EXPOSE
Some little time later there filed into the boudoir of the hostess of
Gosnold House a small but select troupe of strangely various tempers.
Mrs. Gosnold herself led the way, portentous countenance matching well
her tread of inexorable purpose but in odd contrast to the demure
frivolity of her Quaker costume.
Sally followed, nervously sullen of bearing toward all save her
employer.
Mr. Walter Arden Savage came next, but at a respectable distance, a
very hang-dog Harlequin indeed, a cigarette drooping disconsolately
from the corner of his mouth.
At the door he stood aside to give precedence to his sister, no longer
Columbine, but a profoundly distressed and apprehensive blonde person
in a particularly fetching negligee.
Miss Pride alone wore her accustomed mien--of sprightly
spinsterhood--unruffled.
Mr. Lyttleton was almost too much at ease; Mr. Mason was
exceedingly dubious; Mr. Trego was, for him, almost abnormally grave.
This last, bringing up the rear of the procession, closed the hall
door at a sign from Mrs. Gosnold. The company found seats
conspicuously apart, with the exception of Mrs. Standish and Savage,
likewise Mercedes, who stuck to her dear Abigail as per invariable
custom. Sally, on her part, found an aloof corner where she could
observe without being conspicuous.
"So," said Mrs. Gosnold, taking her place beside the desk and raking
the gathering with a forbidding eye. "Now if you will all be good
enough to humour me without interruption, I have some announcements to
make, some news to impart, and perhaps a question or two to ask. It's
late, and I'm tired and short of temper, so you needn't be afraid I
won't make the proceedings as brief as possible. But there are certain
matters that must be settled before we go to bed to-night."
She managed a dramatic pause very effectively, and then: "I've been
kidnapped," she announced.
Murmurs of astonishment rewarding her, she smiled grimly.
"Kidnapped," she iterated with a sort of ferocious relish. "At my age,
too. I don't wonder you're surprised. I was. So were my kidnappers,
when they found out who they were making off with. For, of
course, it was a mistake. They were conventional kidnappers, with not.
an ounce of originality to bless themselves with, so naturally they
had meant to kidnap a good-looking youngster--Miss Manwaring, in
fact."
She nodded vigorous affirmation of the statement. "So I'm told, at
least; so Walter tells me; and he ought to know; he claims to have
been the moving spirit in the affair. When he found out his mistake,
of course, he posted off after me to rectify the hideous error, and
arrived just in time to effect a dramatic rescue. And then he had to
confess. . . .
"The whole business," she went on, "from beginning to end, was very
simple, childishly simple. In fact, ridiculous. And sickening. You're
not going, Adele?" she interrupted herself as Mrs. Standish rose.
Without answer her niece moved haughtily too ward the door. Mrs.
Gosnold nodded to Trego.
"Oh, yes, let her go. I'm sure I've no more use for her. But half a
minute, Adele; the car will be ready to take you and Walter to the
nine-thirty boat to-morrow morning."
There was no answer. The door closed behind Mrs. Standish, and her
aunt calmly continued:
"It seems that Adele's notorious extravagance got her into hot water
shortly after she divorced Standish and had only her private means to
support her insane passion for clothes and ostentation in
general. She went to money-lenders--usurers, in fact. And, of course,
that only made it worse. Then Walter, who has never been
overscrupulous, conceived the brilliant notion of squaring everything
up for a new start by swindling the burglary-insurance people. Adele
has always carried heavy insurance on her jewelry--almost the only
sensible habit she ever contracted. And so they conspired, like the
two near-sighted idiots they were. . . .
"On the afternoon of the day they were to start for the Island they
gave all the servants a night off, and contrived to miss connection
with the Sound steamer. Then they went to the Biltmore for dinner, and
when it was dark Walter sneaked back home to burglarise the safe. I
understand he made a very amateurish job of it. Into the bargain, he
was observed. It seems that the servants had carelessly left the
scuttle open to the roof, and Miss Manwaring, caught in a
thunder-storm, had taken shelter in the house--which was quite the
natural thing, and no blame to her. In addition, a real burglar
presently jimmied his way in, caught Walter in the act of rifling his
own safe, and forthwith assaulted him. Walter and the jewels were only
saved by the intervention of Miss Manwaring, who very bravely pointed
a pistol at the real burglar's head, and then, having aided Walter to
turn the tables, ran away. So far, good; Walter booted the
burglar out of the house, loaded up with the jewels, and left to
rejoin Adele. But fate would have it that he should meet Miss
Manwaring again in the Grand Central Station."
She paused for breath, then summed up with an amused smile: "There was
a most embarrassing contretemps: a broken desk and empty safe at home
to be accounted for, whether or not they attempted to swindle the
insurance company; and if they did make the attempt--and remember,
they were desperate for money--a witness to be taken care of. They
couldn't let Miss Manwaring go and tell the story of her adventure
promiscuously, as she had every right to if she chose, for if it got
to the ears of the insurance people their plot would fail, and they
were none too sure that they were not liable to be sent to jail for
conspiracy with intent to defraud. So they cooked up a story to
account for Miss Manwaring and brought her here, knowing that I had
recently dismissed Miss Matring. And immediately, as was quite right
and proper, everything began to go wrong.
"To begin with, the insurance people proved sceptical, largely through
Walter's stupidity. It seems that certain evidences had been left in
the house of Miss Manwaring's presence there with what we may call, I
presume, Walter's permission, the fatal night. The servants who
discovered the burglary noticed these evidences and mentioned them in
their telegram. Walter hurried back to New York to hush the servants
up. He wasn't successful, and the fact that he had endeavoured to
cover something came to the attention of the police, and, inevitably,
through them to the insurance company.
"Then Miss Manwaring turned out to be a young woman of uncommon
character, less gullible than they had reckoned; also, I may say
without undue self-conceit, they had underestimated me. I grew
suspicious, and questioned Miss Manwaring; she was too honest to want
to lie to me and too sensible to try.
"Meantime the need of money grew daily more urgent. They decided that
Walter must pawn the jewels in Boston. They could be redeemed piece by
piece when money was more plentiful. But the jewels were here, and
Walter in New York, and it would be insane for him to come here and
get them and then take them to Boston. In his emergency Adele went
Walter one better in the matter of stupidity. She took Mr. Lyttleton
into her confidence--and, crowning blunder! took his advice. Mr.
Lyttleton conceived a magnificently romantic scheme. Walter was to
come to New Bedford, secretly hire a motor-boat, and be off the
harbour here at a certain hour of night. Mr. Lyttleton was to
leave the jewels in a designated spot at the foot of the cliffs. At an
agreed signal between the yacht and Adele's window Walter was to come
in, at dead of night, and get the jewels, return to the mainland,
discharge his boat, go to Boston, pawn the jewels, and be here in good
time the next day.
"Walter, notified of this arrangement by letter to New York, fell in
with it heart and soul. More stupidity, you see. Worse yet, he put it
into effect. The arrangement was actually carried out last night. And
again their luck turned against them. It so happened that both Miss
Manwaring and Mr. Trego were sleepless last night and observed certain
details of the conspiracy; and to make matters worse, it was the very
night chosen by the thief to steal _my_ jewels.
"When that came out they were all in panic--Walter, Adele, and Mr.
Lyttleton. They put their empty heads together to think what was best
to be done to avert suspicion from themselves. Miss Manwaring was the
real stumbling-block. She knew far too much, and had proved rather
difficult to manage. Among them they evolved another brilliant scheme:
Miss Manwaring must be kidnapped and hidden away in a safe place until
the trouble had blown over. Miss Manwaring having ostensibly confessed
her guilt by flight, suspicion of complicity in the theft would be
diverted from Walter, Adele, and Lyttleton; though they had
positively no hand in the thing, they lacked the courage of their
innocence, and they argued that, when in their own good time they set
the girl at liberty, she would be wanted by the police and would never
again dare show her face where it might be recognised. Not only
stupid, you see, but cold-bloodedly selfish as well.
"Walter undertook to manage the business. He hired a rascally
chauffeur of his acquaintance and commandeered a closed car from my
own garage, figuring that the kidnapping would be an accomplished fact
long before the machine could be wanted, while its absence would never
arouse comment on a fete night. He then induced Miss Manwaring to
consent to meet him in a conveniently secluded spot near the gates. I
overheard something, enough to lead me to suspect there was something
wrong afoot, and therefore persuaded Miss Manwaring to lend me this
costume of hers and went to meet Walter in her stead. Before I guessed
what was up a bag was thrown over my head, my hands and feet were
bound, and I was lifted into the body of the car and driven away at
such speed that Walter, who found out his mistake almost immediately,
was unable to overtake me before I arrived at the spot chosen for Miss
Manwaring's prison--a deserted shooting-lodge on the South Shore."
"Meantime, when it was found that I had been kidnapped instead of the
girl, and while Walter was going to fetch me and make what amends he
could, Adele and Mr. Lyttleton lost their heads entirely. Adele rushed
round looking for Miss Manwaring, and when finally she found her,
endeavoured to induce her to run away on her own account. And Mr.
Lyttleton (who, by the by, will be leaving with Adele and Walter in
the morning) on his own behalf arranged to direct suspicion of the
robbery to Miss Manwaring, induced Mr. Mason to exceed my instructions
and open the envelopes in my absence, and led Mr. Mason to Miss
Manwaring's room, where, to his own stupendous surprise, there was
found hidden one of the rings that had been stolen."
"What makes you think he was so much surprised?" Mr. Trego cut in, who
had turned in his chair to eye Mr. Lyttleton in a most unpleasantly
truculent fashion.
"Because he didn't know it was there."
"But somebody must have made the plant," Trego argued. "There's no
question, I take it, of Miss Manwaring's innocence?"
"None whatever!" Mrs. Gosnold affirmed.
"Then why not Lyttleton as well as another?"
"That," Mrs. Gosnold said slowly, indeed reluctantly, "brings me to
the fact that no confession has been made, as I had hoped it might be.
That is to say, the jewels have not been restored. I am sorry. I
have done all I could to protect the thief."
"You know--?" Trego inquired.
"I saw the theft committed," said Mrs. Gosnold. "It was done not for
gain, but for the sole purpose of securing Miss Manwaring's
discharge--"
A short, sharp cry interrupted her, and in the momentary silence of
astonishment that followed Mercedes Pride shut her eyes, sighed
gently, slipped from her chair, and subsided to the floor in a dead
faint.