"I beg you to select one of these. You need not use it. You may give it to your valet if you wish, or throw it out of the window. Only accept it as a souvenir of our meeting. That, Mr. Merriwether, would be favor number two."
He pointed toward the pearls. Tom picked one--pear-shaped, white, beautiful--and put it in his waistcoat pocket. The man swept the rest into one of the drawers of the long library table.
"I thank you very much," said Tom. He was not sure the pearls were not genuine.
"No; please don't," said the man. There was a pause. Presently he asked, "Do you know anything about pearls, sir?"
"I am no expert," answered Tom. "Characteristic. You Merriwethers are brave enough to be truthful, and wise enough to be cautious. Have you any opinions?"
"They are more than that. They represent, Mr. Merriwether, the hope of the Kingdom of Heaven. The pearl is the symbol of purity, humility, and innocence. Do you know the legend of the mild maid of God--Saint Margaret of Antioch?"
"Margaret is from Margarites--Greek for pearl. And the reason why faith--But I beg your pardon. Men who live alone talk too much when they are no longer alone. I beg you to forgive me. Tell me, Mr. Merriwether, did you ever hear of Apollonius of Tyana?"
He felt almost tempted to ask whether the poor man was dead, but refrained because he was honest enough to admit to himself that the question would savor of bravado. Tom was consumed by curiosity as to what would be the end of it all. To think of it--on Fifth Avenue, New York, in broad daylight--all this!
How money was to be made out of him he could not yet see.
"I will show his talisman to you--the Dispeller of Darkness!" The man clapped his hands twice. At the summons a negro walked in. He was dressed in plain black and wore a fez. The man spoke some guttural words and the negro salaamed and left the room. Presently he returned with a silver tray on which were seven gold or gilt candlesticks and candles, and seven gold or gilt small trays or plates, on each of which was a pastil.
He arranged the seven candlesticks in some deliberate design, carefully measuring the distance of each from the other, and of all from a point in the center. He arranged the plates and pastils about the candlesticks. Then he left the room, to return with a lighted taper, with which he lit the seven candles and the seven pastils. Tiny spirals of fragrant smoke rose languidly in the still air.