“You see,” he went on eagerly, “the man that owned it has the plague, and the governor’s awfully concerned about you. So if you’ll let me have it, we’ll just put it where it can do no harm.” He was flushed with self-satisfaction; already it seemed his task was satisfactorily performed. But her next words sent a flood of ice-water down his back. “I’m sorry,” she said; “but I haven’t got it.” “Haven’t? Oh, I say, Miss Yvonne! Oh, come now!” he almost wailed. “You must have it. I shall get into an awful row!” “I am sorry you will get into trouble,” she said quietly; “but I haven’t got it at the moment.” “But you must have it, Miss--Miss Yale. You must!” He was violent almost in his terror at facing his father empty-handed. “And I must insist upon your giving it to me.” A wrong--a fatally wrong--move on the part of Gregory de Costa. The girl stood up, stiff and uncompromising. “You insist?” she said scornfully. “You forget that the bracelet is mine, though I assure you I’ve no desire to keep it. In a short time I shall have it, and it will be sent to you. Good morning!” “If I’ve said anything offensive,” pleaded the young man humbly, yet in his humility mopping his brow with a handkerchief, the gaudiness of which was in itself an offence. “Good morning!” said Yvonne Yale, with a little inclination of dismissal. There was a knock at the door, and De Costa checked his flood of apology. “Captain Talham,” announced the servant, and Captain Talham followed her quickly into the room. The girl flashed a little smile of welcome, then turned to the young man. “Captain Talham will give you what you desire,” she said coldly; then, to the tall man: “Will you please give this gentleman the bracelet I gave you yesterday?” Talham looked from the girl to the youth, and from the youth to the girl. Then, with a sigh in which relief was evident, he drew from his right hand pocket something wrapped in tissue paper and placed it in the outstretched hand of the other. “Phew!” said Mr. Gregory de Costa, and unwrapped the jade bracelet set about with bands of gold. “Phew!” he said again, and his trembling fingers stowed the precious circlet in an inside pocket. Captain Talham scrutinised him gravely. “My friend,” he said, “on what small and seemingly trivial incident does life turn! A petulant word--the hint of offensiveness to this dear lady”--he waved his hand gracefully in the direction of the embarrassed Yvonne--“a sudden revulsion of feeling, which turns penitence to stern and unscrupulous purpose, hardens the shamed heart, and adds lustre to villainy.” “I beg your pardon?” asked young Mr. de Costa reasonably puzzled. Talham would have proceeded, but something in the girl’s eyes, some mute entreaty, averted him. He favoured the young man with a bow which effectively dismissed him and turned his attention to the girl. She waited until the door closed behind him. “You are always getting me out of scrapes, Captain Talham,” she smiled.