THE BRASS BOWL
"Oh!" said a small voice at his side. And again and again: "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
Maitland himself was moved by the wonder of it. The jewels seemed to fill the room with a flashing, amazing, coruscant glamour, rainbow-like. His breath came hot and fast as he gazed upon the trove; a queen's ransom, a fortune incalculable even to its owner. As for the girl, he thought that the wonder of it must have struck her dumb. Not a sound came from the spot where she stood.
Then, abruptly, the sun went out: at least, such was the effect; the light of the hand-lamp vanished utterly, leaving a party-colored blur swimming against the impenetrable blackness, before his eyes.
His lips opened; but a small hand fell firmly upon his own, and a tiny, tremulous whisper shrilled in his ear.
"Hush—ah, hush!"
"What?"
"Steady … some one coming … the jewels. …"
He heard the dull musical clash of them as her
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