This (as nearly as I can recollect it) is the story told me by my friend
Tom Gainsborough, as we sat over a decanter of claret after one of his
inimitable little dinners. When it was over I gave a grunt, and flung
the but-end of my cigar into the grate.
"There's one thing I don't understand about this story," I then
remarked; "and it has misled me all along. Your description of
that creature, Kate--her eyes and eyebrows, complexion, hands, and
nationality--all persuaded me it was the present Mrs. Gainsborough.
Yet it appears she was nothing of the sort!"
"I should think not, indeed!" exclaimed Tom, laughing. "They are as
different, even in appearance, as two straight-browed brunettes could
possibly be. It is not my fault if you were misled by a description--you
who know so well how incurably vague the best descriptions are. Were you
to see them side by side, you would acknowledge that they are as little
alike as you and I are. As to the American part of it--the truth is they
were not really Americans at all: Birchmore and the girl were French;
and I in my ignorance mistook their French accent for the Yankee twang.
When, several years later, I met some real Americans--and married one of
them--I realised my error."
"Humph! Well, I daresay you were not more stupid than the majority of
your countrymen would have been in your place. But another thing--was
all that mesmeric business genuine, or a part of the conspiracy?"
"Conspiracy, of course! It was the stock expedient of the gang--and a
very ingenious one, I think; for of course the mesmerised one might turn
up anywhere, and if she were not discovered, well and good; while if she
were, all she had to say was that she was in a mesmeric trance. As it
happened, the latter alternative occurred in both their attempts on me;
but I give the girl credit for turning it off excellently well. In fact,
she took a real artistic interest in her business. You see, she had been
trained as a rope-dancer in her childhood, and afterwards she was on
the stage for a time. She certainly had marvellous dramatic talent, and
thoroughly enjoyed "taking a part." The realistic element that entered
into her performances no doubt rendered them much more exciting than
ordinary stage work, and perhaps, sometimes, she almost deceived
herself."
"Ah! I should not wonder. Well, and what was the meaning of that
confusion about the steamboat and the train, and Birchmore's
explanations?"
"A mistake on their part--that's all. Accidents will happen, you know.
I daresay my unexpected questions disconcerted them greatly; but I was
unsuspicious enough, Heaven knows. What I admire as much as anything in
their management of the affair was the skill with which they made me
believe, from the outset, that I was forcing my company upon _them_,
when in reality it was they who were leading me round by the nose."
"Missus Gainsborough say de tea ready, sah!" said the sable servitor,
opening the door.
"Let's go up at once!" I exclaimed, rising from chair. "I shall
hereafter feel a new interest in looking at Mrs. Gainsborough's
diamonds!"