A DOG AND A DIAMOND.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1774, 7 March 1906, Page 10

A DOG AND A DIAMOND.

(By W. J. Stephen)

My friend, Carl Larejon, was a Swede by birth, but he had been so long m England, and spoke and wrote our lan- . guage with, such fluency, that, as he himself jestingly said, he was almost entitled to eail him Self an Englishman. Hie profound admiration for everything English was equalled by mine for all that pertained to Sweden. Two years before the time of which I write, I had accompanied him on a holiday tour through that country, and had been charmed with the beauty and grandeur of the scenery, and the frankness, courtesy, and hospitality of the people. Everything was so new to me, and! so interesting—■ Stockholm —well-named The Venice of the North”—with its numerous bridges spanning the clear, green water, its lovely gardens and public “salons, and its Royal Palace, with its countless windows —TTpsala, with its beautiful cathedral and its university—inseparable from the memory of the great Linneaus —Gothenburg, with its shipping and commerce —and, last, but by no means least, Lapland, where we spent five or six days in the height of the intensely hot, but very short, summer; witnessing the phenomenon of the "Midnight Sun, ’ and studying the manners and customs of the Lapps—will "live for ever young in my remembrance.” When Carl announced his intention of paying another visit to the land of his birth, and asked me to accompany him again, you will readily imagine, therefore, how gladly I accepted his invitartion, and with what eagerness I looked forward to renewing my acquaintance with these scenes which had before so much impressed me. We "set sail’* one lovely Friday afternoon, and, the weather being fine, entered the harbour of Gothenburg on the following Sunday. Carl having no friends there, on the Monday morning we went on to Stockholm by tram our intention being to spend a week or two with his mother, and then to go North, by easy stages', to Lapland. Era Larsjon. who was a widow, and lived in Djursliolm —one of the loveliest suburbs of Stockholm —gave us a warm welcome; and "Tello.” a Lapp-dog which Carl had brought from Oistersund two years before as a gift to bin mother, condescended to greet us with a wag of his tail, and to regard us as friends. One afternoon in the scoc-nd week or our visit Carl and I ran mio the town to purchase such articles as we were likely to require for our Lapland trip. We had got through the business part of our programme, and were strolling, somewhat aimlessly, along the Norrlandsgatan, undecided whether to while away an hour or two in a salon or to go to the Grand Opera House, when a hand was laid suddenly on Carl’s shoulder, and, turning we found ourselves confronted by a tall, thin, dark man, _ of about thirty, with a swarthy complexion, and keen, black eyes.

He grasped my friend warmly by the hand, expressing surprise and pleasure at seeing him. Carl returned his greeting—though with less demonstration and introduced him to. me as ' Herr Dahlberg.” , .. , We, all three, -continued our walk together, and, presently, Carl said, addressing our new companion:— Come, Oscar, you’re the man to tell us how we should spend the evening. What s

going on?” . . . , . r , “Oh ! everytmng imaginable ! replied Dahlberg. “The town is filled with tourists', and surfeited with 'entertainments/ good, bad. and indifferent Have you heard the new song, Scravalatan. No? Well, suppose we ‘turn in and hear that? Thev’ll not have reached it yet. Bru. Koltlioff sings it here to-night. It owes its popularity entirely to her: lor it’s rather a poor thing in itseli. We were passimr the doors) of a prominent salon as he spoke, and, Carl and I assenting to his proposal, we entered, and were soon comfortably seated atone of its numerous little tables' with glasses of the inevitable Swedish punch before us, and some good cigars. The music was good: the punch was good; the cigars were good; and, under their combined influence, I soon ceased to join in Che conversation, and gradually £<ank into a sort of delightful waking tr ilow long I remained in it, Ido not know, I was aroused by Dahlberg s voice saying, in tones of intense admiration “What a splendid ! What a magnificent diamond!” _ The ring had been given me by my mother, and was of great value. It was admired by all, not only on account oi the size and lustre of the gem, but because of the beauty and uniqueness of the setting. . , ~ There was nothing singular, therefore, in this man’s doing so; and when, upon hearing his words, I looked up, and saw his eyes fixed upon my hajad, I was unable to account for the thrill of appre>hensiion that ran through me. I did not offer t<* femove it from my finger, m order that—i’f he were a connoisseur—he might have the pleasure of examining it more closely; but merely replied, in answer to his remark, that I believed the stone was considered almost perfect, and qnickly changed the subject. From that moment—absurd though it may appear—my evening was spoilt *

could fix my attention on nothing and no one but Dahlberg, who, it seemed t« me, never withdrew his eyes from my ring. I began to study his face, and decided I did not like it. His piercing l black eyes seemed to flash like the jewel on which they so covetously dwelt. His features now wore a forbidding look which I had not previously noticed; and; his right hand clutched his glass, as, I fancied, it might have clutched my throat!

Even as these thoughts passed through my brain I was conscious of my folly in entertaining them; and, pulling myself up with an effort, I tried to dismiss them. I reflected that Dahlberg was a friend of Carl’s, and felt positively ashamed of my doubts as I did so. Again I forced myself to join in their talk; and laughed immoderately at the very indifferent jokes that Carl was perpetrating. I drank more "punch” than was good for me, and vigorously applauded the various performers. But it was of no use! Do what I

would, I could not shake off the feeling wh:ch had so unreasonably taken possession of me. In vain I talked! In vain I laughed! My attention was ©?1 again and again by a sort of horrid! ' fascination to Dahlberg’s face as I saw his eyes fix themselves from time to' time on my ring. . At length, in a fit of desperation, I rose, saying I had a headache,, and that as it was late, and we had heard Fra Itolthoff, I fancied we might as well be getting home. My companions were somewhat surprised at the sudden change in my manner: but, with the courtesy, peculiar to their nation, they at once prepared to accompany me, without remark.

A train for Djursholm would leave in a quarter of an hour; and Herr Dahlberg Avalked with us to the railway station, where he said “Adjo,” after arranging to meet us in town next day. And once more, as my eyes met his in parting, that unaccountable feeling of repulsion returned. When the train moved out of the station I heaved a sigh of relief, and as I offered my cigar case to Carl, I said: —• "Who is this Herr Dahlberg? I have never heard you apeak of him, and —forgive me —I don’t altogether like him!” "Oh! he’s all right.” replied my friend, laughing carelessly. "Nobody’s enemy but liis own. poor fellow! He’s a ‘Man about Town,’ you know; with a wonderful talent for spending money which he hasn’t got to spend 1 And he doesn’t seem to have improved, in that respect, since I last saw* him, if one may judge from his desultory talk to-night! He's always 'down’ in luck, but never in spirits.” “He didn’t strike me as being particularly gay to-night.” I said. "Is he a Swede? " His hair and eyes are very black, and his skin remarkable swarthy.” “He inherits his mother’s looks,” said Carl. “She was a Spaniard, I believe; but I really know very little about his antecedents. I may say he was more of an acquaintance than a friend, and I had almost forgotten his existence during mv sojourn in England.” It was close on eleven when we alighted at the little suburban station, and wo were soon seated, with our pipes, in Eru Larsjon’s snug little smoking-room, where, under the soothing influence of tobacco and Carl’s cheerful talk, all thought of Dahlberg, and his disagree-, able eyes, gradually faded from my mind. The Lapp-dog lay at my feet, looking up into my face, as I caressed him from time to time, and gave him some biscuits I had bought for him in the afternoon. It was midnight, and the fire was low, when we rose to retire. We stood in the hall talking for a minute or two, and then I said "Good-night,” and entered my room which was on the ground Poor, nearly all the houses in Sweden—even of the best class—being built on the "flat” system.

I always sleep with my bedroom window open, and —although it may appear strange, in view of what had been passing ia my mind earlier in the evening —it never occurred to me to take the precaution of keeping it closed that night. Being very tired, I undressed at once, and got into bed, where I soon fell asleep—my ring still on my finger. I must have slept for some time, when I awoke suddenly, with the feeling that there was someone in the room! Although it was almost dark, and not a sound broke tlie stillness', I was convinced that I was no longer alone, but that there was a living, moving, breathing presence near me! I trembled with apprehension, for I was never physically robust, and my evening’s experience in the Norrlandsgatan had unnerved me. Like a flash 1 seemed to comprehend it all. The Salon, with its glittering lights, its music, its ceaseless murmur of conversation, and' the face of the man. Dahlberg, with his covetous eyes bent on my ring, returned to my memory with painful distinctness; and as I realised that he had come to rob —perhaps to murder —me, I nearly cried aloud in the horror of the moment* Presence 6f mind, however, came to my '.aid. Thought is quick, and even now, I reflected, he might be bending over me in the darkness, to ascertain if I were, really asleep. My only chance was to lie perfectly still and keep my eves closed, which I had done instinctively, and which, by a great effort of self-control, I still succeeded, in d left hand— on the third finger of which I wore) my ' ring—hung ovei the sdeof themed. If the^rmg jgg"°£t IXoTfhf?'oi*. r an^eAivo r few t,m ° I Vs I rapidly formed this plan, I felt orWin”- hot and moist on my hand!—< H it were being licked by a tongue. So I was right! If he found he could accomplish his purpose quietly, it was not his intention to use violence* He was moistening my finger with his tongue. so that the ring might with a little care be slipped off easily.

He succeeded admirably, for it had never fitted tightly. When the moistening process had been continued for a minute or two, the ring slid off and fell on the floor. The licking ceased, and there was profound silence.

Feeling sure that he was now grouping on the floor for his prize, I summoned up courage, and raised my head a little; turning my eyes downwards towards the spot where I supposed the thief to be stooping, although, with the strange inconsistency that characterises all of us at times, I was conscious* oven while I did so, of the indiscretion of the action; for it was impossible to say what weapon he might not have come provided with, and I felt he would not scruple to use it the moment I betrayed my knowledge of ITTs presence. The faint light of early dawn struggled through the window, and every object in the room was slowly becoming dimly discernible.

Quietly and cautiously raising myself on my elbow, and bending my gaze towards the floor, 1 looked full into the upturned face of—“Tello,” the Lapp-dog! The dog had seemed to take a fancy to me before I had been many hours m the house. Indeed, Fru Larsjon remarked that she had never known him to make friends so quickly with anyone. He had followed us when we left the smokingroom that night, and must have entered my room—the door of which had been left ajar—and concealed himself under the bed, or in 6 ome obscure corner, while I stood talking to Oarl in the hall. •Whether his doing so, and his subsequent licking of m.y band during the night, is to be attributed to affection or to the hope that I might have m my room a further supplv of the dog-bisqjiits with which I had been regaling him earlier in the evening, must ever remain an open question! I was particularly gracious to Dahlberg when I met him next day, for I felt very penitent, and took myself severely to task for having formed so uncharitable and. so erroneous an estimate of his character.. I rather liked him, on further acquaintance, and never failed to experience a twinge of compunction whenever I recalled the .episode of the Dog and the Diamond!