Mrs Moffatt was standing before the table, tearing up old papers. She
looked up with a start, to see Guest and Cornelia standing before her in
that eloquent, linked attitude, and over her features there passed that
helpless, trapped expression of guilt discovered and brought to bay,
which, once seen, can never be forgotten. The blood ebbed from her
face, leaving it ashen white, except for two fixed spots of colour on
either cheek; her fingers relaxed their hold, and the fragments of paper
fluttered downward to the floor. There was a ghastly silence.
It was Guest who was the first to speak, standing straight and stern at
the opposite side of the table, and at the sound of his opening words
the wretched woman trembled violently, and sank on a chair for support.
"Mrs Schuter! I have come here with Miss Briskett to ask your
explanation of a letter sent in her name to Mr Marchant, the jeweller,
this morning. She has seen the letter, with the forged signature at the
end, and has heard that the necklace was brought to this hotel, and
delivered to you. May I trouble you to hand it over?"
Each word was sharp and cutting as an icicle, and Guest's steel-like
eyes were alight with remorseless anger. Cornelia turned her head
aside, unable to endure the pitiful spectacle. Mrs Moffatt stammered
out a broken subterfuge.
"What necklace? I don't know--I don't--understand!"
Even as she spoke, one trembling hand twitched upward, to be as quickly
lowered, but not before Guest had pounced upon the clue with swift
intuition.
"You understand very well! As a matter of fact, you are wearing it at
this moment beneath your dress. Will you kindly take it off, and put it
on the table?"
He turned aside as he spoke, paying this small tribute to her womanly
feelings. A strangled sob broke the silence; the sound of laboured
breathing, then a faint, clicking sound, and he looked round to see a
dazzle of light on a corner of the table, where the sunbeams had found a
plaything. A bauble of green and white stones, for which a woman had
sold her soul.
Cornelia was leaning against the mantelpiece, her face hidden in her
hands. Guest realised that it was her sob which he had heard, and the
knowledge did not soften his heart.
"Thank you!" he said in the same tone of cutting politeness. "That is
so much to the good, but I shall have to trouble you still further.
There was two hundred pounds lent to you yesterday, ostensibly to be
paid to a furrier, that, of course, was a mere excuse!--and thirty
pounds in bank-notes this morning. I fear the first sum is gone beyond
recall, since your husband's cheque is probably not worth the paper on
which it is written, but I take it that the notes are still intact. As
you prefer someone else to pay your bills, you will have kept them for
personal use. They are probably in your pocket at this moment!"
"I have not got the cheque--I could not return it if I would," said Mrs
Moffatt, hoarsely. "My husband cashed it as soon as the bank was open,
and left London shortly after. He has the money. I have not had a cent
of it. The notes are in my purse. He left them so that I should be
able to follow."
"Just so. You will please return them to Miss Briskett, and we will
deal with the other sum later on. Your intention was to leave the hotel
for good this morning, and you provided Miss Briskett with commissions
to keep her out of the way while you made your preparations. That is
the case, is it not?"
The woman did not answer, but looked across the room towards where
Cornelia stood; and Cornelia parted her hands and looked back at her in
pitiful inquiry.
"_Did_ you mean to run away, and leave me here alone?"
Mrs Moffatt bent her head in shame. Her face was not white now, but
deep, burning red.
"We knew--after last night--that the game was up. We _had_ to go,
Cornelia--or--"
"Be kind enough not to address Miss Briskett by her Christian name!"
interrupted Guest, sharply. It seemed to him an impossible humiliation
that this woman should still dare to address the girl in the language of
friendship. "Let us get to the end of this business. I presume there
are other bills, which will come in, in due course; bills for goods
ordered in other forged notes. Am I right in supposing this? It is
your best plan to speak the truth!"
"Y-es!"
"There _are_ more bills! Can you give me an approximate idea of their
amount? Fifty pounds, one hundred, two hundred? What is the amount?"
"About--one hundred."
"And the hotel expenses! Miss Briskett suspects from the manner of the
officials that you were thoughtful enough to take these rooms in her
name. Again I ask you, is that the case?"
A bend of the head gave assent, and Guest wheeled round with a gesture
of intense indignation, took a few rapid strides up and down the room,
then halted again by Mrs Moffatt's side.
"And, not content with cheating and plotting to desert this young girl,
whom you professed to befriend, how many of her personal possessions
have you stolen? You had free access to her room--have you taken
advantage of her absence this morning to rob her of her private
belongings?"
Two exclamations, of denial, of dismay, and reproach, sounded in his
ears. Innocent and guilty alike regarded him with indignant eyes. To
the mysterious feminine reasoning it appeared there were different
degrees in the crime of theft. To pay a debt by means of a worthless
cheque was evidently less reprehensible than to pilfer a brooch from a
dressing-table. Guest knew himself condemned before he heard the
simultaneous replies.
"Captain Guest, how _can_ you! She would never do that!"
"Indeed, you are mistaken. I'm bad enough, but I have not fallen quite
so low. I have not touched a thing."
"You must excuse my denseness. I fail to see how one theft is so much
worse than the other. I am sorry to seem intrusive, Miss Briskett, but
I have taken a certain responsibility upon myself, and I must be
satisfied on this point before we go any further. Will you take Mrs
Schuter with you to your room while you carefully check your
possessions, and get back your bank-notes. I will wait here till you
return."
For a moment Cornelia appeared on the point of refusing, but she changed
her mind, and without a word led the way down the corridor towards her
own bedroom. Her dressing-case stood on a table by the window; she
stood over it uncertainly, as if still debating with herself whether she
should or should not obey Guest's command, and as she did so Mrs
Moffatt's voice broke the silence--
"Cornelia!--there's not a mite of reason why you should take my word,
but I tell you straight I haven't laid a finger on one of your things.
You ken look as well as not, but it's wasting time. The thirty pounds
is in my purse, ready for you to take. When it comes to the last Silas
takes fright. There's no need to tell any more lies. We have lived by
this sort of thing for years past, but as soon as he scents danger in
the air, he makes off to a place of safety, and leaves me to finish up.
You won't find him, however hard you search, but I'm right here. ...
What are you going to do with me, Cornelia?"
Cornelia drew a sharp, sobbing breath.
"Oh, why did you do it?" she cried wildly. "Why did you do it? You
laid a plot for me from the start. I was rich, and--and _green_, so you
fussed over me, and acted like a friend, and invited me up here, for
nothing but to bleed me--to get as much out of me as you could, and then
leave me to face it out alone in a strange place. I was your own
countrywoman, and I trusted you. Hadn't you got a spark of loyalty
left, that you could act so--_mean_?"
Mrs Moffatt put her hand to her throat. Her voice seemed paralysed;
husky, disjointed, and feeble.
"No! It's all gone; loyalty, faith, everything that matters. There's
nothing left but _this_! You'd not believe me if I said I was fond of
you, Cornelia, but it's the solid truth, though I robbed you all the
same. I _plotted_ to rob you, as you say! You had plenty of money, and
we were cleaned out. I meant to get away with that necklace, and sell
the stones on the Continent. There are people there who will buy
without asking questions. I've got to know them pretty well during the
last few years. ... Cornelia, what are you going to do? Is Mr
Marchant sending to arrest me here?"
"He doesn't know that anything is wrong. I managed to keep quiet, and
let him believe I knew all about it. To the last I kept hoping that
there was some way out. Captain Guest wanted to bring an officer along,
but I wouldn't do it."
"That was like you! You wanted I should have a chance, but it's all
true; every one thing! There's more true than you know of--other bills
to come in, a big sum run up here. You can give back the necklace, but
even so, it is going to be heavy enough. ... Cornelia, _what are you
going to do_? I'm a bad woman--are you going to send me to prison, to
have a chance of growing worse, among other bad women like myself?"
Cornelia threw out her arms with a sudden, reckless gesture.
"_No_!" she cried strongly, "I'm not! I'm going to let you go; I'm
going to _help_ you to go. Captain Guest's a pretty hard man; I guess
you'd better not see him again. Keep those notes--you'll need some
money to help along, and march out of the hotel right now, and lose
yourself as fast as ever you can. You can have ten minutes to do it,
while I wait here, and as much longer as I can keep him quiet; but
you've got to be slippy. ... You shall have your chance!"
Mrs Moffatt gasped for breath, her face twitched convulsively, and she
tottered as she stood.
"You mean that? Oh, God bless you, Cornelia Briskett! If there are any
blessings going, there's no one on earth deserves them more than you.
You've saved me this time. Whatever happens in the future, you've given
me a chance."
"That's so, but the question is, _are you going to take it_? See here!
let's strike a bargain over this before you go! You are a clever woman,
or you wouldn't have escaped so long, but the game is played out. It
isn't safe to go on, when any moment you may be recognised by people you
have fooled before. You're bound to make a fresh start--why shouldn't
you try being straight for a change? You'd find it would pay better in
the end. You've got to think, when you leave this to-day, that a girl's
whim is all there is between you and a prison cell. That ought to be a
pretty bracing remembrance, I should say. ... Start away with the money
you have in hand, and see if you ken't make some more for yourself.
There's another thing! You can write to me in a year from now, and tell
me where you are, and what you have been about. I'll ferret into every
single thing, and if it's _straight_, I'll help you again; I'll go _on_
helping you! You need never say after this that you cheat because
you're obliged. Live straight, and work hard, and I'll see to it that
you don't want. You've got your chance! ... I guess you'd better
scoot!"
Mrs Moffatt stood before her, trembling and abject; overcome with a
pitiful emotion.
"I'm going! Could you, could you kiss me, Cornelia, before I go?"
Cornelia drew herself up proudly.
"No, I guess not! We'll leave that over for another time. Some day,
perhaps, when you're straight. ... You'd best not waste any more
time..."
"I'm going. I can't thank you. I swear to you--"
"No, don't swear! I don't want any promises. Promise _yourself_;
that's the best thing. ... Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Cornelia Briskett!"
The door opened, and shut. Cornelia listened with bated breath, but all
was silent from the corridor without. She leant her head on the
dressing-table, and burst into a passion of tears.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Captain Guest paced up and down the sitting-room for a quarter of an
hour, casting impatient glances at the clock, and pausing now and then
to lift the emerald necklace from the table and examine it with
wondering curiosity. It was a pretty enough plaything, but from his
point of view it seemed a preposterous waste of money to sink a cool
thousand pounds on its purchase. He mentally ran over the various
necessary repairs on his own property, which could be completed for the
sum, and shrugged his shoulders expressively. Still, women liked such
playthings, and if one were specially interested in a woman (a woman,
say, to whom emeralds were specially becoming!), there would be a
certain satisfaction in seeing her wearing the pretty things. It was
conceivable that the pleasure so given might even be as keen as that
derived from a new chimney-stack or a barn!
A vision rose before him; a vision of a ruddy head and snowy shoulders,
on which the green light flashed and waned. He saw Cornelia, as she had
appeared, sitting in the front row of the stalls at the theatre, and
mentally clasped the necklace round her throat.
The door opened. He thrust the vision aside, and wheeled round quickly,
reassuming his sternest expression. A dejected little girl stood on the
threshold, with dishevelled locks and tear-stained eyes, and as he
stared in amazement, she quietly closed the door, and collapsed in a
limp little heap on the corner of the sofa.
"I've--come back!"
"Where's Mrs Moffatt?"
"She's"--the voice broke in a strangled sob--"_gone_!"
"Gone _where_?"
"Gone away. Ten minutes ago. She's ever so far off by now!"
Guest stood still, transfixed with anger and astonishment.
"Do you mean to say that she escaped before your eyes? What happened?
Did you leave her alone in your room?"
"No; I told her to go. I sent her away. It was my suggestion from the
start."
"You--told--her--to go!" Guest's face was a study of outraged wrath.
"After all she has done; after the deliberate way in which she has
cheated and deceived you; after the lies she has told; after her
thefts,--hundreds of pounds still to pay up! after intending to desert
you in this hotel, you mean to tell me seriously that you _sent_ her
away!"
The tousled head nodded dumbly; two big tears trickled down the reddened
cheeks.
"Are you aware that you have compounded a felony? If Mr Marchant heard
what you had done, he could accuse you of being a partner in the crime.
Do you know that you have broken the law of the country, and that I
could give you in charge at this moment, if I wished to do so?"
"I guess that's so.--Are you going to do it?"
"That's ridiculous! You know it is, but--"
"Then you're another!" cried Cornelia, laughing through her tears.
"You're as bad as I am, so you can't preach! She's gone anyway, and
I'm--_glad_! We got the necklace, and for the rest, I'll just have to
pay up, and look pleasant. Poppar says you've got to pay for experience
in this world. I'll tell him I concluded I'd better learn it pretty
thoroughly, once I'd started. He won't mind."
"Your father must be a wealthy man if he can afford to lose four or five
hundred pounds without feeling annoyed!"
Cornelia looked at him quickly, and replied in a tone of studied
indifference.
"Oh, he's flush enough at the moment. Likely enough we shall be paupers
next year. Don't be angry with me, Captain Guest. I simply _had_ to
give her a chance! I can afford to pay up, and if I'd sent her to
prison it would have killed the last little mite of self-respect. I
trusted her instead, and I believe that's going to help more than any
punishment. It would _me_! She's had a good old fright, and maybe this
will be the turning-point in her life."
Guest's lips curled in eloquent disbelief. He paced slowly up and down
the room, then stationed himself once more in front of the sofa.
"Did you look over your things to see that they were all right?"
"No! ... She said she hadn't touched them."
"Did you make her return the notes?"
"No, I--I guessed she'd need them herself!"
"How extremely considerate! Didn't you feel it necessary to offer her a
little more, while you were about it? To give her another twenty
pounds, say, to make up the full change for the cheque?"
The face that peered up at him was at once so abashed, so discomfited,
so childlike in its humility, that his anger melted before it, and gave
place to a wave of tenderness.
"You ridiculous, high-flown, little girl! Who would have believed that
all your shrewd commonsense would collapse like this! No! I'm not
angry, I shan't scold any more. The thing's done now, and you've had
enough worry. I'm going to ring the bell, and order some luncheon. We
will have it here together, and comfort ourselves after all this
excitement. I'm hungry enough, whatever you are! What shall it be?
You are going to treat me, you know, so it must be something good.
Roast chicken! That's what ladies generally prefer, and some sweets,
and fruit. Claret for me, and what for you? Is it to be--`corfee'--
once more?"
He went to the door to give the order to the waiter, accompanied by a
tip which had the effect of producing the meal in an extraordinarily
short space of time. Cornelia's appearance being still distinctly
dishevelled, Guest dismissed the waiter and himself took the head of the
table, carving the chicken, handing the vegetable dishes, and even
pouring out the coffee. If they had been a honeymoon couple the
intimacy of the scene could not have been greater, but in that case he
would have taken his wife in his arms and kissed away her tears. Poor,
little, red-eyed girl! There was precious little beauty about her at
the moment, yet she had never appeared more attractive.
"I ken't eat a bite!" was Cornelia's first melancholy statement, but
when one wing of the chicken had disappeared from her plate--"It's
mighty good!" she said, and promptly set to work on a second. She drank
copious draughts of coffee, began to revive in spirits, and experience
qualms concerning her appearance. "Say! do I look a perfect freak?"
"You look much better than you did ten minutes since. In another ten
minutes you will look quite like yourself, if you obey my orders, and
eat a good meal."
Cornelia shrugged expressively.
"I know what that means! I guess I'm ugly enough to kill. That's why I
hate to cry--it musses one up so for hours after. ... Captain Guest,
what am I going to do next? Can I settle up, and get away to Norton
this afternoon, do you suppose?"
"I am afraid not. The last train leaves at three o'clock, and that does
not give enough time for all that has to be done. I was wondering
whether my aunt--whether you would consent to sleep at her house to-
night."
"Suttenly not! Why should I? It won't be the first time by a good many
that I've stayed a night by myself in a hotel, and there's no reason why
I should move. I'll have my meals up in this room, if it will ease you
any, but I won't leave this place till to-morrow morning. Then I'll go
back," she laughed feebly, "to The Nook, and humble pie!"
"You need not tell your aunt what has happened, if you don't choose to
do so!"
"Oh, yes; I'll own up! Aunt Soph will be pleased to feel she was right.
Maybe she'll like me better when I'm down on my luck. ... What must I
set about first?"
"I shall interview the hotel manager, and tell him the whole story--
that's due to him, you know, or there might be a repetition of the
offence. Then there's the jeweller--he must be warned in the same way,
and the necklace returned. I presume you don't want to keep it."
Cornelia shuddered.
"Oh, no. I could never wear it. But when Poppar comes over I'll make
him buy me something else instead. Mr Marchant shan't lose! I guess
I'd better drive there straight away, and then to the bank. I'll have
to arrange for a pretty big draft. ... You never know how things are
going to pan out in this world, do you? I thought I was going to spend
this afternoon on the river, gliding about so sweet and peaceful!"
Guest flushed, hesitated, and--plunged!
"Why shouldn't we go all the same? We can finish our business and still
have time. If you will allow me, I'll take great care of you and bring
you home before it's dark. It would be too dreary sitting up here by
yourself, all the evening."
Cornelia sprang to her feet, clapping her hands with delight.
"How lovely! How lovely! You're just the nicest thing! It's sweet of
you to think of it! Go right away now, and get through with your
interview, and I'll join you in the lounge as soon as I've prinked, and
gotten my face into order. I'll hang my head out of the window, and
massage my nose. ... Let's go and be happy, and forget all our woes!"
She ran to the door, waved her hand gaily over her shoulder, and
disappeared from sight.