CHAPTER XXVI
STIRRING TIMES FOR SIR THOMAS
For a man whose intentions toward the jewels and their owner were soinnocent, and even benevolent, Jimmy was in a singularlycompromising position. It would have been difficult even under morefavorable conditions to have explained to Sir Thomas's satisfactionhis presence in the dressing-room. As things stood, it was evenharder, for his lordship's last action before seeking cover had beento fling the necklace from him like a burning coal. For the secondtime in ten minutes, it had fallen to the carpet, and it was just asJimmy straightened himself after picking it up that Sir Thomas got afull view of him.
The knight stood in the doorway, his face expressing the most livelyastonishment. His bulging eyes were fixed upon the necklace inJimmy's hand. Jimmy could see him struggling to find words to copewith so special a situation, and felt rather sorry for him.Excitement of this kind was bad for a short-necked man of SirThomas's type.
With kindly tact, he endeavored to help his host out.
"Good-evening," he said, pleasantly.
Sir Thomas stammered. He was gradually nearing speech.
"What--what--what--" he said.
"Out with it," said Jimmy.
"--what--"
"I knew a man once in South Dakota who stammered," said Jimmy. "Heused to chew dog-biscuit while he was speaking. It cured him--besidesbeing nutritious. Another good way is to count ten whileyou're thinking what to say, and then get it out quick."
"You--you blackguard!"
Jimmy placed the necklace carefully on the dressing-table. Then, heturned to Sir Thomas, with his hands thrust into his pockets. Overthe knight's head, he could see the folds of the curtain quiveringgently, as if stirred by some zephyr. Evidently, the drama of thesituation was not lost on Hildebrand Spencer, twelfth Earl ofDreever.
Nor was it lost on Jimmy. This was precisely the sort of situationthat appealed to him. He had his plan of action clearly mapped out.He knew that it would be useless to tell the knight the true factsof the case. Sir Thomas was as deficient in simple faith as inNorman blood. Though a Londoner by birth, he had one, at least, ofthe characteristic traits of the natives of Missouri.
To all appearances, this was a tight corner, but Jimmy fancied thathe saw his way out of it. Meanwhile, the situation appealed to him.Curiously enough, it was almost identical with the big scene in actthree of "Love, the Cracksman," in which Arthur Mifflin had madesuch a hit as the debonair burglar.
Jimmy proceeded to give his own idea of what the rendering of adebonair burglar should be. Arthur Mifflin had lighted a cigarette,and had shot out smoke-rings and repartee alternately. A cigarettewould have been a great help here, but Jimmy prepared to do his bestwithout properties.
"So--so, it's you, is it?" said Sir Thomas.
"Who told you?"
"Thief! Low thief!"
"Come, now," protested Jimmy. "Why low? Just because you don't knowme over here, why scorn me? How do you know I haven't got a bigAmerican reputation? For all you can tell, I may be Boston Billie orSacramento Sam, or someone. Let us preserve the decencies ofdebate."
"I had my suspicions of you. I had my suspicions from the first,when I heard that my idiot of a nephew had made a casual friend inLondon. So, this was what you were! A thief, who--"
"I don't mind, personally," interrupted Jimmy, "but I hope, if everyou mix with cracksmen, you won't go calling them thieves. They arefrightfully sensitive. You see! There's a world of differencebetween the two branches of the profession and a good deal ofsnobbish caste-prejudice. Let us suppose that you were anactor-manager. How would you enjoy being called a super? You see the idea,don't you? You'd hurt their feelings. Now, an ordinary thief wouldprobably use violence in a case like this. But violence, except inextreme cases--I hope this won't be one of them--is contrary, Iunderstand, to cracksman's etiquette. On the other hand, Sir Thomas,candor compels me to add that I have you covered."
There was a pipe in the pocket of his coat. He thrust the stemearnestly against the lining. Sir Thomas eyed the protuberanceapprehensively, and turned a little pale. Jimmy was scowlingferociously. Arthur Mifflin's scowl in act three had been muchadmired.
"My gun," said Jimmy, "is, as you see, in my pocket. I always shootfrom the pocket, in spite of the tailor's bills. The little fellowis loaded and cocked. He's pointing straight at your diamondsolitaire. That fatal spot! No one has ever been hit in the diamondsolitaire, and survived. My finger is on the trigger. So, I shouldrecommend you not to touch that bell you are looking at. There areother reasons why you shouldn't, but those I will go intopresently."
Sir Thomas's hand wavered.
"Do if you like, of course," said Jimmy, agreeably. "It's your ownhouse. But I shouldn't. I am a dead shot at a yard and a half. Youwouldn't believe the number of sitting haystacks I've picked off atthat distance. I just can't miss. On second thoughts, I sha'n't fireto kill you. Let us be humane on this joyful occasion. I shall justsmash your knees. Painful, but not fatal."
He waggled the pipe suggestively. Sir Thomas blenched. His hand fellto his side.
"Great!" said Jimmy. "After all, why should you be in a hurry tobreak up this very pleasant little meeting. I'm sure I'm not. Let uschat. How are the theatricals going? Was the duologue a success?Wait till you see our show. Three of us knew our lines at thedress-rehearsal."
Sir Thomas had backed away from the bell, but the retreat was merelyfor the convenience of the moment. He understood that it might beinjudicious to press the button just then; but he had recovered hiscomposure by this time, and he saw that ultimately the game must behis. His face resumed its normal hue. Automatically, his hands beganto move toward his coat-tails, his feet to spread themselves. Jimmynoted with a smile these signs of restored complacency. He hoped erelong to upset that complacency somewhat.
Sir Thomas addressed himself to making Jimmy's position clear tohim.
"How, may I ask," he said, "do you propose to leave the castle?"
"Won't you let me have the automobile?" said Jimmy. "But I guess Isha'n't be leaving just yet."
Sir Thomas laughed shortly.
"No," he said--"no! I fancy not. I am with you there!"
"Great minds," said Jimmy. "I shouldn't be surprised if we thoughtalike on all sorts of subjects. Just think how you came round to myviews on ringing bells. But what made you fancy that I intended toleave the castle?"
"I should hardly have supposed that you would be anxious to stay."
"On the contrary! It's the one place I have been in, in the last twoyears, that I have felt really satisfied with. Usually, I want tomove on after a week. But I could stop here forever."
"I am afraid, Mr. Pitt--By the way, an alias, of course?"
Jimmy shook his head.
"I fear not," he said. "If I had chosen an alias, it would have beenTressilyan, or Trevelyan, or something. I call Pitt a poor thing innames. I once knew a man called Ronald Cheylesmore. Lucky devil!"
Sir Thomas returned to the point on which he had been about totouch.
"I am afraid, Mr. Pitt," he said, "that you hardly realize yourposition."
"No?" said Jimmy, interested.
"I find you in the act of stealing my wife's necklace--"
"Would there be any use in telling you that I was not stealing it,but putting it back?"
Sir Thomas raised his eyebrows in silence.
"No?" said Jimmy. "I was afraid not. You were saying--?"
"I find you in the act of stealing my wife's necklace," proceededSir Thomas, "and, because for the moment you succeed in postponingarrest by threatening me with a revolver--"
An agitated look came into Jimmy's face.
"Great Scott!" he cried. He felt hastily in his pocket.
"Yes," he said; "as I had begun to fear. I owe you an apology, SirThomas," he went on with manly dignity, producing the briar, "I amentirely to blame. How the mistake arose I cannot imagine, but Ifind it isn't a revolver after all."
Sir Thomas' cheeks took on a richer t
int of purple. He glared dumblyat the pipe.
"In the excitement of the moment, I guess--" began Jimmy.
Sir Thomas interrupted. The recollection of his needless panicrankled within him.
"You--you--you--"
"Count ten!"
"You--what you propose to gain by this buffoonery, I am at a loss--"
"How can you say such savage things!" protested Jimmy. "Notbuffoonery! Wit! Esprit! Flow of soul such as circulates daily inthe best society."
Sir Thomas almost leaped toward the bell. With his finger on it, heturned to deliver a final speech.
"I believe you're insane," he cried, "but I'll have no more of it. Ihave endured this foolery long enough. I'll-"
"Just one moment," said Jimmy. "I said just now that there werereasons besides the revol--well, pipe--why you should not ring thatbell. One of them is that all the servants will be in their placesin the audience, so that there won't be anyone to answer it. Butthat's not the most convincing reason. Will you listen to one morebefore getting busy?"
"I see your game. Don't imagine for a moment that you can trick me."
"Nothing could be further--"
"You fancy you can gain time by talking, and find some way toescape--"
"But I don't want to escape. Don't you realize that in about tenminutes I am due to play an important part in a great drama on thestage?"
"I'll keep you here, I tell you. You'll leave this room," said SirThomas, grandly, "over my body."
"Steeple-chasing in the home," murmured Jimmy. "No more dullevenings. But listen. Do listen! I won't keep you a minute, and, ifyou want to--push that bell after I'm through, you may push it sixinches into the wall if you like."
"Well," said Sir Thomas, shortly.
"Would you like me to lead gently up to what I want to say,gradually preparing you for the reception of the news, or shallI--?"
The knight took out his watch.
"I shall give you one minute," he said.
"Heavens, I must hustle! How many seconds have I got now?"
"If you have anything to say, say it."
"Very well, then," said Jimmy. "It's only this: That necklace is afraud. The diamonds aren't diamonds at all. They're paste!"