Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
Yet
Jephson's--that's the firm--do not claim to equal our business. They deal
mostly in pearls."
"Pearls, eh?" said Arthur, musingly. "Then it was your firm that lost the
valuable collection of pearls you mentioned to Mr. Merrick?"
"No. They were the property of Countess Ahmberg, of Vienna. But we had
sold many of the finest specimens to the countess and have records of
their weight, size, shape and color. The one you are now wearing, sir,"
pointing to Uncle John's scarf pin, "is one of the best black pearls ever
discovered. It was found at Tremloe in 1883 and was originally purchased
by our firm. In 1887 I took it to Tiffany, who sold it to Prince Godesky,
of Warsaw. I carried it to him, with other valuable purchases, and after
his death it was again resold to our firm. It was in October, 1904, that
I again became the bearer of the pearl, delivering it safely to Countess
Ahmberg at her villa. It was stolen from her, together with 188 other
rare pearls, valued at a half million dollars, a little over a year ago."
"This pearl, sir," said Uncle John stiffly, "is not the one you refer
to. It was found on the shores of the island of Sangoa, and you have
never seen it before."
Le Drieux smiled sweetly as he brushed the ashes from his cigar.
"I am seldom mistaken in a pearl, especially one that I have handled,"
said he. "Moreover, a good pearl becomes historic, and it is my business
to know the history of each and every one in existence."
"Even those owned by Jephson's?" asked Arthur.
"Yes; unless they were acquired lately. I have spoken in this manner in
order that you may understand the statements I am about to make, and I
beg you to listen carefully: Three daring pearl robberies have taken
place within the past two years. The first was a collection scarcely
inferior to that of the Countess Ahmberg. A bank messenger was carrying
it through the streets of London one evening, to be delivered to Lady
Grandison, when he was stabbed to the heart and the gems stolen.
Singularly enough, Jack Andrews was passing by and found the dying
messenger.
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The Flaming Horse: The Story of a Country Where the Sun Never Shines
Category: Czechoslovak folktale
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The Three Citrons: The Story of a Prince Who Climbed the Glass Hill
Category: Czechoslovak folktale
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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