, I wish Volinè and her ring had been far away before we had the misfortune to visit Edos." The arrival of our mid-day meal interrupted further conversation; nor did either of us allude to the subject again. Day after day passed by, Kaosp coming in as usual; but he was reticent, his visits were shorter, and in spite of all that Graham could do, we saw that he evaded his questions. Another thing that perplexed us exceedingly was the absence of Volinè. From the day that Graham met her in the garden she had never been to see us herself, nor had she sent any of her attendants with presents. What had befallen her we knew not. All was mystery. Kaosp would not speak on the subject. This had a most depressing effect upon Graham; he rarely ate, and still more rarely slept. We could see that his heart was heavy at her absence, and his failing to obtain any news whatever of his loved one made him morose, dispirited, and silent. "For the love of Heaven," he said to Kaosp on the day before our trial, "will you not tell me news of her? You must know what has taken place. Has any harm befallen her?" "I am commanded by the King to silence," he answered, not without sorrow in his voice. "He hath bidden me hold no further conversation with you, his prisoners. You will know all on the morrow." The eventful morning dawned at last that was to decide our fate; to set us free, or mete to us our doom. "Thank Heaven!" said Graham, earnestly, "all will soon be decided. This silence, this suspense, is slowly killing me."