had visited, and strange things he had seen. Rachel listened
entranced, as if she were hearkening to a fairy tale. Yes, he
was just as she had dreamed him. She had always been sure he
could tell beautiful stories.

"Come up to the house and I'll show you some pretty things," he
said finally.

Then followed a wonderful hour. The little low-ceilinged room,
with its square window, into which he took her, was filled with
the flotsam and jetsam of his roving life--things beautiful and
odd and strange beyond all telling. The things that pleased
Rachel most were two huge shells on the chimney piece--pale
pink shells with big crimson and purple spots.

"Oh, I didn't know there could be such pretty things in the
world," she exclaimed.

"If you would like," began the big man; then he paused for a
moment. "I'll show you something prettier still."

Rachel felt vaguely that he meant to say something else when he
began; but she forgot to wonder what it was when she saw what he
brought out of a little corner cupboard. It was a teapot of some
fine, glistening purple ware, coiled over by golden dragons with
gilded claws and scales. The lid looked like a beautiful golden
flower and the handle was a coil of a dragon's tail. Rachel sat
and looked at it rapt-eyed.

"That's the only thing of any value I have in the world--now," he