"Princess, you cannot know what a weight of anxiety your generous gift
has lifted off our minds. Roddy will not tell you, but it is right that
you should know. The fact is that at this moment we are all three
almost penniless--without the means of escape from Paris. The money we
shall get for those diamonds will enable us to get away from here in
safety."
She turned and peered into his face, lit by the uncertain light of the
street lamps. In his countenance she saw a deep, earnest look.
"Then the truth is that without money to provide means of escape you
have even sacrificed your chances of liberty, in order to return my
jewels to me!" she exclaimed, for the first time realising the true
position.
He made no response; his silence was an affirmative. Kinder, who had
spoken no word, sat looking at her, entirely absorbed by her grace and
beauty.
"Well," she exclaimed at last, "I wonder if you would all three do me
another small favour?"
"We shall be only too delighted," was Bourne's quick reply. "Only
please understand, your Highness, that we accept these earrings out of
pure necessity. If we were not so sorely in need of money, we should
most certainly refuse."
"Do not let us mention them again," she said quickly. "Listen. The
fact is this. I have very little ready money, and do not wish at this
moment to reveal my whereabouts by applying to my lawyers in Vienna or
in Treysa. Therefore it will be best to sell some of my jewellery--say
one thousand pounds' worth. Could you arrange this for me?"
"Certainly," Roddy replied, "with the greatest pleasure. For that
single row diamond necklet we could get from a thousand to twelve
hundred pounds--if that amount is sufficient."
She reopened the bag, and after searching in the fickle light shed by
the street lamps she at length pulled out the necklet in question--one
of the least valuable of the heap of jewels that had been restored to
her in so curious and romantic a manner.
The old jewel thief took it, weighed it in his hand, and examined it
critically under the feeble light. He had already valued it on the day
when he had secured it. It was worth in the market about four thousand
pounds, but in the secret channel where he would sell it he would not
obtain more than twelve hundred for it, as, whatever he said, the
purchaser would still believe it to be stolen property, and would
therefore have the stones recut and reset.
"You might try Pere Perrin," Guy remarked. "It would be quicker to take
it to him than to send it to Amsterdam or Leyden."
"Or why not old Lestocard, in Brussels? He always gives decent prices,
and is as safe as anybody," suggested Kinder.
"Is time of great importance to your Highness?" asked the head of the
association, speaking with his decidedly Cockney twang.
"A week or ten days--not longer," she replied.
"Then we will try Pere Perrin to-morrow, and let you know the result.
Of course, I shall not tell him whose property it is. He will believe
that we have obtained it in the ordinary way of our profession. Perrin
is an old Jew who lives over at Batignolles, and who asks no questions.
The stuff he buys goes to Russia or to Italy."
"Very well. I leave it to you to do your best for me, Mr. Redmayne,"
was her reply. "I put my trust in you implicitly."
"Your Imperial Highness is one of the few persons--beyond our own
friends here--who do. To most people Roddy Redmayne is a man not to be
trusted, even as far as you can see him!" and he grinned, adding, "But
here we are at the Pont d'Austerlitz. Harry and I will descend, and
you, Bourne, will accompany the Princess to her hotel."
Then he shouted an order to the man to stop, and after again receiving
her Highness's warmest thanks, the expert thief and his companion
alighted, and, bowing to her, disappeared.
When the cab moved on again towards the Place de la Bastille, she turned
to the Englishman beside her, saying--
"I owe all this to you, Mr. Bourne, and I assure you I feel most deeply
grateful. One day I hope I may be of some service to you, if," and she
paused and looked at him--"well, if only to secure your withdrawal from
a criminal life."
"Ah, Princess," he sighed wistfully, "if I only could see my way clear
to live honestly! But to do so requires money, money--and I have none.
The gentlemanly dress which you see me wearing is only an imposture and
a fraud--like all my life, alas! nowadays."
She realised that this man, a gentleman by birth, was eager to extricate
himself from the low position into which he had, by force of adverse
circumstances, fallen. He was a cosmopolitan of cosmopolitans, a quiet,
slow-speaking, slightly built, high-browed, genial-souled man, with his
slight, dark moustache, shrewd dark eyes, and a mouth that had humour
smiling at the corners; a man of middle height, his dark hair showing
the first sign of changing early to grey, and a countenance bitten and
scarred by all the winds and suns of the round globe; a wise and quiet
man, able to keep his own counsel, able to get his own end with few
words, and yet unable to shape his own destiny; a marvellous impostor,
the friend of men and women of the _haut monde_, who all thought him a
gentleman, and never for one instant suspected his true occupation.
Such was the man who had once risked his life for hers, the man who had
now returned her stolen jewels to her, and who was at that moment seated
at her side escorting her to her hotel on terms of intimate friendship.
She thought deeply over his bitter words of regret that he was what he
was. Could she assist him, she wondered. But how?
"Remain patient," she urged, in a calm, kindly tone. "I shall never
forget my great indebtedness to you, and I will do my utmost in order
that you may yet realise your wish to lead an honest life. At this
moment I am, like yourself, an outcast, wondering what the future may
have in store for me. But be patient and hope, for it shall be my most
strenuous endeavour to assist you to realise your commendable desire."
"Ah! really your Highness is far too kind," he answered, in a voice that
seemed to her to falter in emotion. "I only hope that some way will
open out to me. I would welcome any appointment, however menial, that
took me out of my present shameful profession--that of a thief."
"I really believe you," she said. "I can quite understand that it is
against the nature of a man of honour to find himself in your position."
"I assure you, Princess, that I hate myself," he declared in earnest
confidence. "What greater humility can befall a man than to be
compelled to admit that he is a thief--as I admitted to you this
afternoon? I might have concealed the fact, it is true, and have
returned the jewels anonymously; yet an explanation of the reason of my
sudden flight from Treysa after all your kindness was surely due to you.
And--well, I was forced to tell you the whole truth, and allow you to
judge me as you will."
"As I have already said, Mr. Bourne, your profession does not concern
me. Many a man of note and of high position and power in the Ministries
of Europe commits far greater peculations than you do, yet is regarded
as a great man, and holds the favour of his sovereign until he commits
the unpardonable sin of being found out. No, a man is not always what
his profession is."
"I thank you for regarding me in such a lenient light, your Highness,
and I only look forward with hope to the day when, by some turn of
Fortune's wheel, I gain the liberty to be honest," he answered.
"Remember, Mr. Bourne, that I am your friend; and I hope you are still
mine in return," she said, for the cab had now stopped at the corner of
the Rue d'Amsterdam, as he had ordered it, for it was running
unnecessary risk for him to drive with her up to the hotel.
"Thank you, Princess," he said earnestly, raising his hat, his dark,
serious eyes meeting hers. "Let us be mutual friends, and perhaps we
can help each other. Who knows? When I lay in the hospital with my
chest broken in I often used to wonder what you would say if you knew my
real identity. You, an Imperial Princess, were sending flowers and
fruit from the royal table to a criminal for whom half the police in
Europe were in active search!"
"Even an Imperial Princess is not devoid of gratitude," she said, when
he was out upon the pavement and had closed the door of the cab.
The vehicle moved forward to the hotel, and he was left there, bowing in
silence before her, his hat in his hand.
To the hall porter she gave the precious bag, with orders to send it at
once to her room, and then turned to pay the cabman.