you'll find you've made a big mistake over this. By Heaven! I'll ruin
you, you infernal, stuck-up English pup!"
His face was red with passion; he flung open the door, slammed it after
him, and went out into the street.
Frank heard him go. "All idle bluff," he said to himself. "The
scoundrel! He must have taken me for an idiot, I think. I've had
enough of this, and shall clear out, bag and baggage, to-day. Things
are getting too unpleasant."
He jumped up, poured the water into his bath, and began his ablutions.
Meanwhile, Otto Staarbrucker, raging with anger and malice, was striding
along the shady side of the street, straight for the chief detective's
house. Despite his tinge of Jewish blood, there was in his system a
strong touch of the wild ungovernable temper, not seldom found in the
Teutonic race. It was not long before he had reached the detective's
house, and announced himself. Carefully subduing, as far as possible,
the outward manifestation of his malicious wrath, he informed the acute
official, to whom he was, at his own request, shown, that his lodger,
Mr Farnborough, was in possession of a valuable unregistered diamond,
which he stated he had found in a stuffed crocodile's interior, or some
equally improbable place. That to his own knowledge the stone had been
unregistered for some days, although he had repeatedly urged Farnborough
to declare it; that the whole surroundings of the case were, to his
mind, very suspicious; and, finally, that, as he could not take the
responsibility of such a position of affairs under his roof, he had come
down to report the matter.
The detective pricked up his ears at the story, reflected for a few
moments, and then said: "I suppose there is no mistake about this
business, Mr Staarbrucker. It is, as you know, a very serious matter,
and may mean the `Breakwater.' Mr Farnborough has a good position in
De Beers, and some strong friends, and it seems rather incredible
(although we're never surprised at anything, where diamonds are in
question) that he should have got himself into such a mess as you tell
me."
"I am quite certain of what I tell you," replied Staarbrucker. "If you
go up to my house now, you'll find Farnborough in his bedroom, and the
stone's somewhere on him, or in his room. Don't lose time."
"Well," responded the detective, "I'll see to the matter at once. So
long, Mr Staarbrucker!"
Mr Flecknoe, the shrewdest and most active diamond official in
Kimberley, as was his wont, lost not an instant. He nosed the tainted
gale of a quarry. In this case he was a little uncertain, it is true;
but yet there was the tell-tale taint, the true diamond taint, and it
must at once be followed. Mr Flecknoe ran very mute upon a trail, and
in a few minutes he was at Staarbrucker's bungalow. Staarbrucker
himself had, wisely perhaps, gone down to his store, there to await
events. Vitriolic anger still ran hotly within him. He cared for
nothing in the world, and was perfectly reckless, provided only that
Frank Farnborough were involved in ruin, absolute and utter.
Mr Flecknoe knocked, as a matter of form, in a pleasant, friendly way
at the open door of the cottage, and then walked straight in. He seemed
to know his way very completely--there were few things in Kimberley that
he did not know--and he went straight to Frank's bedroom, knocked again
and entered. Frank was by this time out of his bath, and in the act of
shaving. It cannot be denied that the detective's appearance, so soon
after Staarbrucker's threat, rather staggered him, and he paled
perceptibly. The meshes of the I.D.B. nets are terribly entangling, as
Frank knew only too well, and I.D.B. laws are no matters for light
jesting. Mr Flecknoe noted the change of colour.
[I.D.B., Illicit Diamond Buying, a highly criminal offence in South
Africa.]
"Well, Mr Flecknoe," said the younger man, as cheerily as he could
muster, for he knew the detective very well, "what can I do for you?"
"I've come about the diamond, Mr Farnborough; I suppose you can show
title to it?"
"No, I can't show a title," replied Frank. "It came into my possession
in a very astounding way, a day or two since, and I was going to tell
the manager all about it to-day and `declare' the stone."
Frank then proceeded to tell the detective shortly the whole story, and
finally, the scene with Staarbrucker that morning.
Flecknoe listened patiently enough, and at the end said quietly: "I am
afraid, Mr Farnborough, you have been a little rash. I shall have to
ask you to come down to the office with me and explain further. Have
you the stone?"
"Yes, here's the stone," replied Frank, producing the diamond from a
little bag from under his pillow, and exhibiting it on his palm. "I
won't hand it over to you at this moment, but I'll willingly do so at
the office in presence of third parties. Just let me finish shaving,
and I'll come along."
"Very well," said Mr Flecknoe, rather grimly, taking a chair. "I'll
wait."
That evening, some astounding rumours concerning a De Beers official
were afloat in Kimberley. Farnborough's absence from his usual place at
the "Central" _table d'hote_ was noticed significantly, and next morning
the whole town was made aware, by the daily paper, of some startling
occurrences. Two days later it became known that Frank Farnborough had
been sent for trial on a charge of I.D.B.; that his friend Staarbrucker
had, with manifest reluctance, given important and telling evidence
against him; that bail had been, for the present, refused, and that the
unfortunate young man, but twenty-four hours since a universal Kimberley
favourite, well known at cricket, football, and other diversions, now
lay in prison in imminent peril of some years' penal servitude at
Capetown Breakwater. The town shook its head, said to itself, "Another
good man gone wrong," instanced, conversationally over the bars of the
"Transvaal," "Central," and other resorts, cases of the many promising
young men who had gone under, victims of the poisonous fascination of
the diamond, and went about its business.
But there was a certain small leaven of real friends, who refused
utterly to believe in Frank's guilt. These busied themselves
unweariedly in organising his defence, cabling to friends in England,
collecting evidence, and doing all in their power to bring their
favourite through one of the heaviest ordeals that a man may be
confronted with.
The morning of the trial came at last. The season was now South African
mid-winter; there was a clear blue sky over Kimberley, and the air was
crisp, keen, and sparkling under the brilliant sunlight. The two judges
and resident magistrate came into court, alert and sharp-set, and
proceedings began. Frank was brought in for trial, looking white and
harassed, yet determined.
As he came into court, and faced the crowded gathering of advocates,
solicitors, witnesses, and spectators--for this was a _cause celebre_ in
Kimberley--he was encouraged to see, here and there, the cheering nod
and smile, and even the subdued wave of the hand, of many sympathising
friends, black though the case looked against him. And he was fired,
too, by the flame of indignation as he saw before him the big, florid
face--now a trifle more florid even than usual from suppressed
excitement--and the shining, upturned eyeglasses of his arch-enemy and
lying betrayer, Otto Staarbrucker. Thank God! Nina was not in the
assembly; she, at least, had no part or lot in this shameful scene. And
yet, after what had passed, could Nina be trusted? Nina, with all her
friendliness, her even tenderer feelings, was but the sister of Otto
Staarbrucker. Her conduct ever since Frank's committal had been
enigmatical; her brother, it was to be supposed, had guarded her safely,
and, although she had been subpoenaed upon Frank's behalf, she had
vouchsafed no evidence, nor given a sign of interest in her former
friend's fate.
Counsel for the prosecution, a well-known official of Griqualand West,
opened the case in his gravest and most impressive manner. The offence
for which the prisoner was to be tried was, he said, although unhappily
but too familiar to Kimberley people, one of the gravest in the Colony.
One feature of this unhappy case was the position of the prisoner, who,
up to the time of the alleged offence, had borne an unimpeachable
character, and had been well known as one of the most popular young men
in Kimberley. Possibly, this very popularity had furnished the reason
for the crime, the cause of the downfall. Popularity, as most men knew,
was, in Kimberley, an expensive luxury, and it would be shown that for
some time past, Farnborough had moved and lived in a somewhat
extravagant set. The learned counsel then proceeded to unfold with
great skill the case for the prosecution. Mr Staarbrucker, an old
friend of the prisoner, and a gentleman of absolutely unimpeachable
testimony, would, with the greatest reluctance, prove that he had by
chance found Farnborough in possession of a large and valuable stone,
which the prisoner--apparently surprised in the act of admiring it--had
alleged, in a confused way, to have been found--in what?--in the
interior of a dried crocodile! One of the most painful features of this
case would be the evidence of Miss Staarbrucker, who, though with even
more reluctance than her brother, would corroborate in every detail the
surprising of the prisoner in possession of the stolen diamond. He
approached this part of the evidence with extreme delicacy; but, in the
interests of justice, it would be necessary to show that a friendship of
the closest possible nature, to put it in no tenderer light, had
latterly sprung into existence between the prisoner and the young lady
in question. Clearly then, no evidence could well be stronger than the
testimony, wrung from Miss Staarbrucker with the greatest reluctance and
the deepest pain, as to the finding of Farnborough in possession of the
diamond, and of the lame and utterly incredible tale invented by him on
the spur of the moment, when thus surprised by the brother and sister.
The evidence of Mr and Miss Staarbrucker would be closely supported by
that of Mr Flecknoe, the well-known Kimberley detective, who had made
the arrest Mr Staarbrucker, it would be shown, had urged upon the
prisoner for two entire days the absolute necessity of giving up and
"declaring" the stone. Finally, certain grave suspicions had, chiefly
from the demeanour of Farnborough, forced themselves into his mind. One
more interview he had with the prisoner, and then, upon his again
declining absolutely to take the only safe and proper course open to
him, Mr Staarbrucker had, for his own protection, proceeded to the
detective department and himself informed the authorities of the
presence of the stone. No man could have done more for his friend. He
had risked his own and his sister's safety for two days--he could do no
more. The prisoner's statement to the Staarbruckers and to Mr Flecknoe
was that the crocodile skin came from the Mahalapsi River in North
Bechuanaland, and that the stone must have been picked up and swallowed
by the living reptile somewhere in those regions. He, counsel, need
hardly dwell upon the wildness, the ludicrous impossibility, of such a
theory. Three witnesses of the highest credibility and reputation, well
known in Kimberley, and in the markets of London and Amsterdam, as
experts in diamonds, would declare upon oath that the so-called
"Mahalapsi Diamond"--the learned counsel rolled out the phrase with a
fine flavour of humorous disdain--came, not from the far-off borders of
the Bechuanaland river, but from the recesses of the De Beers mine--from
Kimberley itself!
[It is perfectly well known in South Africa that diamond experts can at
once pick out a particular stone and indicate its mine of origin.
Practice has created perfection in this respect, and stones, whether
from De Beers, Du Toit's Pan, Bultfontein, the Kimberley mine, or the
Vaal River, can be at once identified.]
Here there was a visible "sensation" (that mysterious compound of
shifting, whispering, and restless movement) in court. "Yes," continued
the advocate, "the stone is beyond all shadow of a doubt a De Beers
stone. It is not registered. The prisoner has no title to it; the
diamond is a stolen diamond; and if, as I have little doubt, I shall
succeed in proving my facts to you clearly and incontestably, the
prisoner must take the consequences of his guilt. If indeed he be
guilty, then let justice, strict but not vindictive justice, be done.
Kimberley, in spite of the severest penalties, the most deterrent
legislation, is still eaten up and honeycombed by the vile and illicit
traffic in diamonds."
The advocate warmed to his peroration, and, as he was a holder of De
Beers shares, he naturally felt what he said. The court was already
becoming warm. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. It is
hot work delivering an important speech in South Africa. "In the name
of Heaven, I say," he continued, striking the desk with his clenched
fist, "let us have done with this vile and monstrous traffic, that
renders our city--one of the foremost cities in South Africa--a byword
and a laughing-stock among the nations."
Otto Staarbrucker was the first witness called. He gave his evidence
with great clearness, and conveyed, with consummate skill, the
impression of his extreme reluctance and pain at having thus brought his
former friend into trouble. Only the natural instinct of
self-protection, on behalf of himself and his sister, and the absolute
refusal of the prisoner to "declare" the diamond, had induced him to
take the extreme step of informing the authorities. One item, and that
an important one, was added to the evidence tendered by him upon the
occasion of the prisoner's committal. He had omitted then to state that
on two evenings, shortly before his discovery of the diamond in
Farnborough's possession, he had seen the prisoner, not far from the
house, in earnest conversation with a native. The time was evening, and
it was dark, and he was unable to positively identify the "boy." This
evidence, as was suggested by counsel for the prosecution, tended
manifestly to couple the prisoner with a native diamond thief, and
thereby to tighten the damning chain of evidence now being wound about
him. Staarbrucker suffered it to be extracted from him with an art
altogether admirable. He had not mentioned the fact at the former
hearing, thinking it of trifling importance. The prosecuting advocate,
on the contrary, exhibited it with manifest care and parade, as a most
important link in the case.
This piece of evidence, it may be at once stated, was a bit of pure and
infamous invention on Otto's part, an afterthought suggested by seeing
Frank once give an order to a native groom. In the hands of himself and
a clever advocate it did its work.
In cross-examination, Otto Staarbrucker suffered very little at the
hands of the defending advocate, skilful though the latter proved
himself. The prisoner's theory (and indeed, perfectly true story) of
his, Staarbrucker's, repeated offers of a prospecting partnership, and
of his ultimate rage and vexation upon Frank's refusal, he treated with
an amused, slightly contemptuous surprise. The man was a finished
actor, and resisted all the assaults of counsel upon this and other
points of the story with supreme skill and coolness. The touch of
sympathy for the prisoner, too, was never lost sight of. Frank
Farnborough, as he glared fiercely at this facile villain, reeling off
lie after lie with damning effrontery, felt powerless. What could he do
or say against such a man? To express the burning indignation he felt,
would be but to injure his case the more fatally. With difficulty
indeed, while he felt his fingers tingling to be at the slanderer's
throat, he restrained himself, as Otto's calm eye occasionally wandered
to his, expressing, as plainly as might be for the benefit of all
present, its sympathy and sorrow at the unfortunate situation of his
former friend.
The next witness called was "Miss Nina Staarbrucker." Again there was a
manifest sensation. Miss Staarbrucker was well known in Kimberley, and
every eye turned in the direction of the door. There was some delay; at
length a passage was made through the crowded court, and Nina appeared.
Before she steps into the witness-box it may be well to explain Nina's
attitude and feelings from the morning of the day upon which Frank's
arrest had been made.
After cooling down somewhat from the paroxysm of rage and revenge, which
had impelled him to turn traitor upon his friend, and deliver him into
the none too tender hands of the detective authorities, Otto
Staarbrucker had suffered a strong revulsion of feeling. He regretted,
chiefly for his own ease and comfort, the rash step he had taken, and
would have given a good deal to retrace it. But the die was irrevocably
cast; having chosen his path, he must perforce follow it.
He was well aware of Nina's friendship--fondness he might call it--for
Frank; her sympathy would most certainly be enlisted actively on the
young man's behalf immediately upon hearing of his position. At all
hazards she must be kept quiet. Shortly before tiffin, he returned to
the house. Calling Nina into the sitting-room, he shut the door and sat
down.
"Nina," he said, "I have some bad news for you. Don't excite yourself,
or make a fuss, but listen carefully and quietly to what I tell you, and
then we'll put our heads together and see what is best to be done."
Nina turned pale. She feared some news of disaster to Otto's business,
which latterly, as she knew, had been none too flourishing. Otto went
on:
"I heard, late last night, from an unexpected quarter, that the
detective people had an inkling of an unregistered diamond in this
house. You know very well what that means. I went to Frank Farnborough
both late last night and early this morning. I begged and entreated
him, for his own sake, for all our sakes, to go at once first thing this
morning and hand over and declare the stone. This he refused to do, and
in a very insulting way. I had no other course open, for my own safety
and yours, but to give the information myself. I am afraid matters have
been complicated by the discovery that the diamond is a De Beers stone,
undoubtedly stolen. Frank is in a temporary mess, but we shall be able
to get him out of the difficulty somehow."
Nina had uttered a low cry of pain at the beginning of this speech. She
knew too well the danger, and, as Otto went on, her heart seemed almost
to stand still within her.
"Oh," she gasped, "what is to be done? What shall we do? I must see
Frank at once. Surely an explanation from us both should be sufficient
to clear him?" She rose as she spoke.
"My dear Nina; first of all we must do nothing rash. We shall no doubt
be easily able to get Frank out of his trouble. The thing is, of
course, absurd. He has been a little foolish--as indeed we all have--
that is all. For the present you must leave every thing to me. I don't
want to have your name dragged into the matter even for a day. If there
is any serious trouble, you shall be consulted. Trust to me, and we
shall make matters all right."
By one pretext or another, Otto managed to keep his sister quiet, and to
allay her worst fears, until two days after, by which time Frank had
been sent for trial and was safely in prison. Nina had meanwhile
fruitlessly endeavoured to possess her soul in patience. When Otto had
come in that evening and told her of the news, "Why was I not called in
evidence?" she asked fiercely. "Surely I could have done something for
Frank. You seem to me to take this matter--a matter of life and death--
with very extraordinary coolness. I cannot imagine why you have not
done more. You know Frank is as innocent as we are ourselves. We ought
to have moved heaven and earth to save him this dreadful degradation.
What--what can he think of me? I shall go to-morrow and see his
solicitors and tell them the whole of the facts!"
Next morning, Nina read an account of the proceedings in the newspaper.
It was plainly apparent, from the report of Otto's evidence, that there
was something very wrong going on. She taxed her brother with it.
"My dear Nina, be reasonable," he said. "Of course Frank has got into a
desperate mess. I was not going to give myself away, because I happened
to know, innocently, that he had an unregistered diamond for two or
three days in his possession. I have since found out that Frank knew a
good deal more of the origin of that diamond than I gave him credit for,
and it was my plain duty to protect myself."
This was an absolute fabrication, and Nina more than half suspected it.
"But you were trying to make arrangements with Frank to prospect the
very place the stone came from," said the girl.
"I admit that, fully," replied Otto calmly. "But I never then suspected
that the diamond was stolen. I imagined it was innocently come by. It
was foolish, I admit, and I am not quite such an idiot, after giving the
information I did, to own now that I was prepared to go in for a
speculation with Frank upon the idea of the diamond being an up-country
one. Now, clearly understand me, not a word must be said upon this
point, or you may involve me in just such a mess as Frank is in."
Nina was fairly bewildered, and held her peace. Matters had taken such
astounding turns. The diamond, it seemed after all, was a stolen one,
and a De Beers stone to boot; she knew not what to think, or where to
turn for guidance and information. And yet, something must be done to
help Frank.
For the next few days, the girl moved about the house like a ghost,
seldom speaking to her brother, except to give the barest replies to his
scant remarks.
Several times she was in a mind to go straight to Frank's solicitor and
tell her version of the whole affair. But then, again, there were many
objections to such a course. She would be received with great
suspicion, as an informer from an enemy's camp. After almost
insufferable doubts and heartaches, Nina judged it best to wait until
the day of trial, and then and there to give her version of the affair
as she knew it. Surely the judge would give ear to a truthful and
unprejudiced witness, anxious only to save an honest and cruelly misused
man! Surely, surely Frank could and should be saved!
About a week before the trial, she was subpoenaed as a witness on behalf
of both prosecution and defence, and finally, the day before the
terrible event, Otto had a long interview with her upon the subject of
her evidence. Her proof he himself had carefully prepared and corrected
with the prosecuting solicitor; excusing his sister upon the ground of
ill-health and nervousness, but guaranteeing her evidence at the trial.
He now impressed upon her, with great solemnity and anxiety, the
absolute necessity of her story coinciding precisely with his own. Nina
listened in a stony silence and said almost nothing. Otto was not
satisfied, and expressed himself so.
"Nina," he said sharply, "let us clearly understand one another. My
tale is simple enough, and after what has occurred--the finding of a
stolen diamond and not an innocent stone from up-country--I cannot
conceal from myself that Frank must be guilty. You must see this
yourself. Don't get me into a mess, by any dangerous sympathies, or
affections, or feelings of that sort. Be the sensible, good sister you
always have been, and, whatever you do, be careful; guard your tongue
and brain in court, with the greatest watchfulness. Remember, my
reputation--your brother's reputation--is at stake, as well as Frank's!"
Nina dared not trust herself to say much. Her soul sickened within her;
but, for Frank's sake, she must be careful. Her course on the morrow
was fully made up. She replied to Otto: "I shall tell my story as
simply and shortly as possible. In spite of what you say, I know, and
you must know, that Frank is perfectly innocent. I know little about
the matter, except seeing Frank with the diamond in his hand that night.
You may be quite content. I shall not injure you in any way."