"At last Dugald and I parted company. I was to go on a trading journey into the interior of Borneo, which, as you know, is a very large island in the East Indies. Dugald set out upon a wild expedition into Burma. We had heard a story of a rare and valuable jewel said to be in a remote and little-known part of the interior. I had tried to dissuade him from so dangerous and uncertain an attempt, but he was brave and even reckless. Besides, my own adventure was dangerous also. "Before we parted, Dugald gave me a little charm which he always wore and in which he had great faith. It was supposed to bring luck and to shield from danger. Perhaps it did, for I was very lucky thereafter and had many wonderful escapes from death. It was not so with Dugald. I never saw him again, and I wish now that he had kept the charm. Perhaps it would have protected him." Grandfather paused and glanced at the bronze figure of Buddha beyond the circle of the lamplight. "This image was his last gift to me, brought by his trusted servant with the message that in it lay fortune and that I should always keep it by me--and I have always done so." "Did he find the valuable jewel?" Hortense asked breathlessly. "That I never knew," said Grandfather. "The servant told me a wild story of his master's finding it, but when my friend died suddenly, the servant could find no trace of it. I think he was honest, too. "But the jewel isn't the point of my story--rather, the charm." Grandfather opened a drawer of his desk and drew forth a tiny box of sweet smelling wood--sandalwood, Grandfather called it. He bade Hortense lift the cover. Inside the box lay a tiny ivory monkey attached to a tarnished silver chain. "It can be worn around the neck," said Grandfather, drawing it forth. Placing the chain about Hortense's neck, he fastened the ends in a secure little clasp. "Now you'll have good luck and nothing can harm you," he said smiling at her. "Is it mine?" Hortense asked. "You may wear it while you are here," said Grandfather, "and sometime it will be yours for keeps." "And I won't be afraid of noises or anything," said Hortense. "Not a thing can hurt you," said Grandfather. "But you must take good care not to lose it. You had better wear it under your dress, perhaps, and never take it off. Now, it is long past bedtime." Hortense thanked her Grandfather and went into the next room to bid her Grandmother good night. Lowboy, fat and smiling, grinned at her. The cat on the hearthrug turned his head and regarded her with a long stare from his yellow eyes. Hortense felt uncomfortable but stared back, and at last the cat turned away and pretended to wash himself. Now and then he stole a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. "He doesn't like me any more than I like him," thought Hortense as she kissed her Grandmother good night. "Your candle is on the table in the hall, dear," said Grandmother. "Would you like Mary to put you to bed?"