near St. Stephen's Church--she sits under, or on, one of the curates
there. If you can get her address from her coachman, do so. But go and
dress and be in Portman Square at the earliest possible moment."
It was now very near one o'clock, indeed the hour struck as I passed the
chapel in Orchard Street; and when I came into the square I found my own
coachman waiting with the brougham at the corner by Baker Street. I
told him, before I entered the house, to expect Abel; and not by any
chance to draw up at Lady Faber's. Then I made my way quietly to the
ball-room and observed Mrs. Kavanagh--I will not say dancing, but
hurling herself through the last figure of the lancers. It was evident
that she did not intend to quit yet awhile; and I left her to get some
supper, choosing a seat near to the door of the dining-room, so that any
one passing must be seen by me. To my surprise, I had not been in the
room ten minutes when she suddenly appeared in the hall, unattended, and
her cloak wrapped round her; but she passed without perceiving me; and
I, waiting until I heard the hall door close, went out instantly and got
my wraps. Many of the guests had left already, but a few carriages and
cabs were in the square, and a linkman seemed busy in the distribution
of unlimited potations. It occurred to me that if Abel had not got the
woman's address, this man might give it to me, and I put the plain
question to him.
"That lady who just left," said I, "did she have a carriage or a cab?"
"Oh, you mean Mrs. Kevenner," he answered thickly, "she's a keb, she is,
allus takes a hansom, sir; 192, Westbourne Park; I don't want to ask
when I see her, sir."
"Thank you," said I, "she has dropped a piece of jewelry in the hall,
and I thought I would drive round and return it to her."
He looked surprised, at the notion, perhaps, of any one returning
anything found in a London ball-room but I left him with his
astonishment and entered my carriage. There I found Abel crouching down
under the front seat, and he met me with a piteous plea that the woman
had no coachman, and that he had failed to obtain her address.
"Never mind that," said I, as we drove off sharply, "what did they say
at the station?"
"They wanted to bring a force of police round, and arrest every one in
the house, sir. I had trouble enough to hold them in, I'm sure. But I
said that we'd sit down and watch if they made any fuss, and then they
gave in. It's agreed now that a dozen men will be at the Harrow Road
station at your call till morning. They've a wonderful confidence in
you, sir."
"It's a pity they haven't more confidence in themselves--but, anyway, we
are in luck. The woman's address is 192, Westbourne Park, and I seem to
remember that it is a square."
"I'm sure of it," said he; "it's a round square in the shape of an
oblong, and one hundred and ninety two is at the side near Durham
something or other; we can watch it easily from the palings."
After this, ten minutes' drive brought us to the place, and I found it
as he had said, the "square" being really a triangle. Number one hundred
and ninety two was a big house, its outer points gone much to decay, but
lighted on its second and third floors; though so far as I could see,
for the blinds of the drawing-room were up, no one was moving. This did
not deter me, however, and, taking my stand with Abel at the corner
where two great trees gave us perfect shelter, we waited silently for
many minutes, to the astonishment of the constable upon the beat, with
whom I soon settled; and to his satisfaction.
"Ah," said he, "I knew they was rum 'uns all along; they owe fourteen
pounds for milk, and their butcher ain't paid; young men going in all
night, too--why, there's one of them there now."
I looked through the trees at his words, and saw that he was right. A
youth in an opera hat and a black coat was upon the doorstep of the
house; and as the light of a street lamp fell upon his face, I
recognized him. He was the boy who had eaten of the jam-tarts so
plentifully at Lady Faber's--the youth with whom Sibyl Kavanagh had
pretended to have no acquaintance when she talked to me in the
conservatory. And at the sight of him, I knew that the moment had come.
"Abel," I said, "it's time you went. Tell the men to bring a short
ladder with them. They'll have to come in by the balcony--but only when
I make a sign. The signal will be the cracking of the glass of that lamp
you can see upon the table there. Did you bring my pistol?"
"Would I forget that?" he asked; "I brought you two, and look out! for
you may want them."
"I know that," said I, "but I depend upon you. Get back at the earliest
possible moment, and don't act until I give the signal. It will mean
that the clue is complete."
He nodded his head, and disappeared quickly in the direction where the
carriage was; but I went straight up to the house, and knocked loudly
upon the door. To my surprise, it was opened at once by a thick-set man
in livery, who did not appear at all astonished to see me.
"They're upstairs, sir, will you go up?" said he.
"Certainly," said I, taking him at his word. "Lead the way."
This request made him hesitate.
"I beg your pardon," said he, "I think I have made a mistake--I'll speak
to Mrs. Kavanagh."
Before I could answer he had run up the stairs nimbly; but I was quick
after him; and when I came upon the landing, I could see into the front
drawing, room, where there sat the woman herself, a small and oldish man
with long black whiskers, and the youth who had just come into the room,
but the back room which gave off from the other with folding-doors, was
empty; and there was no light in it. All this I perceived in a momentary
glance, for no sooner had the servingman spoken to the woman, than she
pushed the youth out upon the balcony, and came hurriedly to the
landing, closing the door behind her.
"Why, Mr. Sutton," she cried, when she saw me, "this is a surprise; I
was just going to bed."
"I was afraid you would have been already gone," said I with the
simplest smile possible, "but I found a diamond spray in Lady Faber's
hall just after you had left. The footman said it must be yours, and as
I am going out of town to-morrow, I thought I would risk leaving it
to-night."
I handed to her as I spoke the spray of diamonds I had taken from my
own show-case in Bond Street; but while she examined it she shot up at
me a quick searching glance from her bright eyes, and her thick sensual
lips were closed hard upon each other. Yet, in the next instant, she
laughed again, and handed me back the jewel.
"I'm indeed very grateful to you," she exclaimed, "but I've just put my
spray in its case; you want to give me some one else's property."
"Then it isn't yours?" said I, affecting disappointment. "I'm really
very sorry for having troubled you."
"It is I that should be sorry for having brought you here," she cried.
"Won't you have a brandy and seltzer or something before you go?"
"Nothing whatever, thanks," said I. "Let me apologize again for having
disturbed you--and wish you 'Good-night.'"
She held out her hand to me, seemingly much reassured; and as I began to
descend the stairs, she re-entered the drawing-room for the purpose, I
did not doubt, of getting the man off the balcony. The substantial
lackey was then waiting in the hall to open the door for me; but I went
down very slowly, for in the truth the whole of my plan appeared to have
failed; and at that moment I was without the veriest rag of an idea. My
object in coming to the house had been to trace, and if possible to lay
hands upon the woman's associates, taking her, as I hoped, somewhat by
surprise; yet though I had made my chain more complete, vital links were
missing; and I stood no nearer to the forging of them. That which I had
to ask myself, and to answer in the space of ten seconds, was the
question, "Now, or to-morrow?"--whether I should leave the house without
effort, and wait until the gang betrayed itself again; or make some bold
stroke which would end the matter there and then. The latter course was
the one I chose. The morrow, said I, may find these people in Paris or
in Belgium; there never may be such a clue again as that of the ruby
pendant--there never may be a similar opportunity of taking at least
three of those for whom we had so long hunted. And with this thought a
whole plan of action suddenly leaped up in my mind; and I acted upon it,
silently and swiftly and with a readiness which to this day I wonder at.
I now stood at the hall-door, which the lackey held open. One searching
look at the man convinced me that my design was a sound one. He was
obtuse, patronizing,--but probably honest. As we faced each other I
suddenly took the door-handle from him, and banged the door loudly,
remaining in the hall. Then I clapped my pistol to his head (though for
this offence I surmise that a judge might have given me a month), and I
whispered fiercely to him:--
"This house is surrounded by police; if you say a word I'll give you
seven years as an accomplice of the woman upstairs, whom we are going to
arrest. When she calls out, answer that I'm gone, and then come back to
me for instructions. If you do as I tell you, you shall not be
charged--otherwise, you go to jail."
At this speech the poor wretch paled before me, and shook so that I
could feel the tremor all down the arm of his which I held.
"I--I won't speak, sir," he gasped. "I won't, I do assure you--to think
as I should have served such folk."
"Then hide me, and be quick about it--in this room here, it seems dark.
Now run upstairs and say I'm gone."
I had stepped into a little breakfast-room at the back of the
dining-room, and there had gone unhesitatingly under a round table. The
place was absolutely dark, and was a vantage ground, since I could see
therefrom the whole of the staircase; but before the footman could mount
the stairs, the woman came half-way down them, and, looking over the
hall, she asked him,--
"Is that gentleman gone?"
"Just left, mum," he replied.
"Then go to bed, and never let me see you admit a stranger like that
again."
She went up again at this, and he turned to me, asking,--
"What shall I do now, sir? I'll do anything if you'll speak for me, sir;
I've got twenty years' kerecter from Lord Walley; to think as she's a
bad 'un--it's hardly creditable."
"I shall speak for you," said I, "if you do exactly what I tell you. Are
any more men expected now?"
"Yes, there's two more; the capting and the clergymin, pretty clergymin
he must be, too."
"Never mind that; wait and let them in. Then go upstairs and turn the
light out on the staircase as if by accident. After that you can go to
bed."
"Did you say the police was 'ere?" he asked in his hoarse whisper; and I
said,--
"Yes, they're everywhere, on the roof, and in the street, and on the
balcony. If there's the least resistance, the house will swarm with
them."
What he would have said to this I cannot tell, for at that moment there
was another knock upon the front door, and he opened it instantly. Two
men, one in clerical dress, and one, a very powerful man, in a Newmarket
coat, went quickly upstairs, and the butler followed them. A moment
later the gas went out on the stairs; and there was no sound but the
echo of the talk in the front drawing-room.
The critical moment in my night's work had now come. Taking off my
boots, and putting my revolver at the half-cock, I crawled up the stairs
with the step of a cat, and entered the back drawing-room. One of the
folding doors of this was ajar, so that a false step would probably have
cost me my life--and I could not possibly tell if the police were really
in the street, or only upon their way. But it was my good luck that the
men talked loudly, and seemed actually to be disputing. The first thing
I observed on looking through the open door was that the woman had left
the four to themselves. Three of them stood about the table whereon the
lamp was; the dumpy man with the black whiskers sat in his arm-chair.
But the most pleasing sight of all was that of a large piece of
cotton-wool spread upon the table, and almost covered with brooches,
lockets, and sprays of diamonds; and to my infinite satisfaction I saw
Lady Faber's pendant of rubies lying conspicuous even amongst the wealth
of jewels which the light showed.
There then was the clue; but how was it to be used? It came to me
suddenly that four consummate rogues such as these were would not be
unarmed. Did I step into the room, they might shoot me at the first
sound: and if the police had not come, that would be the end of it. Had
opportunity been permitted to me, I would, undoubtedly, have waited five
or ten minutes to assure myself that Abel was in the street without. But
this was not to be. Even as I debated the point, a candle's light shone
upon the staircase; and in another moment Mrs. Kavanagh herself stood in
the doorway watching me. For one instant she stood, but it served my
purpose; and as a scream rose upon her lips, and I felt my heart
thudding against my ribs, I threw open the folding doors, and
deliberately shot down the glass of the lamp which had cast the aureola
of light upon the stolen jewels.
As the glass flew, for my reputation as a pistol shot was not belied in
this critical moment, Mrs. Kavanagh ran in a wild fit of hysterical
screaming to her bedroom above--but the four men turned with loud cries
to the door where they had seen me; and as I saw them coming, I prayed
that Abel might be there. This thought need not have occurred to me.
Scarce had the men taken two steps when the glass of the balcony
windows was burst in with a crash, and the whole room seemed to fill
with police.
* * * * *
I cannot now remember precisely the sentences which were passed upon the
great gang (known to police history as the Westbourne Park gang) of
jewel thieves; but the history of that case is curious enough to be
worthy of mention. The husband of the woman Kavanagh--he of the black
whiskers--was a man of the name of Whyte, formerly a manager in the
house of James Thorndike, the Universal Provider near the Tottenham
Court Road. Whyte's business had been to provide all things needful for
dances; and, though it astonishes me to write it, he had even found
dancing men for many ladies whose range of acquaintance was narrow. In
the course of business, he set up for himself eventually; and as he
worked, the bright idea came to him, why not find as guests men who may
snap up, in the heat and the security of the dance, such unconsidered
trifles as sprays, pendants, and lockets. To this end he married, and
his wife being a clever woman who fell in with his idea, she--under the
name of Kavanagh--made the acquaintance of a number of youths whose
business it was to dance; and eventually wormed herself into many good
houses. The trial brought to light the extraordinary fact that no less
than twenty-three men and eight women were bound in this amazing
conspiracy, and that Kavanagh acted as the buyer of the property they
stole, giving them a third of the profits, and swindling them
outrageously. He, I believe, is now taking the air at Portland; and the
other young men are finding in the exemplary exercise of picking oakum,
work for idle hands to do.
As for Mrs. Kavanagh, she was dramatic to the end of it; and, as I
learnt from King, she insisted on being arrested in bed.
MY LADY OF THE SAPPHIRES.
MY LADY OF THE SAPPHIRES.
A photograph of My Lady of the Sapphires is hung immediately opposite to
the writing-table in my private office. It is there much on the
principle which compels a monk to set a skull upon his praying-stool, or
a son of Mohammed to ejaculate pious phrases at the call of the muezzin.
"_Nemo solus sapit_," wrote Plautus. Had Fate cast him in the mould of a
jeweler, rather than that of a playwright, he would have set down a
stronger phrase.
I first saw My Lady two years ago, though it was only upon the day of my
introduction that I learnt her name. She had then, though I knew it not,
been before the town for many weeks as a physiognomist, a mistress of
the stars, a reader of faces, and in many other capacities interesting
to the idle and the credulous. Society, which laughed at her
predictions, paid innumerable guineas for the possession of them; great
dames sat in her boudoir and discussed amatory possibilities; even the
youth of the city, drawn by the prettiness of her manner and her
unquestionable good looks, came cheerfully to hear that they would have
money "from two sources," or had passed through the uninteresting
complaints of infancy without harm. In her way, she was the event of the
season. Dowagers scolded her, but came again and again to probe family
secrets, and learn the hidden things about their husbands; men flocked
to her to know what possibility there was of an early return to the
bliss of single life; mere boys ventured upon the hazard of a little
mild flirtation--and were at once shown the door by a formidable lackey.
Throughout her career scandal never lifted its voice against her. She
was engaged ultimately to Jack Lucas, and her marriage was as brilliant
as her career had been fortunate.
When a curious chance and combination of events first brought me to
acquaintance with her she was in the very height of her practice.
Carriages crowded daily in Dover Street where, with her mother, she had
rooms--and it was the thing to consult her. Yet, until I dined casually
one night with Colonel Oldfield, the collector of cat's-eyes, and
Bracebridge, at the Bohemian Club, hard by her house, I had never heard
of her. The conversation turned during the soup--when talk is always
watery--upon the press of broughams in the street without, and Oldfield
mentioned her history to me, and the surprising nature of many things
she had told him.
"It is easy enough," said he, "to look at a man's hand and deduce
scarlet-fever and measles somewhere between two and twelve years of age;
but when a woman tells you calmly that you were ready to die for two
other women at the age of one-and-twenty, it's a thing to make you
pause."
"Which I hope you did," exclaimed Bracebridge. "Love is distinctly a
matter for specialization."
"I did pause, sir," said the colonel severely, "and that's where her
cleverness comes in. She told me that neither of the women cared the
snap of a finger for me, and I have really come to the conclusion that
she was right. Years put a glamour upon most things, but it is hard,
even at fifty, to recall a woman's 'no' of thirty years ago."
"Memory is a dangerous vice which should be controlled," said
Bracebridge; "if you want peace, you must learn to forget. There should
be no yesterday for the man of the world. But I know the morbid kind of
recollection you speak about. There was a fellow here only the other
night who kept a proposal book. He put the 'noes' on one side, and the
'ayes' on the other, and balanced the columns every Christmas. One day
he left the book in a cab, and has spent his time since going to
Scotland Yard for it. That comes of reminiscences!"
"I agree with you in the main," said the Colonel! "there is very little
in any man's private life which is of concern to any one but himself.
The lady we are speaking of knows this, and makes her fortune by her
knowledge. The truth is that we all love a little plain-spokenness.
There is far too much praise about. Tell a fool that he is not a clever
man discreetly, and you flatter him; inform him that he is a brainless
ass, and he will kick you. But when you put a black cap on your head,
and take a wand in your hand, and charge a guinea for the spectacle, the
fool will hear of his folly cheerfully."
"Then the girl you mention is a mere vulgar fortune-teller," said I,
intervening for the first time. "It's astonishing how little difference
there is, when you come to reckon it up, between the tastes of a grand
dame and the tastes of her cook. The one goes in at the front door to
get her hand read for a guinea; the other goes out of the back to have
an equally plausible delineation for sixpence. Credulity does not know
any distinction of class; in the case I mention rank is represented by
one pound odd. Those of us who have no particular objection to spill
salt, shiver to see the new moon through glass. That man alone who tells
you frankly that he believes in all superstitions is free from the
blemish. But common fortune-telling, I confess, leaves me unmoved."
"If it began and ended in the mere vulgar allotment of tragedy and of
marriage, I should agree with you," said Bracebridge, speaking with
unusual seriousness; "but I am inclined to think that this is a case of
noteworthy cleverness, or at least of uncommon wit. The girl, possibly,
is a charlatan: but if one half said of her be true, she is the _best_
at the profession we have known. And after all, it's an achievement to
be _the_ best at some occupation, if it's only that of picking pockets."
"Speaking of that," said Oldfield, "I once knew a man in the '60th' who
was proud because a society paper described him as the finest idler in
Europe. That was a negative distinction of surpassing beauty, you must
admit. In the lady's case, however, there is something substantial to
praise. She can talk of things of which I would not attempt to spell
the name, with a fluency which is charming, if it is not accurate; she
has a room full of unreadable books; and I believe there are a dozen men
in town who will swear that she has made diamonds before their very
eyes. That should interest you, Sutton. A woman who is the possessor of
what she calls the 'alkahest' or universal solvent, is not to be
interviewed for a guinea every day. Besides, she might give you some
useful hints."
"And who knows," said Bracebridge, "what might come of it. I presume you
pay three pounds odd an ounce for the genuine metal to-day. Under
certain contingencies, you might get it for threepence, and a wife into
the bargain."
I listened to their banter with amusement for some minutes, and then cut
in a little seriously.
"I did not know," said I, "that physiognomy and alchemy usually ran well
in double harness, but I must take your word for it. Anything of this
sort is always amusing to a jeweler, though he is apt to get a little
too much of it. The last gold maker who came to me began by promising to
make a million in six months, and ended by wanting to borrow
half-a-crown. I've seen scores of that sort."
"You may laugh at her as much as you please," said Oldfield; "but of one
thing be assured. If I am any judge of precious stones at all, she can
make rubies, and good ones too. She cast one for me when I was last at
her place, and I offered her fifty pounds upon the spot for it. A quack
would have taken the money, but she refused it; you couldn't want any
better proof of her _bona fides_ than that."
"Pardon me," I interrupted, "but I can't accept the conclusion. Probably
the ruby you thought she made was the only one in the place. It was like
the stock knife of the Cheap Jack. You couldn't expect her to part with
it."
"Certainly I did. If she had made only one stone, I should have jumped
to your opinion; but she turned them out by the dozen. Most of them were
small; some were altogether too insignificant to notice. One only, as I
say, was substantial; and in explanation of that, she admitted her want
of control over the action of the crystals in the crucible. Sometimes
they will prove worth money; more often they are quite without value.
But she has hopes that the day will come when she will complete a
discovery which will astonish the universe."
"They all hope that," said I; "but the universe remains unmoved."
"And, of course, you don't believe a word of it," cried Bracebridge, as
he helped himself to salad. "Well, it's part of your business, I
suppose, to believe only in what you see, and not altogether in that.
But the Colonel's right about the girl, and I can second every word he
says. She made a piece of gold as big as your thumbnail before my very
eyes. There was no pretense or humbug about it; and I may tell you that
she'll only do this sort of thing for those she knows well. If you went
to her to-morrow, and said, 'I want to see your experiments,' she'd
laugh at you, and send you away feeling like a fool."
"And seriously," said I, beginning to experience a glimmer of interest,
"you believe that she has discovered something of importance?"
"Seriously I do; and if you went to her house you would swear by her for
the next month, possibly for two."