When finally he turned and confronted her she could see his face only indistinctly, as the drawing of the blind had left the room almost in darkness. His voice was strained and tense as he replied huskily: "I have not got the diamonds!" Helen almost started from her seat. "You have not got them!" she exclaimed. "Where are they, Ken?" "They are lost!" "Lost?" she echoed, stupefied. "Yes--lost." "Oh, how terrible!" she faltered. This, then, was the secret of his strange manner, his depression and nervousness. He had lost the diamonds. He had returned home to announce to the eagerly awaiting stockholders that over a million dollars' worth of property had suddenly been swept away. His feeling of personal responsibility must have been awful. No wonder he was not himself. It was enough to unnerve any man. Of course he was not to blame, but the world is so merciless. He would have to bear the censure, even when he was perfectly innocent. How she regretted that he had ever undertaken so heavy a responsibility. Timidly, not wishing to embarrass or annoy him, she said: "How did it happen, dear?" For a moment he made no answer, but just sat and stared at her. What little light entered between the shade and the window frame fell full on her face, lighting up the fine profile, the delicately chiseled mouth, throwing off golden glints from her artistically arranged hair. From her face his eyes wandered greedily down to her snow-white neck, her slender, graceful figure, her beautifully molded arms. Certainly, he mused to himself, his brother was an epicure in love. This woman was dainty enough to tempt a saint. "How did it happen?" she asked again. "It was in the first rush from the burning ship," he said hoarsely. "I was asleep when the fire broke out. It happened at two o'clock in the morning. The diamonds were in the belt which each night I unfastened and put under my pillow. It was more comfortable to do that than to wear it. When the first alarm came I forgot everything--except my own safety. I rushed pell-mell on deck. It was a nasty night. We didn't know where we were, or how grave the situation was. Outside the wind was howling furiously, the siren was blowing dismally, the panic-stricken passengers and sailors were fighting like wildcats. I lost my head along with the rest. I had reached the lifeboat when suddenly I remembered the belt. I felt at my waist. It was not there. I remembered I had left it under the pillow. I was horror-stricken. Great beads of perspiration broke from every pore. The people were fighting to get into the boat; I fought to get out and back to my stateroom. Suddenly someone knocked me on the head. I lost consciousness. When I came to we were miles away from the wreck, drifting on the ocean in an open boat, and the _Abyssinia_ was nowhere to be seen." Helen made an exclamation of sympathy.