"Mister!" he said again.
In spite of himself the boy raised his eyes. Do what he might, he could not keep the sorrow out of them, and those of the finder of the pearl met his fairly.
The room was full of people but it grew still as death.
The woman clasped her husband's arm and gave a low moan. He touched her shoulder gently.
"Mister," he said again, with a humbleness that seemed strangely gentle after all his bluster and brag, "will you look at this and tell me what you think it's worth?"
"I'm not an expert," the boy said hastily. "I couldn't judge its value. You ought to take it to some one that knows all about these things."
"I can see what you think," the farmer said with a pitiful, sad smile; "you think it isn't worth much. Is it worth anything at all?"
Colin took the discolored pearl and looked at it closely. He put it on the scales and weighed it carefully, measured it, and scrutinized it as closely as he could in the lamplight, but he knew himself that these were devices to gain time. The pearl showed all too clearly a flaw that would make it valueless. Every one waited for his verdict. He was conscious that his voice was a little shaky, but he answered as steadily as he could:
"I'm afraid, sir——"