THE FRAME OF THE PICTURE
After the first passionate outburst of scorn Lord Littimer looked at his
visitor quietly. There was something almost amusing in the idea that Bell
should attempt such a trick upon him. And the listener was thoroughly
enjoying the scene now. There was quite an element of the farcical about
it. In the brilliant light she could see Littimer's dark, bitter face and
the helpless amazement on the strong features of Hatherly Bell. And,
meanwhile, the man who had brought the impossible situation about was
calmly sleeping after his strenuous exertions.
Chris smiled to herself as she thought out her brilliant _coup_. It
looked to her nothing less than a stroke of genius, two strokes, in fact,
as will be seen presently. Before many hours were over Henson's position
in the house would be seriously weakened. He had done a clever thing, but
Chris saw her way to a cleverer one still.
Meanwhile the two men were regarding one another suspiciously. On a round
Chippendale table the offending Rembrandt lay between them.
"I confess," Bell said, at length, "I confess that I am utterly taken by
surprise. And yet I need not be so astonished when I come to think of the
amazing cunning and audacity of my antagonist. He has more foresight than
myself. Lord Littimer, will you be so kind as to repeat your last
observation over again?"
"I will emphasize it, if you like?" Littimer replied. "For some deep
purpose of your own, you desired to make friends with me again. You tell
me you are in a position to clear your character. Very foolishly I
consent to see you. You come here with a roll of paper in your possession
purporting to be a second copy of my famous print. All the time you knew
it to be mine--mine, stolen an hour or two ago and passed instantly to
you. Could audacity go farther? And then you ask me to believe that you
came down from town with a second engraving in your possession."
"As I hope to be saved, I swear it!" Bell cried.
"Of course you do. A man with your temerity would swear anything.
Credulous as I may be, I am not credulous enough to believe that _my_
picture would be stolen again at the very time that you found _yours_."
"Abstracted by my enemy on purpose to land me in this mess."
"Ridiculous," Littimer cried. "Pshaw, I am a fool to stand here arguing;
I am a fool to let you stay in the house. Why, I don't believe you could
bring a solitary witness to prove that yonder picture was yours."
"You are mistaken, my lord. I could bring several."
"Credible witnesses? Witnesses whose characters would bear
investigation?"
"I fancy so," Bell said, quietly. "Two nights ago, for instance, I showed
the very picture lying before you to a lady of your acquaintance, Miss
Enid Henson. I couldn't have had _your_ picture two nights ago, could I?
And Miss Henson was graciously pleased to observe that I had been made
the victim of a vile conspiracy."
"Why do you insult me by mentioning that name?" Littimer said, hoarsely.
His face was very pale, and sombre anger smouldered in his eyes. "Tell me
you showed the thing to my wife next."
"I did," said Bell, coolly. "Lady Littimer was in the room at the time."
Something like a groan escaped from Littimer's pallid lips. The
smouldering light in his eyes flashed into flame. He advanced upon Bell
with a quivering, uplifted arm. Chris slipped swiftly out of the shade
and stood between the two men.
"Dr. Bell speaks the truth," she said. "And I am going to prove it."
Littimer dropped into a chair and gave way to silent laughter. His mood
had changed utterly. He lounged there, a cynical, amused man of the
world again.
"Upon my word, I am vastly obliged to you for your comedy," he said. "I
hope your salary as leading lady in Bell's company is a handsome one,
Miss Lee."
"Let us hope that it is more handsome than your manners, my lord," Chris
said, tartly. "I beg to remark that I have never seen Dr. Bell before.
Oh, yes, I have been listening to your conversation, because I expected
something of the kind. The Rembrandt was stolen some time before Dr. Bell
arrived here, and in due course I shall show you the thief. Lord
Littimer, I implore you to be silent and discreet in this matter. Have a
little patience. Quite by accident I have made an important discovery,
but this is hardly the place to discuss it. Before daylight I hope to be
able to prove beyond question that you have greatly wronged Dr. Bell."
"I shall be glad to be convinced of it," Littimer said, sincerely. "But
why this secrecy?"
"Secrecy is absolutely necessary for the conviction of the thief."
Bell looked eagerly at the speaker.
"I have not the remotest notion who this young lady is," he said, "but I
am greatly obliged to her."
"My secretary, Miss Lee," Littimer murmured; "an American from Boston,
and evidently a great deal cleverer than I gave her credit for, which
is saying a great deal. Miss Lee, if you know anything, I implore you
to speak."
"Not here," Chris said, firmly. "Stone walls have ears. I tell you the
Rembrandt was stolen just before Dr. Bell reached the house. Also I tell
you it is imperative that nobody but ourselves must know the fact for the
present. You trust me, Lord Littimer?"
"I trust you as implicitly as I do anybody."
Chris smiled at the diplomatic response. She approached the panel of the
wall on which the Rembrandt had been fastened. She indicated the long
steel stays which had been clamped on to the iron frame. "Look at them,"
she said. "It was my suggestion that the stays should be attached to the
frame to prevent anything like this robbery. I made the stays secure
myself. And what happened to justify my prudence? Why, the very same
night somebody came here after the picture."
"Henson!" Littimer cried. "Ah! But he could have come openly."
"It is not in the nature of the man to do things openly," Chris went on.
"I know more about the man than you imagine, but that you are to keep to
yourself. He comes here in the dead of the night and he gets into the
house through an upstair window. A man of his bulk, if you please! And
he comes here hot-foot and breathless at a time when common prudence
should have kept him in bed. Why? Because he knows that Dr. Bell has the
other Rembrandt and will come to prove it, and because he knows that if
he can steal the Littimer Rembrandt he can precipitate the very impasse
that he has brought about. But he could not steal the picture because it
was fast."
"You are a very clever young lady," Littimer said, drily. "You will tell
me next that you expected Henson to try this thing on."
"I did," Chris said, coolly. "I had a telegram to warn me so."
Littimer smiled. All this mystery and cleverness was after his own heart.
He lighted his cigarette and tendered his case in the friendliest
possible manner to Bell.
"Go on," he said, "I am deeply interested."
"I prefer not to go into details," Chris resumed. "All I ask you to do is
to be entirely guided by me when you have heard my story. I have admitted
to you that I knew when Henson was coming, and why am I interested?
Because it happens that Reginald Henson has greatly injured someone I
cared for deeply. Well, I fastened up the picture--he came. He sneaked in
like the thief that he was because his accomplice and tool had failed to
save him the trouble. Lord Littimer, I will not pain you by saying who
Henson's accomplice was."
Littimer nodded gloomily.
"Not that I blame that accomplice; he could not help himself. Ah, when
the whole truth comes to be told, what a black business it will be. Well,
Henson came to steal the picture and I caught him in the act. If you had
seen his fat, greasy, crestfallen face! Then he pretended that it was all
done for a jest and as a warning to Lord Littimer. And Lord Littimer, the
most cynical of men, allowed it to pass."
"I couldn't see what he had to gain," Littimer pleaded. "I don't now, as
a matter of fact."
"Neither will you for the present," said Chris. "Still, you will be so
good as to assume the same hospitality and courtesy towards Henson as you
extend at present."
"I daresay I can manage it," said Littimer, cynically. "I used to be a
society man once."
"Henson did not deceive me for a moment," Chris went on. "He was bound to
have the picture, and, being baffled one way, he tried another. Look
here, Lord Littimer. Let me assume for a moment that Dr. Bell came down
here to steal your picture, get rid of the frame, and palm off your own
engraving for another. Now, in the name of common sense, let me ask you a
single question. Could Dr. Bell have possibly known that the frame of the
Rembrandt was securely fastened to the wall and that I had attached it
quite recently? And could he in the short time at his disposal have
procured the necessary tools to cut away the stays? Again, Dr. Bell can
prove, I suppose, exactly what time he left London to-day. No, we must
look farther for the thief."
"There is something else also we have to look for," said Dr. Bell. "And
that is the frame. You say it was of iron and consequently heavy. The
thief would discard the frame and roll up the print."
"That is a brilliant suggestion," said Chris, eagerly. "And if we only
had the frame I could set Lord Littimer's doubts to rest entirely. I
happen to know that the real thief came and went by the cliff under the
terrace. If the frame was thrown into the gorse, there it--"
"Might stay for ages," Littimer exclaimed. "By Jove, I'm just in the mood
to carry this business a stage or two farther before I go to bed. Bell,
there are two or three cycle lamps in the gun-room. You used to be a
pretty fearless climber. What do you say to a hunt round for an hour or
two whilst the house is quiet?"
Bell assented eagerly. Chris waited with what patience she could command
till daylight began to show faintly and redly in the east. Then she heard
the sound of voices outside, and Littimer and Bell staggered in carrying
the frame between them.
"Got it," Littimer exclaimed, with the triumphant exultation of a
schoolboy who has successfully looted a rare bird's-nest. "We found it
half-way down the cliff, hidden behind a patch of samphire. And it
doesn't seem to be any the worse for the adventure. Now, Miss Wiseacre,
seeing that we have the frame, perhaps you will fulfil your promise of
convincing me, once and for all, that yonder Rembrandt cannot possibly
belong to me."
"I am going to do so," Chris said, quietly. "You told me you had to cut
the margin of your print by an inch or so round to fit that quaint old
frame. So far as I can see, the print before you is quite intact. Now, if
it is too large for the frame--"
Littimer nodded eagerly. Bell fitted the dingy paper to the back of the
frame and smiled. There was an inch or more to spare all round. Nobody
spoke for a moment.
"You could make it smaller, but you couldn't make it bigger," Littimer
said. "Bell, when I have sufficiently recovered I'll make a humble and
abject apology to you. And now, wise woman from the West, what is the
next act in the play?"