The Baron leant forward to touch it, but Mr. Scarlett, with a sudden look of horror, shot out his right hand and clutched the Baron’s hand so violently that he cried out. "Don’t touch it, sir! For God’s sake, don’t touch it. There’s poison enough in that thing to kill a dozen men!" he gasped fiercely. "What is it—what do you mean? Tell us!" we cried. Some passengers coming along the deck, he instantly covered it with his sleeve. "I generally wear a bandage over it," he said nervously. "The night was so hot that I took it off." "Well, tell us about it," we urged him. "Where did you get it?" "Jassim gave it to me," Mr. Scarlett answered, his black eyes burning strangely as he looked round to see that no one could overhear him. "I’ll tell you when and how that snake came here. It’s a long story—and a sad one. When you have heard it you will know why I do not want to go back to the Persian Gulf. But, for God’s sake, sirs, don’t ever mention it to a soul!" We promised—we would have promised anything to learn its story. *CHAPTER II* *The Story of the "Twin Death"* "It was nearly thirty years ago when I first saw that bracelet," Mr. Scarlett began in a strained voice. "I was only a boy then. It was brought to my father’s house, at Bushire, by a Banyan jeweller—a friend of his—who showed it to him as one of the most marvellous and curious pieces of workmanship in the East. I remember how frightened I was to hear the stories he told of it, and to see them examining it. "When the jeweller had gone, my father, who knew its history, told me that, when it was pulled off the arm which wore it, it would writhe and strike with the poisoned fangs in its head, and kill both the wearer and the person who tore it off. "There is an Arab song, nearly two hundred years old, which sings of it. The song is about the woman who first wore it. She was the favourite wife of a murdered Sultan of Khamia, and fell alive into the hands of his Persian conqueror. He wanted to marry her because she was so beautiful, and she dared him, if he would win her, to tear the bracelet off her arm—dared him in front of his Court—and he was so mad with love that he did so, although he knew what would happen. The snake struck them both, and they died. In that Arab song she is supposed to sing several verses after the fangs struck her, but," Mr. Scarlett’s voice trembled hoarsely, "I know that she had not time." "You don’t mean to tell us that this is the same one?" the Baron asked breathlessly. "It is, sir. I wish it wasn’t." "But how did you get it?" he asked again. "Let the gunner spin his yarn," I told him impatiently.