Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-09-03

self, with his one eya gloating over his hoard. "I'll. sell you, though 1t goes to my heart to part with lovely things. But must-I must-and then I'll go- not to America-oh, dear, no-but to the south seas. They won't find me there-no-no! I'll be rich and happy and free. Sylvia can marry and live happy. But the serpent" he said in harsh tone, "oh, the opal serpent! The pawnbroker's shop. Stowley-yes-1 know it. I know it. Stowley. They want 1t back; but they sha'n't. I'll buy 1t from Beecot by giving him Syl- via. It's lost-lost." He looked over his shoulder as he spoke in terrified whisper. Perhaps they have it, and then-then," he leaped up and flung the armful of baubles he held on to the deal table, land then-I must get away-away."
 He pulled out three or four coarse sacks of a small size and filled these with the jewelry. Then he tied a cord round the neck of each sack and sealed it. Afterward, with sigh, he closed the safe and turned down the gas. He did not leave by the trap, which led through the shop, but op- ened and locked the back door of the cellar, ascended the steps and went out into the street through the side passage. If they come," he thought as he walked into the gathering night, "they won't find these. No! 2o! and he hugged the bags closely.
 Sylvia upstairs waited anxiously for the return of her father from the hos pital, as she both wanted to hear how her lover was progressing and what he said about the permission to marry being given. But Aaron did not come to supper, as was his usual custom. Bart said, when inquiries were made, that the master had gone down into the cellar and was probably there. Meanwhile, according to his usual hab- it, he put up the shutters and departed. Sylvia and Deborah ate their frugal meal and retired to bed, the girl much disturbed at the absence of her father. Outside, in the street, the passersby diminished in number, and as the night grew darker and the lamps were lighted hardly a person renal ned in Gwynne street. It was not fashion able thoroughfare, and after nightfall l few people came that way. By II | o'clock there was not a soul about. Even the one policeman who usually perambulated the street was conspicu- ous by his absence.
 Sylvia in her bed had fallen into a troubled sleep and was dreaming of Paul, but not happily. She seemed to see him in trouble Then she awoke suddenly with all her senses alert and sat up. Faintly she heard a wild cry, and then came the twelve strokes of the church bells announcing midnight. Breathlessly she waited, but the cry was not repeated. In the darkness she sat up listening until the quarter chimed Then the measured footsteps of a policeman were heard passing down the street and dying away. Syl- via was terrified. Why she hardly knew; but she sprang from her bed and hurried into Deborah's room. Wake up," she said, "tl res something wrong"
 Deborah was awake in moment and lighted the lamp. On hearing Sylvia's story she went down the stairs fol lowed by the girl. The door at the bottom, strange to say was not locked. Deborah opened this and, peering into the shop, gave a cry of alarm and hor- TOT.
 Lying on the floor was Aaron, bound hand and foot.