TALES AND SKETCHES.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7667, 28 March 1903, Page 1

TALES AND SKETCHES.

THE KING'S DIAMOND. (By FLORENCE STACPOOLE.) [All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER VI./ ."; "Are you sure you would not rather yraii and tell me all about it later on," said i again, entxeatingly, as Dora paused. r "Oh, no, I would rather tell you all I know about ifc now," she answered, "if you don't mind the trouble of, hearing it," she added, looking, at hinqi, . doubtfully. •• 'Vi "I am most 'anxious -to hear you can tell mei. Especially I would like to know tram -whocV your father got that diamond. Did he tell you that?" " Oh, yes. It was from an Eastern ;• prince. He is an Arabian-, I believe — a Prince Akbar, one of the Abacis's family. He came three days ago, but first I must Uellyou/Mr Straight, that my, father has aperfect^ mania for buying things and selling them again. ' I don't know why he likes to sell them when he has bought them; I should rather keep them." Straight smiled. The recollect jon came back to him of the huckstering person he fcad imagined Miss Chesney to be, before he inet her. / ' . " But he doesn't seem to mind selling them again," she continued, "he and Lord Hedingtori, who lives at Tunbridge Wells, know -" /'_ Straight nodded. " They are\ always collecting valuable things, and consulting each, other, about them — at least Lord Hedington consults papa — but he is so old that- I don't think Uis advice can-, be very valuable. Well, a little while ago he wrote to say there was a wonderful diamond to be sold cheap. ' There was «ome special, reason- for its being, so cheap which my father didn't wait to explain to me, but it was really very valuable, and. had a pedigree that showed all the people to whom it had belonged for several tundred years. Well, my father was greatly taken with the idea, and, unfortunately, he said he would like to see it. So Lord Hedington told the Prince, and the Prince came down, with the diamond himself. As the stone was so valuable they both agreed that no one should know anything about the matter, or about its being in the- house.". Mrs Wilkinson's story flashed back to {straight's -mind, and he remembered that Higgs, the butler, on his own showing, must have had' his ear pretty near the. keyhole'while the transaction between his master and the Asiatic visitor, which had so excited the domestic's curiosity, was progressing. For a moment he thought of , mentioning this circumstance to Dora, 'but tie > refrained — it would probably only exeite her mind 1 with uncomf ortab'ie suspicions fcnd could do no good. So he held his toeace, and after a moment's pause, she continued: "My father was really frightened afc the* idea of having so very- valuable a jewel • in: hjs charge. So he and the Prince kept 'It' a perfect secret, and no one, not evenJC —had the slightest idea that such a thing was in the house — it is. absolutely . unaccountable that it should disappear as it has done-^isn't it?" . , ..;■ She looked at John Straight 6s she said . ii> is, .and jt«r' ; "beauiif al feyes .dilated Twith a mystified look, of surprise that made her appear even more like a child than she had done, the day before — when she had bewailed the fate of her . shipwrecked pudding. .Mr Straight was for a moment diverted by this thought from the consideration of the very serious subject before him, end he probably gazed more intently at fcer than 'he was' aware of, for she suddenly looked down, and a shade of bloom replaced the pallor in her cheeks. "It does seem unaccountable certainly," be answered, feeling rather ashamed of having allowed' any other thought to distract his mind from this matter which was troubling her' so deeply, "but unaccountable things often turn. out to be very easily comprehended when one happens on the clue to their solution— it is for that we must, search— oh.— by-fche-bye — what, was the reason for the diamond 'being left with Sir Richard, as he had not bought it. ij£ Was on a sort of approbation, I suppose ?" • '."It was left so that any father might consider the matter, and have /the stone valued toy. some> diamond merchants from ■London." - "<Had they valued it?" Straight asked the question eagerly. '? No— they weie to have come this afternoon, 'but papa is wiring to stop them.", 4 "Had theT?rince put any value on the fctone? Had he asked a price?" . ■ "I did not ask my father that — I- could not bear to ask him — I don't think' so — but the value must be enormous "—then her Voice dropped almost to a whisper as she added, "If it is not JEound he will — will be. ruined — I 1 am sure of it." And then ;ier fortitude euddenly forsook her, and covering her face with her hands she cobbed.' \. r . This was. a sore trial to poor Straight's powers of self-control ; though he was an Old Bailey barrister of .considerable experience, and had seen many women weep, the sight of Dora's tears, caused him an entirely ne.w experience in the way of sen : cations. He felt a maddening desire to snatch, her hands from her face, cover them with -kisses, and tell her '-that it did not matter a pin whether, her father was ruined or not, that he-'-John Straight — would take all the burden of everything that troubled' her on his own shoulders for ever. But he manfully resisted the desire. This, te knew, was not the sort- of language to address at such a moment to a girl whom fa3 had met but- the day before. So ho rose hurriedly, and turned bo the window, struggling d-esperately to find words to comfort her— but only succeeding in murmuring in a stifled voice: °'Oh, please don't. cry — please don't cry." j Presently Dora choked back her tears, and «aid falteringly : " Prav excuse me, Mr (Straight, for all the trouble I am giving you— l-— I- " "My dear child, for Heaven's sake don't speak of troubling me t" he cried, impetuously, coming back to her side in. a hurry. ;" It is no trouble — except as far as it d;s'tresses me to see "your distress," he sub- ! •joined, with that pathetic r'm'z in his voice ; which had so often won over a jury and j . turned the scale in his client's favour. It | won a look of gratitude fro-n the dart -eyed ; .girl at Ms side, which caused hi» good] Ire-~olutions to fbake almost to their fouu- j dations. Another such look and he folt • that, prudence would be overpowered; so lie turned to the window again, striving jbo nail his thoughts to fche loss of the •" diamond and to think of the legal aspect '/.pi the case. . f "You must not let the matter , distress Jrou so seriously," be went on presently, ♦"^because, even supposing. the diamond to j jbe irrevocably lost, which is," of course, a j oiere supposition, for. I am certain its where- | aboiits will soon be discovered ; .but everij Buonosiner it to he lost, it does not necesnarily follow^ that your father would be liable for it." . "Whv not?" she asked in astonishment. "Well, it is a rather complicated matler," h« said, smiling: "it involves the intricate question of bailments ; perhaps you toever heard the word ibefore?" "I never did." "Then I must explain, that it means •(roods delivered- on trust.' Now, there are 'different kinds of bailment from a legal f»oint of Tievr, and it depends upoa the waxa tajon your v fether- took th©^

stone into.his keeping wheth-er he be liable j in the sight of the law as a. bailee." I "A bailee! What is that?" asked Dora, sailing a little, too. ■ "A bailee is a- term we lawyers use to denote a person to .whom goods are given I to hold in trust of some kind ; > there are cases in which the bailee is liable, and again ther© are others in wiich he would not be liable." • " But my father had the diamond ; and if jhe has lost it, of course it would be only honest 'to pay for it." "Ah, but I was speaking of his legal standing as a bailee. Of cour^ Ido not yet know.the exact conditions under which he accepted charge of the stone, nor probably do you. I can't pronounce any opinion until I have asked Sir Richard a few questions, ibut what I want to impress upon you is that it is quite possible^ — -under the circumstances— that Sir Richard may not be legally liable in the matter at all." "But he would be liable if. he had the diamond and lost' it, surely. He cannot deny that he had it?" ' „ -" Well, as I said, it is an 'intricate question; it depends a good deal on the evidence he can give as to the- terms under which he obtained custody of the stone,. but what I want 'you to do is not to' distress yourself by running away with the idea that your father may be liable for an immense sum, when legally he may not be liable for anything at all." ' " Ah," . she said, shaking her head incredulously, "if it is not found he will be liable" for it, whatever it is worth." " Not necessarly." "H& will never go into the legal question. I mean he will never think , of whether he is legally liable or hot. He tc«k the. diamond, and if he unfortunately lost it, or someone stole it from him, he will consider that he ought to pay for it all the same, and he will. I know him so well, you see," she said looking at Straight with her large hazel eyes full of a pathetic melancholy, that made them even sweeter than before. " I know what he > will dohe will let himself be ruinedi but he will pay what he .justly owes." . Straight could not say that he thought thk 'was Quixotic. How could he tell the girl .that the law sometimes makes provision' for moral dishonesty, or urge her to console herself with -the .... .idea, that her father might escape from a grave difficulty by doing violence to the stern principles of honour which were evidently his? He renceinbered Smith '.> description of the- baronet in the letter received l that morning, and could weil "imagine him to be one of those men not common certainly, but occasionally to be found, who would face, even beggary rather than go against t'iieir conscience. He sighed. Then he said, speaking as cheerfully as he could, and still looking out of the window, so that he might steel himself from weakness by avoiding the pathos in Dora's eyes, "My dear Miss ! Chesney, you must, not take tnis view of the matter -at all. You must no^' think of , i th« diamond as being lost. You must'only consider that r$ has tempoi-arily^jtlisap-peared. Our business now is to finfi^^.ere it has disappeared to, and the first %o|§gi;.tq do with that end in view will 'be to wirfr to Scotland Yard, and get Detective j(add ! down with. as little delay as possible. H& is first-rate. I've never known him to- — -" Straigbit's voice suddenly ceased, hei^brok-e off. abrup&y '', a. look of 1 wnst&natit^Fpifiiig- ' ing iufco his- eyes. Ifc was nat because his vocal chords had gone wrong' again, his nervous system was not involved in the loss of voice* tibat overtook him on this occa-i sion, at least, not in the. manner alluded to by the specialist of Cavendish Square, the words were arrested by a flash of memory, which brought to his mind with lightning speed an answer to the question which i had clamoured so vehemently fora reply the day before. : Just as the words, " I have never known him to fail " were spoken, the recollection rushed back to him that he- was wrong, for [ he had once known Jadd to fail, and with the recollection of that he had vainly endeavoured to beat' from his memory on the previous day came hurrying back with vivid clearness, bringing tiie answer to the question .raised by the sight of Mademoiselle de Jude : " Where have I seen that face before?" and into his mind rushed a long-forgotten name. It was Sonia Kourapatkin. . He' started as if he had been shot. Dora and her distress, the unwonted emotions she had aroused, and the mystery of the vanished diamond were for the momentswept from his remembrance, as surging back with irresistible force came the scene, that this name brought . back t» him with hideous clearness. -. ' • . The scene was the Extradition Court at Bow Street, and Sonia Kourapatkin, with two men, stood in the dock, charged witii the forgery of rouble notes !'. It all returned to him as. if it had happened tine weei beforej although two years had passed since , that day. He had been [ the prosecuting counsel in the case. The ; evidence against the three was overwhelming, and the Russian Government had pressed for' extradition, but her counsel had succeeded in inducing the magistrate to allow Sonia, to bt reiea-sed for a- week, until the next 6itting of the Court, on bail given by a Jew, who was apparently in a large way of business in the city. Wben the week; expired, however, neither she nor the bail was forthcoming. 1 Both had absconded, and the police had never been able to trace either of them. Jadd had been quite unsuccessful in unearthing taeni. They had disappeared waul yesterday, when one h#d reappeared again in the person of Made-/ . mobeile de Jude ! ■ / Of this he felt as absolutely certain as 1 that the old turkey cock which had strayed on to the grass plot in front of the house was a "turkey cock and not a bantam fbwl. • | He was certain of it, in spite of the faeb that in .the dock Sonia Kourapatkin's hair had b&en yellow — and her evebrow's fair, j and that now Mademoiselle de Jude'« .were as dark as her eombre eyes. She badl i changed the colour of her hair, but she could not alter. the expression and the features of. her uniorgotten face. His keen memory recalled them - with infallible ceri tainty, and as he realised all that this reyej lation might imply of calamity to the in- • uocent girl sitting near him, the bright ' scene outside swam before his eyes, and he I felt for a moment overwhelmed. j He. pulled himself together quickly, how- • ever ; it was no time to give way to weakness of any kind. ' He knew that in these cases, delays" were more than ever dangerous. :He turned hastily to Dora. " Miss Chesney, you have a trap with you. May I use it to send a telegram?" She had been sitting with her hands clasped in her lap, fixed on them, j. her thoughts absorbed ui a gloomy reverie, iAt the sound of his voice she> star ted. • j "I will take it myself !" she said. "The telegraph office is at the railway station at Pembridge ; it is nearly three miles off." .' " Ah !" he exclaimed with alacrity, as a thought struck hiih, "pardon me one moment." He, turned to a side-table, where his books and papers were* arranged, . took up a railway guide and examined^ rapidly, and then glanced at his watch. '. It was . five minutes past nine. , "Do you think you can get 'to the station in twenty minutes?" he asked. "Oh, yes.. Roger-r-the horse, I mean-r---is fresh. He wiil easily do ib in twenty minutea. The road is good^ but--"- she^

hesitated and looked at- the table— "are you j coming with me. But your breakfast is not j finished, Mr Straight." ' I He might have answered " No — nor even beerun," but he prevaricated slightly, -Surely "the urgency of the case was an excuse for his fib. " IVe had plenty," he declared. " I was at it before you came in." " His cup of coffee, stone 'cold, of course, was standing on the talble. He swallowed it, and in another moment was assisting Dora to mount the dogcart. " It is so very kind of you to take all this trouble for us!" she said, as they started at a rattling pace, "and to come with me.- My father will be so glad to see you— that is, if you can spare the time to come home with mo when you have. sent the telegram," she. added questioningly. "Of course lean .spare the time! It ia a very cheap gift just now, for I have actually nothing on earth to do with it!" He was casting about for words with' which to question her about her governess without raising fresh alarm in her mind, and he was uneasily glancing at his watch every few minutes, as; if ithat would hasten the horse's legs. The certainty that Sonia Kourapatkin was the thief had, of course, taken firm possession of his mind, and he was full of di<ead that she would escape him before he had time to come face to face with her. Ib was this thought that made him suddenly consult the time-table which had. told him that the first train from Pembridge left at 6.20r-the nest at 9.30. "Did she recognise me yesterday?" he ruminated. "I believe she did — there can hardly be a doubt that she did in fact. She will surely fly! but has she done so already — or — can I bo in such luck, by Jove, as to land her at the station! She will hardly contemplate this move, and may take the chance of Miss Chesney's back being turned to walk off to the railway. Jfot a. soul among them has any suspicion of her. She has the coast clear ! Heavens ! Can Fate mean to put her quietly into my hand like this!" He was rapidly working hTmself into a state of excitement as a vivid-jpicture forced itself more and more strongly on his mind. A picture of the triumphant conclusion of this mysterious affair. His imaginative mind was realising the whole scene as if he were actually going through it all. The arrival at the station, . Mademoiselle at the ticket; "office, or stepping into the train, his hand on her arm, leading her into the waiting-room, the disgorging of the great stone, and then— then — everything was blotted out by the thought of the joy and gratitude that would light up a pair of large dark eyes — that would even fill them with tears, perhaps— tears of happiness and — and— — Alas! why does reality so rarely come up to the efforts of a little exercise- of imagination ? Why does what happens so seldom equal what might happen if our dreams came true. . All the " airy fabric" his brain had- run up so quickly came down with a crash a few minutes after when they drew Tip beside the yellow palings of the little station platform which was empty of passengers, and when he saw the train arrive, discharge one or two Sussex yokels and depart again taking nothing living from Pembridge to the Metropolis 'but a varied consignment of market hampers .containing "screeching fowls. He alnijpgt laughed at his own absurdity in beinipsjo^'disappointed because his castle in the air' had melted into mist. Then he : despatched a. wirevaddressed to. :^_ \.. r Detective Inspector Jadd, ' Criminal investigation Department, Scotland Yard, London. Ho put his own name to it. He knew that would be sufficient to bring Jadd' down by the next available train. As he turned to the waiting trap Dora's eyes greeted him with a little smile of gratitude, and, though he had succeeded so well in restraining his tongue within commonplace bounds, he could not .for the life of him keep his answering glance from speaking eloquently. It expressed his admiration perhaps as warmly as any words could have d.one. She turned her eyes quickly to the whip and reins, resuming her function of driver with a little nervous haste, while the delicate rose of her soft face deepened. "We have lost no time in doing the right thing," he said as he climbed into the seat beside her and tried to dissipate the embarrassment he had caused her by speaking in a businesslike manner. She did not reply, and they set off even more rapidly than they had come, the horse feeling that it \vas heading for home. •• Your French governess Mademoiselle de Jude has been with you about three months, I believe, Miss Chesney?" They had proceeded about a mile in silence when Straight asked the. question. Hi really wanted information, but he wanted also to set his companion at ease again, . and- he succeeded. " Yes," she answered, " nearly three months, but '"—then she looked at him with a, startled expression — " why do you ask, Mr Straight?" and then she almost laughed. "Oh. surely you do not guspect poor Mademoiselle !" She had lowered her voice almost- to a whisper, and gave a little srlance backward to where the- groom ; was sitting. The barrister made no reply, and she. went on in the eame tone. " Oh, .you must not have such & suspicion for a moment, Mr . Straight. Why, it was our. rector who advised papa to have her. tone is of a very good French family, and a dear creature." You must not think such terrible things of my poor Mademoiselle— besides, even if she Vere the worst person in the world she could not possibly have had anything 1 zo<do with it— she knew no ; more of the diamond being in the h^ese than you did. She wasn't even here when Prince Akbar came ; she had gone to Hastings two days before to see some old pupils, ' and she only returned yesterday morning !" This cert ami v seemed w> shroud the mystery in a deeper gloom, but it had little effect -in shaking the K.C.'s conviction. He knew more of .Mademoiselle de Jude than Dora, or thought he- did at all events. That she was Sonia Kourapatkin he had no shadow of a doubt. However," he did not persist with his inquiries. He had suco&eded in breaking the embarrassed silence his too ardent glances had raised, and was thankful to Mademoiselle de Judo for her assistance in the matter. Nevertheless, as they nea-red the Court Iris uneasiness lest she" should escape him returned, and he sprang eagerly to the ground as the dogcart draw up, and assisted Pora, &o alight almost before the gtooni had' time to l&f---himself down from, his seat behind. Dora leil the -way, without speaking, through the galleiitd hall, and Straight- fallowed, in silence. She did not go to the library door as &he had done the day before,, but to a room at the opposite side of fche vestibule. "Father never sits in the library when ha is worried, he' is surd to be h-ere," she said softly, as she' paused before turning the handle. 'Then all the trouble -that had overwhelmed her father rushed- back to her mind. She turned, to Straight beseechingly, with eyes- suddenly brimming with tears, and said pathetically : ' ' • , " Oh, Mr Straight, you will help him, won't you?" ' Mr Straight's vocal chords again failed. This time his nerves undoubtedly were at fault; for the moment he actually could not speak. ' ■ The next'instant Dora had- hastily turned the handle and entered Sir Richard's study"Papa, I have come back— and— -and-r^' Mr Straight is* here." Her voice faltered, and ' Straight ■ immediately came to her re-

lief. "I am delighted to make your, ac- ; quaintance, Sir Riuliard," he said, heartily, ' " and to be able to offer my best assistance ■ hi' this unpleasant affair." _ j ■ Sir Richard Chesney .was seated at liis j writing-table, not writing, bufsitting. with his head leaning on his hand, buried -;jn thought. He started up, looking" from His daughter to tha eminent K.C., who had > coaie in with her. He was a tall, finelooking man, with a military moustache. He rose and extended his hand. Straight saw. that it- trembled slightly', and that he was with an effort. suppressing his agitation. "It is not found, papa '!" said his daughter, mournfully. .- ■':':.■■ Her father shook his head. "No,. my dear, no." " "-'-1 " I have taken the liberty of acting on your 'behalf, Sir .Richard," continued Ms visitor, " and have- wired for Detective Jadd ; he is the keenest itaud for unravelling j a mystery in the three kingdoms, or in the civilised World, rather — for I don't believe • his equal is to be> met with. I expect, him goon after mid-day, if he catches , an early express." ' / * 4 1 thank you, Mr Straight," said ithe baronet, warmly. "It is truly kir.d| of you to interest yourself in our loss.'/, .1 have often wished tt> meet you. I am only sorry that the circumstances of our meeting are not more cheerful, but I. really don't see how a detective is to be of ;any use in the matter. The diamond ■ could not have been stolen — it is impossible—Absolutely impossible for anyone " v. : His words were interrupted by the bursting open of the door, and the entrance of a middle-aged sparely-built young man of about eight and twenty or thirty years of age'. He had ai handsome face, keen dark eyes and a black moustache.- He entered the room with abrupt haste, exclaiming tx--. citedly bsf ore he noticed the presence of Dora and Straight. ' ■'■'■'' "By Jove, uncle, we're on their track! I told you had been at work, and here I have positive evidence of it! See what I have found!" (To be continued. )