“You don’t mean I have a serious, incurable disease?” the woman gasped.
“You are indeed suffering from a most serious malady which may take your life,” affirmed Father Benedict. “Is it not true that bad fortune has pursued every owner of the star sapphire?”
Mrs. Hawthorne remained silent.
“Is it not so?” prodded the monk. “Think back over the history of the gem. Even your husband met with misfortune.”
“And now you believe my turn has come? Oh!”
“I dislike to distress you,” resumed Father Benedict with malice, “but perhaps by warning you I may yet save your life. Tonight in the crystal globe I saw your face. A message came that you must dispose of the star sapphire immediately or you too will die!”
“I—I always have hated and feared the gem,” Mrs. Hawthorne whispered, her lips trembling. “You are right. It has brought only misfortune upon our family.”
“Then your way is clear. You must dispose of the sapphire at once—tonight.”
“The gem is very valuable. You suggest that I give it to your society?”
“To our society,” corrected the monk. “Once you have contributed the gem, you will become our most honored member.”