"Lady Teigne's diamonds!" exclaimed Claire.
"Nonsense, my dear!" said Mrs Barclay. "They're not. Now don't you
get letting your poor head run upon them. Whoever did that dreadful
deed took them up to London, and sold 'em, or sent 'em to Amsterdam."
"But they are," cried Claire, growing more excited. "I am sure of it.
I know them so well."
As she spoke she seized the jewels, and turned them over and over with
feverish haste, her face convulsed with horror.
"Nonsense, nonsense, my dear child," said Mrs Barclay.
"It is very curious," said Cora, looking at the ornaments eagerly. "I
seem to have seen them before."
"Some like 'em, my dear. Lots of 'em are made and sold."
"Mrs Barclay, I know those are Lady Teigne's diamonds," cried Claire
again.
"And I know they are not, my dear child. I'll tell you why: they're not
diamonds at all, only some fairish imitations--paste--that my Jo-si-ah
bought."
"No, no," persisted Claire; "they are valuable diamonds."
"Well, my dear, I'm not a clever woman at all; but I've had so much to
do with precious stones that I can't help telling 'em directly. There's
nothing valu'ble about them but the silver setting, and if you melt that
down there isn't ten pounds' worth in the lot."
"Mrs Barclay--"
"Ah, I'm right, my dear. Those aren't diamonds, but paste; and I
remember Josiah saying when I laughed at him, and asked him if he had
been taken in--I remember him saying that they were a good-looking lot,
and he should keep 'em to let on hire to some lively lady who wanted a
suite, and whom he didn't care to trust with diamonds. There, now, are
you satisfied?"
"No," cried Claire. "I am certain that I am right. That cross! I know
it so well. I've had it in my hands a hundred times. Those bracelets,
too. I have often clasped them on Lady Teigne's wrists."
"And put that ornament in her hair, and the other thing round her neck?"
said Mrs Barclay, smiling.
"Yes, often; so often," cried Claire. "Oh, tell me what this means. Of
whom did you buy them?"
"Well, that I can't say, my dear; but I'm going to show you that you are
wrong," said Mrs Barclay, laughing and showing her white teeth. "Now
look here," she continued, as she took up the necklet, and then,
crossing to the safe, she picked out an old morocco case, which she laid
upon the table. "Open that, my dear," she continued, turning to Cora.
"There's a necklet in there very much like this."
Cora pressed the snap spring, and, in obedience to a nod from Mrs
Barclay, took out a brilliant necklet and laid it upon the table.
"There, my dears," cried the plump little woman; "those are diamonds!
Look at them. Those are brilliants. Look at the fire in them; and now
lay these beside them. Where's the fire and bright colours? They'd
light up and look shiny by candle-light; but, though they'd deceive some
folks, they wouldn't cheat me. My Jo-si-ah has shown me the difference
too often. There, then, take my word for it, and let's put them away."
"No, no," cried Claire wildly. "I feel as if I have found out something
that might clear up a mystery. I dread to inquire further, but I feel
as if I must. Mrs Barclay--dear Mrs Barclay--it seems shocking to
contradict you so flatly; but you are wrong--I am sure you are wrong.
Those are indeed Lady Teigne's diamonds."
"Now, bless us and save us, my dear, dear child, look here," cried Mrs
Barclay, taking up the two necklets, one in each hand, and breathing
upon them. "I know these things by heart, my dear. My Jo-si-ah has
taught me; and a fine lot of trouble he had, for I'm a stupid old woman.
Now look there."
She breathed on a couple of the largest stones again, and held them out
in the light.
"Now see how the breath goes off them, my dears. See the difference?
Those are brilliants. These that you say are Lady Teigne's diamonds are
only paste--paste or glass, as the Italians call it. They make lots of
'em very cleverly, and they're shiny and bright, but they are not
precious stones. Now then, are you satisfied? Shall I put 'em all
away, and ring for tea?"
"No," said Claire, trembling; "I am not satisfied; and though I feel as
if I were going to find out something horrible, I must--I must go on."
"Well--well--well, then, my dear, so you shall go on. I'll do anything
to humour you, and try and make you a bit happier. Now, then, what's to
be done? Let me warn you, though, that I'm right, and those are not
diamonds at all, only bits of glass, with some tinfoil behind to make
'em shine."
Claire eagerly examined the jewels again one by one.
"Yes--see--both of you," she cried excitedly; "there is the tiny slip of
card I put under that snap, because the spring had grown so weak; and
there should be a little scratch and a chip in one of the big diamonds
in the tiara. No--no--I can't see it," she said hurriedly.
"A scratch and a chip on a diamond!" said Mrs Barclay, smiling. "Oh,
my dear, my dear!"
"Yes. There are the marks," cried Claire excitedly. "Look, both of
you, look!"
"Well, so they are, my dear," acquiesced Mrs Barclay. "Well, that is
strange! But that don't make 'em diamonds, you know. It only proves
what I said--that they are paste."
"They were Lady Teigne's jewels," cried Claire; "and I always believed
them to be diamonds."
"Well," cried Mrs Barclay, "and some one killed that poor old creature
for the sake of getting a few bits of paste. Ugh!"
She threw down the necklet she held with a look of disgust. "If I'd ha'
known I wouldn't ha' touched 'em. My Jo-si-ah couldn't ha' known, or he
wouldn't ha' bought 'em. This must be cleared up."
She went toward the bell, but Claire followed and caught her arm.
"What are you going to do?" she said, with an ashy face.
"Ring and ask my Jo-si-ah to come up and talk this over. We don't deal
in stolen goods."
"No; don't, don't."
"But we must find out where he bought the things."
"No, no! I couldn't bear to know," faltered Claire. "No, Mrs Barclay,
pray don't ask."
"Oh, my poor darling! Catch her, Cora, my dear," cried Mrs Barclay, as
Claire staggered back, half fainting, and was helped to the sofa, and
fanned and recovered with smelling-salts.
She was just getting rid of the deadly hue when the door opened, and
Barclay came in with a bluff "How do, ladies? Why, hallo! what's the
matter?"
"Hush! she's coming round," said Mrs Barclay.
"That's better. Why, what are you doing with these things?"
"I had them out, dear, to check off and brush a little. Claire was
helping me."
"Mr Barclay," said Claire, rising, and taking a step or two to the
table, and speaking with a forced decision that startled her hearers, "I
must speak. I must know. Tell me--"
She faltered, and pressed her hands to her brow, shivering and turning
ghastly pale again.
"Oh, my dear!" cried Mrs Barclay; "she's going to faint!"
"No, no," said Claire, in a weak voice. "Don't touch me. I must
speak--I must know. Mr Barclay," she cried, picking up the jewels,
"where did you get these diamonds?"
"These, my dear?" said the money-lender, taking them from her. "Not
diamonds at all--paste."
"There!" cried Mrs Barclay triumphantly.
"But where--where did you get them? Pray, pray speak. It is agony,
this suspense."
"Get them, my dear? Don't take it like that. Why, what's the matter?"
"She says--" began Mrs Barclay.
"They are Lady Teigne's jewels," cried Claire. "Tell me, how came you
by them?"
"Bought 'em, my dear, of Fisherman Dick--Miggles, you know; him as your
brother Morton went fishing with."
"Yes," cried Cora. "I remember now, he brought them to us. He said he
dredged them up in his shrimp net off the end of the pier."
"That's what he told me too, I remember," said Barclay.
"And he thought they were mine," said Cora. "He brought them with the
carriage clock and my bag, but, of course, they were not mine."
Fisherman Dick--her brother--dredged up off the end of the pier! It was
no elucidation of the mystery, Claire felt, as she stood there
trembling.
"Lady Teigne's jewels?" said Barclay, turning them over, and speaking in
his blunt way. "Then whoever killed the poor old woman found out that
these things were good for nothing, and threw them into the sea."
"Oh, my dear, my dear!" sighed Mrs Barclay. "Don't, pray don't faint."
Poor Claire did not hear her, for as she realised that here was perhaps
a fresh link of evidence against her father, a link whose fitting she
did not see, her brain reeled and she would have fallen had not Cora
been close at hand.
"Can I do anything?" said Barclay in his abrupt way.
"Yes," cried Mrs Barclay sharply. "Go. Can't you see we must cut her
laces?"
"Humph!" ejaculated Barclay thoughtfully; "Lady Teigne's jewels! I
never thought of that. No wonder. It was diamonds missing--not paste
thrown off the pier."
He shook his head as he reached the door, and stood with the handle in
his hand.
"Fisherman Dick, eh? Well, I'll go and see what he has to say."
Volume Three, Chapter XXV.