It was indeed Sarah! The sound of her latch-key in the basement door was unmistakable. What could have induced her to return when she had been away scarcely more than an hour, they could not imagine, unless it was her anxiety on Margaret's account. At any rate, there she was, and a panic of consternation seized them all. Even the wonderful signet was forgotten in the stress of the moment. Strangely enough, it was Margaret who first regained her poise and grasped the situation.

"Quick!" she whispered. "Corinne and Jess, get those things back in the trunk—any old way! Bess, you go out and call down to ask her what's the matter. Maybe she isn't coming up just yet!"

They got to work in frantic haste, and Bess229 went out in the hall to make her inquiries of Sarah.

"What's the trouble, Sarah? You're back very early!" they heard her ask. And an answering voice from the basement stairs responded:

"Sure 'tis rare unhealthy weather fur this time of year! 'Twas so war-rm I nearly roasted in me heavy coat—and we not out of winter yet! I come back fur me lighter cape. 'Tis hangin' in the attic!"

"We're lost!" muttered Mr. Cameron as Bess rushed in, despair written all over her face. "Can't any one think of something to keep her downstairs for five minutes?"

And this time it was Alexander who came to the rescue.

"Just watch your Uncle Dudley!" he whispered, as he ambled with apparent unconcern out of the room. "If you hear me call her down, give that trunk the boost to the attic as soon as you can, and put the key back in her shoe."

They heard him leisurely descending the230 stairs, and Sarah's massive tread approaching nearer and nearer. At one point there came sounds as of a slight scuffle, and muttered remarks of "Spalpeen!" and "I'll fix you yet, young man!" Then Alexander passed on, whistling derisively, and Sarah's heavy feet began the ascent of the second-story flight. Up and up she came, and still nothing happened. Hope died out in the listening group, for they were sure now that, whatever Alexander might do, it would be too late to avert the catastrophe. Sarah had, indeed, just planted a broad foot on the top step when they heard Alexander's shrill voice calling from the basement:

"Oh, Sarah! Sarah! Come quick! There's something afire in the kitchen!"

"Saints save us!" They heard her exclaim, and she turned to descend with a speed of which they had never dreamed her capable.

"Do you think it's anything serious?" whispered Jess to Mr. Cameron. "Oughtn't we go down, too?"

"No indeed!" he laughed. "I guess we can231 trust Alexander. Fortunately, the trunk is very light, so you girls can get it upstairs while I listen in the hall to see if they need help below."

In five minutes the three girls had the trunk safely back in its place, and the key restored, and were back in Margaret's room, panting from exertion and breathless excitement. But it was at least a quarter of an hour before Alexander came up again, chuckling and smoke-blackened.

"Well, this is one time when we put it all over the lallypaloozer!" he exclaimed jubilantly. "I got that pail of glue I keep in the yard to paste kites with, and put it on the gas-stove as if I was going to heat it. Then I accidentally-on-purpose dropped a lighted match into that big tin thing where Sarah keeps the waste paper and scraps. It made a big blaze, but I knew it couldn't hurt anything, 'cause it's tin all around it. But I raised a hullabaloo like you'd thought the Woolworth Building was going up in blue smoke! It fetched her down, all right, and I232 figure it'll keep her there a good spell! The gas-stove's all smoky, and she's cleaning it up and growling like a bear, so I beat it up here!"

Then at last, with their minds relieved, did they have their first opportunity to consider their wonderful "find," and they all crowded around Margaret, in whose little white palm it lay. The gold setting at the back was tarnished quite black, but the jewel itself was apparently unchanged. They gave an involuntary gasp as they examined it, for it was even more beautiful than they had imagined. The flat sapphire itself was as large as a big Lima bean, flawless, and curiously engraved with the old-English letter "T," and a crest above it, looking like two eagles holding a sword. The surrounding diamonds were tiny, but finely cut and still brilliant.

"Isn't it almost unbelievable," half whispered Margaret, at last, "to think that right here in my hand I hold the very jewel that cost poor Alison so much pain and trouble! And, oh! to think, besides, that it never got back to233 Bermuda, after all, and probably she didn't either. It makes me, feel just—sad—somehow!"

"But what are we going to do with it?" demanded Corinne.

Mr. Cameron had been examining the jewel with all the ardor of a genuine lover of antiques. He now spoke very quietly:

"There's only one thing to do, and it's a solemn duty imposed on us by the writer of that poor little journal you found. We must make every effort to discover whether the Trenhams in Bermuda have any descendants or relatives existing to-day. No matter how distant they may be, the signet must be returned to them, for it was Alison's wish. If we should find none, that is another matter. I believe the jewel would then be rightly counted the property of—the Bronsons of Charlton Street!"

The Bronson contingent there present gasped in chorus!

"But how shall we go about hunting up the descendants of the Trenhams?" questioned234 Corinne. "That'll be a big piece of work, won't it?"

"It probably will, and perhaps a very complicated one, besides," agreed Mr. Cameron. "We had better start our investigations with the Bermuda records, and I'll write down there to the authorities asking how I can get hold of data about the family history. The matter must be dealt with very carefully, because it is really no light affair. I am convinced, even in this hasty examination, that the signet is very rare and of very considerable value, not only because of the stone itself, but of its antiquity. It must not be lightly given away. Its ownership must be proved beyond a doubt. I expect to be extremely busy for the next three or four weeks, and may have little time to give to this matter. But after that, when business slackens, I can give this the attention it deserves. Meantime, I think perhaps it had better be kept in my safe-deposit box at the bank, where it will be absolutely safe. We won't trust this, at least, to Sarah's tender mercies!"

235

Suddenly Corinne cried out in perplexity: "But this makes our mystery deeper than ever! Do you realize it, folks? What became of poor little Alison, after all? And why were her trunk and her jewel and half her journal found floating about in a wrecked vessel?"

"I tell you, she had to 'walk the plank'!" reiterated Alexander. "I said so before, and now I believe it! It'd make a gorgeous old pirate yarn!"

"She didn't! She didn't!" wailed Margaret. "I won't believe such a thing!"

"Never mind what happened—just yet!" interrupted Mr. Cameron, soothingly. "The Antiquarian Club's going to find out the truth some time—I'm convinced of that!"

It was two weeks later, about the middle of March, when Corinne came in to see Margaret one afternoon with considerable suppressed excitement in her manner. Margaret was still confined to her bed, and, though scarcely so listless as she had seemed at first, she was undoubtedly weaker. Corinne's visits were236 now her mainstay of pleasure and interest, and she welcomed the girl with a glad little cry.

"I've got news for you, Honey!" said Corinne, laying her usual offering of flowers and fresh fruit on the bed.

"What?" cried Margaret, eagerly.

"Well, you mustn't be surprised, but Father hasn't been a bit well again, lately. The weather's awfully hard on him, and his business has rushed him, too, and he's all run down. So in a couple of weeks he's going to take a vacation and go down to Bermuda again. It did him a lot of good last time. He'll stay at least a month, and longer if he feels like it."

............