The mother's shrill imprecations against the police in general, and me
in particular, passed me by unheeded. I only saw the young girl's
deadly pale face, as she lifted it to me, and the hopeless expression of
her eyes.
She was gifted, however, with a strength of mind which few persons
possess. She got up hurriedly, stroked back her hair from her face, and
was the first to speak.
Her voice was low, but wonderfully calm; every drop of blood seemed to
have fled from her lips.
"You have come to arrest me, Mr. Monk, because I have stolen Mr. Frick's
diamond. Well, I have been expecting it both yesterday and to-day.
Yesterday I should probably have denied it, but to-day I don't! I have
stolen the diamond--let me be taken to prison and be sentenced as soon
as possible, only let it be done quickly."
Her mother had become purple in the face on hearing what her daughter
said, and tried several times to interrupt her; but there was a dignity
in her daughter's words and bearing which stayed her.
"Don't lose courage, Evelina," I said, and I hope my voice was
sympathetic. "There are probably extenuating circumstances which may
make your guilt less than it seems. If you are only frank, and confess
all, your punishment will be less,--perhaps even--"
The young girl interrupted me. "Thank you very much for your kindness,
Mr. Monk. You are a good man; but I don't wish my punishment to be
lessened. I have told you I have stolen the diamond. More than that I
shall not say, even if you put me on the rack."
"For God's sake don't talk like that, Evelina."