Confidence
Lizzie Eustace was speechless as she continued to look up into the
Corsair's face. She ought to have answered him briskly, either with
indignation or with a touch of humour. But she could not answer him
at all. She was desired to tell him all that she knew about the
robbery, and she was unable to declare that she knew nothing. How
much did he suspect? What did he believe? Had she been watched by
Mrs. Carbuncle, and had something of the truth been told to him?
And then would it not be better for her that he should know it all?
Unsupported and alone she could not bear the trouble which was on
her. If she were driven to tell her secret to any one, had she not
better tell it to him? She knew that if she did so, she would be a
creature in his hands to be dealt with as he pleased;--but would
there not be a certain charm in being so mastered? He was but a
pinchbeck lord. She had wit enough to know that; but then she had wit
enough also to feel that she herself was but a pinchbeck lady. He
would be fit for her, and she for him,--if only he would take her.
Since her daydreams first began, she had been longing for a Corsair;
and here he was, not kneeling at her feet, but standing over her,--as
became a Corsair. At any rate he had mastered her now, and she could
not speak to him.
He waited perhaps a minute, looking at her, before he renewed his
question; and the minute seemed to her to be an age. During every
second her power beneath his gaze sank lower and lower. There
gradually came a grim smile over his face, and she was sure that
he could read her very heart. Then he called her by her Christian
name,--as he had never called her before. "Come, Lizzie," he said,
"you might as well tell me all about it. You know."
"Know what?" The words were audible to him, though they were uttered
in the lowest whisper.
"About this d---- necklace. What is it all? Where are they? And how
did you manage it?"
"I didn't manage anything!"
"But you know where they are?" He paused again, still gazing at her.
Gradually there came across his face, or she fancied that it was so,
a look of ferocity which thoroughly frightened her. If he should turn
against her, and be leagued with the police against her, what chance
would she have? "You know where they are," he said, repeating his
words. Then at last she nodded her head, assenting to his assertion.
"And where are they? Come;--out with it! If you won't tell me, you
must tell some one else. There has been a deal too much of this
already."
"You won't betray me?"
"Not if you deal openly with me."
"I will; indeed I will. And it was all an accident. When I took them
out of the box, I only did it for safety."
"You did take them out of the box then?" Again she nodded her head.
"And have got them now?" There was another nod. "And where are they?
Come; with such a spirit of enterprise as yours you ought to be able
to speak. Has Benjamin got them?"
"Oh, no."
"And he knows nothing about them?"
"Nothing."
"Then I have wronged in my thoughts that son of Abraham?"
"Nobody knows anything," said Lizzie.
"Not even Jane or Lucinda?"
"Nothing at all."
"Then you have kept your secret marvellously. And where are they?"
"Up-stairs."
"In your bed-room?"
"In my desk in the little sitting-room."
"The Lord be good to us!" ejaculated Lord George. "All the police in
London, from the chief downwards, are agog about this necklace. Every
well-known thief in the town is envied by every other thief because
he is thought to have had a finger in the pie. I am suspected, and
Mr. Benjamin is suspected; Sir Griffin is suspected, and half the
jewellers in London and Paris are supposed to have the stones in
their keeping. Every man and woman is talking about it, and people
are quarrelling about it till they almost cut each other's throats;
and all the while you have got them locked up in your desk! How on
earth did you get the box broken open and then conveyed out of your
room at Carlisle?"
Then Lizzie, in a frightened whisper, with her eyes often turned on
the floor, told the whole story. "If I'd had a minute to think of
it," she said, "I would have confessed the truth at Carlisle. Why
should I want to steal what was my own? But they came to me all so
quickly, and I didn't like to say that I had them under my pillow."
"I daresay not."
"And then I couldn't tell anybody afterwards. I always meant to tell
you,--from the very first; because I knew you would be good to me.
They are my own. Surely I might do what I liked with my own?"
"Well,--yes; in one way. But you see there was a lawsuit in Chancery
going on about them; and then you committed perjury at Carlisle. And
altogether,--it's not quite straight sailing, you know."
"I suppose not."
"Hardly. Major Mackintosh, and the magistrates, and Messrs. Bunfit
and Gager won't settle down, peaceable and satisfied, when they hear
the end of the story. And I think Messrs. Camperdown will have a bill
against you. It's been uncommonly clever, but I don't see the use of
it."
"I've been very foolish," said Lizzie,--"but you won't desert me!"
"Upon my word I don't know what I'm to do."
"Will you have them,--as a present?"
"Certainly not."
"They're worth ever so much;--ten thousand pounds! And they are my
own, to do just what I please with them."
"You are very good;--but what should I do with them?"
"Sell them."
"Who'd buy them? And before a week was over I should be in prison,
and in a couple of months should be standing at the Old Bailey at my
trial. I couldn't just do that, my dear."
"What will you do for me? You are my friend;--ain't you?" The diamond
necklace was not a desirable possession in the eyes of Lord George
de Bruce Carruthers;--but Portray Castle, with its income, and
the fact that Lizzie Eustace was still a very young woman, was
desirable. Her prettiness too was not altogether thrown away on Lord
George,--though, as he was wont to say to himself, he was too old now
to sacrifice much for such a toy as that. Something he must do,--if
only because of the knowledge which had come to him. He could not go
away and leave her, and neither say nor do anything in the matter.
And he could not betray her to the police. "You will not desert me!"
she said, taking hold of his hand, and kissing it as a suppliant.
He passed his arm round her waist, but more as though she were a
child than a woman, as he stood thinking. Of all the affairs in which
he had ever been engaged, it was the most difficult. She submitted
to his embrace, and leaned upon his shoulder, and looked up into his
face. If he would only tell her that he loved her, then he would
be bound to her,--then must he share with her the burthen of the
diamonds,--then must he be true to her. "George!" she said, and burst
into a low suppressed wailing, with her face hidden upon his arm.
"That's all very well," said he, still holding her,--for she was
pleasant to hold,--"but what the d---- is a fellow to do? I don't
see my way out of it. I think you'd better go to Camperdown, and
give them up to him, and tell him the truth." Then she sobbed more
violently than before, till her quick ear caught the sound of a
footstep on the stairs, and in a moment she was out of his arms and
seated on the sofa, with hardly a trace of tears in her eyes. It was
the footman, who desired to know whether Lady Eustace would want the
carriage that afternoon. Lady Eustace, with her cheeriest voice, sent
her love to Mrs. Carbuncle, and her assurance that she would not
want the carriage before the evening. "I don't know that you can do
anything else," continued Lord George, "except just give them up and
brazen it out. I don't suppose they'd prosecute you."
"Prosecute me!" ejaculated Lizzie.
"For perjury, I mean."
"And what could they do to me?"
"Oh, I don't know. Lock you up for five years, perhaps."
"Because I had my own necklace under the pillow in my own room?"
"Think of all the trouble you've given."
"I'll never give them up to Mr. Camperdown. They are mine;--my very
own. My cousin, Mr. Greystock, who is much more of a lawyer than Mr.
Camperdown, says so. Oh, George, do think of something! Don't tell me
that I must give them up! Wouldn't Mr. Benjamin buy them?"
"Yes;--for half nothing; and then go and tell the whole story and get
money from the other side. You can't trust Benjamin."
"But I can trust you." She clung to him and implored him, and did
get from him a renewed promise that he would not reveal her secret.
She wanted him to take the terrible packet from her there and then,
and use his own judgment in disposing of it. But this he positively
refused to do. He protested that they were safer with her than they
could be with him. He explained to her that if they were found in his
hands, his offence in having them in his possession would be much
greater than hers. They were her own,--as she was ever so ready to
assert; or if not her own, the ownership was so doubtful that she
could not be accused of having stolen them. And then he needed to
consider it all,--to sleep upon it,--before he could make up his mind
what he would do.
But there was one other trouble on her mind as to which he was called
upon to give her counsel before he was allowed to leave her. She had
told the detective officer that she would submit her boxes and desks
to be searched if her cousin Frank should advise it. If the policeman
were to return with her cousin while the diamonds were still in her
desk, what should she do? He might come at any time; and then she
would be bound to obey him. "And he thinks that they were stolen at
Carlisle?" asked Lord George. "Of course he thinks so," said Lizzie,
almost indignantly. "They would never ask to search your person,"
suggested Lord George. Lizzie could not say. She had simply declared
that she would be guided by her cousin. "Have them about you when he
comes. Don't take them out with you; but keep them in your pocket
while you are in the house during the day. They will hardly bring a
woman with them to search you."
"But there was a woman with the man when he came before."
"Then you must refuse in spite of your cousin. Show yourself angry
with him and with everybody. Swear that you did not intend to submit
yourself to such indignity as that. They can't do it without a
magistrate's order, unless you permit it. I don't suppose they will
come at all; and if they do they will only look at your clothes and
your boxes. If they ask to do more, be stout with them and refuse. Of
course they'll suspect you, but they do that already. And your cousin
will suspect you;--but you must put up with that. It will be very
bad;--but I see nothing better. But, of all things, say nothing of
me."
"Oh, no," said Lizzie, promising to be obedient to him. And then he
took his leave of her. "You will be true to me;--will you not?" she
said, still clinging to his arm. He promised her that he would. "Oh,
George," she said, "I have no friend now but you. You will care for
me?" He took her in his arms and kissed her, and promised her that he
would care for her. How was he to save himself from doing so? When he
was gone, Lizzie sat down to think of it all, and felt sure that at
last she had found her Corsair.