CHAPTER IX.
It was at dinner that Jimmy had his first chance of seeing the rope ofpearls which had so stimulated the roving fancy of Spike Mullins. LadyBlunt sat almost opposite to him. Her dress was of unrelieved black,and formed a wonderfully effective foil to the gems. It was not a ropeof pearls. It was a collar. Her neck was covered with them. There wassomething Oriental and barbaric in the overwhelming display ofjewelry. And this suggestion of the East was emphasized by thewearer's regal carriage. Lady Blunt knew when she looked well. She didnot hold herself like one apologizing for venturing to exist.
Jimmy stared hungrily across the table. The room was empty to him butfor that gleaming mass of gems. He breathed softly and quickly throughclinched teeth.
"Jimmy!" whispered a voice.
It seemed infinitely remote.
A hand shook his elbow gently. He started.
"_Don't_ stare like that, _please_. What is the matter?"
Molly, seated at his side, was looking at him wide-eyed. Jimmy smiledwith an effort. Every nerve in his body seemed to be writhing.
"Sorry," he said. "I'm only hungry. I always look like that at thebeginning of a meal."
"Well, here comes Keggs with some soup for you. You'd better not wasteanother moment. You looked perfectly awful."
"No!"
"Like a starved wolf."
"You must look after me," said Jimmy, "see that the wolf's properlyfed."
* * * * *
The conversation, becoming general with the fish, was not of a kind toremove from Jimmy's mind the impression made by the sight of thepearls. It turned on crime in general and burglary in particular.
Spennie began it.
"Oh, I say," he said, "I forgot to tell you, mother. Number Six wasburgled the other night."
Number Six-a, Easton Square, was the family's London house.
"Burgled!"
"Well, broken into," said Spennie, gratified to find that he had gotthe ear of his entire audience. Even Lady Blunt was silent andattentive. "Chap got in through the scullery window about one o'clock,in the morning. It was the night after you dined with me, Pitt."
"And what did our Spennie do?" inquired Sir Thomas.
"Oh, I--er--I was out at the time," said Spennie. "But somethingfrightened the feller," he went on hurriedly, "and he made a bolt forit without taking anything."
Jimmy, looking down the table, became conscious that his host's eyewas fixed gloomily upon him. He knew intuitively what was passing inMcEachern's mind. The ex-policeman was feeling that his worstsuspicions had been confirmed. Jimmy had dined with Spennie--obviouslya mere excuse for spying out the land; and the very next night thehouse had been burgled. Once more Mr. McEachern congratulated himselfon his astuteness in engaging the detective from Wragge's Agency. WithJimmy above stairs and Spike Mullins below, that sleuthhound wouldhave his hands full.
"Burglary," said Wesson, leaning back and taking advantage of a pause,"is the hobby of the sportsman and the life work of the avaricious."
Everybody seemed to have something to say on the subject. One younglady gave it as her opinion that she would not like to find a burglarunder her bed. Somebody else had known a man whose father had fired atthe butler, under the impression that he was a housebreaker, and hadbroken a valuable bust of Socrates. Spennie knew a man at Oxford whosebrother wrote lyrics for musical comedy, and had done one about aburglar's best friend being his mother.
"Life," said Wesson, who had had time for reflection, "is a housewhich we all burgle. We enter it uninvited, take all that we can layhands on, and go out again."
"This man's brother I was telling you about," said Spennie, "saysthere's only one rhyme in the English language to 'burglar', andthat's 'gurgler'. Unless you count 'pergola', he says----"
"Personally," said Jimmy, with a glance at McEachern, "I have rather asympathy for burglars. After all, they are one of the hardest-workingclasses in existence. They toil while everybody else is asleep. Theyare generally thorough sportsmen. Besides, a burglar is only apractical socialist. Philosophers talk a lot about the redistributionof wealth. The burglar goes out and does it. I have found burglarssome of the decentest criminals I have ever met. Out of business hoursthey are charming."
"I despise burglars!" ejaculated Lady Blunt, with a suddenness whichstopped Jimmy's eloquence as if a tap had been turned off. "If I foundone coming after my jewels and I had a gun handy, I'd shoot him. Iwould."
"My dear Julia!" said Lady Jane. "Why suggest such dreadful things? Atany rate, this house has never been burgled, and I don't think it'slikely to be."
"Beroofen!" said Jimmy, touching the back of his chair. As he did so,he met McEachern's eye, and smiled kindly at him. The ex-policeman waslooking at him with the gaze of a baffled but malignant basilisk.
"I take very good care no one gets a chance at my jewels," said LadyBlunt. "I've had a steel box made for me with a special lock whichwould drive the cunningest burglar on this earth mad before he'd beenat it ten minutes. It would. He'd go right away and reform."
Jimmy's lips closed tightly, and a combative look came into his eye atthis unconscious challenge. This woman was too aggressively confident.A small lesson. He could return the jewels by post. It would give hera much-needed jolt.
Then he pulled himself up.
"James, my boy," he said to himself, with severity, "this ishypocrisy. You know perfectly well that is not why you want thosepearls. Don't try and bluff yourself, because it won't do."
The conversation turned to other topics. Jimmy was glad of it. Hewanted to think this thing over.
From where he sat, he had an excellent view of the rope of pearlswhich was tugging him back to his old ways. And when he looked at themhe could not see Molly. The thing was symbolical. It must be one orthe other. He was at the crossroads. The affair was becoming a civilwar. He felt like a rudderless boat between two currents. Eight yearsof gem collecting do not leave a man without a deep-rooted passion forthe sport. As for that steel box, that was all nonsense. It wasprobably quite a good steel box, and the lock might very well besomething out of the ordinary; but it could not be a harder job thansome of those he had tackled.
The pearls shone in the lamplight. They seemed to be winking at him.
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