"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 cannot 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 any one of them."
I assured her that I sympathised 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 before the
coachman left the box."
"Who did this overhauling?"
"My son. He would not trust any one else 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 even 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
parlours, 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 scrutinised 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 before I spoke to Mr. Deane.
"That will give Mr. Deane time to compose himself. 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
beckoned to him, and in another moment we were standing together in one
of the empty parlours. I gave him my name and told him my business. Then
I said:
"Your mother has allotted me an hour in which to find the valuable jewel
which has just been lost on these premises." Here I smiled. "She
evidently has great confidence in my ability. I must see that I do not
disappoint her."
All this time I was examining his face. It was not only handsome, but
expressive of great candour. The eyes looked straight into mine, and,
while showing anxiety, betrayed no deeper emotion than the occasion
naturally called for.
"Have you any suggestions to offer? I understand that you were on the
ground almost as soon as Mr. Deane discovered his loss."
His eyes changed a trifle, but did not swerve. Of course, he had been
informed by his mother of the suspicious action of the young lady who
had been a member of that gentleman's party, and shrank, as any one in
his position would, from the responsibilities entailed by this
knowledge.
"No," said he. "We have done all we can. The next move must come from
you."
"I know of one that will settle the matter at once," I assured him,
still with my eyes fixed scrutinisingly on his face--"a universal
search, not of places, but of persons. But it is a harsh measure."
"A most disagreeable one," he emphasised, flushing. "Such an indignity
offered to guests would never be forgotten or forgiven."
"True. But if they offered to submit to this themselves?"
"They? How?"
"If _you_, the son of the house--their host, we may say--should call
them together, and for your own satisfaction empty out your pockets in
the sight of every one, don't you think that all the men, and possibly
all the women too"--here I let my voice fall suggestively--"would be
glad to follow suit? It could be done in apparent joke."
He shook his head with a straightforward air, which set him high in my
estimation.
"That would call for little but effrontery on my part," said he. "But
think how it would affect these boys who came here for the sole purpose
of enjoying themselves. I will not so much as mention the ladies."
"Yet one of the latter----"
"I know," he quietly acknowledged, growing restless for the first time.
I withdrew my eyes from his face. I had learned what I wished.
Personally, he did not shrink from search, therefore the jewel was not
in his pockets. This left but two persons for suspicion to halt between.
But I disclosed nothing of my thoughts; I merely asked pardon for a
suggestion that, while pardonable in a man accustomed to handle crime
with ungloved hands, could not fail to prove offensive to a gentleman
like himself.
"We must move by means less open," I concluded. "It adds to our
difficulties, but that cannot be helped. I should now like a glimpse of
Mr. Deane."
"Do you not wish to speak to him?"
"I should prefer a sight of his face first."
He led me across the hall and pointed through an open door. In the
centre of a small room containing a table and some chairs I perceived a
young man sitting, with fallen head and dejected air, staring at
vacancy. By his side, with hand laid on his, knelt a young girl,
striving in this gentle but speechless way to comfort him. It made a
pathetic picture. I drew Ashley away.
"I am disposed to believe in that young man," said I. "If he still has
the jewel, he would not try to carry off the situation just this way. He
really looks broken-hearted."
"Oh, he is dreadfully cut up! If you could have seen how frantically he
searched for the stone, and the depression into which he fell when he
realised that it was not to be found, you would not doubt him for an
instant. What made you think he might still have the ruby?"
"Oh, we police-officers think of everything. Then the fact that he
insists that something or some one touched his breast on the driveway
strikes me as a trifle suspicious. Your mother says that no second
person could have been there, or the snow would have given evidence of
it."
"Yes; I looked expressly. Of course, the drive itself was full of
hoof-marks and wheel-tracks, for several carriages had already passed
over it. Then there were all of Deane's footsteps, but no other man's,
so far as I could see."
"Yet he insists that he was touched or struck."
"Yes."
"With no one there to touch or strike him."
Mr. Ashley was silent.
"Let us step out and take a view of the place," I suggested. "I should
prefer doing this to questioning the young man in his present state of
mind." Then, as we turned to put on our coats, I asked with suitable
precautions: "Do you suppose that he has the same secret suspicions as
ourselves, and that it is to hide these he insists upon the jewel's
having been taken away from him at a point the ladies are known not to
have approached?"
Young Ashley looked more startled than pleased.
"Nothing has been said to him of what Miss Peters saw Miss Glover do. I
could not bring myself to mention it. I have not even allowed myself to
believe----"
Here a fierce gust, blowing in from the door he had just opened, cut
short his words, and neither of us spoke again till we stood on the
exact spot in the driveway where the episode we were endeavouring to
understand had taken place.
"Oh," I cried, as soon as I could look about me; "the mystery is
explained. Look at that bush, or perhaps you call it a shrub. If the
wind were blowing as freshly as it is now, and very probably it was, one
of those slender branches might easily be switched against his breast,
especially if he stood, as you say he did, close against this border."
"Well, I'm a fool. Only the other day I told the gardener that these
branches would need trimming in the spring, and yet I never so much as
thought of them when Mr. Deane spoke of something striking his breast."
As we turned back I made this remark:
"With this explanation of the one doubtful point in his otherwise
plausible account, we can credit his story as being in the main true,
which," I calmly added, "places him above suspicion and narrows our
inquiry down to _one_."
We had moved quickly, and were now at the threshold of the door by which
we had come out.
"Mr. Ashley," I continued, "I shall have to ask you to add to your
former favours that of showing me the young lady in whom, from this
moment on, we are especially interested. If you can manage to let me
see her first without her seeing me, I shall be infinitely obliged to
you."
"I do not know where she is. I shall have to search for her."
"I will wait by the hall door."
In a few minutes he returned to me.
"Come," said he, and led me into what I judged to be the library.
With a gesture towards one of the windows, he backed quickly out,
leaving me to face the situation alone. I was rather glad of this.
Glancing in the direction he had indicated, and perceiving the figure of
a young lady standing with her back to me on the farther side of a
flowing lace curtain, I took a few steps toward her, hoping that the
movement would cause her to turn. But it entirely failed to produce this
effect, nor did she give any sign that she noted the intrusion. This
prevented me from catching the glimpse of her face which I so desired,
and obliged me to confine myself to a study of her dress and attitude.
The former was very elegant, more elegant than the appearance of her two
friends had led me to expect. Though I am far from being an authority on
feminine toilets, I yet had experience enough to know that such a gown
represented not only the best efforts of the dressmaker's art, but very
considerable means on the part of the woman wearing it.
This was a discovery which instantly altered the complexion of my
thoughts; for I had presupposed her a girl of humble means, willing to
sacrifice certain scruples to obtain a little extra money. This
imposing figure might be that of a millionaire's daughter; how, then,
could I associate her, even in my own mind, with theft? I decided that I
must see her face before giving answer to these doubts.
She did not seem inclined to turn. She had raised the shade from before
the wintry panes and was engaged in looking out. Her attitude was not
that of one simply enjoying a moment's respite from the dance. It was
rather that of an absorbed mind brooding upon what gave little or no
pleasure; and as I further gazed and noted the droop of her lovely
shoulders and the languor visible in her whole bearing, I saw that a
full glimpse of her features was imperative. Moving forward, I came upon
her suddenly.
"Excuse me, Miss Smith," I boldly exclaimed; then paused, for she had
turned instinctively, and I had seen that for which I had risked this
daring move. "Your pardon," I hastily apologised. "I mistook you for
another young lady," and drew back with a low bow to let her pass, for I
saw that her mind was bent on escape.
And I did not wonder at this, for her eyes were streaming with tears,
and her face, which was doubtless a pretty one under ordinary
conditions, looked so distorted with distracting emotions that she was
no fit subject for any man's eye, let alone that of a hard-hearted
officer of the law on the lookout for the guilty hand which had just
appropriated a jewel worth anywhere from eight to ten thousand dollars.
Yet I was glad to see her weep, for only first offenders weep, and first
offenders are amenable to influence, especially if they have been led
into wrong by impulse, and are weak rather than wicked.
Anxious to make no blunder, I resolved, before proceeding further, to
learn what I could of the character and antecedents of the suspected
one, and this from the only source which offered--Mr. Deane's affianced.
This young lady was a delicate girl, with a face like a flower.
Recognising her sensitive nature, I approached her with the utmost
gentleness. Not seeking to disguise either the nature of my business or
my reasons for being in the house, since all this gave me authority, I
modulated my tone to suit her gentle spirit, and, above all, I showed
the utmost sympathy for her lover, whose rights in the reward had been
taken from him as certainly as the jewel had been taken from Mrs.
Burton. In this way I gained her confidence, and she was quite ready to
listen when I observed:
"There is a young lady here who seems to be in a state of even greater
trouble than Mr. Deane. Why is this? You brought her here. Is her
sympathy with Mr. Deane so great as to cause her to weep over his loss?"
"Frances? Oh no. She likes Mr. Deane and she likes me, but not well
enough to cry over our misfortunes. I think she has some trouble of her
own."
"One that you can tell me?"
Her surprise was manifest.
"Why do you ask that? What interest can a police-officer, called in, as
I understand, to recover a stolen jewel, have in Frances Glover's
personal difficulties?"