“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed the other, now greatly interested. “How did you get it open? What’s in it? Where is it?”
“I don’t know how I got it open, and I don’t know what is in it because it was too dark to see; but here it is.”
With this Breeze withdrew the locket from the bosom of his flannel shirt, into which he had instinctively thrust it for safe-keeping when he found himself dropping off to sleep, and they both bent over it eagerly.
One half had swung back from the other on a pivot, by which the two sections were still held together. After a single glance at it, Wolfe gave a shout.
“A compass, by all that’s wonderful!” he cried. “The very thing we’ve been wanting, above all others! Well, old man, any one who says we are not in luck now doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that’s all!”
One side did indeed hold a small but perfect compass, the daintiest that was ever seen. Its freely moving card was a thin plate of gold upon which were enamelled the four cardinal points and a coat of arms. The latter consisted of a blue shield with a diamond, cut in the form of a star, upon which the card was pivoted, in its centre. On the shield, above the star, and in the lower corners were three devices, which Breeze thought might be pyramids, and which Wolfe called volcanoes. Above the shield was a closed helmet, and beneath it, in letters of gold, the motto, “Point True.”
As Wolfe repeated this over to himself, his face wore a puzzled look. “‘Point True,’” he said aloud; “I have certainly heard that before, and I wonder where?” Finally he satisfied himself that he must have read it in some book, and gave the matter no further thought.
In the other half of the ball was a second golden plate on which was enamelled the same coat of arms, with the only difference that the central star in this case was formed of a pearl. A spring, which they did not discover for some time, slipped this plate aside, and in the cavity beneath it the boys saw three tiny locks of hair, of which one had evidently been cut from the head of an infant. On the under side of the plate was engraved “Merab to Tristram,” and Ruth’s answer to Naomi, “Whither thou goest, I will go.”
Breeze could not help feeling somewhat disappointed when he found that this was all. Although the ball had yielded up its secret, it had in reality told him nothing. It had merely given a new direction to his curiosity. Who were Merab and Tristram? To whom had the locks of hair belonged? The only satisfactory features of its revelation were the coat of arms and the compass. The former might at some future time be located, while the latter could be immediately used.
This thought had also come to Wolfe, who had rejoiced at the very first sight of the little vibrating card, and who now said,