Bunfit and Gager
As soon as the words were out of Mrs. Carbuncle's mouth,--those
ill-natured words in which she expressed her assent to Mr. Bunfit's
proposition that a search should be made after the diamonds among
all the possessions of Lady Eustace which were now lodged in her own
house,--poor Lizzie's courage deserted her entirely. She had been
very courageous; for, though her powers of endurance had sometimes
nearly deserted her, though her heart had often failed her, still
she had gone on and had endured and been silent. To endure and to be
silent in her position did require great courage. She was all alone
in her misery, and could see no way out of it. The diamonds were
heavy as a load of lead within her bosom. And yet she had persevered.
Now, as she heard Mrs. Carbuncle's words, her courage failed her.
There came some obstruction in her throat, so that she could not
speak. She felt as though her heart were breaking. She put out both
her hands and could not draw them back again. She knew that she
was betraying herself by her weakness. She could just hear the man
explaining that the search was merely a thing of ceremony,--just to
satisfy everybody that there was no mistake;--and then she fainted.
So far, Barrington Erle was correct in the information given by him
to Lady Glencora. She pressed one hand against her heart, gasped for
breath, and then fell back upon the sofa. Perhaps she could have
done nothing better. Had the fainting been counterfeit, the measure
would have shown ability. But the fainting was altogether true. Mrs.
Carbuncle first, and then Mr. Bunfit, hurried from their seats to
help her. To neither of them did it occur for a moment that the fit
was false.
"The whole thing has been too much for her," said Mrs. Carbuncle
severely, ringing the bell at the same time for further aid.
"No doubt,--mum; no doubt. We has to see a deal of this sort of
thing. Just a little air, if you please, mum,--and as much water as'd
go to christen a babby. That's always best, mum."
"If you'll have the kindness to stand on one side," said Mrs.
Carbuncle, as she stretched Lizzie on the sofa.
"Certainly, mum," said Bunfit, standing erect by the wall, but not
showing the slightest disposition to leave the room.
"You had better go," said Mrs. Carbuncle,--loudly and very severely.
"I'll just stay and see her come to, mum. I won't do her a morsel of
harm, mum. Sometimes they faints at the very fust sight of such as
we; but we has to bear it. A little more air, if you could, mum;--and
just dash the water on in drops like. They feels a drop more than
they would a bucketful,--and then when they comes to they hasn't to
change theirselves."
Bunfit's advice, founded on much experience, was good, and Lizzie
gradually came to herself and opened her eyes. She immediately
clutched at her breast, feeling for her key. She found it unmoved,
but before her finger had recognised the touch, her quick mind had
told her how wrong the movement had been. It had been lost upon Mrs.
Carbuncle, but not on Mr. Bunfit. He did not at once think that she
had the diamonds in her desk; but he felt almost sure that there was
something in her possession,--probably some document,--which, if
found, would place him on the track of the diamonds. But he could
not compel a search. "Your ladyship'll soon be better," said Bunfit
graciously. Lizzie endeavoured to smile as she expressed her assent
to this proposition. "As I was a saying to the elder lady--"
"Saying to who, sir?" exclaimed Mrs. Carbuncle, rising up in wrath.
"Elder, indeed!"
"As I was a venturing to explain, these fits of fainting come often
in our way. Thieves, mum,--that is, the regulars,--don't mind us a
bit, and the women is more hardeneder than the men; but when we has
to speak to a lady, it is so often that she goes off like that! I've
known 'em do it just at being looked at."
"Don't you think, sir, that you'd better leave us now?" said Mrs.
Carbuncle.
"Indeed you had," said Lizzie. "I'm fit for nothing just at present."
"We won't disturb your ladyship the least in life," said Mr. Bunfit,
"if you'll only just let us have your keys. Your servant can be with
us, and we won't move one tittle of anything." But Lizzie, though she
was still suffering that ineffable sickness which always accompanies
and follows a real fainting-fit, would not surrender her keys.
Already had an excuse for not doing so occurred to her. But for a
while she seemed to hesitate. "I don't demand it, Lady Eustace," said
Mr. Bunfit, "but if you'll allow me to say so, I do think it will
look better for your ladyship."
"I can take no step without consulting my cousin, Mr. Greystock,"
said Lizzie; and having thought of this she adhered to it. The
detective supplied her with many reasons for giving up her keys,
alleging that it would do no harm, and that her refusal would create
infinite suspicions. But Lizzie had formed her answer and stuck
to it. She always consulted her cousin, and always acted upon his
advice. He had already cautioned her not to take any steps without
his sanction. She would do nothing till he consented. If Mr. Bunfit
would see Mr. Greystock, and if Mr. Greystock would come to her and
tell her to submit,--she would submit. Ill as she was, she could
be obstinate, and Bunfit left the house without having been able
to finger that key which he felt sure that Lady Eustace carried
somewhere on her person.
As he walked back to his own quarters in Scotland Yard, Bunfit was by
no means dissatisfied with his morning's work. He had not expected to
find anything with Lady Eustace, and, when she fainted, had not hoped
to be allowed to search. But he was now sure that her ladyship was
possessed, at any rate, of some guilty knowledge. Bunfit was one
of those who, almost from the first, had believed that the box was
empty when taken out of the hotel. "Stones like them must turn up
more or less," was Bunfit's great argument. That the police should
already have found the stones themselves was not perhaps probable;
but had any ordinary thieves had them in their hands, they could
not have been passed on without leaving a trace behind them. It
was his opinion that the box had been opened and the door cut
by the instrumentality and concurrence of Lord George de Bruce
Carruthers,--with the assistance of some well-skilled mechanical
thief. Nothing could be made out of the tall footman;--indeed,
the tall footman had already been set at liberty, although he was
known to have evil associates; and the tall footman was now loud in
demanding compensation for the injury done to him. Many believed that
the tall footman had been concerned in the matter,--many, that is,
among the experienced craftsmen of the police force. Bunfit thought
otherwise. Bunfit believed that the diamonds were now either in the
possession of Lord George or of Harter and Benjamin, that they had
been handed over to Lord George to save them from Messrs. Camperdown
and the lawsuit, and that Lord George and the lady were lovers. The
lady's conduct at their last interview, her fit of fainting, and
her clutching for the key, all confirmed Bunfit in his opinion. But
unfortunately for Bunfit he was almost alone in his opinion. There
were men in the force,--high in their profession as detectives,--who
avowed that certainly two very experienced and well-known thieves had
been concerned in the business. That a certain Mr. Smiler had been
there,--a gentleman for whom the whole police of London entertained a
feeling which approached to veneration, and that most diminutive of
full-grown thieves, Billy Cann,--most diminutive but at the same time
most expert,--was not doubted by some minds which were apt to doubt
till conviction had become certainty. The traveller who had left the
Scotch train at Dumfries had been a very small man, and it was a
known fact that Mr. Smiler had left London by train, from the Euston
Square station, on the day before that on which Lizzie and her party
had reached Carlisle. If it were so, if Mr. Smiler and Billy Cann had
both been at work at the hotel, then,--so argued they who opposed the
Bunfit theory,--it was hardly conceivable that the robbery should
have been arranged by Lord George. According to the Bunfit theory,
the only thing needed by the conspirators had been that the diamonds
should be handed over by Lady Eustace to Lord George in such a way
as to escape suspicion that such transfer had been made. This might
have been done with very little trouble,--by simply leaving the box
empty, with the key in it. The door of the bedroom had been opened
by skilful professional men, and the box had been forced by the use
of tools which none but professional gentlemen would possess. Was it
probable that Lord George would have committed himself with such men,
and incurred the very heavy expense of paying for their services,
when he was,--according to the Bunfit theory,--able to get at the
diamonds without any such trouble, danger, and expenditure? There
was a young detective in the force, very clever,--almost too clever,
and certainly a little too fast,--Gager by name, who declared that
the Bunfit theory "warn't on the cards." According to Gager's
information, Smiler was at this moment a broken-hearted man,--ranging
between mad indignation and suicidal despondency, because he had been
treated with treachery in some direction. Mr. Gager was as fully
convinced as Bunfit that the diamonds had not been in the box. There
was bitter, raging, heart-breaking disappointment about the diamonds
in more quarters than one. That there had been a double robbery Gager
was quite sure;--or rather a robbery in which two sets of thieves had
been concerned, and in which one set had been duped by the other set.
In this affair Mr. Smiler and poor little Billy Cann had been the
dupes. So far Gager's mind had arrived at certainty. But then how had
they been duped, and who had duped them? And who had employed them?
Such a robbery would hardly have been arranged and executed except
on commission. Even Mr. Smiler would not have burthened himself with
such diamonds without knowing what to do with them, and what he
should get for them. That they were intended ultimately for the hands
of Messrs. Harter and Benjamin, Gager almost believed. And Gager
was inclined to think that Messrs. Harter and Benjamin,--or rather
Mr. Benjamin, for Mr. Harter himself was almost too old for work
requiring so very great mental activity,--that Mr. Benjamin, fearing
the honesty of his executive officer Mr. Smiler, had been splendidly
treacherous to his subordinate. Gager had not quite completed his
theory; but he was very firm on one great point,--that the thieves at
Carlisle had been genuine thieves, thinking that they were stealing
the diamonds, and finding their mistake out when the box had been
opened by them under the bridge. "Who have 'em, then?" asked Bunfit
of his younger brother, in a disparaging whisper.
"Well; yes; who 'ave 'em? It's easy to say, who 'ave 'em? Suppose
'e 'ave 'em." The "he" alluded to by Gager was Lord George de Bruce
Carruthers. "But laws, Bunfit, they're gone--weeks ago. You know
that, Bunfit." This had occurred before the intended search among
poor Lizzie's boxes, but Bunfit's theory had not been shaken. Bunfit
could see all round his own theory. It was whole, and the motives as
well as the operations of the persons concerned were explained by it.
But the Gager theory only went to show what had not been done, and
offered no explanation of the accomplished scheme. Then Bunfit went a
little further in his theory, not disdaining to accept something from
Gager. Perhaps Lord George had engaged these men, and had afterwards
found it practicable to get the diamonds without their assistance. On
one great point all concerned in the inquiry were in unison,--that
the diamonds had not been in the box when it was carried out of the
bedroom at Carlisle. The great point of difference consisted in this,
that whereas Gager was sure that the robbery when committed had been
genuine, Bunfit was of opinion that the box had been first opened,
and then taken out of the hotel in order that the police might be put
on a wrong track.
The matter was becoming very important. Two or three of the leading
newspapers had first hinted at and then openly condemned the
incompetence and slowness of the police. Such censure, as we all
know, is very common, and in nine cases out of ten it is unjust. They
who write it probably know but little of the circumstances;--and, in
speaking of a failure here and a failure there, make no reference
to the numerous successes, which are so customary as to partake
of the nature of routine. It is the same in regard to all public
matters,--army matters, navy matters, poor-law matters, and
post-office matters. Day after day, and almost every day, one meets
censure which is felt to be unjust;--but the general result of all
this injustice is increased efficiency. The coach does go the faster
because of the whip in the coachman's hand, though the horses driven
may never have deserved the thong. In this matter of the Eustace
diamonds the police had been very active; but they had been
unsuccessful, and had consequently been abused. The robbery was now
more than three weeks old. Property to the amount of ten thousand
pounds had been abstracted, and as yet the police had not even formed
an assured opinion on the subject! Had the same thing occurred in
New York or Paris every diamond would by this time have been traced.
Such were the assertions made, and the police were instigated to new
exertions. Bunfit would have jeopardised his right hand, and Gager
his life, to get at the secret. Even Major Mackintosh was anxious.
The facts of the claim made by Mr. Camperdown, and of the bill which
had been filed in Chancery for the recovery of the diamonds, were
of course widely known, and added much to the general interest and
complexity. It was averred that Mr. Camperdown's determination
to get the diamonds had been very energetic, and Lady Eustace's
determination to keep them equally so. Wonderful stories were told of
Lizzie's courage, energy, and resolution. There was hardly a lawyer
of repute but took up the question, and had an opinion as to Lizzie's
right to the necklace. The Attorney and Solicitor-General were dead
against her, asserting that the diamonds certainly did not pass to
her under the will, and could not have become hers by gift. But they
were members of a Liberal government, and of course anti-Lizzieite.
Gentlemen who were equal to them in learning, who had held offices
equally high, were distinctly of a different opinion. Lady
Eustace might probably claim the jewels as paraphernalia properly
appertaining to her rank;--in which claim the bestowal of them by her
husband would no doubt assist her. And to these gentlemen,--who were
Lizzieites and of course Conservatives in politics,--it was by no
means clear that the diamonds did not pass to her by will. If it
could be shown that the diamonds had been lately kept in Scotland,
the ex-Attorney-General thought that they would so pass. All which
questions, now that the jewels had been lost, were discussed openly,
and added greatly to the anxiety of the police. Both Lizzieites and
anti-Lizzieites were disposed to think that Lizzie was very clever.
Frank Greystock in these days took up his cousin's part altogether in
good faith. He entertained not the slightest suspicion that she was
deceiving him in regard to the diamonds. That the robbery had been a
bona-fide robbery, and that Lizzie had lost her treasure, was to him
beyond doubt. He had gradually convinced himself that Mr. Camperdown
was wrong in his claim, and was strongly of opinion that Lord Fawn
had disgraced himself by his conduct to the lady. When he now heard,
as he did hear, that some undefined suspicion was attached to his
cousin,--and when he heard also, as unfortunately he did hear,--that
Lord Fawn had encouraged that suspicion, he was very irate, and said
grievous things of Lord Fawn. It seemed to him to be the extremity
of cruelty that suspicion should be attached to his cousin because
she had been robbed of her jewels. He was among those who were most
severe in their denunciation of the police,--and was the more so,
because he had heard it asserted that the necklace had not in truth
been stolen. He busied himself very much in the matter, and even
interrogated John Eustace as to his intentions. "My dear fellow,"
said Eustace, "if you hated those diamonds as much as I do, you would
never mention them again." Greystock declared that this expression of
aversion to the subject might be all very well for Mr. Eustace, but
that he found himself bound to defend his cousin. "You cannot defend
her against me," said Eustace, "for I do not attack her. I have never
said a word against her. I went down to Portray when she asked me. As
far as I am concerned she is perfectly welcome to wear the necklace,
if she can get it back again. I will not make or meddle in the matter
one way or the other." Frank, after that, went to Mr. Camperdown, but
he could get no satisfaction from the attorney. Mr. Camperdown would
only say that he had a duty to do, and that he must do it. On the
matter of the robbery he refused to give an opinion. That was in the
hands of the police. Should the diamonds be recovered, he would, of
course, claim them on behalf of the estate. In his opinion, whether
the diamonds were recovered or not, Lady Eustace was responsible to
the estate for their value. In opposition, first to the entreaties,
and then to the demands of her late husband's family, she had
insisted on absurdly carrying about with her an enormous amount of
property which did not belong to her. Mr. Camperdown opined that
she must pay for the lost diamonds out of her jointure. Frank, in a
huff, declared that, as far as he could see, the diamonds belonged
to his cousin;--in answer to which Mr. Camperdown suggested that
the question was one for the decision of the Vice-Chancellor. Frank
Greystock found that he could do nothing with Mr. Camperdown, and
felt that he could wreak his vengeance only on Lord Fawn.
Bunfit, when he returned from Mrs. Carbuncle's house to Scotland
Yard, had an interview with Major Mackintosh. "Well, Bunfit, have you
seen the lady?"
"Yes,--I did see her, sir."
"And what came of it?"
"She fainted away, sir--just as they always do."
"There was no search, I suppose?"
"No, sir;--no search. She wouldn't have it, unless her cousin, Mr.
Greystock, permitted."
"I didn't think she would."
"Nor yet didn't I, sir. But I'll tell you what it is, major. She
knows all about it."
"You think she does, Bunfit?"
"She does, sir; and she's got something locked up somewhere in that
house as'd elucidate the whole of this aggravating mystery, if only
we could get at it. Major,--"
"Well, Bunfit?"
"I ain't noways sure as she ain't got them very diamonds themselves
locked up, or, perhaps, tied round her person."
"Neither am I sure that she has not," said the major.
"The robbery at Carlisle was no robbery," continued Bunfit. "It was
a got-up plant, and about the best as I ever knowed. It's my mind
that it was a got-up plant between her ladyship and his lordship; and
either the one or the other is just keeping the diamonds till it's
safe to take 'em into the market."