CHAPTER XXII.

SEARCHING FOR THE DIAMONDS.

They went directly to Mrs. Tracy's room, where they found that lady in a

much higher fever of excitement than when she first discovered her loss.

All the household had assembled in the hall and in her room, except

Arthur, who sat in his library, occasionally stopping to listen to the

sound of the many voices, and to wonder why there was much noise.

Tom was there with his friend, Fred Raymond, anxiously awaiting the

arrival of Harold, whose face wore a look of wonder and perplexity which

deepened into utter amazement as Mrs. Tracy angrily demanded of him what

his business was in the hall on Wednesday morning when she saw him

sneaking through the door.

'Where had you been, and did you see my diamonds? Somebody has stolen

them,' she said, while Harold gazed at her in utter astonishment.

'Somebody stolen your diamonds!' he repeated, without the shadow of an

idea that she could in any way connect him with a theft; nor would the

idea have come to him at all, if Tom had not said to him with a sneer:

'Better own up, Hal, and restore the property. It is your easiest way

out of it.'

Then he comprehended, and had Tom knocked him senseless the effect could

not have been greater. With lips as white as ashes and fists tightly

clenched, he stood, shaking like a leaf and staring helplessly, first at

one and then at another, unable to speak until his eyes fell on Jerry,

whose face was a study. She had thrown her head forward and on one side,

and was looking intently at Tom Tracy, while her blue eyes flashed fire,

and her whole attitude was like that of a tiger ready to pounce upon its

prey. And when Harold said faintly, 'Ask Jerry; she knows,' she did

pounce upon Tom, not bodily, but with her tongue, pouring out her words

so rapidly and mingling with them so much German that it was almost

impossible to understand all she said.

'You miserable, good-for-nothing, nasty fellow,' she began. 'Do you dare

accuse Harold of stealing! Stealing! You, who are not fit to tie his

shoes! And do you want to know why he was here that morning? I can tell

you; but no, I won't tell _you_! I won't speak to you! I'll never speak

to you again; and if you try to kiss me as you did the other day,

I'll--I'll scratch out every single one of your eyes! _You_ twit Harold

for being poor, and call him a charity! What are you but a charity

yourself, I'd like to know! Is this your house? No, sir! It is Mr.

Arthur's! Everything is Mr. Arthur's, and if you don't quit being so

mean to Harold I'll tell him every single nasty thing I know about you!

Then see what he will do!'

As Jerry warmed with her subject, every look, every gesture, and every

tone of her voice was like Arthur's, and Frank watched with a

fascination which made him forget everything else, until she turned

suddenly to him, and in her own peculiar style and language told him why

Harold had come to the park house that morning when the diamonds were

missing.

'I advised him to come,' she said, with all the air of a grown woman,

'and I said I'd stand by him, and I will, forever and ever, amen!'

The words dropped from her lips the more maturely, perhaps, because she

had used them once before with reference to the humiliated boy, to whose

pale, set face there came a smile as he heard them again, and stretching

out his hand he laid it on Jerry's curly head with a caressing motion

which told plainer than words could have done of his affection for and

trust in her.

What more Jerry might have said was prevented by the appearance of a new

actor upon the scene in the person of Arthur himself. He had borne the

noise and confusion as long as he could, and then had rung for Charles

to enquire what it meant. But Charles was too much absorbed with other

matters to heed the bell, though it rang three times sharply and loudly.

At last, as no one came, and the bustle outside grew louder, and Jerry's

voice was distinctly heard, excited and angry, Arthur started to see for

himself what had happened.

'Oh, Mr. Arthur,' Jerry cried, as she caught sight of him coming down

the hall, 'I was just going after you, to come and turn Tom out of

doors, and everybody else who says that Harold took Mrs. Tracy's

diamonds. She has lost them, and Tom--'

But here she was interrupted by Tom himself, who, always afraid of his

uncle, and now more afraid than ever because of the fiery gleam in his

eyes, stammered out that he had not accused Harold, nor any one; that he

only knew the diamonds were gone and could not have gone without help.

'Do you mean those stones your mother flashed in my eyes that night?

Serves her right if she has lost them,' Arthur said, without manifesting

the slightest interest or concern in the matter.

But when Jerry began her story, which she told rapidly in German, he

became excited at once, and his manner was that of a maniac, as he

turned fiercely upon Tom, denouncing him as a coward and a liar, and

threatening to turn him out of the house if he dared harbor such a

suspicion against Harold Hastings.

'I'll turn you all into the street,' he continued, 'if you are not

careful, and bring Harold and Jerry here to live; then see if I can have

peace. Diamonds, indeed! what has a poor man's wife to do with

diamonds? Gretchen's diamonds, too! If they are lost, search the house,

but never accuse Harold again.'

At this paint Arthur wandered off into German, which no one could

understand except Jerry, who stood, holding fast to his arm, her face

flushed and triumphant at Harold's victory and Tom's defeat; but as the

tirade in German went on, she started suddenly forward, and with clasped

hands and staring eyes stood confronting Arthur until he had ceased

speaking, and with a wave of his hand signified that he was through and

his audience dismissed. Jerry, however, did not move, but stood

regarding him with a frightened, questioning expression in her face,

which was lost upon the spectators, who were too much interested in the

all-absorbing topic to notice anyone particularly.

Tom was the first to go away, and his example was followed by all the

servants, except Charles, who succeeded in getting his master back to

his room and quieting him somewhat, though he kept talking to himself of

diamonds, and Paris, and Gretchen, who, he said, should not he wronged.

'I am sorry, Harold, that this thing has happened. I have no idea that

you know anything of the matter. I would as soon suspect my own son,'

Frank said to Harold, as he was leaving the house.

With this grain of comfort, the boy went slowly home, humiliated and cut

to the heart with the indignity put upon him; while Jerry walked

silently at his side, never speaking a word until they were nearly home,

when she said, suddenly:

'I know where the diamonds are, but I shan't tell now while there is

such a fuss;' but Harold was too much absorbed in his own thoughts to

pay much attention to the remark, although it recurred to him years

after, when the diamonds came up to confront him again.

It did not take long for the whole town to know of Mrs. Tracy's loss.

The papers were full of it. The neighbors talked of it constantly, and

two detectives were employed to work the matter up and discover the

thief, if possible. A thorough search was also made at the park house.

Every servant was examined and cross-examined, and all their trunks and

boxes searched; every nook and corner and room was gone through in the

most systematic order, even to Arthur's apartments. This last was

merely done as a matter of form, and to let the indignant servant see

that no partiality was shown, the polite officers explained to Arthur,

who at first refused to let them in, but who finally opened the door

himself, and bade them go where they liked.

Half hidden among the cushions of the sofa from which Arthur had arisen

when he let the officers in and to which he returned again, was Jerry,

her face pale to her lips and her eyes like the eyes of some haunted

animal, when she saw the policemen cross the threshold.

After her return home the previous day she had been unusually taciturn

and had taken no part in the conversation relative to the missing

diamonds, but just before going to bed she said to Harold:

'What will they do with the one who took the diamonds, if they find

him?'

'Send him to state prison,' Harold answered.

'And what do they do to them in state prison?' Jerry continued.

'Cut their hair off; make them eat bread and water and mush, and sleep

on a board, and work awful hard,' was Harold's reply, given at random

and without the least suspicion why the question had been asked.

Jerry said no more, but the next morning she started for the park house,

which she knew was to be searched, and going to Mr. Arthur's room looked

him wistfully in the face as she asked in a whisper:

'Are they found?'

'Found! What found?' he said, as if all recollection of the missing

jewels had passed entirely from his mind.

'The diamonds; Mrs. Tracy's diamonds; the ones you gave her,' was

Jerry's answer.

For a moment, Arthur looked perplexed and bewildered and confused, and

seemed trying to recall something which would not come at his bidding.

'I don't know anything about it,' he said at last. 'I don't seem to

think of anything, my head is so thick with all the noise there was here

yesterday and the tumult this morning. Search-warrants, Charles says,

and two strange men driving up so early. Who are they, Jerry?'

'Police, come to search the house; search everybody and everything.

Ain't you afraid?' Jerry said.

'Afraid? No: why should I be afraid? Why, child, how white you are, and

what makes you tremble so? You didn't take the diamonds,' was Arthur's

response, as he drew the little girl close to him and looked into her

pallid face.

'Mr. Arthur,' Jerry began, very low, as if afraid of being heard, 'if I

should give Maude something for her very own, and she should accept and

keep it a good while, and then some day I should take it from her, when

she did not know it, and hide it, and not give it up, would that be

stealing?'

'Certainly. Why do you ask?'

Jerry did not say why she asked, but put the same question to him she

had put to Harold:

'If they find the one who took the diamonds will they send him to state

prison?'

'Undoubtedly. They ought to.'

'And cut off his hair?'

She was threading Arthur's luxuriant locks caressingly, and almost

pityingly, with her fingers as she asked the last question, to which he

replied, shortly:

'Yes.'

'And make him eat bread and water and mush?'

'Yes; I believe so.'

'And sleep on a board?'

'Yes, or something as bad.'

'And make him work awful hard until his hands are blistered?'

Now she had in hers Arthur's hands, soft and white as a woman's, and

seemed to be calculating how much hard work it would take to blister

hands like these.

'Yes, work till his hands drop off,' Arthur said.

With a shudder, she continued:

'I could not bear it: could you?'

'Bear it? No; I should die in a week. Why, what does ail you? You are

shaking like a leaf. What are you afraid of?'

'I don't know; only state prison seems so terrible, and they are looking

everywhere. What if they should come in here?'

'Come in here? Impossible, unless they break the door down,' Arthur

replied; and then Jerry said to him:

'If they do, suppose you lie down and let me cover you with the afghan

and cushions?'

'But I don't want to lie down and be smothered with cushions,' Arthur

returned, puzzled, and wondering at the excitement of the child, who

nestled close to his side and held fast to his hand, as if she were

guarding him, or expected him to guard her, while the examination went

on outside, and the frightened and angry servants submitted to having

their boxes and trunks examined.

At last footsteps were heard on the stairs and the sound of strange

voices, mingled with that of Frank, who was protesting against his

brother's rooms being entered.

'You will lose every servant you have if we do not serve all alike,' was

the answer.

Then Frank knocked at his brother's door and asked admittance.

'We must do it to pacify the servants,' he said, as Arthur refused,

bidding him go about him business.

After a little further expostulation Arthur arose, and, unlocking the

door, bade them enter and look as long as they pleased and where they

pleased.

It was a mere matter of form, for not a drawer or box was disturbed; but

Jerry's breath came in gasps, and her eyes were like saucers, as she

watched the men moving from place to place, and then looked timidly at

Arthur to see how he was taking it. He took it very coolly, and when it

was over and the men were about to leave, he bade them come again as

often as they liked; they would always find him there ready to receive

them, but the diamonds--_nix_.

This last he said in a low tone as he turned to Jerry, who, the moment

they were alone and he had seated himself beside her, put her head on

his arm and burst into a hysterical fit of crying.

'Why, Cherry, what is it? Why are you crying so?' he asked, in much

concern.

'Oh, I don't know,' the sobbed; 'only I was so scared all the time they

were in the room. What if they had found them! What if they should think

that--that--_I_ took them, and should send me to prison, and cut off my

hair: and make me eat bread and water and mush, which I hate!'

Arthur looked at her a moment, and then with a view to comfort her,

said, laughingly:

'They would not send you to prison, for I would go in your stead.'

'Would you? Could you? I mean could somebody go for another somebody, if

they wanted to ever go much?' Jerry asked, eagerly, as she lifted her

tear-stained face to Arthur's.

Without clearly understanding her meaning, and with only a wish to quiet

her, Arthur answered, at random:

'Certainly. Have you never heard of people who gave life for another's?

So, why not be a substitute, and go to prison, if necessary?'

'Yes,' Jerry answered, with a long-drawn breath, and the cloud lifted a

little from her face.

After a moment, however, she asked, abruptly:

'Suppose the one who took the diamonds will not give them up, and

somebody else knows where they are, ought that somebody else tell?'

'Certainly, or be an accessory to the crime,' was Arthur's reply.

Jerry did not at all know what an accessory was, but it had an awful

sound to her, and she asked:

'What do they do to an accessory? Punish her--him, I mean--just the

same?'

'Yes, of course,' Arthur said, scarcely heeding what she was asking him,

and never dreaming of the wild fancy which had taken possession of her.

That one could go to prison in another's stead, and that an accessory

would be punished equally with the criminal, were the two ideas distinct

in her mind when she at last arose to go, saying to Arthur, as she stood

in the door:

'You are sure you are not afraid to have them come here again, if they

take it into their heads to do so?'

'Not in the least; they can search my rooms every day and welcome, if

they like,' was Arthur's reply.

'Well, that beats me!' Jerry said aloud to herself, with a nod for every

word, as she went down the stairs and started for home, taking the Tramp

House on her way. 'I guess I'll go in there and think about it,' she

said, and entering the deserted building, she sat down upon the bench

and began to wonder if she _could do it_, if worst came to worst, as it

might.

'Yes, I could for him, and I'll never tell; I'll be that thing he said,

and a substitute, too, if I can,' she thought, 'though I guess it would

kill me. Oh, I hope I shan't have to do it! I mean to say a prayer about

it, anyway.'

And kneeling down in the damp, dark room, Jerry prayed, first, that it

might never be found out, and second, that if it were she might not be

called to account as an accessory, but might have the courage to be the

substitute, and stand by him forever and ever, amen!'

'I may as well begin to practice, and see if I can bear it,' she

thought, as she walked slowly home, where she astonished Mrs. Crawford

by asking her to make some mush for dinner.

'Mush! Why, child, I thought you hated it' Mrs. Crawford exclaimed.

'I did hate it,' Jerry replied, 'but I want it now real bad. Make it for

me, please. Harold likes it, don't you, Hally?'

Harold did like it very much; and so the mush was made, and Jerry forced

herself to swallow it in great gulps, and made up her mind that she

could not stand that any way. She preferred bread and water. So, for

supper she took bread and water and nothing else, and went up to bed us

unhappy and nervous as a healthy, growing child well could be.

She had tried the mush, and the bread and water, and now she meant to

try the shorn head, which was the hardest of all, for she had a pride in

her hair, which so many had told her was beautiful.

Standing before her little glass, with the lamp beside her, she looked

at it admiringly for a while, turning her head from side to side to see

the bright ringlets glisten; then, with an unsteady hand the severed,

one by one, the shining tresses, on which her tears fell like rain as

she gathered them in a paper and put them away, wondering if the prison

shears would cut closer or shorter, and wondering if it would make any

difference that she was only a substitute, or at most an accessory.

It was a strange idea which had taken possession of her, and a senseless

one, but it was terribly real to her, and that little shorn head

represented as noble and complete a sacrifice as was ever made by older

and wiser people. There was no hard board to sleep upon, and so she took

the floor, with a pillow under her head and a blanket over her,

wondering the while if this were not a more luxurious couch than

convicts, who had stolen diamonds, were accustomed to have.

'Why, Jerry, what have you done?' and 'Oh, Jerry, how you look!' were

the ejaculatory remarks which greeted her next morning, when she went

down to her breakfast of bread and water, for she would take nothing

else.

'Why did you do it?' Mrs. Crawford asked a little angry and a good deal

astonished; but Jerry only answered at first with her tears, as Harold

jeered at her forlorn appearance and called her a picked chicken.

'Maude's hair is short, and all the girls', and mine was always in my

eyes and snarled awfully,' she said at last, and this was all the excuse

she would give for what she had done; while for her persisting in a

bread and water diet she would give no reason for three or four days.

Then she said to Harold, suddenly:

'You told me that the one who stole the diamonds would have to eat bread

and water and have his head shaved, and I am trying to see how it would

seem--am playing that I am the man, and in prison; but I find it very

hard, I don't believe I can stand it. Oh, Harold, do you think they will

ever find the diamonds? I am so tired and hungry, and the blackberry pie

we had for dinner did look so good!'

'Jerry,' Harold exclaimed, in amazement, and but dimly comprehending her

real meaning, 'you are crazy, to be playing you are a convict! And is

that what you have been doing?'

'Ye-es,' Jerry sobbed; 'but I can't bear it, and I hope they will not

find him,'

'Him! Who?' Harold asked.

'The one who took the diamonds,' she replied.

'And I hope they will. He ought to be found and punished. Think what

harm he has done to me by letting them accuse me,' Harold answered,

indignantly.

'No, no, Hally,' Jerry replied. 'No one accused you but Tom, and he is

meaner than dirt; and if they did think you took them, and if you had to

go, I should not let you; I should go in your place. I could do it for

you and Mr. Arthur, but for no one else. Oh, I hope they will never find

them.'

She put her hands to her head, and looked so white and faint that

Harold was alarmed, and took her at once to his mother, who, scarcely

less frightened than himself, made her lie down, and brought her a piece

of toast and a cup of milk, which revived her a little. But the strain

upon her nerves for the last few days, and the fasting on bread and

water proved too much for the child, who for a week or more lay up in

her little room, burning with fever, and talking strange things at

intervals, of diamonds, and state prison, and accessories, and

substitutes, the last of which she said she was, assuring some one to

whom she seemed to be talking that she would never tell, never!

Every day Arthur came and sat for an hour by her bed, and held her hot

hands in his, and listened to her talk, and marvelled at her shorn head,

which he did not like. Whatever he said to her was spoken in German, and

as she answered in the same tongue, no one understood what they said to

each other, though Harold, who understood a few German words, knew that

she was talking of the diamonds, and the prison, and the substitute.

'I shall _never_ tell!' she said to Arthur, 'and I shall go! I can bear

it better than you. It is not that which makes my headache so. It's--oh,

Mr. Arthur, I thought you so good, and I am so sorry about the

diamonds--Mrs. Tracy was so proud of them. Can't you contrive to get

them back to her? I could, if you would let me. I am thinking all the

time how to do it, and never let her know, and the back of my head aches

so when I think.'

Arthur could not guess what she really meant, except that the lost

diamonds troubled her, and that she wished Mrs. Tracy to have them.

Occasionally his brows would knit together, and he seemed trying to

recall something which perplexed him, and which her words had evidently

suggested to his mind.

'Cherry,' he said to her one day when he came as usual, and her first

eager question was, 'Have they found them?' 'Jerry, try and understand

me. Do you know where the diamonds are?'

Instantly into Jerry's eyes there came a scared look, but she answered,

unhesitatingly:

'Yes, don't you?'

'No,' was the prompt reply; 'though it seems to me I did know, but there

has been so much talk about them, and you are so sick, that everything

has gone from my head, and the bees are stinging me frightfully. Where

are the diamonds?'

But by this time Jerry was in the prison, sleeping on a board and eating

bread and mush, and Arthur failed to get any satisfaction from her.

Indeed, they were two crazy ones talking together, with little or no

meaning in what they said. Only this Arthur gathered--that Jerry would

be happy if 'Mrs. Tracy had her diamonds again and did not know how they

came to her. When this dawned upon him he laughed aloud, and kissing her

hot cheek, said to her:

'I see; I know, and I'll do it. Wait till I come again.

It was ten o'clock in the morning when he left Mrs. Crawford's house;

there was a train which passed the station at half-past ten, bound for

New York, and without returning to the park, Arthur took the train,

sending word to his brother not to expect him home until the next day,

and not to be alarmed on his account, as he was going to New York and

would take care of himself.

Why he had gone Frank could not guess, and he waited in much anxiety for

his return. It was evening when he came home, seeming perfectly composed

and well, but giving no reason for his sudden journey to the city. His

first inquiry was for Jerry, and his second, if anything had been heard

of the diamonds. On being answered in the negative, he remarked:

'Those rascally detectives are bunglers, and oftentimes would rather let

the culprit escape than catch him. I doubt if you ever see the jewels

again. But no matter; it will all come right. Tell your wife not to

fret,'

The next morning when Mrs. Tracy went to her room after breakfast she

was astonished to find upon her dressing bureau a velvet box with

Tiffany's name upon it, and inside an exquisite set of diamonds; not as

fine as those she had lost, or quite as large, but white, and clear, and

sparkling as she took them in her hand with a cry of delight, and ran

with them to her husband. Both knew from whence they came, and both went

at once to Arthur, who, to his sister-in-law's profuse expressions of

gratitude, replied indifferently:

'Don't bother me with thanks; it worries me. I bought them to please

the little girl, who talks about them all the time. She will yet well

now, I am going to tell her.'

He found Jerry better, and perfectly sane. She was very glad to see him,

though she seemed somewhat constrained, and shrank from him a little,

when he sat down beside her. Her first rational question had been for

him, and her second for the diamonds; were they found, and if not, were

they still looking for them.

'No, they have not found them,' Harold had said, 'and the officers are

still hunting for the thief, while the papers are full of the reward

offered to any one who will return them. Five hundred dollars now, for

Mr. Arthur has added two hundred to the first sum. He has quite waked up

to the matter. You know he seemed very indifferent at first.'

'Mr. Arthur offered two hundred more!' Jerry exclaimed. 'Well, that

beats me!'

This was Mrs. Crawford's favorite expression, which Jerry had caught, as

she did most of the peculiarities in speech and manner of those about

her.

'Two hundred dollars! He must be crazy.'

'Of course he is. He don't know what he does or says half the time, and

especially since you have been sick,' Harold said.

'Sick!' Jerry repeated, quickly. 'Have I been sick, and is that why I am

in bed so late? I thought you had come in to wake me up, and I was glad,

for I have had horrid dreams.'

Harold told her she had been in bed since the day of the investigation,

when she came from the park house with a dreadful headache.

'And you've been crazy, too, as a loon,' he continued, 'and talked the

queerest things about state prison, and hard boards, and bread and

water, and accessories, and substitutes, and so on. Seemed as if you

thought you were a felon, and a body would have supposed that you had

either taken the diamonds yourself or else knew who did, the way you

went on by spells.'

'Oh, Harold!' Jerry gasped, while her face grew spotted and the

perspiration came out upon her forehead. 'Did I speak anybody's name?'

'No,' Harold replied. 'I could not make you do that. I asked you ever

so many times if you knew who took the diamonds, and you said "Yes," but

when I asked who it was, you always answered, "Don't you wish you knew?"

and that was all I could get out of you. Mr. Arthur was here every day,

and sometimes twice a day, but you spoke German to him. Still I knew it

was about the diamonds, for I understood that word. He was not here

yesterday at all. There, hark! I do believe he is coming now. Don't you

know who is said to be near when you are talking about him?'

And, with a laugh, Harold left the room just as Arthur entered it.

'Well, Cherry,' he said to her, as he drew a chair to her bedside, 'Mrs.

Crawford tells me the bees are out of your head this morning, and I am

glad. I have some good news for you. Mrs. Tracy has some diamonds, and

is the happiest woman in town.'

Jerry had not noticed his exact words, and only understood that Mrs.

Tracy had found her diamonds.

'Oh, Mr. Arthur, I am so glad!' the cried; and springing up in bed, she

threw both arms around his neck and held him fast, while she sobbed

hysterically.

'There, there, child! Cherry, let go. You throttle me. You are pulling

my neck-tie all askew, and my head spins like a top,' Arthur said, as he

unclasped the clinging arms and put the little girl back upon her

pillow, where she lay for a moment, pale and exhausted, with the light

of a great joy shining in her eyes.

'Did she know where they came from? how did you manage it? Are you sure

she did not suspect!' she asked.

'I put them on her dressing-bureau while she was at breakfast,' he

replied, 'and when she came up there they were--large solitaire

ear-rings and a bar with five stones, not quite as large or as fine as

the ones she lost, but the best I could find at Tiffany's. Why, Jerry,

what is the matter? You do not look glad a bit. I thought you wanted me

to give them to her surreptitiously, and I did,' he continued, as the

expression of Jerry's face changed to one of blank dismay and

disappointment, and the tears gathered in her eyes.

'I did--I do,' she said; 'but I meant, not new ones, but her very

own--the ones you gave her.'

For a moment Arthur sat looking at her with a perplexed and troubled

expression, as if wondering what she could mean, and why he had so

utterly failed to please her; then he said, slowly:

'The ones I gave her? You make my head swim trying to remember, and the

bumble-bees are black-faced, instead of white, and stinging me

dreadfully. I wish you would say nothing more of the diamonds. It

worries me, and makes me feel as if I were in a nightmare, and I know

nothing of them.'

Raising herself on her elbow and pointing her finger toward him in a

half beseeching, half threatening way, Jerry said:

'As true as you live and breathe, and hope not to be hung and choked to

death, don't you know where they are?'

This was the oath which Jerry's companions were in the habit of

administering to each other in matters of doubt, and she now put it to

Arthur as the strongest she knew.

'Of course not,' he answered, with a little irritation in his tone.

'What ails you, Cherry? Are you crazy, like myself? Struggle against it.

Don't let the bees get into your brain and swarm and buzz until you

forget everything. You ought to remember; you do things you ought not to

do. It is terrible to be crazy and half conscious of it all the

time--conscious that no one believes what you say or holds you

responsible for what you do.'

'Don't they?' Jerry asked, eagerly, for she knew the meaning of the word

'responsible.' 'If a crazy man or woman took the diamonds, and then

forgot, and did not tell, and it was ever found out, wouldn't they be

punished?'

'Certainly not,' was the reassuring reply, 'Don't you know how many

murders are committed and the murderer is not hung, because they say he

is crazy?'

In a moment the cloud lifted from Jerry's face, which grew so bright

that Arthur noticed the change, and said to her:

'You are better now, I see, and I must go before I undo it all.

Good-bye, and never say diamonds to me again; it gets me all in a--m

a--well, a French pickle--mixed, you know.'

He kissed her tenderly, and promising to take her for a drive as soon as

she was able, went out and left her alone, wondering why it was that his

having given the diamonds to his sister-in-law had failed in its effect

upon her, and upon himself, too.

For a long time after he was gone Jerry lay thinking with her eyes

closed, so that if Harold or her grandmother came in they would think

her asleep. Mr. Arthur was certainly crazy at times--very crazy. She

could swear to that, and so could many others. And if a crazy man was

not responsible for his acts, then he was not, and the law would not

touch him; but with regard to the accessory, she was not sure. If that

individual were not crazy, why, then he or she might be punished; and as

the taste she had had of bread and water, and hard boards, in the shape

of the floor, was not very satisfactory, and as Mrs. Tracy had other

diamonds in the place of the lost ones, she finally determined to keep

her own counsel and never tell what she had heard Arthur say that

morning when the theft was discovered and he had talked so fast in

German to her and to himself. If she had known where the diamonds were

she might have managed to return them to their owner. But she did not

know, and her better course was to keep quiet, hoping that in time Mr.

Arthur himself would remember and make restitution; for that he had

forgotten and was sincere in saying that he knew nothing of them she was

certain, and her faith in him, which for a little time had been shaken,

was restored.

With this load lifted from her mind Jerry's recovery was rapid, and when

the autumnal suns were just beginning to tinge the woodbine on the Tramp

House and the maples in the park woods with scarlet, she took her

accustomed seat in Arthur's room and commenced her lessons again with

Maude, who had missed her sadly and who would have gone to see her every

day during her sickness if her mother had permitted it.

Tracy Park: A Novel · 第 22 / 53 章