fVfTcjcj^TTrjy BoTANicAi: Garden" 
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22 
which she could not account for had taken 
possession of her. She looked toward her 
sleeping brother. 
“ He will not waken,” said Devarges, 
following the direction of her eyes. “ The 
anodyne still holds its effect. Bring me 
what you took from the fire.” 
Grace brought the stone — a dull bluish- 
gray slag. The old man took it, examined 
it, and then said to Grace : 
“ Rub it briskly on your blanket.” 
Grace did so. After a few moments it 
began to exhibit a faint white luster on its 
polished surface. 
“It looks like silver,” said Grace, doubtfully. 
“ It is silver ! ” replied Devarges. 
Grace put it down quickly and moved 
slightly away. 
“Take it,” said the old man, — “it is 
yours. A year ago I found it in a ledge of 
the mountain range far west of this. I know 
where it lies in bulk — a fortune, Grace, do 
you hear ? — hidden in the bluish stone you 
put in the fire for me last night. I can tell 
you where and how to find it. I can give 
you the title to it — the right of discovery. 
Take it — it is yours.” 
“ No, no,” said the girl hurriedly, keep 
it yourself. You will live to enjoy it.” 
“ Never, Grace ! even were I to live I 
should not make use of it. I have in 
my life had more than my share of it, and it 
brought me no happiness. It has no value 
to me — the rankest weed that grows above 
it is worth more in my eyes. Take it. To 
the world it means everything, — wealth and 
position. Take it. It will make you as 
proud and independent as your lover — it 
will make you always gracious in his eyes ; — 
it will be a setting to your beauty, — it will 
be a pedestal to your virtue. Take it — it is 
yours.” 
“But you have relatives — friends,” said 
the girl, drawing away from the shining 
stone with a half superstitious awe. “ There 
are others whose claims — ” 
“ None greater than yours,” interrupted 
the old* man, with the nervous haste of fail- 
ing breath. “ Call it a reward if you choose. 
Look upon it as a bribe to keep your lover 
to the fulfillment of his promise to preserve 
my manuscripts and collection. Think, if 
you like, that it is an act of retribution — that 
once in my life I might have known a young 
girl whose future would have been blest by 
such a gift. Think — think — what you like — 
but take it ! ” 
His voice had sunk to a whisper. A gray- 
ish pallor had overspread his face and his 
breath came with difficulty. Grace would’ 
have called her brother, but with a motion 
of his hand Devarges restrained her. With 
a desperate effort he raised himself upon his- 
elbow, and drawing an envelope from his 
pocket, put it in her hand. 
“ It contains — map — description of mine 
and locality — ^yours — say you will take it — 
Grace, quick, say — ” 
His head had again sunk to the floor. 
She stooped to raise it. As she did so a 
slight shadow darkened the opening by the 
door. She raised her eyes quic&y and 
saw — the face of Dumphy ! 
She did not shrink this time ; but, with a 
sudden instinct, she turned to Devarges,, 
and said : 
“I will!” 
She raised her eyes again defiantly, but 
the face had disappeared. 
“Thank you,” said the old man. His 
lips moved again but without a sound. A 
strange film had begun to gather in his 
eyes. 
“ Dr. Devarges,” whispered Grace. 
He did not speak. “ He is dying,”' 
thought the young girl as a new and sud- 
den fear overcame her. She rose quickly 
and crossed hurriedly to her brother and 
shook him. A prolonged inspiration, like a 
moan, was the only response. For a mo- 
ment she glanced wildly around the room 
and then ran to the door. 
“ Philip ! ” 
There was no response. She climbed up 
through the tunnel-like opening. It was 
already quite dark and a few feet beyond 
the hut nothing was distinguishable. She 
cast a rapid backward glance, and then, with 
a sudden desperation, darted forward into- 
the darkness. At the same moment two* 
figures raised themselves from behind the 
shadow of the mound and slipped down the 
tunnel into the hut — Mrs. Brackett and Mr. 
Dumphy. 
They might have been the meanest pred- 
atory animals — so stealthy, so eager, so 
timorous, so crouching, and yet so agile were 
their motions. They ran, sometimes up- 
right and sometimes on all fours, hither and 
thither. They fell over each other in their 
eagerness, and struck and spat savagely at 
each other in the half darkness. They peer- 
ed into corners, they rooted in the dying 
embers and among the ashes, they groped 
among the skins and blankets, they smelt 
and sniffed at every article. They paused 
at last apparently unsuccessful, and glared 
at each other. 
M I S SOU R 
Botanica 
Garde 
cm 
2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 
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