THE VICTIM OF A WOMAN'S WILES.
Justin Cutler, after leaving the hotel, went directly to one of the first
jewelers of the city, a well-known diamond expert, and submitted Mrs.
Bently's ornaments to his judgment.
"They are remarkably fine stones." Mr. Arnold remarked, after having
carefully examined them through a microscope; "very pure and clear, most
of them without a flaw. So far as I can see, there is not one of them
that is in the least off-color."
"I thought so," was Mr. Cutler's inward and exultant comment; but he
simply asked, as if he accepted the man's verdict as a matter of course:
"What is your estimate of their value?"
"Well," said the jeweler, smiling, "if you wish to know their real
value just for your own satisfaction, I can give it; but that might
considerably exceed the amount I should be willing to name in case you
might wish to dispose of them to me."
"I understand," Mr. Cutler returned; "but what would they be worth to
you--what would you be willing to give for the stones?"
Mr. Arnold considered the matter a few moments, and then named a sum
which Mr. Cutler deemed a fair price under the circumstances, and one
which he felt sure Mrs. Bently would be only too glad to secure in her
emergency.
"You make that offer for them, then--you will purchase them if the lady
agrees to take the sum you have named?" he asked.
"Yes, and the offer shall be open for her acceptance or refusal for three
days."
"Thank you; I will see you again before the time expires," Mr. Cutler
replied; and, taking up the diamonds, which Mr. Arnold had placed in a
small box, he put them carefully away in an inside pocket and left the
store.
When he returned to his hotel he sent his card up to Mrs. Bently, with a
request that she would see him for a few moments in the reception-room.
But he was greatly disappointed when the waiter returned and said that
the lady was out.
He had an engagement for the evening, and thus he would not be able to
see her until the next morning. He was somewhat troubled, for he did not
like to retain her diamonds over night; but since he could not return
them to her, he judged they would be safer about his person than anywhere
else, and so did not remove them from his pocket.
The next morning he was early in his place at breakfast-time and
anxiously awaiting the appearance of Mrs. Bently.
She soon came in, looking much brighter and fresher than she had been the
day before, and he noticed that she was in her traveling-dress.
Could she be contemplating leaving the hotel? he asked himself, with a
sudden sense of depression.
She smiled and bowed as she passed him, and he remarked, in a low tone,
as he returned her salutation:
"I will wait for you in the reception-room."
She nodded assent, but a gleam of amusement shot into her expressive
eyes, which he interpreted to mean that she believed he had failed in his
errand and would be obliged to acknowledge the truth of what she had told
him about her ornaments.
This thought greatly elated him, and he chuckled to himself as he
imagined her astonishment when he should inform her of the offer of the
diamond merchant.
He soon finished his breakfast and repaired to the reception-room, where
he drew forth his morning paper to while away the time until Mrs. Bently
should appear.
But she did not hurry, and he began to grow impatient. Evidently she had
no faith in the genuineness of the stones, and had no intention of
spoiling her breakfast just to be told what she already knew.
It was nearly half an hour before she came to him, but he could forgive
her for making him wait, for her greeting was unusually cordial, and she
seemed lovelier than ever in her pretty dress of dark gray trimmed with
black. It was made very high at the throat, and fitted her perfect form
like a glove. Her face was like a flawless pearl, and he had begun to
think the soft ruddy rings that crowned her milk-white brow and made her
look so youthful, the most beautiful hair in the world.
He sprang to his feet, his face all aglow, and went forward to take the
hand she extended to him.
"I have such good news for you, Mrs. Bently," he said, as he drew the
little box from his pocket. "Your gems are real after all," and he
slipped them into her hand as he spoke.
She lifted a startled, incredulous look to his face.
"You cannot mean it--you are only jesting!" she cried.
"Indeed no; I would not jest and I do mean just what I have said," he
persisted.
"Impossible! Why, Mr. Cutler, I gave less than ten dollars for the
crescents."
The young man looked blank.
"Then some one has made an expensive blunder, and set real diamonds for
you instead of paste. Where did you purchase them--or order them made?"
"Of Hardowin & Leroux, under the Palais Royal, Paris, less than a year
ago," Mrs. Bently promptly responded.
"It does not seem possible that any one could have made such a costly
mistake," Justin Cutler said, looking perplexed. "It is almost
incredible."
"Yes, and I am just as astonished by your report," his companion said,
lifting the cover of the box and gazing upon the blazing stones. "They do
look wonderfully real," she added, "and yet I can hardly believe, Mr.
Cutler, that any one would be willing to purchase them and give me the
value of diamonds."
"But the gentleman to whom I submitted them--a jeweler and an
expert--made me an offer for them," and he named the sum.
"So much?" murmured the fair woman, flushing. "Ah, it would be such a
help."
"This offer," Mr. Cutler resumed, "is to remain open to you for three
days, and you can take them to him within that time if you see fit, and
Mr. Arnold will give you the money."
Mrs. Bently made a sudden gesture of repulsion, her head drooped, a flush
swept up to her brow, and tears rushed to her eyes.
"Poor little woman!" said Justin Cutler to himself, "it humiliates her to
think of selling her jewels--of course it must."
Then he asked, after a moment of thought:
"Would you accept the amount that Mr. Arnold offered?"
"Why, yes, if--if you are sure that they are real, and think it would be
right for me to do so," she answered, with a somewhat troubled expression
on her fair face.
"Of course it will be perfectly right; the man knew what he was talking
about, for, as I told you, he is a diamond expert, and he examined them
with the utmost care."
"The amount would be very acceptable," said the fair widow, musingly,
"and I shall be glad to sell them; but--"
"The thought of going personally to sell your jewels humiliates you," the
generous-hearted young man added; "then let me do it for you, and relieve
you of the disagreeable task."
"How kind you are; how you read my very thoughts; but I do not like to
trouble you," murmured the beautiful woman, with a quiver of her red lips
and a thrilling glance. "And yet," she continued, "I must have money at
once. I was going to my lawyer this morning to beg him to try and raise
something for me in some way, for I must settle my bill here to-day. I
have dismissed my maid and engaged a room at No. 10 ---- street, and am
going there this afternoon. Oh! Mr. Cutler, it is very hard to be obliged
to confess my poverty," and she had to abruptly cease her remarks, in
order to preserve her self-control, for she seemed upon the point of
breaking down utterly.
"Mrs. Bently," said the young man, with sudden impulse, "let me relieve
you from all unpleasantness; let me advance you the sum which Mr. Arnold
named; then I can take the crescents to him and he will make it right
with me."
A peculiar smile lingered about his lips as he concluded.
"That is exceedingly kind of you," Mrs. Bently said, gratefully, "but,
truly, Mr. Cutler, I am almost afraid to take you at your word."
"Why?"
"Because I have always regarded the crescents as paste, and--and I cannot
quite divest myself of the idea even now, in spite of your assurance,"
she answered, with a clouded brow.
Her companion laughed aloud.
"I will be responsible for their genuineness," he returned. "See!" he
added, drawing a card from his pocket and writing rapidly upon it. "I
will give you this to ease your conscience."
She took it and read:
"I, the undersigned, purchase of Mrs. Bently a pair of crescent ornaments
which she affirms are paste, but which I am content to accept as genuine,
for the sum agreed upon."
The price was carried out in figures, and his full name signed
underneath.
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
"You are determined to befriend me, in spite of my scruples," she
murmured, brokenly.
"I would gladly do a hundred-fold more for you," he replied, with tender
earnestness. "Will you let me have the crescents now?"
"Yes, and thank you more than I can express," she answered, with drooping
lids.
He drew forth a wallet filled with bills, and began to count out the sum
he had named.
"Wait a moment," said Mrs. Bently, the color mounting to her temples; "I
have a handsome case for the ornaments. I will go and get it for you."
She turned suddenly and vanished from his presence, before he could tell
her he would rather take them in the little box.
"How sensitive the poor child is!" he murmured, with a tender smile; "she
could not even bear to see me count out the money."
Mrs. Bently soon returned with a handsome morocco case in her hands.
"They look better in this," she remarked, as she lifted the lid, and
revealed the crescents lying upon a rich black velvet bed; "and," with a
nervous little laugh, "now that I know they are genuine, I really am very
loath to part with them, in spite of my necessity."
She closed the case with a snap, and passed it to him, and he slipped a
roll of crisp bank-bills into her hand.
"This arrangement will smooth all difficulties, I trust," he said, "and
now," with a slight tremor in his voice, "I have a special favor to ask.
May I come to see you at No. 10 ---- street?"
"Certainly, you may, Mr. Cutler," she replied, lifting a bright, eager
face to him, "and I assure you I shall have a warmer welcome for no one
else. I cannot tell you how grateful I am--"
"Do not speak of that," he interposed. "I am amply repaid for anything I
have done by seeing the look of trouble gone from your face. I must bid
you good morning now, but I shall give myself the pleasure of calling
upon you very soon."
He held out his hand to her, and she laid hers within it. He was
surprised to find it icy cold and trembling, but he attributed it to
emotion caused by the parting with him.
"Then I shall only say _au revoir_," she responded, smiling.
She looked so lovely that he longed to draw her within his arms and take
a more tender leave of her, but again putting a curb upon himself, he
simply bowed, and left her, when with a quick, elastic step, she swept
up stairs to her own apartments.
Justin Cutler was very busy all the morning, and did not find time to go
to the jeweler's until the afternoon.
He had no intention of disposing of the crescents--he simply wished to
tell him that he had himself concluded to purchase them, and then ask the
privilege of depositing them in Mr. Arnold's safe for a few days; for
they were to be his gift to the woman he loved, if she received his suit
with favor.
The gentleman was in, and his eyes lighted as his glance fell upon the
case which Mr. Cutler laid upon the show-case, for he believed that, in
purchasing the crescents, he was going to get an unusually good bargain.
"Ah," he remarked, "the lady has decided to dispose of the stones?"
"Yes; but--" Mr. Cutler began, when he suddenly stopped, and gazed,
astonished, at the man.
He had taken the case, opened it, and started in dismay as he saw what
were within, while a look of blank consternation overspread his face.
Then he turned sternly, almost fiercely, upon the young man.
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, in a threatening tone. "Did
you imagine you could cheat me in this miserable way? You have got hold
of the wrong customer if you did."
"What do you mean, sir?" inquired Mr. Cutler, amazed, but flushing
angrily at being addressed so uncivilly.
"These are not the stones you brought to me yesterday," said Mr. Arnold,
who was also very angry.
"Sir!" exclaimed Justin Cutler, aghast, but with haughty mien.
"They are nothing but paste," continued the jeweler, eyeing the beautiful
crescents with disdain; "and," he added, menacingly, "I've a mind to have
you arrested on the spot for attempting to obtain money under false
pretenses."
Mr. Cutler grew pale at this with mingled anger and a sudden fear.
He reached across the counter and took the case from Mr. Arnold's hand.
He turned the stones to the light.
At the first glance they seemed to be all right--he could detect nothing
wrong; for aught that he could see the crescents were the same which he
had submitted to the merchant the day before. But as he studied them more
closely the gleam of the gems was entirely different--the fire of the
genuine diamond was lacking.
"Can it be possible that I have been duped, swindled?" he exclaimed, with
white lips and a sinking heart.
"I should say, rather, that you were attempting to dupe and swindle some
one else," sarcastically retorted the diamond dealer. "The stones are a
remarkably fine imitation, I am free to confess, and would easily deceive
a casual observer; but if you have ever tried and succeeded in this
clever game before, you are certainly caught this time."
"Mr. Arnold, I assure you that I am blameless in this matter--that
I honestly believed the jewels to be the same that I brought to you
yesterday," the young man said, with an earnest directness which
convinced the gentleman that he spoke the truth. "I see now," he
continued, "that they are not; and"--a feeling of faintness almost
overpowering him as he realized all that this experience would cost
him, aside from his pecuniary loss--"I have been outrageously deceived
and hoodwinked, for I have already advanced the sum you named to the
woman who wished to dispose of the diamonds."
Mr. Arnold searched the manly face before him, and was forced to believe
in the truth of his statements.
"If that is so, then you have indeed been wretchedly swindled," he said;
"for these crescents are but duplicates in paste of those I examined
yesterday. How did you happen to be so taken in?"
Mr. Cutler briefly related the circumstances, and when he concluded, Mr.
Arnold remarked:
"The woman was an accomplished cheat, and led you on very adroitly. Your
mistake was in advancing the money for the stones; if you had brought
these things to me first, you would have saved yourself this loss. But
of course she never would have allowed that; her game was to get the
money from you, and she worked you finely for it."
Mr. Cutler groaned in spirit as he realized it all, and how he had tied
his own hands by what he had written on the card that he had given to the
wily woman.
He kept this portion of the transaction to himself, however; he could not
confess how foolishly weak he had been. Surely his infatuation for the
beautiful widow had led him beyond all bounds of common sense and good
judgment; but he had no one but himself to blame, and he must bear his
loss as best he could. His lost faith in womanhood was the heaviest part
of it.
"I sincerely regret having put you to so much trouble, Mr. Arnold," he
courteously remarked, as he closed the jewel-case and put it out of
sight, "and as a favor, I would ask that you regard this matter as
strictly confidential. I have been miserably fooled, and met with a
heavy loss, but I do not wish all Chicago to ring with the story."
"You may trust me, and accept my assurance that I am sincerely sorry for
you," the jeweler returned, in a tone of sympathy, and now entirely
convinced of the honesty of the young man. "And let me tell you,"
he added, "for your personal benefit, while examining those crescents
yesterday, I put a private mark on the back of the settings with a
steel-pointed instrument; it was like this"--making a cipher on a card
and passing it to him. "If you should ever be fortunate enough to come
across them again, you could identify them by it."
"Thank you," Mr. Cutler returned, as he put it carefully away.
Then he wished the gentleman a polite good-day, and went out of the
store, a wiser, but a somewhat poorer, man than he had been the previous
day.
He was almost crushed by the wrong which had been perpetrated against
him. He had been thoroughly and artfully deceived. Mrs. Bently--if indeed
that was her real name, which he doubted--had seemed such a modest and
unassuming woman, so frank, and sweet, and ingenuous, that he would have
indignantly resented it had any one hinted to him that she was not all
that she appeared to be.
He had never met any woman who possessed such power to charm him, and yet
she had never seemed to seek his notice--had never appeared to thrust
herself upon him in any way. He had instead sought _her_ and been
especially attracted to her by the very simplicity and naturalness of her
deportment; and this rude awakening to the fact of her duplicity was
therefore far more bitter than the loss of his money, although that was
considerable.
He was greatly depressed, but, on leaving Mr. Arnold's store, he
proceeded directly to the street and number which she had given as her
future place of residence. It proved to be an empty house with the sign
"To Rent" staring at him from several windows.
He next sought for the lawyer who, Mrs. Bently had told him, had
conducted her business affairs. There was no such person to be found.
Then, his indignation getting the better of his grief and disappointment,
he sought a detective, told his story, and gave the case into his hands.
"Keep the matter quiet, Rider," he said, "but spare no expense to find
the woman. If she is a professional thief, she will try the same trick on
some one else; and though we may not be able to bring her to justice in
this case, since I so rashly tied my hands by giving her that writing,
yet I should like to give my evidence against her for the benefit of some
other unfortunate victim."
Thus the matter rested for the time, and Justin Cutler once more threw
himself heart and soul into business, vowing that he would never trust a
woman again.
"But I'll keep the bogus crescents, to remind me of my folly, for of
course I shall never see the real ones again."
Did he?