THE AMULET.
It is admitted that Man as a whole is not infallible, but each
individual man has a secret belief that he is. Haskins was no more
complacent than other mortals--in fact, less so--yet he had an idea
that his caution and common-sense invariably prevented his making
mistakes. Assuredly, as a rule, he was rarely in error, but to every
rule there is an exception, and Haskins' ill-judged frankness to Mrs.
Crosbie was the exception in this case. It said much for Gerald's sane
view of life that he recognized his mistake at once, and at the cost
of some unpleasantness hastened to correct it. This entailed an
interview with Major Rebb, which was likely to be a stormy one.
At the outset Gerald believed that he had read Mrs. Crosbie's
character all wrong, and that even after years of close
companionship--since she had been so intimate with his mother--he
knew very little about her. Had she really been that which he believed
her to be, she would--he thought immediately on leaving Ladysmith
Court--have readily helped him in his somewhat eccentric wooing. But
on calmer reflection he arrived at the conclusion that he, himself,
was in error.
His first mistake lay in overlooking the relationship existing between
Rebb and the widow. Being engaged to him--as she had admitted--she
certainly could not be expected to act against what she believed to be
his interests. And his second mistake consisted in hoping that Mrs.
Crosbie--who in many ways was particularly conventional--would take
charge of a girl believed to be insane. It was only natural that Mrs.
Crosbie should believe Mavis to be mad, as, being willing to accept
the Major as her second husband, she could scarcely credit him with
conspiracy. And if Mavis was not insane her detention in the Pixy's
House was certainly a conspiracy against her rights as a human being.
Gerald took this view from personal observation, and because he
mistrusted Rebb: but Mrs. Crosbie, as engaged to marry the Major,
could not be expected to endorse a theory which would render Rebb
unworthy of her hand, or indeed of her acquaintance.
It may be here mentioned that Haskins had not mentioned the wonderful
likeness which existed between Charity and Mavis, since the thought
had flashed across him, while speaking, that such a statement might
implicate Tod in the mysterious business, which was not to be thought
of. All Mrs. Crosbie practically knew was, that Gerald loved a
reputedly insane ward of her promised husband, and desired her to side
against that promised husband, so that he might marry the girl. It was
impossible to expect that any woman would act in this way, and Gerald
acknowledged to himself that Mrs. Crosbie had behaved in a perfectly
reasonable manner in refusing to help him.
In fact, she had behaved extremely well in holding to her promise of
one month's secrecy, for many a woman would have told Rebb there and
then what had been said about him. Therefore Mrs. Crosbie was not only
right, but Gerald felt that he was entirely in the wrong; felt,
indeed, that he had acted somewhat shabbily. The sole way in which he
could right matters, and recover his self-respect, was to see Rebb, as
soon as possible, and explain himself. Then, as man to man, they could
thresh the matter out. With this idea Haskins drove back to his rooms
in Frederick Street, Mayfair, intending to change and pack, and catch
the midnight train from Paddington to Exeter.
But, while dressing, he reflected that it would be better to first
assure himself that Mrs. Crosbie was correct in stating the Major's
whereabouts. Rebb's rooms were also in Frederick Street, and only a
few doors away, so it would be just as well to run in and to make
inquiries. Rebb might return on the morrow, in which case it would
hardly be worth while to journey to Denleigh so hurriedly. Also Mrs.
Crosbie having promised to hold her tongue for one month, there was no
necessity to act at once, since two or three, or even more, days would
make very little difference. Finally, Gerald was unwilling to return
to the Pixy's House and to Mavis until he knew if his theory regarding
a possible will was correct; otherwise he would have nothing to tell
her.
While meditating on the desirability of calling at Rebb's rooms,
Gerald desired to smoke to aid his thoughts after the manner of men.
He mechanically took his cigarette-case, but found some difficulty in
opening it. As his case was usually easy to open, he looked down with
awakened attention to see what was the matter, and found that he had
brought away Mrs. Crosbie's cigarette-case by mistake. Probably he had
laid his own case on the small table alongside hers--and in fact he
remembered doing so--and when departing had unconsciously taken the
one which did not belong to him. He resolved to return it at once by
post, but meanwhile took a cigarette therefrom to smoke, since there
were no others in his rooms. This entailed opening the case, and when
it was open a small object, which had been placed within, fell out.
This proved to be a tiny coral hand, clenched, and holding a dagger,
something like those amulets which are sold in Naples to avert the
evil eye. A little gold ring was screwed into the coral, so that the
trinket could be attached to a watch chain or to a bracelet. After a
careless glance, and a passing thought as to why Mrs. Crosbie should
use her cigarette-case as a jewel-box, Haskins placed the coral hand
on top of the cigarette-case, which he laid on the mantelpiece. Then
he lighted up and walked out, to seek the Major's rooms.
These, as has been said, were only a few doors distant, and Haskins
speedily arrived on the first floor of the somewhat dingy house
wherein they were situated. He found the door open, and a mild-looking
valet talking to a veiled woman with a graceful figure. While waiting
to address the man himself, Gerald heard him state to the lady that
his master had gone to Devonshire on the previous day and would be
back within four and twenty hours. The lady appeared annoyed, but
declined to leave a card, or to give any message. However, she stepped
aside, fuming--as Haskins guessed from the way in which she stamped
her foot and clenched her hands--and permitted him to speak. Gerald
asked the same question, as to the Major's whereabouts, and received
the same answer, upon which he produced his card.
"Tell Major Rebb, when he returns, that Mr. Haskins wishes to see him
on a private matter. Mr. Gerald Haskins," added the young man, handing
the card. Then he turned away, wondering why the veiled woman should
utter a muffled exclamation of surprise when she heard the Christian
name.
But his wonder was still further increased when, on descending the
stairs, he felt his arm grasped, and found that the strange lady was
at his elbow. "You are Mr. Gerald?" she said in deep contralto tones,
"may I call you--Prince Gerald?"
Haskins started. It was in this way that Mavis addressed him. But this
woman could not be Mavis, for she was too thin and too tall, and her
voice was too worn. Could she be---- "Bellaria!" he said tentatively.
"Bellaria," assented the woman softly--they were standing on the
pavement by this time. "Take me somewhere safe. I wish to speak with
you."
"My rooms are close at hand," said Haskins promptly, and wondering at
this unexpected encounter with one whom he had believed to be miles
away. "We can go there at once, Bell----"
"Hush!" she clutched his arm again, and looked over her shoulder, as
she had looked when in the quadrangle. "Don't say that name here. They
may hear--they may hear."
"Who may hear?"
"Never mind; never mind. Come inside; come inside. Oh, Dio! no mention
of my name," and she hurried into the doorway indicated by Gerald.
In a few minutes they were in Haskins' sitting-room, and here again
Bellaria's nervousness betrayed itself.
"There is no one can hear us?" she asked, her veil up, and her eyes
roving round the room.
"No, no," replied the young man soothingly. "The man and his wife who
attend to me in these chambers are below. You can talk freely. By the
way," he asked abruptly, "how did you know my name?"
Bellaria, looking more aged and haggard than ever, flung herself into
an armchair, and laughed uncomfortably. "Prince Gerald. Who calls you
Prince Gerald, Mr. Haskins?"
"Mavis does, but----"
"Then it is true, what she confessed to me: that you love her and she
loves you?"
"Quite true," rejoined Haskins quickly. "We met by chance, and----"
"By chance!" repeated Bellaria scornfully. "When you deliberately came
where you had no business to come. I know all!"
"How did you find out?" Gerald was perfectly calm when he asked this
question, as she did not seem to be hostile.
"I saw that Mavis was not herself, that she was disturbed, and guessed
that she was keeping something secret from me. I watched, and saw her
lead a man across the quadrangle. When she came in that night I told
her what I had seen, and so--she confessed about the sealed message,
and about her secret meetings with you. Also that you desired to marry
her. Fool!" cried Bellaria pointing a scornful finger at her host,
"would you marry a madwoman?"
"Not in making Mavis Durham my wife," said Haskins coolly. "She is
perfectly sane."
"And I--Bellaria Dondi--say that she is not."
"Are you sane yourself?" asked Haskins, turning the tables on her.
The woman reared herself in her chair, gripping the arms, and directed
a fierce gaze at him. "What do you mean?" she demanded.
"Why did you not come out and face me when Mavis talked with me in the
garden?" he remarked, meeting her gaze firmly and fairly.
"Because--because---- Oh, there is no explanation."
"I think there is. You dare not venture out after dark, so you waited
until Mavis entered the house to question her."
"How do you know that I dare not venture out after dark?" she asked,
and her figure seemed to dwindle and shrink.
"Mavis told me."
"Mavis knows nothing, nothing, do you hear? God forbid that she should
ever know anything. But my business is my own business, and has
nothing to do with you, Prince Gerald. Mavis is crazy: she would kill
you as soon as look at you, at certain times."
"I don't believe that for one moment."
"You must--you shall! If Mavis is not mad, why should her guardian
shut her up in a lonely house?"
"That," said Gerald very dryly, "is what I went to Major Rebb's rooms
to ask when I met you."
Bellaria arose, much astonished. "You will dare to face the Major?"
Haskins laughed. "Do you take me for a schoolgirl? Of course I shall
face the Major, and a dozen like him if necessary."
"You are a brave man."
"And Major Rebb? What is he?"
"The kindest and best friend that a miserable woman ever had,"
retorted the woman fiercely, "not a word against the Major. I won't
hear a word, I tell you. What he does is right."
"Not in shutting up Mavis."
"She is mad, I tell you; mad and dangerous." Bellaria came close to
where Gerald was sitting and looked down into his face with a
determined expression. "On learning what I did learn from Mavis I came
up at once to tell Major Rebb, so that he might stop it."
"I fear Major Rebb will find it somewhat difficult to stop it. He is
not the Ruler of the Earth, so far as I know."
"He is my ruler," cried Bellaria grandiloquently.
"So I should think, when the mere wish to give him information makes
you risk----"
"Risk what? Risk what?" she demanded, quivering.
Haskins shrugged his square shoulders. "Your life, for all I know."
She stood looking at him with clenched hands, the expression on her
worn face hovering between terror and defiance. "You talk of what you
do not understand," she said, breathing hard.
"Quite right: but I should like to understand."
"Understand what?"
"Why Bellaria Dondi, who was a famous singer, should bury herself in a
lonely Devonshire house, to keep a sane girl prisoner."
"You have been listening!" she cried out in terror. "How do you know
that I was a singer?"
"I heard you sing the Shadow Song from _Dinorah_ during one of my
visits; and, when hidden behind the beech-tree near the wall, I heard
you say that you had been a great singer."
Bellaria covered her face with two thin hands, and the tears fell
through her fingers. "I was great! I was famous!" she sobbed. "I was
happy until jealousy undid me. But," she let her hands drop and flung
back her queenly head, "I only did what any Italian woman would have
done. He betrayed me, why should I not betray him?"
"Major Rebb?"
"No! Enrico Salviati, who swore that he loved me, yet left me for
another. But I punished him. He died, and perhaps I shall die as he
did, for all my care. They will find me, and then----Oh, what agonies
I have suffered for many, many years! This face," she struck it, "was
handsome. Enrico loved it. These lips--Enrico kissed them--with the
kiss of Judas. And what better am I? What better am I?" She rushed to
the mirror over the mantelpiece to address herself. "Bellaria Dondi,
you can hide in the depths of the sea, but they will find you. You
can----Augh!" her eyes fell on the silver cigarette-case of Mrs.
Crosbie, upon which lay, delicately, the clenched coral hand with the
dagger. "Augh!" she repeated, and staggered back.
"What is the matter?" Gerald rose and came forward.
Bellaria repelled him with both hands, shaking with dread. "Keep back,
you English spy! You have brought me here! You are one of them. But if
you use the knife I shall scream. Keep back! Keep back!"
"I don't understand," gasped Haskins, amazed at this outburst.
"The hand, the sign, the token of death!" she groaned, then, keeping
her terrified eyes on Gerald, stole stealthily to the door. "Tána! ahi
Tána. Lasso me: si davvéro. Tána! Tána!" uttering these words rapidly,
and almost in a scream, she made the sign of the cross on her breast
and vanished. By the time that Haskins, in pursuit, had reached the
top of the stairs she was at the foot. A moment later and she ran
swiftly in to the street, holding her veil closely over her pallid
face.
"What the deuce does it mean?" Gerald asked himself, as he returned to
his sitting-room, and examined the coral hand. "This thing seems to
have terrified her almost to death. 'Tána! Tána!' Humph! I must learn
what that means. It is an Italian word, I expect. Now what"----He went
on musing on the strange behavior of Signora Dondi, much perplexed,
and did not notice that a lady was standing in the doorway. Her cough
made him look round, and so unnerved was Haskins by his late
experience that he fairly jumped.
"Mrs. Berch!" he said, recognizing the lady at once. "I apologize for
not seeing you."
"I apologize also," said Mrs. Berch; in the stern voice habitual to
her--"apologize that is, for entering unannounced. But the door was
open, Gerald, so I took the privilege of old friendship and entered."
"Delighted to see you, Mrs. Berch," said Haskins, wondering why she
had come, "won't you sit down?"
"For one minute," and she took a chair.
Mrs. Berch was a tall, thin woman, with a worn, white face, and hair
as black as her eyes, notwithstanding her age, which was over sixty.
She was dressed in some lustreless, dark material without any
trimming, and carried herself very erect. In fact there was something
of the Roman matron about her, so stern and proud did she appear.
Gerald liked her, as she had always been kind to him. But Mrs. Berch
was something of an enigma to him. He could not understand why so bold
and determined a woman should have submitted to the brutality of her
late husband. Yet Mrs. Crosbie's father had behaved like a demon to
his wife, as Gerald had learned from his mother. She adored her
daughter, and--as the saying is--lived again in her child.
"You wonder why I have called," said Mrs. Berch, in an unemotional
voice, which always reminded Haskins of one talking in sleep,
"especially when I was lying down with a headache when you came. But
Madge asked me to bring you this," and she produced Gerald's
cigarette-case.
"Thank you. I left it behind by mistake and took Madge's. Here it is."
Mrs. Berch arose and received the dainty trifle. "That is all I called
about, Gerald. I shall take it back to Madge at once. She was much
disturbed at losing it."
"I don't know why she should have been," said Haskins; "she must have
guessed that I had taken it, and would send it back. Oh, by the way,
you may as well put this into it. I opened the case for a cigarette
and found this. It fell out," and he passed along the coral hand.
Mrs. Berch's dead-white face flushed, and her black eyes glittered. "I
am glad that is not lost," she said eagerly. "It was this that Madge
was anxious about."
"What is it?"
"Some ornament to which Madge attaches some value, I fancy."
"H'm. Is it the badge of any society?"
Mrs. Berch's flush face faded to a chalky-white. "Why do you ask?"
Gerald asked a question in his turn. "Did Madge tell you what I came
to see her about?"
"No. Madge never betrays anyone's confidence. But I heard your story."
"You heard it!" Haskins stepped back a pace in his astonishment.
"Yes!" said Mrs. Berch coldly, and slipping the case along with the
coral hand into her pocket. "I was asleep on the sofa in the other
room, which is, as you know, divided from the drawing-room by
curtains. I woke to hear what you said about that girl and Major Rebb.
In the interests of my daughter I listened."
"And you intend to tell Major Rebb?"
"No. Madge asked me to hold my tongue. And indeed, Gerald, I would do
so for your own sake. Major Rebb is an ill man to meddle with."
Haskins threw back his head defiantly. "I am not afraid of Rebb," he
said, in a haughty tone. "I went to see him to-day to explain myself,
but he is in Devonshire: gone to see his unfortunate ward, I expect.
When he returns I shall demand an explanation."
"He may not give it to you," said Mrs. Berch, pursing up her mouth.
"He must. I love Mavis and I intend to marry her."
"But if she is mad----"
"She is not mad, and----Well, Mrs. Berch, there is no use in my
talking to you on the matter. I did wrong to speak to Madge about it,
since she is to marry Major Rebb."
"Madge will hold her tongue as she promised, and so shall I, Gerald."
"Thank you both," replied Gerald courteously, "but there will be no
need after to-morrow. I intend to see Rebb, as I said."
"To learn what?"
"To learn," said Haskins, "why he shuts up his ward, seeing that she
is not, in my opinion, insane. Also to learn why Bellaria, who watches
Mavis, buries herself in the Pixy's House."
"I heard you talk of the woman," said Mrs. Berch, in her chilliest
manner, "and I presume that Bellaria stops in the Pixy's House because
she is Major Rebb's servant."
"There is more in it than that. Bellaria came to see Major Rebb this
very day, and came also here to me, since she knows that I have
visited Mavis. Bellaria is terrified out of her life because of some
people who seek her life. When she saw that coral hand, which was
lying by chance on the mantelpiece, she rushed away, accusing me of
being in league with some society to kill her. At least, that was what
I gathered from what she said. But it was sheer raving."
"I think so, indeed," said Mrs. Berch quietly, "this coral hand is
merely an ornament, given by Signor Venosta, whom you met to-day, to
Madge. It means nothing, Gerald, so think no more about it."
But when she departed Gerald _did_ think, and it was little wonder
that he did so.