GILLINGHAM RUBIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3103, 3 September 1913, Page 62

GILLINGHAM RUBIES.

CHAPTER XXI

THS NOVELIST.

(PcfiLisiiED b? Special Arrangement.J . . THE . .

By EDGAR J EPSON,

Author of “The Girl’s Hoad,” “The I’assion of Romance,” “The Lady —Peeress,” “The Admirable Tinker,” etc., etc.

[Copyright.]

Absalom had not over-estimated the suite rings of Barbara; her punishment was 'jitter indeed. As the physical pain lessened the mental increased and increased until at times it was hardly to be borne. The physical pain she had endured without complaining; but the helplessness which persisted after the pain itself had passed was galling indeed to a girl of her spirit and activity, and presently came the dread that the injury would prove permanent, that she was crippled. The gravity of Dr Urquhart s tace, his refusal to give her a definite answer to her repeated question went no way to lessen the dread.

As the conviction that she was crippled grew she was afflicted by graver fears — fears of what the future held for Sibyl and herself. The outlook was dark indeed; nowhere could she see help or hope for them. Crippled, she could make no money; her income from bridge had come to an end. She knew her pleasureloving friends too well to dream that a cripple would for long be welcome to their houses. It was their constant effort to keep only the pleasant things of life before their eyes. Crippled, she had no longer that last resource, marriage. In a Home for Incurables—if she could get Sibyl into such a home—the child would die in a year.

She sometimes enjoyed more hopeful moments, when she saw the two of them making a struggle for it, in their cottage at Chipperneld, on the little income saved from the wreck of her father’s fortune; it was nearly a pound a week. But -she knew in her heart of hearts that the struggle could not hist long; that however hard she might strive, crippled she could not suffice for her sister’s needs. Assuredly she could not provide for her the comforts and the delicacies which the doctors had again and again prescribed as absolutely necessary to Sibyl’s existence.

Truly, she was being punished, and with no right to complain ; she had disregarded the sanctity of property, and punishment had been inevitable. Yet this punishment, through Sibyl, was bitter indeed, and often of nights she awoke to lie shivering with dread.

It was but natural that .Absalom, the instrument of her punishment, should be much in her mind. Sometimes she hated him with a hatred beyond all words to express. Sometimes her shame at the thought of the contempt ho must feel for her, a thief, was even keener than that hatred. She knew well that he would want to help her; but she was resolved that, not even to save Sibvl, would she lake any help from him —that would be the last degradation. She assured herself again and again that she hated him.

In such trouble of mind it was no wonder that the unfortunate girl was slow in recovering her strength of body. Then one dav she did feel stronger, and she used her strength to press Dr Urqnhart to tell her the truth about her injury. He tried to escape from the painful task; but Barbara would not be gainsaid ; she was resolved to know the truth, and at Last he admitted that she would have to use crutches, and added “ for a lime ” in a tone with so little hope in it that Barbara made up her mind to the worst. When he had gone she lay for a long time too wretched to think.

Josephine was in the room, but she could find no comfort to offer, and she said nothing. The idea that her mistress should he a cripple was hideous to her. She contented herself with gently bathing Barbara’s temples witli eau-de-Cologne. At last Barbara said in a hopeless tone, “Well, this is the end of everything.” “But no. mademoiselle!” cried Josephine quickly. “You must not lose heart.”

“ ft's no use shutting one’s eves to the facts.” said Barbara. “A cripple and penniless; it's the end of everything.” “ But vou are not penniless—not at all. mademoiselle. There are the rubies,” said Josephine. “The rubies are safe as far as 1 am concerned. I’ve done with them.” said Barbara. “ I've done with all that. I wish—T wish I’d never begun it.” “ But it is impossible to be done with

it, ’ saiii Josephine, quickly. “ Mademoiselle has the rubies.” Barbara raised herself on her “ibow and stared at her. '* What on earth do von mean?” she said. Josephine laughed a gentle, joyous, rippling laugh—a laugh full of gleeful mischief and triumph. “It was the big, red idiot beast!” she said. “He sent me—that night—after the doctor had reduced the deeslocation—to get the red wig and hide it more safely. And I had the keys—the keys of the safe. I took them from you, mademoiselle, when you were on the sofa, insensible. And I went downstairs with my little bag, and I found the wig under the bush—where the big, red idiot beast had told me. I put the wig in the bag, and I came back through the Blue Boom. I think to myself. ‘Why not? Why lose the chance?’ There was no hurry. Everyone was sleeping so sound. They had been disturbed, look you. I go into the little room behind Hie panel; I open the safe —so easily, I take the rubles —oh, but they are marvellous!—out of the cases, and I put them into my bag. I come upstairs and put them in my trunk—-quite safe.” ‘‘Well —well, I said you were a treasure!” said Barbara, faintly.

Josephine laughed again her rippling, mischievous laugh, and went on : “ And on the Monday —the day I left* you so long, mademoiselle—M. Leroux drove me in one of the motor cars of the Marquess to Claybury; I catch the rapide to London, and put the rubies in mademoiselle’s bank —just in time before it close. I come back to Claybury by rapide also, and M. Leroux drove me back. So mademoiselle has the rubies in her bank.”

Barbara sank back on the pillow with her mind in a whirl; here was salvation—salvation for Sibyl! Jler face was transfigured with relief and joy. But slowly it clouded and grew darker and darker. On that bed of suffering she had come to see things in other proportions.

Presently she said : “ It’s no good. Jose phine. I can’t have the rubies.”

“Not have them? lint how? You have them. Mademoiselle,” cried Josephine in a tone of utter amazement.

‘‘lt’s no good,” said Barbara, wearily. “ Lying here, thinking and thinking, has made things seem different. The rubies must be restored to the Marquess. It’s the only right thing to do, and I’ve got to do it.”

She spoke wearily, but in a tone of un alterable resolution.

Josephine argued with her, and implored and entreated her. But in vain. Not even Josephine’s tears at the idea of the thought that Sibyl must suffer moved her from her resolve.

At last Josephine abandoned the effort. She said in a tune of resignation Bien, Mademoiselle.” Then she added : “ C’est magnifique, mais ce n’est pas la vie.” “ No; but it’s got to be,” said Barbara. “The question is how had we best restore them to their rightful owner?” “ He is such an imbecile, the good Marquess,” said Josephine, sadly. “We can’t help that; he was born so,” said Barbara, with conviction. She cudgelled her brains for a while; then suddenly she smiled and said, “Kitty Meredith shall do it. Look, Josephine, you have never played the part of Kitty Meredith. It is only right that for the last time it should be played by you—the last time and the only time that that young woman plays a noble part. \ou’H go to town with the red wig in your oag. You’ll go to my bank, and take the rubies out of it; then you’ll go to the flat and disguise yourself as Kitty Meredith. You’ll never get those brown eyes green enough ; but I think you 11 get them greenish. Then von take the rubies to the Marquess's bank, hand them over to the manager, and tell him to inform the Marquess that they have been safely received. You won t have to say much. It isn’t as though you were trying to get something out of the bank.” Josephine laughed and clapped her hands. “ Oil, but it will be fun, mademoiselle,” she cried. The next morning Josephine went up to London by an early train. Neither she nor Barbara was aware that the Marquess had discovered that the rubies had gone at about the very same hour at which Barbara had learnt that they were in the vaults of her bank. The Marquess had been reticent ; he had told no one. Josephine got the rubies out of Barbara s bank, went to the fiat and disguised herself as much like Kitty Meredith as her dark eyes would allow, and betook herself to the* bank of the Marquess with the rubies neatly wrapped up in a blown paper parcel. She was not afflicted by any nervous tremors; to her the fact that she v. as carrying about the streets of London a hundred thousand pounds’ worth of stolen rubies appeared an excellent joke and nothing more; and she came into the bank smiling joyously, with Barbara s careful instructions very clear in her head. She handed the nearest clerk the brown paper parcel, and said that the Maiqness of Gillingham had asked her to leave it at the bank for him, to be taken care of in its vaults. She received a receipt, made out to Miss Kitty Meredith, for the brown paper parcel, and having asked that the Marquess should be informed that it had been safely received, bade the bank officials who had attended to her a blithe “Good-day.” and came cheerfully out of the bank rather less than five minutes after entering it. She returned to the flat, and, as Barbara had bidden her, do-

strayed the reel wig. As Josephine came down the steps of tlie hank Absalom was ascending the stairs to the flat of Jasper Forbes, in Jermyn street. Ife went up thgm smiling grimlv, with the light of battle in his eyes. He was prepared to make the pui'cbase of the rabies a peaceful transaction : but his hope was that the explorer would make a fight for it. He was even more angry with him for encouraging Barbara in her war on society than he bud been with Ferdinand Ferrer. Ferrer was a worm, and all bis training bad probably been of

a nature to develop his wormy instincts. Hut Jasper Forbes had been at Eton and Christchurch; he had had the chance to learn better. Moreover, the matter of the stolen kiss still rankled.

He found the explorer lying back in an easy chair, smoking a cigar, and studying a price-list. He gave Absalom a look of very keen inquiry as his man ushered him into the room; but lie said, carelessly enough■ “Hullo, Goffiine; how are y'ou? You’ll find that chair comfortable.” And he nodded to the easy chair which faced that on which he was sitting. . .

“How are you?” said Absalom, sitting down in it; and they eyed one another keenly as the man closed the door. “I’ve come to buy the Gillingham rubies of you at Ferrar’s price,” said Absalom, who saw no point in beating about the bush.

He thought that the look of surprise on the explorer’s face was very well done. “Is this humour —American humour.' drawled Jasper Forbes in a tone meant to irritate. . . ... “No; it’s business —plain business out frills,” said Absalom. “What s the good of beating about the bush? I know that you went to Ciaybury and came back the same night to get the rubies. I stopped that. But when I was laid up with that confounded bullet in my arm von came back later and scooped them. Well, I’ve spoiled the Ferrer market; that little hound won’t be able to look at a ruby for the next three years without throwing a first-class fit. 11l buy the rubies off vou myself at his price. At least I’ll pay you whatever your share was to be; and I’ll see you send Miss Lessing whatever her share was to be. “Will you?” said Jasper Fori s; and he smiled very unpleasantly indeed. “That’s what I’m going to do—just that,” said Absalom firmly. “That girl’s a wonder—top notch,” said Jasper Forbes in a tone of warm admiration. “But you’re a bit out in one important point; and that is, 1 haven t got the rubies.”

“Oh. cut it out!” said Absalom contemptuously. He had made up his mind that the explorer had the rubies; and he was not going to be moved from that conviction by any denials, for he thought it was more probable that Jasper Forbes would try to keep the whole of the proceeds from the sale of them for himself. Jasper Forbes gave him a very ugly look, and said, “’Look here, d'on t you be so offensive.”

“Are you going to do business, or aren’t you?” said Absalom, meeting the ugly look with an uglier. “Of course, you're out to rob the unfortunate girl of her share of the money. But I’m out to see that von don’t do anythin;? of the kind.” He* made his tone as offensive as a tone could well bei for he found that, face to face with the explorer, he hated him with an honest thoroughness which was a considerable surprise to him, since he had always regarded himself as the most amiable American in Europe. “Get out of this!” snapped Jasper Forbes springing to his feet. “Not on your life! Not without those stones!” said Absalom quietly. “You may as well hand them over; you’ll only get hurt if you don’t.” He contrived to get a peer into the tone, whicn pleased him very much. Jasper Forbes, with the advantage of the upright position, reached for Absalom with entire confidence. It was ill-founded in a man unversed in the art of jiu-jitsu : and to this dav he does not know how he cut his head on the fonder. But that was what he cut it on ; and he cut it deep. After that neither of them knew much of what they did, or how they did it. They did so many things, and they did them so quickiv, and they did them all over the room.* It was Jasper Forbes’s head which went through the glass of the book-case; and it was the weight of Absalom which broke the two legs off the table; it was their combined weight which crumpled up the solid easy chair as if it had been a piece of furniture from a German doll’s, house. The blood from the reopened wound n Absalom’s arm made fully as much of the moss as the blood from Jasper Forbes’s cut bead and face. Ab-alom was not finite sure whether the explorer was senseless from the bang his head came against the wall, when he save hi« leg the sidewrench, or whether it was the side-wrench On the top of the bang on the head which made him lose consciousness. But he got no from the top of his senseless body in a." state of nrofound satisfaction, and laughed a whole-hearted laugh at the sight of his battered enemy lyiim so still. He wondered that no one had come to see what thev were doimr. for thov had •made noise enough to excito the rnriodtv of a. deaf mute. But ho did not let his wonder prevent instant action; he took the heave noker and went through the explorer's bureau and every drawer in the sitting room and bedroom. He did no' find the inines: and he wa- v°xed. But that failure was not enough to damn utterlv bis pleasure at having done everything that one man could do to teach the explorer no* to suaten kisses, or onroura"G young girls to tamper with the sanctity of the property of the English nobility He was simmering with iov when h< got imo his ear. and he had no fear that he would get into trouble for having privately vindicated that sanctity. Jasper Forbes would not trumpet forth the fact that he had been hammered bv a man whom be bad so nubb'elv aernsed of having a flabby air. Even if Fmrev ever discovered who the avenger who had dealt sn faithfully wi’h him was. he would have for .M-eat j, dread of that avenger’s making public the reason of his punishment to take anv st-ps to get units with him. But when 1m got home and had had his wound hound nn he found that in the reaction from the fight he needed re-t badlv. He had not. fortunately, been marked abou*. the fao< • but he was covered from head to t-,t with had bruises, some of them likely to ache for davs.

Josephine came back to Gillingham Castle triumphant at having so successfully performed ,her task, and, after thanking her, Barbara told her that she was going to write to a friend, Lady Blyde, who was in need of a maid, and who would be an excellent and thoughtful mistress. Joseph frowned and begged her not to; she protested that there was truly no need till they knew better how things were going to turn out. Though she had a very lively hatred of Absalom, she had a considerable belief in his firm assurance that her mistress would recover from her injury. But Barbara wanted to have the matter settled, and she wrote. The next morning at breakfast the Marquess was amazed by the receipt of two inexplicable communications. One was a copy of his banker’s receipt, made out in the name of Kitty Meredith, for a brown paper parcel. The other was a letter from his bankers informing him that the brown paper parcel which he had sent to them by the hand of Miss Kitty Meredith had been safelv received.

Under this double spur the excited Marquess motored to Ciaybury and caught the noon express to London. A taxi cab carried him swiftly to the bank, and the manager of the bank sent in all haste for the parcel from the vaults. The Marquess cut the string and opened the parcel with trembling fingers, and there before his astonished eyes lay the Gillingham rubies! He was in two minds what to do, whether to remain reticent or awake suspicion that something was wrong by inquiring. Then his curiosity go the better of him, and he made careful inquiries about the appearance of the young lady who had brought the pared to the bank. The clerk’s description of her tallied exactly with Absalom Gomme’s description of Kitty Meredith. The Marquess left the rubies at the bank and hurried off to the flat of Absalom Goiimie in Mount street. He found Absalom with his arm in a sling, sitting in an easy chair, looking and feeling uncommonly- sore. He greeted the Marquess with no show of cordiality whatever. “How. did you work it? How did yon induce her to give them up?” cried the Marquess. .Absalom did not know whom lie had induced to give what up, but lie took it that the rubies were in question, and it were well to go warily. He looked at the Marquess with a sphinx-like smile and said, “So she has given them up, has she ?”

“ Kitty Meredith brought them herself to my bank yesterday afternoon. How did you induce her to do it?” “ Didn’t I tell you she had a sense of humour?” said Absalom somewhat impatiently, that being the first entirely noncommittal phrase that came into his head. The Marquess scratched himself in the middle of ills left whisker, and looked puzzled: “So that was it, was it?” he said in a tone of ineffable sapience. “The er —er —criminal mind.” Absalom looked at him earnestly, and said, “ Precisely.”

The Marquess thanked him warmly for the happy result of his intervention in the matter, and Absalom received his thanks without a protest. It was advisable —indeed it was imperative—-that the Marquess should have any explanation of the matter rather than the right one.

But after lie had gone, Absalom sat very thoughtful for a long time. He divined something of the change in Barbara which had led her to restore the Gillingham rubies to their stupid owner, and he was very thankful for that change. Oddly enough he found in it a favourable augury of his own success in gaining the desire of bis heart. (To be Continued.)