"A very unique ring, Miss Farnham. Will you permit me to examine it closer?" He took the white hand in his own and lifted it nearer to the light. His fingers felt as cold as the skeleton ones, from which she had drawn the uncanny ring in the miser's gold-vault, and they were trembling strangely. Every one was watching him curiously, the pale, repressed excitement of his countenance was so fascinating. "Good heavens! it is the ring! Miss Farnham, how came you by it?" he cried out in such a startled, eager voice that she quivered with deadly fear, recalling in dismay the old miser's malicious words: "People will recognize the ring--they will ask you questions that you will not dare to answer." "The ring--I--oh--you must have made a mistake," she faltered, almost imploringly. "Impossible! I know the jewel perfectly. I will prove it to you. Inside the serpent-ring there is carved a name--'Pepita'--is it not true? You know it. Come, Miss Farnham, you have solved the mystery of that woman's fate, or you would not wear her ring. The truth, the truth, for God's sake!" CHAPTER XII. ALL FOR A WOMAN'S SAKE. Donald Kayne's usual calm demeanor had given place to the wildest agitation. His dark-gray eyes were black with excitement, his brow was corrugated with wrinkles, his chin quivered nervously, and his glance seemed to pierce Nita through and through, it was so keen and fierce. His outburst had been so sudden that at first no one moved or spoke, only gazed in speechless astonishment at the strange scene enacting before their eyes. With a pale face, full of dread and dismay, Nita stared up into the man's half-stern, half-entreating countenance, but her beautiful lips were dumb. "Speak," Donald Kayne cried out to her, hoarsely. "Speak!" The dry, parched lips of the girl unclosed, and she gasped: "Oh, forgive me, sir; I cannot, dare not, answer you!" "Cannot--dare not! By Heaven, you shall! Tell me, how came you by that ring, girl?" He gripped her delicate wrist with unconscious violence, and she shrank and moaned. Instantly the spell of wonder that had held Dorian Mountcastle relaxed, and the young man, springing up, caught Donald Kayne's arm in a grasp of steel. "Release Miss Farnham's wrist this moment. Beg her pardon for this outrage, or you shall answer to me for this violence to my promised wife!" The deep, angry words thrilled through every one like an electric shock. A startled murmur came from every lip, and Donald Kayne's grasp fell inertly from Nita's wrist. That instant Dorian bent and whispered hoarsely in her ear: "Do not deny it. Let me claim you, if only for a little while, that I may protect you. You have not a friend in the room but myself." She knew that it was true. In her forlorn state it was sweet to have this true heart for her shield. She bowed in silent acquiescence, and he turned proudly to his friend.