The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. “It makes one feel quite awkward to mention such a thing, but after all I think that it is best for both parties. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground.
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