THE RIPENING RUBIES.
"The plain fact is," said Lady Faber, "we are entertaining thieves. Itpositively makes me shudder to look at my own guests, and to think thatsome of them are criminals."
We stood together in the conservatory of her house in Portman Square,looking down upon a brilliant ball-room, upon a glow of color, and theradiance of unnumbered gems. She had taken me aside after the fourthwaltz to tell me that her famous belt of rubies had been shorn of one ofits finest pendants; and she showed me beyond possibility of disputethat the loss was no accident, but another of those amazing thefts whichstartled London so frequently during the season of 1893. Nor was hersthe only case. Though I had been in her house but an hour, complaintsfrom other sources had reached me. The Countess of Dunholm had lost acrescent brooch of brilliants; Mrs. Kenningham-Hardy had missed a sprayof pearls and turquoise; Lady Hallingham made mention of an emeraldlocket which was gone, as she thought, from her necklace; though, as sheconfessed with a truly feminine doubt, she was not positive that hermaid had given it to her. And these misfortunes, being capped by theabstraction of Lady Faber's pendant, compelled me to believe that of allthe startling stories of thefts which the season had known the story ofthis dance would be the most remarkable.
These things and many more came to my mind as I held the mutilated beltin my hand and examined the fracture, while my hostess stood, with anangry flush upon her face, waiting for my verdict. A moment's inspectionof the bauble revealed to me at once its exceeding value, and the meanswhereby a pendant of it had been snatched.
"If you will look closely," said I, "you will see that the gold chainhere has been cut with a pair of scissors. As we don't know the name ofthe person who used them, we may describe them as pickpocket'sscissors."
"Which means that I am entertaining a pickpocket," said she, flushingagain at the thought.
"Or a person in possession of a pickpocket's implements," I suggested.
"How dreadful," she cried, "not for myself, though the rubies are veryvaluable, but for the others. This is the third dance during the week atwhich people's jewels have been stolen. When will it end?"
"The end of it will come," said I, "directly that you, and others withyour power to lead, call in the police. It is very evident by this timethat some person is socially engaged in a campaign of wholesale robbery.While a silly delicacy forbids us to permit our guests to be suspectedor in any way watched, the person we mention may consider himself in aterrestrial paradise, which is very near the seventh heaven of delight.He will continue to rob with impunity, and to offer up his thanks forthat generosity of conduct which refuses us a glimpse of his hat, oreven an inspection of the boots in which he may place his plunder."
"You speak very lightly of it," she interrupted, as I still held herbelt in my hands. "Do you know that my husband values the rubies in eachof those pendants at eight hundred pounds?"
"I can quite believe it," said I; "some of them are white as these are,I presume; but I want you to describe it for me, and as accurately asyour memory will let you."
"How will that help to its recovery?" she asked, looking at mequestioningly.
"Possibly not at all," I replied; "but it might be offered for sale atmy place, and I should be glad if I had the means of restoring it toyou. Stranger things have happened."
"I believe," said she sharply, "you would like to find out the thiefyourself."
"I should not have the smallest objection," I exclaimed frankly; "ifthese robberies continue, no woman in London will wear real stones; andI shall be the loser."
"I have thought of that," said she; "but, you know, you are not to makethe slightest attempt to expose any guest in my house; what you dooutside is no concern of mine."
"Exactly," said I, "and for the matter of that I am likely to do verylittle in either case; we are working against clever heads; and if myjudgment be correct, there is a whole gang to cope with. But tell meabout the rubies."
"Well," said she, "the stolen pendant is in the shape of a rose. Thebelt, as you know, was brought by Lord Faber from Burmah. Besides thering of rubies, which each drop has, the missing star includes fouryellow stones, which the natives declare are ripening rubies. It is onlya superstition, of course; but the gems are full of fire, and asbrilliant as diamonds."
"I know the stones well," said I; "the Burmese will sell you rubies ofall colors if you will buy them, though the blue variety is nothing morethan the sapphire. And how long is it since you missed the pendant?"
"Not ten minutes ago," she answered.
"Which means that your next partner might be the thief?" I suggested."Really, a dance is becoming a capital entertainment."
"My next partner is my husband," said she, laughing for the first time,"and whatever you do, don't say a word to him. He would never forgive mefor losing the rubies."
When she was gone, I, who had come to her dance solely in the hope thata word or a face there would cast light upon the amazing mystery of theseason's thefts, went down again where the press was and stood while thedancers were pursuing the dreary paths of a "square." There before mewere the hundred types one sees in a London ball-room--types ofcharacter and of want of character, of age aping youth, and of youthaping age, of well-dressed women and ill-dressed women, of dandies andof the bored, of fresh girlhood and worn maturity. Mixed in the dazzling_melee_, or swaying to the rhythm of a music-hall melody, you saw thelean forms of boys; the robust forms of men; the pretty figures of thegirls just out; the figures, not so pretty of the matrons, who, for thesake of the picturesque, should long ago have been in. As the picturechanged quickly, and fair faces succeeded to dark faces, and thecoquetting eyes of pretty women passed by with a glance to give place tothe uninteresting eyes of the dancing man, I asked myself what hopewould the astutest spy have of getting a clue to the mysteries in such aroom; how could he look for a moment to name one man or one woman whohad part or lot in the astounding robberies which were the wonder of thetown? Yet I knew that if nothing were done, the sale of jewels in Londonwould come to the lowest ebb the trade had known, and that I,personally, should suffer loss to an extent which I did not care tothink about.
I have said often, in jotting down from my book a few of the mostinteresting cases which have come to my notice, that I am no detective,nor do I pretend to the smallest gift of foresight above my fellow man.Whenever I have busied myself about some trouble it has been from apersonal motive which drove me on, or in the hope of serving some onewho henceforth should serve me. And never have I brought to my aid otherweapon than a certain measure of common sense. In many instances thepurest good chance has given to me my only clue; the merest accident hasset me straight when a hundred roads lay before me. I had come to LadyFaber's house hoping that the sight of some stranger, a chance word, oreven an impulse might cast light upon the darkness in which we hadwalked for many weeks. Yet the longer I stayed in the ball-room the morefutile did the whole thing seem. Though I knew that a nimble-fingeredgentleman might be at my very elbow, that half-a-dozen others might bedancing cheerfully about me in that way of life to which their rascalityhad called them, I had not so much as a hand-breadth of suspicion; sawno face that was not the face of the dancing ass, or the smart man abouttown; did not observe a single creature who led me to hazard a question.And so profound at last was my disgust that I elbowed my way from theball-room in despair; and went again to the conservatory where the palmswaved seductively, and the flying corks of the champagne bottles mademusic harmonious to hear.
There were few people in this room at the moment--old General Sharard,who was never yet known to leave a refreshment table until the suppertable was set; the Rev. Arthur Mellbank, the curate of St. Peter's,sipping tea; a lean youth who ate an ice with the relish of a schoolboy;and the ubiquitous Sibyl Kavanagh, who has been vulgarly described as agarrison hack. She was a woman of many partialties, whom every one sawat every dance, and then asked how she got there--a woman withsufficient personal attraction left to remind you that she was _p
asse_,and sufficient wit to make an interval tolerable. I, as a rule, haddanced once with her, and then avoided both her program and her chatter;but now that I came suddenly upon her, she cried out with a deliciouspretence of artlessness, and ostentatiously made room for me at herside.
"_Do_ get me another cup of tea," she said; "I've been talking for tenminutes to Colonel Harner, who has just come from the great thirst land,and I've caught it."
"You'll ruin your nerves," said I, as I fetched her the cup, "and you'llmiss the next dance."
"I'll sit it out with you," she cried gushingly; "and as for nerves, Ihaven't got any. I must have shed them with my first teeth. But I wantto talk to you--you've heard the news, of course! Isn't it dreadful?"
She said this with a beautiful look of sadness, and for a moment I didnot know to what she referred. Then it dawned upon my mind that she hadheard of Lady Faber's loss.
"Yes," said I, "it's the profoundest mystery I have ever known."
"And can't you think of any explanation at all?" she asked, as she drankher tea at a draught. "Isn't it possible to suspect some one just topass the time?"
"If you can suggest any one," said I, "we will begin with pleasure."
"Well, there's no one in this room to think of, is there?" she askedwith her limpid laugh; "of course you couldn't search the curate'spockets, unless sermons were missing instead of rubies?"
"This is a case of 'sermons in stones,'" I replied, "and a very seriouscase. I wonder you have escaped with all those pretty brilliants on yoursleeves."
"But I haven't escaped," she cried; "why, you're not up to date. Don'tyou know that I lost a marquise brooch at the Hayes's dance the otherevening? I have never heard the last of it from my husband, who will notbelieve for a minute that I did not lose it in the crowd."
"And you yourself believe----"
"That it was stolen, of course. I pin my brooches too well to losethem--some one took it in the same cruel way that Lady Faber's rubieshave been taken. Isn't it really awful to think that at every party wego to thieves go with us? It's enough to make one emigrate to theshires."
She fell to the flippant mood again, for nothing could keep her fromthat; and as there was obviously nothing to be learnt from her, Ilistened to her chatter sufferingly.
"But we were going to suspect people," she continued suddenly, "and wehave not done it. As we can't begin with the curate, let's take the slimyoung man opposite. Hasn't he what Sheridan calls--but there, I mustn'tsay it; you know--a something disinheriting countenance?"
"He eats too many jam tarts and drinks too much lemonade to be acriminal," I replied; "besides, he is not occupied, you'll have to lookin the ball-room."
"I can just see the top of the men's heads," said she, craning her neckforward in the effort. "Have you noticed that when a man is dancing,either he star-gazes in ecstasy, as though he were in heaven, or looksdown to his boots--well, as if it were the other thing?"
"Possibly," said I; "but you're not going to constitute yourself a_vehmgericht_ from seeing the top of people's heads."
"Indeed," she cried, "that shows how little you know; there is morecharacter in the crown of an old man's head than is dreamt of in yourphilosophy, as what's-his-name says. Look at that shining roof bobbingup there, for instance; that is the halo of port and honesty--and adifficulty in dancing the polka. Oh! that mine enemy would dance thepolka--especially if he were stout."
"Do you really possess an enemy?" I asked, as she fell into a vulgarburst of laughter at her own humor; but she said,--
"Do I possess one? Go and discuss me with the other women--that's what Itell all my partners to do; and they come back and report to me. It's asgood as a play!"
"It must be," said I, "a complete extravaganza. But your enemy hasfinished his exercise, and they are going to play a waltz. Shall I takeyou down?"
"Yes," she cried, "and don't forget to discuss me. Oh, these crushes!"
She said this as we came to the press upon the corner of the stairsleading to the ball-room, a corner where she was pushed desperatelyagainst the banisters. The vigor of the polka had sent an army ofdancers to the conservatory, and for some minutes we could neitherdescend nor go back; but when the press was somewhat relieved, and shemade an effort to progress, her dress caught in a spike of theiron-work, and the top of a panel of silk which went down one side of itwas ripped open and left hanging. For a minute she did not notice themishap; but as the torn panel of silk fell away slightly from the moresubstantial portion of her dress, I observed, pinned to the inner sideof it, a large crescent brooch of diamonds. In the same instant sheturned with indescribable quickness, and made good the damage. But herface was scarlet in the flush of its color; and she looked at me withquestioning eyes.
"What a miserable accident," she said. "I have spoilt my gown."
"Have you?" said I sympathetically, "I hope it was not myclumsiness--but really there doesn't seem much damage done. Did you tearit in front?"
There was need of very great restraint in saying this. Though I stoodsimply palpitating with amazement, and had to make some show ofexamining her gown, I knew that even an ill-judged word might undo thewhole good of the amazing discovery, and deprive me of that whichappeared to be one of the most astounding stories of the year. To put anend to the interview, I asked her laughingly if she would not care tosee one of the maids upstairs; and she jumped at the excuse, leaving meupon the landing to watch her hurriedly mounting to the bedroom storyabove.
When she was gone, I went back to the conservatory and drank a cup oftea, always the best promoter of clear thought; and for some ten minutesI turned the thing over in my mind. Who was Mrs. Sibyl Kavanagh, and whyhad she sewn a brooch of brilliants to the inside of a panel of hergown--sewn it in a place where it was as safely hid from sight as thoughburied in the Thames? A child could have given the answer--but a childwould have overlooked many things which were vital to the development ofthe unavoidable conclusion of the discovery. The brooch that I had seencorresponded perfectly with the crescent of which Lady Dunholme wasrobbed--yet it was a brooch which a hundred women might have possessed;and if I had simply stepped down and told Lady Faber, "the thief you areentertaining is Mrs. Sibyl Kavanagh," a slander action with damages hadtrodden upon the heels of the folly. Yet I would have given a hundredpounds to have been allowed full inspection of the whole panel of thewoman's dress--and I would have staked an equal sum that there had beenfound in it the pendant of the ripening rubies; a pendant which seemedto me the one certain clue that would end the series of jewel robberies,and the colossal mystery of the year. Now, however, the woman had goneupstairs to hide in another place whatever she had to hide; and for thetime it was unlikely that a sudden searching of her dress would add tomy knowledge.
A second cup of tea helped me still further on my path. It made quiteclear to me the fact that the woman was the recipient of the stolenjewels, rather than the actual taker of them. She, clearly, could notuse the scissors which had severed Lady Faber's pendant from the rubybelt. A skilful man had in all probability done that--but which man, orperhaps men? I had long felt that the season's robberies were the workof many hands. Chance had now marked for me one pair; but it was vastlymore important to know the others. The punishment of the woman wouldscarce stop the widespread conspiracy; the arrest of her for thepossession of a crescent brooch, hid suspiciously it is true, but abrooch of a pattern which abounded in every jeweler's shop fromKensington to Temple Bar, would have been consummate lunacy. Of course,I could have taken cab to Scotland Yard, and have told my tale; but withno other support, how far would that have availed me? If the history ofthe surpassingly strange case were to be written, I knew that I mustwrite it, and lose no moment in the work.
I had now got a sufficient grip upon the whole situation to actdecisively, and my first step was to re-enter the ball-room, and to takea partner for the next waltz. We had made some turns before I discoveredthat Mrs. Kavanagh was again in the room, dancing with her usual dash,and seemingly in n
o way moved by the mishap. As we passed in the press,she even smiled at me, saying, "I've set full sail again;" and her wholebearing convinced me of her belief that I had seen nothing.
At the end of my dance my own partner, a pretty little girl in pink,left me with the remark, "You're awfully stupid to-night! I ask you ifyou've seen _Manon Lescaut_, and the only thing you say is, 'The panelbuttons up, I thought so.'" This convinced me that it was dangerous todance again, and I waited in the room only until the supper was ready,and Mrs. Kavanagh passed me, making for the dining-room, on the arm ofGeneral Sharard. I had loitered to see what jewels she wore upon herdress; and when I had made a note of them, I slipped from the front doorof the house unobserved, and took a hansom to my place in Bond Street.
At the second ring of the bell my watchman opened the door to me; andwhile he stood staring with profound surprise, I walked straight to oneof the jewel cases in which our cheaper jewels are kept, and tooktherefrom a spray of diamonds, and hooked it to the inside of my coat.Then I sent the man upstairs to awaken Abel, and in five minutes myservant was with me, though he wore only his trousers and his shirt.
"Abel," said I, "there's good news for you. I'm on the path of the gangwe're wanting."
"Good God, sir!" cried he, "you don't mean that!"
"Yes," said I, "there's a woman named Sibyl Kavanagh in it to beginwith, and she's helped herself to a couple of diamond sprays, and apendant of rubies at Lady Faber's to-night. One of the sprays I knowshe's got; if I could trace the pendant to her, the case would begin tolook complete."
"Whew!" he ejaculated, brightening up at the prospect of business. "Iknew there was a woman in it all along--but this one, why, she's aregular flier, ain't she, sir?"
"We'll find out her history presently. I'm going straight back toPortman Square now. Follow me in a hansom, and when you get to thehouse, wait inside my brougham until I come. But before you do that, runround to Marlborough Street police-station and ask them if we can haveten or a dozen men ready to mark a house in Bayswater some time betweenthis and six o'clock to-morrow morning."
"You're going to follow her home then?"
"Exactly, and if my wits can find a way I'm going to be her guest forten minutes after she quits Lady Faber's. They're sure to let you havethe men either at Marlborough Street or at the Harrow Road station. Thisbusiness has been a disgrace to them quite long enough."
"That's so, sir; King told me yesterday that he'd bury his head in thesand if something didn't turn up soon. You haven't given me the exactaddress though."
"Because I haven't got it. I only know that the woman lives somewherenear St. Stephen's Church--she sits under, or on, one of the curatesthere. If you can get her address from her coachman, do so. But go anddress and be in Portman Square at the earliest possible moment."
It was now very near one o'clock, indeed the hour struck as I passed thechapel in Orchard Street; and when I came into the square I found my owncoachman waiting with the brougham at the corner by Baker Street. Itold him, before I entered the house, to expect Abel; and not by anychance to draw up at Lady Faber's. Then I made my way quietly to theball-room and observed Mrs. Kavanagh--I will not say dancing, buthurling herself through the last figure of the lancers. It was evidentthat she did not intend to quit yet awhile; and I left her to get somesupper, choosing a seat near to the door of the dining-room, so that anyone passing must be seen by me. To my surprise, I had not been in theroom ten minutes when she suddenly appeared in the hall, unattended, andher cloak wrapped round her; but she passed without perceiving me; andI, waiting until I heard the hall door close, went out instantly and gotmy wraps. Many of the guests had left already, but a few carriages andcabs were in the square, and a linkman seemed busy in the distributionof unlimited potations. It occurred to me that if Abel had not got thewoman's address, this man might give it to me, and I put the plainquestion to him.
"That lady who just left," said I, "did she have a carriage or a cab?"
"Oh, you mean Mrs. Kevenner," he answered thickly, "she's a keb, she is,allus takes a hansom, sir; 192, Westbourne Park; I don't want to askwhen I see her, sir."
"Thank you," said I, "she has dropped a piece of jewelry in the hall,and I thought I would drive round and return it to her."
He looked surprised, at the notion, perhaps, of any one returninganything found in a London ball-room but I left him with hisastonishment and entered my carriage. There I found Abel crouching downunder the front seat, and he met me with a piteous plea that the womanhad no coachman, and that he had failed to obtain her address.
"Never mind that," said I, as we drove off sharply, "what did they sayat the station?"
"They wanted to bring a force of police round, and arrest every one inthe house, sir. I had trouble enough to hold them in, I'm sure. But Isaid that we'd sit down and watch if they made any fuss, and then theygave in. It's agreed now that a dozen men will be at the Harrow Roadstation at your call till morning. They've a wonderful confidence inyou, sir."
"It's a pity they haven't more confidence in themselves--but, anyway, weare in luck. The woman's address is 192, Westbourne Park, and I seem toremember that it is a square."
"I'm sure of it," said he; "it's a round square in the shape of anoblong, and one hundred and ninety two is at the side near Durhamsomething or other; we can watch it easily from the palings."
After this, ten minutes' drive brought us to the place, and I found itas he had said, the "square" being really a triangle. Number one hundredand ninety two was a big house, its outer points gone much to decay, butlighted on its second and third floors; though so far as I could see,for the blinds of the drawing-room were up, no one was moving. This didnot deter me, however, and, taking my stand with Abel at the cornerwhere two great trees gave us perfect shelter, we waited silently formany minutes, to the astonishment of the constable upon the beat, withwhom I soon settled; and to his satisfaction.
"Ah," said he, "I knew they was rum 'uns all along; they owe fourteenpounds for milk, and their butcher ain't paid; young men going in allnight, too--why, there's one of them there now."
I looked through the trees at his words, and saw that he was right. Ayouth in an opera hat and a black coat was upon the doorstep of thehouse; and as the light of a street lamp fell upon his face, Irecognized him. He was the boy who had eaten of the jam-tarts soplentifully at Lady Faber's--the youth with whom Sibyl Kavanagh hadpretended to have no acquaintance when she talked to me in theconservatory. And at the sight of him, I knew that the moment had come.
"Abel," I said, "it's time you went. Tell the men to bring a shortladder with them. They'll have to come in by the balcony--but only whenI make a sign. The signal will be the cracking of the glass of that lampyou can see upon the table there. Did you bring my pistol?"
"Would I forget that?" he asked; "I brought you two, and look out! foryou may want them."
"I know that," said I, "but I depend upon you. Get back at the earliestpossible moment, and don't act until I give the signal. It will meanthat the clue is complete."
He nodded his head, and disappeared quickly in the direction where thecarriage was; but I went straight up to the house, and knocked loudlyupon the door. To my surprise, it was opened at once by a thick-set manin livery, who did not appear at all astonished to see me.
"They're upstairs, sir, will you go up?" said he.
"Certainly," said I, taking him at his word. "Lead the way."
This request made him hesitate.
"I beg your pardon," said he, "I think I have made a mistake--I'll speakto Mrs. Kavanagh."
Before I could answer he had run up the stairs nimbly; but I was quickafter him; and when I came upon the landing, I could see into the frontdrawing, room, where there sat the woman herself, a small and oldish manwith long black whiskers, and the youth who had just come into the room,but the back room which gave off from the other with folding-doors, wasempty; and there was no light in it. All this I perceived in a momentaryglance, for no sooner had the servingman s
poken to the woman, than shepushed the youth out upon the balcony, and came hurriedly to thelanding, closing the door behind her.
"Why, Mr. Sutton," she cried, when she saw me, "this is a surprise; Iwas just going to bed."
"I was afraid you would have been already gone," said I with thesimplest smile possible, "but I found a diamond spray in Lady Faber'shall just after you had left. The footman said it must be yours, and asI am going out of town to-morrow, I thought I would risk leaving itto-night."
I handed to her as I spoke the spray of diamonds I had taken from myown show-case in Bond Street; but while she examined it she shot up atme a quick searching glance from her bright eyes, and her thick sensuallips were closed hard upon each other. Yet, in the next instant, shelaughed again, and handed me back the jewel.
"I'm indeed very grateful to you," she exclaimed, "but I've just put myspray in its case; you want to give me some one else's property."
"Then it isn't yours?" said I, affecting disappointment. "I'm reallyvery sorry for having troubled you."
"It is I that should be sorry for having brought you here," she cried."Won't you have a brandy and seltzer or something before you go?"
"Nothing whatever, thanks," said I. "Let me apologize again for havingdisturbed you--and wish you 'Good-night.'"
She held out her hand to me, seemingly much reassured; and as I began todescend the stairs, she re-entered the drawing-room for the purpose, Idid not doubt, of getting the man off the balcony. The substantiallackey was then waiting in the hall to open the door for me; but I wentdown very slowly, for in the truth the whole of my plan appeared to havefailed; and at that moment I was without the veriest rag of an idea. Myobject in coming to the house had been to trace, and if possible to layhands upon the woman's associates, taking her, as I hoped, somewhat bysurprise; yet though I had made my chain more complete, vital links weremissing; and I stood no nearer to the forging of them. That which I hadto ask myself, and to answer in the space of ten seconds, was thequestion, "Now, or to-morrow?"--whether I should leave the house withouteffort, and wait until the gang betrayed itself again; or make some boldstroke which would end the matter there and then. The latter course wasthe one I chose. The morrow, said I, may find these people in Paris orin Belgium; there never may be such a clue again as that of the rubypendant--there never may be a similar opportunity of taking at leastthree of those for whom we had so long hunted. And with this thought awhole plan of action suddenly leaped up in my mind; and I acted upon it,silently and swiftly and with a readiness which to this day I wonder at.
I now stood at the hall-door, which the lackey held open. One searchinglook at the man convinced me that my design was a sound one. He wasobtuse, patronizing,--but probably honest. As we faced each other Isuddenly took the door-handle from him, and banged the door loudly,remaining in the hall. Then I clapped my pistol to his head (though forthis offence I surmise that a judge might have given me a month), and Iwhispered fiercely to him:--
"This house is surrounded by police; if you say a word I'll give youseven years as an accomplice of the woman upstairs, whom we are going toarrest. When she calls out, answer that I'm gone, and then come back tome for instructions. If you do as I tell you, you shall not becharged--otherwise, you go to jail."
At this speech the poor wretch paled before me, and shook so that Icould feel the tremor all down the arm of his which I held.
"I--I won't speak, sir," he gasped. "I won't, I do assure you--to thinkas I should have served such folk."
"Then hide me, and be quick about it--in this room here, it seems dark.Now run upstairs and say I'm gone."
I had stepped into a little breakfast-room at the back of thedining-room, and there had gone unhesitatingly under a round table. Theplace was absolutely dark, and was a vantage ground, since I could seetherefrom the whole of the staircase; but before the footman could mountthe stairs, the woman came half-way down them, and, looking over thehall, she asked him,--
"Is that gentleman gone?"
"Just left, mum," he replied.
"Then go to bed, and never let me see you admit a stranger like thatagain."
She went up again at this, and he turned to me, asking,--
"What shall I do now, sir? I'll do anything if you'll speak for me, sir;I've got twenty years' kerecter from Lord Walley; to think as she's abad 'un--it's hardly creditable."
"I shall speak for you," said I, "if you do exactly what I tell you. Areany more men expected now?"
"Yes, there's two more; the capting and the clergymin, pretty clergyminhe must be, too."
"Never mind that; wait and let them in. Then go upstairs and turn thelight out on the staircase as if by accident. After that you can go tobed."
"Did you say the police was 'ere?" he asked in his hoarse whisper; and Isaid,--
"Yes, they're everywhere, on the roof, and in the street, and on thebalcony. If there's the least resistance, the house will swarm withthem."
What he would have said to this I cannot tell, for at that moment therewas another knock upon the front door, and he opened it instantly. Twomen, one in clerical dress, and one, a very powerful man, in a Newmarketcoat, went quickly upstairs, and the butler followed them. A momentlater the gas went out on the stairs; and there was no sound but theecho of the talk in the front drawing-room.
The critical moment in my night's work had now come. Taking off myboots, and putting my revolver at the half-cock, I crawled up the stairswith the step of a cat, and entered the back drawing-room. One of thefolding doors of this was ajar, so that a false step would probably havecost me my life--and I could not possibly tell if the police were reallyin the street, or only upon their way. But it was my good luck that themen talked loudly, and seemed actually to be disputing. The first thingI observed on looking through the open door was that the woman had leftthe four to themselves. Three of them stood about the table whereon thelamp was; the dumpy man with the black whiskers sat in his arm-chair.But the most pleasing sight of all was that of a large piece ofcotton-wool spread upon the table, and almost covered with brooches,lockets, and sprays of diamonds; and to my infinite satisfaction I sawLady Faber's pendant of rubies lying conspicuous even amongst the wealthof jewels which the light showed.
There then was the clue; but how was it to be used? It came to mesuddenly that four consummate rogues such as these were would not beunarmed. Did I step into the room, they might shoot me at the firstsound: and if the police had not come, that would be the end of it. Hadopportunity been permitted to me, I would, undoubtedly, have waited fiveor ten minutes to assure myself that Abel was in the street without. Butthis was not to be. Even as I debated the point, a candle's light shoneupon the staircase; and in another moment Mrs. Kavanagh herself stood inthe doorway watching me. For one instant she stood, but it served mypurpose; and as a scream rose upon her lips, and I felt my heartthudding against my ribs, I threw open the folding doors, anddeliberately shot down the glass of the lamp which had cast the aureolaof light upon the stolen jewels.
As the glass flew, for my reputation as a pistol shot was not belied inthis critical moment, Mrs. Kavanagh ran in a wild fit of hystericalscreaming to her bedroom above--but the four men turned with loud criesto the door where they had seen me; and as I saw them coming, I prayedthat Abel might be there. This thought need not have occurred to me.Scarce had the men taken two steps when the glass of the balconywindows was burst in with a crash, and the whole room seemed to fillwith police.
* * * * *
I cannot now remember precisely the sentences which were passed upon thegreat gang (known to police history as the Westbourne Park gang) ofjewel thieves; but the history of that case is curious enough to beworthy of mention. The husband of the woman Kavanagh--he of the blackwhiskers--was a man of the name of Whyte, formerly a manager in thehouse of James Thorndike, the Universal Provider near the TottenhamCourt Road. Whyte's business had been to provide all things needful fordances; and, though it astonishes me to write it, he h
ad even founddancing men for many ladies whose range of acquaintance was narrow. Inthe course of business, he set up for himself eventually; and as heworked, the bright idea came to him, why not find as guests men who maysnap up, in the heat and the security of the dance, such unconsideredtrifles as sprays, pendants, and lockets. To this end he married, andhis wife being a clever woman who fell in with his idea, she--under thename of Kavanagh--made the acquaintance of a number of youths whosebusiness it was to dance; and eventually wormed herself into many goodhouses. The trial brought to light the extraordinary fact that no lessthan twenty-three men and eight women were bound in this amazingconspiracy, and that Kavanagh acted as the buyer of the property theystole, giving them a third of the profits, and swindling themoutrageously. He, I believe, is now taking the air at Portland; and theother young men are finding in the exemplary exercise of picking oakum,work for idle hands to do.
As for Mrs. Kavanagh, she was dramatic to the end of it; and, as Ilearnt from King, she insisted on being arrested in bed.
MY LADY OF THE SAPPHIRES.