“God bless your heart for that,” cried Frederic, as he took the little packet from her hands and began breaking the seals. “Yesterday morning, when old Otto’s plans were ready, I foresaw the danger of the trip ahead of me. I realized I might never come back alive. If they discovered who I was a second too soon it would mean my death. I dared not, for my country’s sake, tell even you what I was doing. My honor was at stake. I dared not drop the slightest hint nor write a single line. The only thing I’d kept about me in the apartment that wasn’t filthy German stuff was what’s in here.” Slowly he was unwrapping something rolled in tissue paper, as Jane, eager-eyed, looked wonderingly on. “But,” he went on, “I couldn’t go away from you without leaving some token, some clue. If it happened that I never came back, I wanted you to know—” He stopped abruptly. “To know what?” questioned the girl breathlessly. “To know that I loved you, darling, better than all else save honor,” he said, taking her into his arms. “See the token I left behind for you. It’s an old, old family ring with the Seymour crest. You’ll wear it, girl of mine, won’t you, wear it always.” Unhesitatingly Jane Strong thrust forth the third finger on her left hand, and instinctively her lips turned upward toward his. And no matter what might have happened just then in the apartment next door, neither of them would have known anything about it. THE END