"Well, then good bye to liberty!" and he turned a tiny gold key that I had not noticed in the clasp, and took it out. I must confess to a feeling not unlike bondage when the lock was snapped and the key withdrawn; and involuntarily exclaimed: "But what if I want to take it off?" "You must not want to, the thing is irrevocable," he said coolly, fastening the key upon his watch-chain, "help me with this. I have but one hand, you know." "I don't altogether like the idea," I said obeying him nevertheless, and arranging the little key on his chain. "You should have thought of that before," he said with a laugh. "It is too late to retract. You may well look serious," he continued noticing my expression. "You forgot, when you made it, what a solemn thing a promise was; but now you'll have something to remind you of its weight, and of the impossibility of getting rid of it. There's no danger now that you'll forget you promised to be my friend; you are bound, irrevocably, solemnly, forever!" "I thought you weren't to tease," I exclaimed shaking my arm. "It's a very pretty thing, but I shall hate it if I feel that I must wear it always, and that I can't take it off when I want to." "That's exactly what I meant to guard against. If you could take it off whenever you were tired of it, you would of course soon throw it aside, and there would be an end of compact, friendship and all. I hope you know me better than to suppose I would be satisfied with such an arrangement! _Now_, no matter how many little obstacles in the way of oceans, mountains, and other imbecile contrivances of Nature for the separation of friends, intervene, I shall feel as if I had a check upon your conduct, a guardian of my place in your affections that will make me quite easy about it. For you know of course, the legends that are related of such gifts. I hope you are not superstitious, but you remember the power attributed to them; how such a pledge will surely take the giver's part, and grow tighter and tighter till the pain is unendurable should the wearer, in her inmost heart, harbor a thought of treachery or faithlessness." "I suppose, sir, having my arm amputated in case I changed my mind, would free me from the obligation of wearing it, would it not?" Mr. Rutledge shook his head gravely. "I am not of the opinion that it would; but I hope we shall not have to proceed to any such extreme measures." "Oh, it's my left arm, I shouldn't mind very much. You manage so well with one, that I should feel encouraged by your example, if my handcuff should grow too unbearable."