SEARCHING FOR THE DIAMONDS.
They went directly to Mrs. Tracy's room, where they found that lady in a
much higher fever of excitement than when she first discovered her loss.
All the household had assembled in the hall and in her room, except
Arthur, who sat in his library, occasionally stopping to listen to the
sound of the many voices, and to wonder why there was so much noise.
Tom was there with his friend, Fred Raymond, anxiously awaiting the
arrival of Harold, whose face wore a look of wonder and perplexity which
deepened into utter amazement as Mrs. Tracy angrily demanded of him what
his business was in the hall on Tuesday morning when she saw him
sneaking through the door.
"Where had you been, and did you see my diamonds? Somebody has stolen
them," she said, while Harold stared at her in utter astonishment.
"Somebody stolen your diamonds?" he repeated, without the shadow of an
idea that she could in any way connect him with a theft; nor would the
idea have come to him at all, if Tom had not said, with a sneer:
"Better own up, Hal, and restore the property. It is your easiest way
out of it."
Then he comprehended, and had Tom knocked him senseless the effect could
not have been greater. With lips as white as ashes, and fists tightly
clenched, he stood, shaking like a leaf, unable to speak until his eyes
fell upon Jerry, whose face was a study. She had thrown her head forward
and on one side, and was looking intently at Tom Tracy, while her blue
eyes flashed fire, and her whole attitude was like that of a tiger
ready to pounce upon its prey. And when Harold said faintly, "ask Jerry;
she knows," she did pounce upon Tom, not bodily, but with her tongue,
pouring out her words so rapidly, and mingling with them so much German
that it was almost impossible to understand all she said.
"You miserable, good for nothing, nasty fellow," she began. "Do you dare
accuse Harold of stealing! You, who are not fit to tie his shoes! And do
you want to know why he was here that morning? I can tell you; but no, I
won't tell _you_! I won't speak to you! I'll never speak to you again;
and if you try to kiss me as you did the other day, I'll--I'll scratch
out every single one of your eyes! _You_ twit Harold of being poor, and
call him a charity! What are you but a charity yourself, I'd like to
know. Is this your house? No, _sir_! It is Mr. Arthur's. Everything is
Mr. Arthur's, and if you don't quit being so mean to Harold, I'll tell
him every single nasty thing I know about you. Then see what he will
do!"
As Jerry warmed with her subject, every look, every gesture, and every
tone of her voice was like Arthur's, and Frank watched her with a
fascination which made him forget everything else, until she turned
suddenly to him, and in her own peculiar style and language told him why
Harold had come to the park house that morning when the diamonds were
missing.
"I advised him to come," she said, with the air of a grown woman, "and I
said I'd stand by him, and I will, forever and ever, amen!"
The words dropped from her lips the more naturally perhaps, because she
had used them once before with reference to the humiliated boy, to whose
pale, set face there came a smile as he heard them again, and stretching
out his hand he laid it on Jerry's head with a caressing motion which
told plainer than words could have done of his affection for and trust
in her.
What more Jerry might have said was prevented by the appearance of a new
actor upon the scene in the person of Arthur himself. He had borne the
noise and confusion as long as he could, and then had rung for Charles
to inquire what it meant. But Charles was too much absorbed with other
matters to heed the bell, though it rang three times sharply and
loudly. At last, as no one came, and the bustle outside grew louder, and
Jerry's voice was distinctly heard, excited and angry, Arthur started to
see for himself what had happened.
"Oh, Mr. Arthur," Jerry cried, as she caught sight of him coming down
the hall, "I was just going after you, to come and turn Tom out of
doors, and everybody else who says that Harold took Mrs. Tracy's
diamonds. She has lost them, and Tom----"
But here she was interrupted by Tom himself, who, always afraid of his
uncle, and now more afraid than ever because of the peculiar look in his
eyes, stammered out that he had not accused Harold, nor any one; that he
only knew the diamonds were gone and could not have gone without help.
"Do you mean those stones your mother flashed in my eyes last night?
Serves her right if she has lost them," Arthur said, without manifesting
the slightest interest or concern in the matter.
But when Jerry began her story, which she told rapidly in German, he
became excited at once, and his manner was that of a maniac, as he
turned fiercely upon Tom, denouncing him as a coward and a liar, and
threatening to turn him from the house if he dared harbor such a
suspicion against Harold Hastings.
"I'll turn you all into the street," he continued, "if you are not
careful, and bring Harold and Jerry here to live; then see if I can have
peace. Diamonds, indeed! Gretchen's diamonds, too! If they are lost,
search the house, but never accuse Harold again."
At this point Arthur wandered off into German, which no one present
could understand except Jerry, who stood, holding fast to his arm, her
face flushed and triumphant at Harold's victory and Tom's defeat; but as
the tirade in German went on, she started suddenly forward, and with
clasped hands and staring eyes stood confronting Arthur until he ceased
speaking, and with a wave of his hand signified that he was through and
his audience dismissed. Jerry, however, did not move, but stood
regarding him with a frightened, questioning expression on her face,
which was lost upon the spectators, who were too much interested in the
all-absorbing topic to notice any one particularly.
Tom was the first to go away, and his example was followed by all the
servants except Charles, who succeeded in getting his master back to his
room and quieting him somewhat, though he kept talking to himself of
diamonds, and Paris, and Gretchen, who, he said, should not be wronged.
"I am sorry this thing has happened. I have no idea that you know
anything of the matter. I would as soon suspect my own son," Frank said
to Harold, as he was leaving the house.
With this grain of comfort, the boy went slowly home, humiliated and cut
to the heart with the indignity put upon him; while Jerry walked
silently at his side until they were nearly home, when she said,
suddenly:
"I b'leve I know where the diamonds are." It was a habit of Jerry's to
know something about everything, and as Harold had no idea that she
could know anything of the diamonds, he scarcely noticed her remark,
which recurred to him years after when the diamonds came up to confront
him again.
It did not take long for the whole town to know of Mrs. Tracy's loss.
The papers were full of it. The neighbors talked of it constantly, and
two detectives were employed to work the matter up and discover the
thief, if possible. A thorough search was also made at the park house.
Every servant was examined and cross-examined, and all their trunks and
boxes searched; every nook and corner and room was gone through in the
most systematic order, even to Arthur's apartments. This last was merely
done as a matter of form, and to let the indignant servants see that no
partiality was shown the officers explained to Arthur, who at first
refused to let them in, but who finally opened the door himself, and
bade them go where they liked.
Half hidden among the cushions of the sofa from which Arthur had risen
when he let the officers in, and to which he returned again, was Jerry,
her face pale to her lips and her eyes like the eyes of some hunted
animal, when she saw the policemen cross the threshold.
After her return home the previous day she had been unusually taciturn
and had taken no part in the conversation relative to the missing
diamonds, but just before going to bed she said to Harold:
"What will they do with the one who took the diamonds, if they find
him?"
"Send him to State's prison," Harold answered.
"And what do they do to them in State's prison?" Jerry continued.
"Cut their hair off; make them eat bread and water and mush, and sleep
on a board, and work awful hard," was Harold's reply, given at random
and without the least suspicion why the question had been asked.
Jerry said no more, but the next morning she started for the park house,
which she knew was to be searched, and going to Mr. Arthur's room looked
him wistfully in the face as she asked in a whisper:
"Are they found?"
"Found! What found?" he said, as if all recollection of the missing
jewels had passed entirely from his mind.
"Mrs. Tracy's diamonds which you gave her," was Jerry's answer.
For a moment Arthur looked perplexed and bewildered and confused, and
seemed trying to recall something which would not come at his bidding.
"I don't know anything about it," he said at last. "I don't seem to
think of anything, my head is so thick with all the noise there was here
yesterday and the tumult this morning. Search-warrants, Charles says,
and two strange men driving up so early. Who are they, Jerry?"
"Police come to search everybody and everything. Ain't you afraid?"
Jerry said.
"Afraid? No; why should I be afraid? Why, child, how white you are, and
what makes you tremble so? You didn't take the diamonds," was Arthur's
response, as he drew the little girl close to him and looked into her
pallid face.
"Mr. Arthur," Jerry began, very low, as if afraid of being heard, "if I
should give Maude something for her own, and she should keep it a good
while, and then some day I should take it from her, when she did not
know it, and hide it, and not give it up, would that be stealing?"
"Certainly. Why do you ask?"
Jerry did not say why she asked, but put the same question to him she
had put to Harold:
"If they find the one who took the diamonds will they send him to
State's prison?"
"Undoubtedly. They ought to."
"And cut off his hair?"
She was threading Arthur's luxuriant locks caressingly, and almost
pityingly, with her fingers as she asked the last question, to which he
replied, shortly:
"Yes."
"And make him eat bread and water and mush?"
"Yes; I believe so."
"And sleep on a board?"
"Yes, or something as bad."
"And make him work awful hard until his hands are blistered?"
Now she had in hers Arthur's hands, soft and white as a woman's, and
seemed to be calculating how much hard work it would take to blister
hands like these.
"Yes, work till his hands drop off," Arthur said.
With a shudder, she continued:
"I could not bear it; could you?"
"Bear it? No; I should die in a week. Why, what does ail you? You are
shaking like a leaf. What are you afraid of?"
"I don't know; only State's prison seems so terrible, and they are
looking everywhere. What if they should come in here?"
"Come in here? Impossible, unless they break the door down," Arthur
replied; and then Jerry said to him:
"If they do, suppose you lie down and let me cover you with the afghan
and cushions?"
"But I don't want to lie down and be smothered with cushions," Arthur
returned, puzzled, and wondering at the excitement of the child, who
nestled close to his side, and held fast to his hand, as if she were
guarding him, or expected him to guard her, while the examination went
on outside, and the frightened and angry servants submitted to having
their boxes and trunks examined.
At last footsteps were heard on the stairs, and the sound of strange
voices, mingled with that of Frank, who was protesting against his
brother's rooms being entered.
"You will lose every servant you have if we do not serve all alike," was
the answer.
Then Frank knocked at his brother's door and asked admittance.
"We must do it to pacify the servants," he said, as Arthur refused,
bidding him go about his business.
After a little further expostulation Arthur arose, and, unlocking the
door, bade them enter and look as long as they pleased and where they
pleased.
It was a mere matter of form, for not a drawer or box was disturbed; but
Jerry's breath came in gasps, and her eyes were like saucers, as she
watched the men moving from place to place, and then looked timidly at
Arthur to see how he was taking it. He took it very coolly, and when it
was over and the men were about to leave, he bade them come again as
often as they liked; "they would always find him there ready to receive
them, but the diamonds--_nix_."
This last he said to Jerry, who, the moment they were alone and he had
seated himself beside her, put her head on his arm and burst into a
hysterical fit of crying.
"Why, Cherry, what is it? Why are you crying so?" he asked, in much
concern.
"Oh, I don't know," she sobbed; "only I was so scared all the time they
were in the room. What if they had found them! What if they should think
that--that--_I_ took them, and should send me to prison, and cut off my
hair, and make me eat bread and water and mush, which I hate!"
Arthur looked at her a moment, and then, with a view to comfort her,
said, laughingly:
"They would not send you to prison, for I would go in your stead."
"Would you? Could you? I mean, could somebody go for another somebody,
if they wanted to ever so much?" Jerry asked, eagerly, as she lifted her
tear-stained face to Arthur's.
Without clearly understanding her meaning, and with only a wish to quiet
her, Arthur answered, at random:
"Certainly. Have you never heard of people who gave their life for
another's? So, why not be a substitute, and go to prison, if
necessary?"
"Yes," Jerry answered, with a long-drawn breath, and the cloud lifted a
little from her face.
After a moment, however, she asked, abruptly:
"Suppose the one who took the diamonds will not give them up, and
somebody else knows where they are, ought that somebody else tell?"
"Certainly, or be an accessory to the crime," was Arthur's reply.
Jerry did not at all know what an accessory was, but it had an awful
sound to her, and she asked:
"What do they do to an accessory? Punish her--him, I mean--just the
same?"
"Yes, of course," Arthur said, never dreaming of the wild fancy which
had taken possession of her.
That one could go to prison in another's stead, and that an accessory
would be punished equally with the criminal, were the two ideas distinct
in her mind when she at last arose to go, saying to Arthur, as she stood
in the door:
"You are sure you are not afraid to have them come here again, if they
take it into their heads to do so?"
"Not in the least; they can search my rooms every day and welcome, if
they like," was Arthur's reply.
"Well, that beats me!" Jerry said aloud to herself, with a nod for every
word, as she went down the stairs and started for home, taking the Tramp
House on her way. "I guess I'll go in there and think about it," she
said, and entering the deserted building, she sat down upon the bench
and began to wonder if she _could do it_, if worst came to worst, as it
might.
"Yes, I could, for him, and I'll never tell; I'll be that thing he said,
and a substitute, too, if I can," she thought, "though I guess it would
kill me. Oh, I hope I sha'n't have to do it! I mean to say a prayer
about it, anyway."
And kneeling down in the damp, dark room, Jerry prayed first, that it
might never be found out, and second, that if it were she might not be
called to account as an accessory, but might have the courage to be the
substitute, and stand by him "forever and ever, amen!"
"I may as well begin to practice, and see if I can bear it," she
thought, as she walked slowly home, where she astonished Mrs. Crawford
by asking her to make some mush for dinner.
"Mush! Why, child, I thought you hated it," Mrs. Crawford exclaimed.
"I did hate it," Jerry replied, "but I want it now real bad. Make it for
me, please. Harold likes it, don't you, Hally?"
Harold did like it very much; and so the mush was made, and Jerry forced
herself to swallow it in great gulps, and made up her mind that she
could not stand that any way. She preferred bread and water. So, for
supper she took bread and water and nothing else, and went up to bed as
unhappy and nervous as a healthy, growing child well could be.
She had tried the mush, and the bread and water, and now she meant to
try the shorn head, which was the hardest of all, for she had a pride in
her hair, which so many had told her was beautiful.
Standing before her little glass, with the lamp beside her, she looked
at it admiringly for a while, turning her head from side to side to see
the bright ringlets glisten; then, with an unsteady hand she severed,
one by one, the shining tresses, on which her tears fell like rain as
she gathered them in a paper and put them away, wondering if the prison
shears would cut closer or shorter, and wondering if it would make any
difference that she was only a substitute, or at most an accessory.
It was a strange idea which had taken possession of her, and a senseless
one, but it was terribly real to her, and that little shorn head
represented as noble and complete a sacrifice as was ever made by older
and wiser people. There was no hard board to sleep upon, and so she took
the floor, with a pillow under her head and a blanket over her,
wondering the while if this were not a more luxurious couch than
convicts, who had stolen diamonds, were accustomed to have.
"Why, Jerry, what have you done?" and "Oh, Jerry, how you look!" were
the ejaculatory remarks which greeted her next morning, when she went
down to her breakfast of bread and water, for she would take nothing
else.
"Why did you do it?" Mrs. Crawford asked, a little angry and a good deal
astonished; but Jerry only answered at first with her tears, as Harold
jeered at her forlorn appearance and called her a picked chicken.
"Maude's hair is short, and all the girls', and mine was always in my
eyes and snarled awfully," she said at last, and this was all the excuse
she would give for what she had done: while for her persisting in a
bread and water diet she would give no reason for three or four days.
Then she said to Harold:
"You told me that the one who stole the diamonds would have to eat bread
and water and have his head shaved, and I am trying to see how it would
seem--am playing that I am the man, and in prison; but I find it very
hard. I don't believe I can stand it. I am so tired and hungry, and the
blackberry pie we had for dinner did look so good!"
She put her hands to her head, and looked so white and faint that Harold
was alarmed, and took her at once to his grandmother, who, scarcely less
frightened than himself, made her lie down, and brought her a piece of
toast and a cup of milk, which revived her a little. But the strain upon
her nerves for the last few days, and the fasting on bread and water
proved too much for the child, who, for a week or more lay up in her
little room, burning with fever, and talking at intervals, of diamonds,
and State's prison, and accessories, and substitutes.
Every day Arthur came and sat for an hour by her bed, and held her hot
hands in his, and listened to her talk, and wondered at her shorn head,
which he did not like. As he always talked to her in German, while she
answered in the same tongue, no one knew what they said to each other,
though Harold, who understood a few German words, knew that she was
talking of the diamonds, and the prison, and the substitute.
"I shall _never_ tell!" she said to Arthur: "and I shall go! I can bear
it better than you. It is not that which makes my head ache so.
It's--oh, Mr. Arthur, I thought you so good, and I am so sorry about the
diamonds--Mrs. Tracy was so proud of them. Can't you contrive to get
them back to her? I could, if you would let me. I am thinking all the
time how to do it, and never let her know, and the back of my head aches
so when I think."
Arthur could not guess what she meant, except that the lost diamonds
troubled her, and that she wished Mrs. Tracy to have them. Occasionally
his brows would knit together, and he seemed trying to recall something
which perplexed him, and which her words had evidently suggested to his
mind.
"Cherry," he said to her one day when he came as usual, and her first
eager question was, "Have they found them?" "Cherry, try and understand
me. Do you know who took the diamonds?"
Instantly into Jerry's eyes there came a scared look, but she answered,
unhesitatingly:
"Yes, don't you?"
"No," was the prompt reply; "though it seems to me I did know, but there
has been so much talk about them, and you are so sick, that everything
has gone from my head, and the bees are stinging me frightfully. Where
are the diamonds?"
But by this time Jerry was in the prison, sleeping on a board and eating
bread and mush, and Arthur failed to get any satisfaction from her.
Indeed, they were two crazy ones talking together, with little or no
meaning in what they said. Only this Arthur gathered--that Jerry would
be happy if Mrs. Tracy had her diamond's again and did not know how they
came to her. When this dawned upon him he laughed aloud, and kissing her
hot cheeks, said to her:
"I see; I know, and I'll do it. Wait till I come again."
It was ten o'clock in the morning when he left Mrs. Crawford's house;
there was a train which passed the station at half past ten, bound for
New York, and without returning to the park, Arthur took the train,
sending word to his brother not to expect him home until the next day,
and not to be alarmed on his account, as he was going to New York and
would take care of himself.
Why he had gone Frank could not guess, and he waited in much anxiety for
his return. It was evening when he came home seeming perfectly composed
and well, but giving no reason for his sudden journey to the city. His
first inquiry was for Jerry, and his second, if anything had been heard
of the diamonds. On being answered in the negative, he remarked:
"Those rascally detectives are bunglers, and often-times would rather
let the culprit escape than catch him. I doubt if you ever see the
jewels again. But no matter; it will all come right. Tell your wife not
to fret."
The next morning when Mrs. Tracy went to her room after breakfast she
was astonished to find upon her dressing bureau a velvet box with
Tiffany's name upon it, and inside an exquisite set of diamonds; not as
fine as those she had lost, or quite as large, but white, and clear, and
sparkling as she took them in her hand with a cry of delight, and ran to
her husband. Both knew from whom they came, and both went at once to
Arthur, who, to his sister-in-law's profuse expressions of gratitude,
replied indifferently:
"Don't bother me with thanks; it worries me. I bought them to please the
little girl, who talks about them all the time. She will get well now. I
am going to tell her."
Jerry was better and perfectly sane, and when she awoke that morning her
first rational question had been for Arthur, and her second for the
diamonds; were they found, and if not, were they still looking for them.
"No, they have not found them," Harold had said, "and the officers are
still hunting for the thief, while the papers are full of the reward
offered to any one who will return them. Five hundred dollars now, for
Mr. Arthur has added two hundred to the first sum. He has quite waked up
to the matter. You know he seemed very indifferent at first."
"Mr. Arthur offered two hundred more!" Jerry exclaimed. "Well, that
beats me! He must be crazy."
"Of course he is. He don't know what he does or says half the time, and
especially since you have been sick," Harold said.
"Sick!" Jerry repeated, quickly. "Have I been sick, and is that why I am
in bed so late? I thought you had come in to wake me up, and I was glad,
for I have had horrid dreams."
Harold told her how long she had been sick.
"And you've been crazy, too, as a loon," he continued, "and talked the
queerest things about State's prison, and hard boards, and bread and
water, and accessories, and substitutes, and so on. Mr. Arthur was here
every day, and sometimes twice a day, but he did not come yesterday at
all. There, hark! I do believe he is coming now. Don't you know who is
said to be near when you are talking about him?"
And, with a laugh, Harold left the room just as Arthur entered it.
"Well, Cherry," he said, "Mrs. Crawford tells me the bees are out of
your head this morning, and I am glad. I have some good news for you.
Mrs. Tracy has some diamonds, and is the happiest woman in town."
Jerry had not noticed his exact words, and only understood that Mrs.
Tracy had found her diamonds.
"Oh Mr. Arthur, I am so glad!" she cried; and springing up in bed, she
threw both arms around his neck and held him fast, while she sobbed
hysterically.
"There, there, child! Cherry, let go. You throttle me. You are pulling
my neck-tie all askew, and my head spins like a top," Arthur said, as he
unclasped the clinging arms and put the little girl back upon her
pillow, where she lay for a moment, pale and exhausted, with the light
of a great joy shining in her eyes.
"Did she know where they came from? How did you manage it? Are you sure
she did not suspect?" she asked.
"I put them on her dressing-bureau, while she was at breakfast," he
replied, "and when she came up there they were--large solitaire
ear-rings and a bar with five stones, not quite as large or as fine as
the ones she lost, but the best I could find at Tiffany's. Why, Jerry,
what is the matter? You do not look glad a bit. I thought you wanted me
to give them to her surreptitiously, and I did," he added, as the
expression of Jerry's face changed to one of dismay and disappointment.
"I did--I do," she said; "but I meant her very own--the ones you gave
her."
For a moment Arthur sat looking at her with a perplexed and troubled
expression, as if wondering what she could mean, and why he had so
utterly failed to please her; then he said, slowly:
"The ones I gave her? What do you mean? You make my head swim trying to
remember, and the bumble-bees are black-faced, instead of white, and
stinging me dreadfully. I wish you would say nothing more of the
diamonds. It worries me, and makes me feel as if I were in a nightmare,
and I know nothing of them."
Raising herself on her elbow and pointing her finger toward him in a
half beseeching, half threatening way, Jerry said:
"As true as you live and breathe, and hope not to be hung and choked to
death, don't you know where they are?"
This was the oath which Jerry's companions were in the habit of
administering to each other in matters of doubt, and she now put it to
Arthur as the strongest she knew.
"Of course not," he answered, with a little irritation in his tone.
"What ails you Cherry? Are you crazy, like myself? Struggle against it.
Don't let the bees get into your brain and swarm and buzz until you
forget everything which you ought to remember; and do things you ought
not to do. It is terrible to be crazy and half conscious of it all the
time--conscious that no one believes what you say or holds you
responsible for what you do."
"Don't they?" Jerry asked, eagerly, for she knew the meaning of the word
'responsible.' "If a crazy man or woman took the diamonds, and then
forgot, and did not tell, and it was ever found out, wouldn't they be
punished?"
"Certainly not," was the re-assuring reply. "Don't you know how many
murders are committed and the murderer is not hung, because they say he
is crazy?"
In a moment the cloud lifted from Jerry's face, which grew so bright
that Arthur noticed the change, and said to her:
"You are better now, I see, and I must go before I undo it all. Good-by,
and never say diamonds to me again; it gets me all in a--in a--well, a
French pickle--mixed, you know."
He kissed her, and, promising to take her for a drive as soon as she was
able, went out and left her alone, wondering why it was that his having
given the diamonds to his sister-in-law had failed in its effect upon
her, and upon himself, too.
For a long time after he was gone Jerry lay thinking with her eyes
closed, so that if Harold or her grandmother came in they would think
her asleep. Mr. Arthur was certainly crazy at times--very crazy. She
could swear to that, and so could many others. And if a crazy man was
not responsible for his acts, then he was not, and the law would not
touch him; but with regard to the accessory, she was not sure. If that
individual were not crazy, why, then he or she might be punished; and as
the taste she had had of bread and water, and hard boards in the shape
of the floor, was not very satisfactory, and as Mrs. Tracy had other
diamonds in the place of the lost ones, she finally determined to keep
her own counsel and never tell what she had heard Arthur say that
morning when the theft was discovered and he had talked so fast in
German to her and to himself. If she had known just where the diamonds
were she might have managed to return them to their owner. But she did
not, and her better course was to keep quiet, hoping that in time Mr.
Arthur himself would remember and make restitution; for that he had
forgotten and was sincere in saying that he knew nothing of them, she
was certain, and her faith in him, which for a little time had been
shaken, was restored.
With this load lifted from her mind Jerry's recovery was rapid, and when
the autumnal suns were just beginning to tinge the woodbine on the Tramp
House and the maples in the park woods with scarlet she took her
accustomed seat in Arthur's room and commenced her lessons again with
Maude, who had missed her sadly, and who would have gone to see her
every day during her sickness, if her mother had permitted it.