Some years ago every one on the Diamond Fields had heard of Mr Smythe's
parcel of diamonds. Buyers, brokers, and diggers were constantly
talking of that wonderful collection of gems. No one had ever seen it,
and some persons refused to believe in it. Smythe would not be such a
fool, they said, as to keep a lot of money locked up in diamonds. But
those who knew most about Smythe believed in his diamonds; in fact, some
men knew of stones which he had added to his collection. In this case
rumour had exaggerated wonderfully little; for, as a matter of fact, Mr
Smythe's parcel existed, and was little less valuable than it was
reported to be. For some years the price of diamonds had been low, and
Smythe had determined to hold; but he did not keep ordinary stuff, only
picked stones of extraordinary quality. Whenever he bought a parcel, he
would select any perfect stone there might be in it, and ship the rest.
It was his opinion that diamonds would go up, and that he would realise
a great profit when he brought his wonderful parcel home. In the mean
time he could afford to be out of his money; for he was a fairly
prosperous man, as he had some claims in the mine that brought him in a
good deal, and had done very well diamond buying and digging. Though
Mr Smythe was a very good man of business, he was in his private life
by no means free from little weaknesses, and they were not all of them
amiable ones. It was harmless, if not commendable, for him to be very
careful of his get-up and appearance, and to dress with as much care on
the South African Diamond Fields as he would have done in Pall Mall. No
one would have any right to blame him for dyeing his twisted moustache
black, and making a very game struggle against the ravages of time; nor
did he hurt any one by his habit of continually bragging and boasting of
the position he held and the people he knew `at home'--for this is a
weakness common to many worthy and respectable dwellers in the distant
parts of our empire. But he had one failing which was rather
mischievous: although he was by no means a young man--for he was nearer
fifty than forty--he was as vain as a girl, or rather as a vain man, and
he was convinced that he was so attractive and fascinating that the
other sex found him irresistible. He loved to pose in the character of
a Don Juan, and though his past successes were his favourite topic of
conversation, he took care to let it be known that, if he cared, he
could continue these little histories up to the present time. In fact,
he had gained the reputation of being a man very dangerous to the
domestic peace of his neighbours, and he took no little pride and
pleasure in having such a reputation, and was careful to maintain it,
even sometimes by rather unjustly damaging the fair fame of some of the
ladies who had the privilege of his friendship.
It was his custom every year to vary the monotony of Diamond-Field life
by making a little visit to the coast; and, from the hints and
suggestions he would give when he came back, it would seem that when on
his travels he was always on the watch for an opportunity to get up the
flirtations he delighted in carrying on. It was on one of those trips
that he became acquainted with Captain and Mrs Hamilton. Captain
Hamilton was supposed to have lately sold out of the army, and, from
what he said, he seemed to be possessed of a nice little capital, which
he hoped to double in some colonial venture. He didn't care what he
went in for--farming, diamond-mining, gold-digging. He didn't care much
what it was, so long as it paid. Soldiering, he said, was a bad game
for a married man, and he intended to double his capital before he went
home; for England was no country for a man to live in who had not some
thousands a year. Mr Smythe did not at first take very kindly to the
Captain, who seemed a dullish, heavy sort of man, and cared to talk
about very little besides betting and sport. But Mrs Hamilton quite
made up for any defects in her husband. She was an extremely pretty
young woman, so young-looking that she might have been hardly out of her
teens, with a half-mischievous, half-demure manner, which our friend
found very fascinating; and it is needless to say that he came to the
conclusion that she had fallen in love with him; for it was his
idiosyncrasy to believe that he was irresistible with all women.
Certainly she was a woman whom any man might fall in love with--a
brown-haired, blue-eyed little thing, with a delightfully neat little
figure, and always becomingly dressed. "Begad, she's a devilish nice
little woman! I must persuade them to come up to Kimberley. Hamilton
would do well there, though he's a stupid oaf a fellow," said Mr Smythe
to himself, as he gave his moustache a twist, looking at himself in the
glass, and putting on a Mephistophelean grin on which he prided himself.
Accordingly he suggested it to Hamilton that he had better make his
home on the Diamond Fields, as it was the best place for a man of energy
and capital. Captain Hamilton at once fell into the trap which this
artful schemer had laid for him. "Dare say it was as good a place to go
to as any other," said he. It seemed to him it was a beastly country;
while Mrs Hamilton was so enthusiastic in persuading her husband, and
so anxious to go to the Fields, that Mr Smythe put the most flattering
inference on her support.
So it came about that Captain and Mrs Hamilton were Mr Smythe's
fellow-passengers from Capetown to the Diamond Fields, and, more or less
under his auspices, settled amongst the queer community who toil for
wealth in that land of dust and diamonds. They took one of those little
iron houses in one of the principal streets in Kimberley, in which at
that time the most prosperous citizens sweltered in the summer and
shivered in the winter. From their first arrival, we all took a good
deal of interest in the Hamiltons. It was never Mr Smythe's habit to
be over-careful not to compromise the ladies he admired; and there was
from the first a little scandal about Mrs Hamilton, and a good many
stories told about her. Captain Hamilton became a very interesting
person, when the fact that he was possessed of some little capital which
he wished to invest was well-known, and a good many plans were made for
his safely investing it. There was little Mo Abrahams, who came up to
him, and told him how a few thousands would turn the Victory Mine,
lately known as Fools Rush, into one of the grandest mining properties
in the world; and the Captain seemed to be much struck with the
advantages of the speculation, and thanked Mo for giving him such a
chance; but he did not settle to go in for it at once, though he freely
admitted that, in Mo's words, nothing could be fairer between man and
man than the terms suggested. "We must have another talk over it," he
said; and Mo went off rejoicing. After Mo went away, Bill Bowker, that
fine specimen of the rugged honest digger and pioneer of the Fields,
came up to the Captain, and, with much bad language, which it was his
rugged honest custom to use, asked him what that little Jew wanted.
"Excuse me, sir," he said, "but he be going to let you in with that
swindling mine of his. The place was salted before they washed up; and
I know where they first got the diamonds they found there. I don't like
to see a gentleman like you let in. Now, what you want to go in for is
digging in a established mine, not for a wild-cat speculation;" and the
rugged honest one went on to urge upon the Captain the advantage of
investing his money in some claims that were in that portion of the Du
Toits Pan Mine, which had somehow gained the name of the graveyard, on
account of so many persons having buried their fortunes there. Captain
Hamilton was very much obliged to his kind friend, though he said that
he refused to believe that Mo was not _bona fide_; "over sanguine,
perhaps, but means well," he said; "still, I think that what you mention
would just suit me. We must have another talk about it." Thus the
Captain for some time did not settle how he would embark his fortune,
but treated with every one who came to him, almost always entertaining
the highest opinion of the suggestions made to him. In the mean time,
the owners of valuable mining properties were constant in paying him the
greatest attention, and he was asked to share so many small bottles of
champagne that the bar-keepers looked upon him as a perfect godsend, and
dated the revival of prosperity on the Fields from his arrival. As the
Captain had a good deal of spare time on his hands, he was able to
indulge in some of the pastimes in which he excelled. After some little
time he was recognised as a very fine billiard-player. At first there
were one or two young men who thought they could beat him, and it was a
costly mistake for them; but the Captain explained he was only just
getting back his form, and so accounted for the great improvement which
could be noticed in his play, after he had got a little money on. At
cards he was very lucky: a fortunate whist-player, a good ecarte-player,
while he had wonderfully good luck, when several times he was persuaded,
protesting that it was not at all in his line, to sit down to a game of
poker. However, though his card and billiard playing did not lighten
his purse, they compelled him to neglect his wife more than was wise,
perhaps. Night after night, while Hamilton was at the club, the
dangerous Mr Smythe would be sitting smoking cigarettes in Jenny
Hamilton's little sitting-room.
Perhaps, though people did talk a good deal, there was not much harm in
it; and Jenny Hamilton, though she did look so young, was, perhaps,
pretty well able to take care of herself. Still, she became far more
confidential with her friend Mr Smythe than it was wise for a young
woman to be with such a very fascinating man. Certainly, when she told
him all her grievances against her husband--how he neglected her, and
was always at billiards or cards, leaving her all by herself, how he
drank too much, and was generally rather a disappointment--she was
taking a course which seemed rather indiscreet. But it was not only
about her own affairs she would talk; she took the greatest interest in
all he had to say about himself, and would listen to his stories of
English society with never-failing interest. She would encourage him to
read poetry to her, for, though his education had been rather commercial
than classical, he fancied that he could read well. "Ah," she would
say, "how nice it is to be fond of poetry and art! Now, Jack cares for
nothing but billiards, cards, sport, and drink; not even for me, I am
afraid." Then she would change the conversation, and talk about
Smythe's affairs. "Was it true," she would ask, "that he had such a
splendid collection of diamonds? She was so fond of seeing them.
Couldn't he show them to her?" Smythe made rather a favour of this, for
he said that no one had ever seen his diamonds! still, of course, he
would show them to Mrs Hamilton, only she must come down to the office
to see them. Mrs Hamilton didn't altogether like that; she would
sooner he brought the diamonds up to the house. However, she said she
was determined to see them, and she would constantly return to this
subject. On one occasion, when Mr Smythe called, he found Hamilton at
home instead of at the club, and so he did the next time after that;
and, rather to his annoyance, he found the Captain had taken to stop at
home. He used usually to sit in the verandah, smoking, paying very
little heed to his wife or her friend. Still, Mr Smythe found him a
good deal in the way, and began to look upon his presence in his own
house as little less than an intrusion.
"_Do_ you know that Jack is fearfully jealous of you?" said pretty Mrs
Hamilton to him one evening. "Some one has said something to him, and
since then he has never left me out of his sight."
"That's very stupid of him!" said Mr Smythe.
"Yes, it is very silly," she said; "but I'm afraid you're a dreadful
man! Anyhow, Jack thinks you are, for he has taken to stop at home all
day looking after me."
"When is he going to get something to do? If he had more work and less
drink he wouldn't take fancies into his head."
"I don't know," she answered. "I'm afraid he will go away to some other
place. Won't that be wretched?" she said.
"Wretched, my dear! of course it will," said Mr Smythe; and he would
have said a good deal more, only the smoke of his cigarette made Jenny
choke; and then her husband came into the room, scowled at his guest,
helped himself to some whiskey, and left it again.
"By the by," said Jenny, when he had gone, "I've never seen those
diamonds: now, you know, you promised I should."
"You must come to the office and see them," he said. "I don't like to
bring them up here, unless he's out, for I don't like any one to see
them but you."
"Yes, I know that it's a great privilege for me to see them, though I
don't know what harm it can do for a poor little woman like me to see
diamonds she can't hope ever to have; you must bring them up here, and
show them to me when he's out of the room."
"No, I can't do that; he is always in and out. You must come to the
office."
"You wretch," she said, "you want me to go to your office by myself, but
I won't; it wouldn't do at all. Besides, do you know, he never lets me
out of his sight for a minute; he hardly ever sleeps for long, and he
gets so fearfully violent, I think it's the whiskey he takes. Do you
know, the other day I thought he would strike me."
Mr Smythe was a good deal impressed with this information, and he
looked with no little awe at the culprit, who fidgeted in and out of the
room with no particular object. Though he despised the man, he felt a
good deal afraid of him. "By Jove," he thought to himself, "suppose he
took a fancy to go for me--the brute looks pretty strong!"
"If I was you," he said, "I'd give him a strong sleeping draught; he is
a misery to himself and every one else, like this."
"I only wish I could," she said. "He gets more nervous and cross every
evening; but he won't take anything."
"Well, I'd make him; I'd put a dose into his whiskey-and-water, which
would send him off fast enough. I'd tell you what to give."
For one second Jenny seemed to be thinking the matter over. Then she
answered,--
"Oh, I wish you would; I would--I'd do it to-morrow; and then you could
bring up the diamonds to show me, and we should be alone. Now, write
down the stuff I am to get."
Mr Smythe knew a little about doctoring, so he wrote out the quantities
of a drug on a leaf of his note-book, and gave it her.
"Now promise to bring up the diamonds to-morrow, and we will look at
them when we are alone and he is asleep."
"All right," he said; "but I don't think they will interest you, and I
hardly like bringing them out; but I can't refuse you anything, my
dear."
Just then Captain Hamilton came in again, and, as he seemed inclined to
stay, Mr Smythe took leave of his host and hostess, the latter giving
him a look which seemed to say "Don't forget."
"By gad, she is a plucky little woman, and dead gone on me! Why, I
believe, if I told her to, she'd put a drop of prussic acid in his
whiskey!" said Mr Smythe to himself, as he swaggered down to the club
from Hamilton's house.
That evening he was in very great force, and his anecdotes and epigrams
were unusually brilliant. Every one understood the point of what he
said, and knew to whom his hints referred; and his toadies told him that
he was a bad lot, a very bad lot, for they knew that this sort of
reproach was the most grateful flattery to him. "What an insufferable
cad that little brute is! hope he comes to grief soon," was the remark
of one man who probably didn't like him.
The next evening Mr Smythe opened his safe, and took out his parcel of
diamonds. After all there was no danger in taking them as far as the
Hamiltons' house, though they were so valuable, for the Hamiltons lived
in one of the principal streets in the town. It was rather a silly whim
of the little woman, he thought, being so set on seeing the diamonds;
but he knew enough of the sex to be aware that she was determined to
have it granted. The diamonds were in a large snuff-box. There were
about a hundred diamonds weighing from ten to fifty carats each, and
they were worth about 20,000 pounds. Something seemed to prompt him to
put the diamonds back into the safe; but on the Diamond Fields men get
used to the idea of carrying about stones of great value; and then he
thought of Jenny Hamilton's bewitching little face, so he put the
diamonds in his pocket, and started off for her house. The house stood
in what was called a garden, though very little grew there. On either
side it was only a few yards from the house next door. As Smythe walked
up to the door Jenny Hamilton came out to meet him.
"Hush!" she said, holding her hand up to her mouth; "he is asleep! I've
given it him; I put it into the whiskey-bottle, and he took it all."
She beckoned him to follow, and they both went indoors into the
sitting-room. From the next room they could hear the heavy breathing of
the Captain.
"Now, have you brought them?" she said.
"Yes; I've done what you told me to do," he answered. "Let me show you
them."
"Stop," she said first; "let me see if he is fast asleep." She went
into the next room and came back again. "He's fast asleep, poor old
boy," she said.
Smythe thought that he never had seen her look so pretty. She was
dressed very prettily; had a very brilliant colour on her cheeks, which
became her; and her eyes glittered with excitement. They sat down, and
he poured the diamonds out of the box on to a sheet of white paper,
which looked grey contrasted with some of them.
"And these diamonds are worth twenty thousand pounds! How good to bring
them!"
Smythe thought that he never had seen such a pretty little face as hers
was, as she looked at the diamonds with a longing glance; but he was
rather surprised when she looked up into his face and said, "Give them
to me." Of course he had no intention of doing any such thing; the idea
was simply absurd, considering their value. And Smythe didn't half like
this eccentricity of his pretty little friend; still she looked so
pretty that Smythe could not feel angry with her. Her face was close to
his--she was looking up at him; he stooped down and kissed her. Just
then he heard a step behind him, and as he turned round, his head struck
against something hard: it was the muzzle of a revolver, which Hamilton
was holding. Hamilton was wide awake, and there was a very ugly grin of
triumph in his face.
"Well, you're a nice young man, you are, to drop in friendly of an
evening! Hush! don't speak out loud, or I'll blow your brains out at
once," said the Captain.
Jenny Hamilton didn't seem to be one bit disconcerted. She had snatched
up the diamonds, and she was turning them over, watching their sheen
with evident pleasure. Mr Smythe, however, felt anything but at his
ease. The situation was a very strange one, for if he shouted out
"Murder!" he would be heard by his neighbours on both sides, who were
only separated from him by a few feet of open space and a few inches of
tin wall. One of them was a young diamond-buyer, with a taste for comic
singing, who had just returned from a trip home, and was entertaining
his friends with the cream of the melody of the London music-halls, and
as he stood shivering with fear, with the revolver held up to his head,
Smythe could hear the chorus of one of the songs of the day. He had
never cared less about comic singing. But though help was so near he
felt completely in the power of Hamilton, who looked very resolute and
reckless, and seemed to be quite in earnest.
Personal courage never was Mr Smythe's strong point, and now for a
minute he felt too startled to think; in fact, he only had sufficient
sense left to make him restrain his inclination to shout out for help.
After a second or two he began to feel more assured. It seemed so
unlikely that he should be murdered in the middle of the town, within
calling distance of several men; only the revolver was real enough.
When a man is holding a revolver up to your head, you have the worst of
the position. He mayn't care to shoot; but, on the other hard, he may;
and, whatever the ultimate consequences may be to him, the immediate
consequences to you are sure.
In a half-hearted way for one second Smythe thought of resisting, and he
made a movement with his hand towards his pocket.
"Keep your hands up; you'd better," said the other.
Smythe obeyed him, and sat holding his hand above his head, looking very
ridiculous.
"You'd better take that from him, Jen," said Hamilton; and Jenny
Hamilton put her hand into her dear friend's pocket and deftly eased him
of his revolver. A gleam of hope came into Mr Smythe's heart. After
all, he thought, people don't commit homicide without reason; and he saw
that he had not to deal with an outraged husband, but with a pair of
sharpers. He certainly began to wish that his diamonds were in his safe
at home; but he knew they were difficult property to deal with, and
hoped to get off without making any great sacrifice.
"What the devil do you mean by this, Captain Hamilton?" he said, trying
to put on an air of unconcern he didn't feel. "Surely it's a poor joke
to steal into your own drawing-room, and hold a revolver up to the head
of a man you find calling on your wife."
"I don't set up for being a good joker," said the Captain; "but my jokes
are eminently practical, as you'd learn if the police of London, New
York, and 'Frisco told you what they know of Jack Hamilton."
"Well, you'd better say what you hope to make out of this," said Mr
Smythe.
"I intend," said the Captain, "to make a job for the crowner's inquest
of you, and those diamonds for myself."
"Don't talk nonsense, man; you won't frighten me, I'm not so easily
fooled. Why, if I don't turn up, a dozen men will know where to look
for me; besides that, they will hear you shoot next door. Why, if you
shoot, you'd be hung."
"You've no call to bother your head about me. I can play this hand
without your advice," said the Captain. "See here: first I shoot you;
then Jen puts the diamonds away; then I give myself up to the police;
Jen confesses; I take my trial, like a man, and show that I shot you
because I found you here alone with my wife, after you'd got her to drug
my liquor. See here: the whiskey-bottle in the next room is drugged.
Jen has got the paper you wrote out. The chemist she got the stuff from
can be found, and you've taken care to let every one know what your game
is. What do you think a jury would do to me? You'd have to look a long
time before you'd get one who would find me guilty of murder. Hung!
why, I shall be looked upon as the vindicator of the sanctity of
domestic life. Guess they'd get up a testimonial for me."
Then Mr Smythe realised the awkward position in which he was placed.
The man seemed to be in earnest, and there was a determined look in his
cruel hard face which made Smythe believe that he dared do what he said;
and if he did, it was true that he would be in very little danger of
being punished. Smythe could remember a somewhat similar case, in which
a jury had endorsed the popular verdict of "Served him right," by
finding a prisoner, who had killed the man who had wronged him, not
guilty.
He could hear the words of the song which were being sung next door, and
he knew that if he shouted out murder he could summon help, but he
daren't shout out. Help was near, but the revolver was nearer.
"Stop," he said, catching at a last straw; "you don't know that some one
can't prove I had the diamonds with me!"
"I'll chance that," said Hamilton. "You see, no one has ever seen the
diamonds but us."
As Hamilton said this Jenny left the room with the diamonds in her hand,
and then came back again without them. Smythe felt that he had seen the
last of the stones, which were likely to cost him so dear.
"Spare me! for Heaven's sake, spare me! What have I done that you
should kill me? Keep the diamonds, and let me go."
"That won't do, I am afraid," said Hamilton; "you might change your
mind, and try and get the diamonds back. Of course I don't want to
shoot you, but it's the way to play my game."
Then Mrs Hamilton, who had come back into the room, spoke for the first
time.
"What's the good of all this talk, Jack? Make haste and get it all
over."
Just then, in his extremity, an idea came into Smythe's mind, and again
he began to hope.
"Stop," he said. "Why kill me? I have money in the bank. Spare me,
and I will write a cheque for five hundred."
"It's risky for me," said Captain Hamilton. "Still, a little ready
comes in handy. I will take a thou."
With a very shaky hand Smythe wrote out the cheque for the amount asked
for, the Captain still holding the revolver up to his head. Smythe
handed over the cheque.
"Now I can go, I suppose?" he said, making for the door.
"Not yet," said the other. "Get the paper, Jen. Now write out a note
to me, enclosing the cheque for a card debt," he added, as his wife took
down some paper and placed it before their guest. Smythe wrote the
letter he required.
"That will do. Now write to Jen, sending her the diamonds."
"What am I to say?" said Smythe.
"What are you to say? Why, you don't want me to write a love-letter to
my own wife--it's more in your line than mine; but make it pretty sweet,
for I don't know but that the old plan isn't best after all."
Smythe had written love-letters to other men's wives before, but never
under similar circumstances, with the husband witnessing the performance
with a loaded revolver in his hand, nor had he ever made such a very
expensive present. It was some time before he could pull himself
together sufficiently to write, and one or two attempts were condemned
by his severe critic, who said,--
"No, that sort of slush ain't good enough. Put a little more sugar in
it. Why, damn it, man, I thought you were so good at it!"
At last the right sort of note was written. "That will do. Here, what
do you think of it, Jen?" said the Captain, passing the note across to
his partner.
"Why, I think it a dear little note; it's a beautiful note; the
prettiest note I ever got. What a darling man you are to give me such a
present, and yet what a wicked wretch you are to write like that to me!"
and Mrs Hamilton looked at her correspondent, who was regarding her
with no very loving glance, and then burst into a peal of silvery
laughter.
The Captain seemed to take up the joke. "Why, hang it, man," he said,
"but you're a generous big-hearted fellow. There are some men who
wouldn't care about their wives taking presents from such a gay cuss as
you, but I know you mean no harm, old fellow;" and the Captain gave him
a slap on the back with his unoccupied hand, which made him start with
terror. "No," he continued, as his visitor made as if he was going,
"you sha'n't go yet. Stop and drink, stop and drink," he repeated, with
a warning gesture with his revolver.
Mr Smythe sat down at this pressing invitation, and took one or two
glasses of brandy-and-water. He felt that his nerve was altogether
gone, and that he was obliged to obey the other. At last Hamilton let
him go, and opening the door for him, took a noisy leave of him, that
the neighbours must have heard; and then he lurched home in such a state
of brandy and shock that he could hardly realise his loss before he
tumbled into bed.
The next morning he did not wake up until it was late, past ten o'clock,
and then he, by degrees, remembered the events of the night before.
"Was it a dream?" he thought; and he went to his safe, and found out
that it was no dream--the diamonds were not there! What could he do to
get his diamonds back? was his first thought. He could think of
nothing, for he remembered the letters he had written, and already it
was too late to stop the cheque, for he knew it would have been
presented as soon as the bank opened. Then he began to think that the
best thing he could do would be to keep his sorrows to himself, for no
one would believe his story; and the people who lived next door to the
Hamiltons would have heard Captain Hamilton let him out of his house,
and would never believe that anything of the sort had happened to him
that evening. So Mr Smythe did nothing, and he was not surprised that
evening to hear that among the passengers by the coach to Capetown were
his friends the Hamiltons.
He never saw them again, nor did he wish to. They were last seen, some
time ago, in Paris. Hamilton was the same stolid, heavy-dragoon looking
man, and Jenny Hamilton was as young and charming-looking as ever; and
they seemed to be very prosperous, so they probably did well with
Smythe's diamonds.
Story 7.