The Lion's Mouse
Page 13
XIII
"THERE CAN BE NO BARGAIN"
When Beverley Sands had shut the door between Clodagh's room and SisterLake's, she stood silent before Justin O'Reilly.
"Well, Mrs. Sands," he said, "I must congratulate you."
"On--what?" she stammered. She looked very young and humble, not at allthe proud princess who had captured Roger Sands against his will.
O'Reilly answered, still smiling his cruel smile, "It's not too late forcongratulations on your marriage, is it? By the way, perhaps one wisheswell to the bride and congratulates the bridegroom! I mean nothinginvidious."
"You mean to hurt me all you can!" Beverley cried.
"I'm on the other side, Mrs. Sands."
"Don't I know that!" she answered bitterly. "I've known since I saw youon board the Santa Fe Limited that day last September. I expected--someone else, not you. But I guessed in an instant why you had come."
"I accepted the obligations of friendship," O'Reilly deigned to explain."And that brings us to one of the subjects for congratulation: yourfriend. A wonderful young person. I congratulate you highly upon her.She informed me that she'd gladly die for you. Judging from her looks,she isn't far from doing so. I'm sure you must want to go to her now.Oh, by the by, one more congratulation: the pearls."
"How did you know?" Beverley forgot her humiliation in sheer amazement.
"Weren't you told that Heron was trying to buy them for his wife?"O'Reilly waived her question with another.
"No, indeed! They were a surprise present to me this afternoon from myhusband. If I'd known that Mr. Heron...."
"You don't expect me to believe you'd have sacrificed them to Heron, orhis wife, do you, Mrs. Sands?" O'Reilly laughed.
"I almost think I would. I'll give the pearls up to Mrs. Heron if you'lldo as--as Clodagh Riley asked you to do. Oh, for pity's sake! I'd paymore than the pearls for those papers. I'd pay with my life if thatwould be of any use. I know it wouldn't. But the pearls--can't webargain with the pearls?"
"We can't bargain at all, Mrs. Sands," O'Reilly said gravely. "I mustgo. I have an engagement to dine with the Herons. I should like to hearhow my namesake is, and then I will be off."
Beverley had expected little from an appeal to this man's pity, but thecoincidence of Heron's desire for the pearls was so strange that itought to mean something. It seemed terrible that such a chance should bewasted. Could she persuade Roger to let her give up the pearls? O'Reillywould look at the wonderful things and report upon their beauty. TheHerons might be tempted to treat with her. In any case, the scheme wasworth the trial.
Silently she went to the door that she had closed, and peeped intoSister Lake's room. It was no surprise to her that Clodagh should havevanished. That was part of the plan. Her exclamation was for O'Reilly'sbenefit.
"The child's gone!" she cried. "That means she's feeling better. Shemust be in my room--or in my boudoir. Will you come with me? We'll lookfor her. It will be on your way out."
O'Reilly followed into the hall. Beverley, thinking quickly, went to thedoor of her own special sitting room, which adjoined her bedroom. Abackward glance told her that the man had stopped facing the vestibulewhich gave exit from the flat. "Wait one moment," she said. "I'll seewhere Clodagh is." As she touched the door of the boudoir she wassurprised to find it yielding before she turned the handle. This wasodd, because she remembered shutting it the last time she came out. Shehad left the room only at the moment when O'Reilly brought in thehalf-fainting girl; and she had been particular to close the doorbecause of the pearls. She had placed them on a table in the boudoir,ready for the pearl-stringer. Not that she feared their being stolen!Her own maid had been sent out for the afternoon. Two of the otherservants had been given a holiday. Only the butler, the cook, and hisassistant were at home, and all three had been in Roger's employ foryears. They were above suspicion, and besides, they knew nothing of thepearls. Not a soul knew, save herself, Roger, Clo, and now O'Reilly.Roger had started off in his car before she brought the pearls from herbedroom into the boudoir. Who, then, had opened the door? Perhaps, afterall, Clo had not dared attempt the second adventure. Perhaps she wasstill in the flat, and for some reason to be explained later, had takenrefuge in the boudoir?
A glance, however, showed that the girl was not there. The electriclight flashed upon a room untenanted. There was the magnificent butbroken rope in its case, wound in gleaming, concentric circles, theunstrung pearls retrieved from the floor grouped together on the purplecushion. The door stood open between boudoir and bedroom. Beverleythought that this had been shut also, though she was not sure. "Clo!"she called softly. There was some slight sound, or she imagined it.Quickly she went to the bedroom door, and peeped in, flooding the placewith light. Clo was not to be seen. Turning off the electricity againBeverley went out to O'Reilly in the hall.
"Come with me one moment," she said. "I've something to show you."
O'Reilly hesitated.
"Is your friend there? Does she wish to speak to me?" he asked.
"Come and see," Beverley persisted. She led the way into the boudoir,and reluctantly her companion crossed the threshold. Mrs. Sands pointedto the pearls. "I wanted so much to show them to you. See how wonderfulthey are! Mr. Heron's so proud of his wife. I could arrange some plan,I'm sure, if--if----"
A door slammed, and Beverley's sentence broke off with a gasp.Mechanically she shut down the cover of the velvet case. If Roger hadcome back; if, after all, he had only pretended to go for thepearl-stringer! She dared not guess what he would think at findingO'Reilly with her in his house. Too well she remembered the day of theirone quarrel, when he had brought up this man's name in connection withClo's, when he had accused her of crying it out in her sleep.
"Mr. O'Reilly," she said, very quietly, "that may be my husband cominghome. If it is, you will have to meet him. It can't be avoided. But Ishould like to speak to him first, if you will wait in this room for amoment."
Without giving him time to answer she ran out. Minutes passed. Justinheard voices, women's voices. One, it seemed to him, was raised inanger. After all, it couldn't be Sands who had come! O'Reilly grewimpatient, and fumbling for his watch he found it gone. Great Scott!Stolen! He remembered a certain small key attached to the chain. In aflash of enlightenment the whole plot mapped itself out before his eyes.Furious, his impulse was to dash from the room and denounce the chiefculprit. But Beverley Sands' appeal to his chivalry stopped him like achain round his feet.
Now she called his name, and he opened the door.
"It was my friend's nurse who came in," she said. "She threatens toleave at once. I must talk with her, try to soothe her down before myhusband comes. He hasn't arrived, after all--and may not for a longtime. But the way I felt when I thought he was here, shows me I oughtn'tto keep you. Tell me once and for all before you go, now you've seen thepearls; is there any hope?"
"None whatever," O'Reilly cut her short. "I'm going, Mrs. Sands. Youneed have no fear of me where your husband's concerned, though Iunderstand now exactly why I was brought here, why I was kept till youwere afraid to keep me longer. Your little friend is as smart at pickingpockets as she is at acting. Again, I congratulate you upon her. But theeffort's going to be wasted. Good-night."
Beverley stood still, and let him go. She had no answer to make.Precisely what he meant by his accusation she did not understand, butshe knew that, while she detained him, Clo had indeed dared the greatadventure. For a moment Beverley thought of the pearls almost withdistaste. That they should come to her to-day, when she cared fornothing in the world but the lost papers, was an irony of fate. She didnot return to the boudoir. She forgot the mystery of the open door, andneglected to close it. She was nervously anxious to excuse herself toSister Lake. Above all, it was her duty to defend Clo. She must confessthat it was upon her errand the girl had defied authority.
"Please don't blame the child," she pleaded. "She knew I neededsomething done for me--a thing I couldn't do myself. So she made thissacrifi
ce. You must forgive us both."
But Sister Lake was not to be placated. If Miss Riley were well enoughto do Mrs. Sands' errands by day and night, a nurse's services were nolonger needed. Sister Lake considered herself well paid, and wouldaccept no present in addition. The butler was summoned to call a taxiand attend to sending down the small luggage. Meantime the Queen'spearls were forgotten.