"Still in the drawing-room. I have ordered the musicians to play, and
consequently there is more or less dancing. But, of course, nothing can
remove the wet blanket which has fallen over us all,--nothing but the
finding of this jewel. Do you see your way to accomplishing this? We
are, from this very moment, at your disposal; only I pray that you will
make no more disturbance than is necessary, and, if possible, arouse no
suspicions you can not back up by facts. I dread a scandal almost as
much as I do sickness and death, and these young people--well, their
lives are all before them, and neither Mrs. Burton nor myself would wish
to throw the shadow of a false suspicion over the least of them."
I assured her that I sympathized with her scruples and would do my best
to recover the ruby without inflicting undue annoyance upon the
innocent. Then I inquired whether it was known that a detective had been
called in. She seemed to think it was suspected by some, if not by all.
At which my way seemed a trifle complicated.
We were about to proceed when another thought struck me.
"Madam, you have not said whether the carriage itself was searched."
"I forgot. Yes, the carriage was thoroughly overhauled, and before the
coachman left the box."
"Who did this overhauling?"
"My son. He would not trust any other hand than his own in a business of
this kind."
"One more question, madam. Was any one seen to approach Mr. Deane on the
carriage-drive prior to his assertion that the jewel was lost?"
"No. _And there were no tracks in the snow of any such person._ My son
looked."
And I would look, or so I decided within myself, but I said nothing; and
in silence we proceeded toward the drawing-room.
I had left my overcoat behind me, and always being well-dressed, I did
not present so bad an appearance. Still I was not in party attire and
naturally could not pass for a guest if I had wanted to, which I did
not. I felt that I must rely on insight in this case and on a certain
power I had always possessed of reading faces. That the case called for
just this species of intuition I was positive. Mrs. Burton's ruby was
within a hundred yards of us at this very moment, probably within a
hundred feet; but to lay hands on it and without scandal--well, that was
a problem calculated to rouse the interest of even an old police-officer
like myself.
A strain of music, desultory, however, and spiritless, like everything
else about the place that night, greeted us as Mrs. Ashley opened the
door leading directly into the large front hall.
Immediately a scene meant to be festive, but which was, in fact,
desolate, burst upon us. The lights, the flowers and the brilliant
appearance of such ladies as flitted into sight from the almost empty
parlors, were all suggestive of the cheer suitable to a great occasion;
but in spite of this, the effect was altogether melancholy, for the
hundreds who should have graced this scene, and for whom this
illumination had been made and these festoons hung, had been turned away
from the gates, and the few who felt they must remain, because their
hostess showed no disposition to let them go, wore any but holiday
faces, for all their forced smiles and pitiful attempts at nonchalance
and gaiety.
I scrutinized these faces carefully. I detected nothing in them but
annoyance at a situation which certainly was anything but pleasant.
Turning to Mrs. Ashley, I requested her to be kind enough to point out
her son, adding that I should be glad to have a moment's conversation
with him, also with Mr. Deane.
"Mr. Deane is in one of those small rooms over there. He is quite upset.
Not even Mrs. Burton can comfort him. My son--Oh, there is Harrison!"
A tall, fine-looking young man was crossing the hall. Mrs. Ashley called
him to her, and in another moment we were standing together in one of
the empty parlors.