XXXVII
THE TELEGRAM
Roger Sands had hardly known himself for many days. His wife had readhim aright. At times he was purposely cruel. At times he did wish to seehow much she could bear and not break. Yet if she had broken, he feltthat he could not have helped seizing her in his arms and forgiving her.
While he dressed that night he hoped that she would send for him, orcome to him, and confess that the pearls were gone, that she had giventhem to O'Reilly, whom she had once loved, and whom she loved no more.
But she neither sent nor came. She was bluffing it out to the last. Hemight have known she would do that, although he had taken her to herroom to give her one more chance to repent. At half-past seven he wasready, but he waited quietly ten minutes. Then he went to his door,meaning--as he said to himself roughly--to "get the thing over." But hepaused with his hand on the knob. He thought that he heard a woman'svoice saying: "May I come in?"
His muttered comment upon one of his and Beverley's guests, whom hesupposed the intruder to be, was far from flattering. Perhaps, however,it would be well not to find his wife alone. He would give Beverley afew minutes more, to be sure that her dress was on, before he went tointerrupt the chorus of mutual admiration; but no woman's presenceshould prevent him from asking the question he meant to ask--"Where areyour pearls?"
At exactly eight minutes to eight Roger ceased his restless tramp up anddown the room, and stopped again at the door. Before he could open it,however, there was a light tap--a tap like Beverley's in happier days."Can she mean, after all, to tell me the truth?" he wondered; and heheard his voice saying mechanically, "Come in."
Beverley came in; Roger's room was full of light, and as his wifeentered she faced it. She glittered from head to foot like an ice maidenunder a blazing sun. She wore a wreath of diamond roses; round her waistwas a girdle of diamonds with long tasselled ends; on her white satinshoes were diamond buckles; and over her bare, white neck, her younggauze-enfolded bosom, hung the rope of the queen's pearls.
"I thought you were coming in to see me dressed?" she said calmly. "Didyou forget?"
For answer Roger stared. He stepped back into the room, and let Beverleyshut the door. She stood before him smiling, though, if he had analyzedher smile, he would have said that it was sad. "How do you think Ilook?" she asked, when he did not speak. "I hope you're notdisappointed?"
"You have had those pearls copied!" he flung at her.
Beverley blushed bright crimson. She understood instantly what he meantand thought, but she had not gone through tortures and been relieved atthe last moment to be beaten down now.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyes steady, her head up.
"You thought I didn't know. But I have known from the first. I found outby accident. I always hoped you'd some day tell me the truth. This is acowardly thing you've done."
Beverley was again ivory pale. "Are you a judge of pearls, Roger?" shecoldly inquired.
"Yes," he said.
She lifted the rope over her head and thrust it, against his will, intohis hands. "Make any test you wish, and decide whether these are thepearls you gave me or an imitation."
Hardly knowing what he did, he walked to a table, on which stood a talllamp that gave a brilliant light. Beverley watched him. There was noemotion whatever on her face. After a moment he spoke: "These aregenuine pearls," he admitted, after a heavy silence. "And I have reasonto believe from certain marks that they are the pearls I bought for you,the queen's pearls. If you give me your word, that since I put them intoyour hands you did not part with them to Justin O'Reilly, as I havebelieved, I will beg your forgiveness on the knees of my soul. I willconfess to you--as I once expected you to confess to me."
"Hush! There's someone at the door!" Beverley cut him short.
It was Leontine who knocked, and paused on the threshold. "Will Madamehave the kindness to step into the hall," she asked. As her mistressmoved toward her, she retired, and it was not until they both stood atsome distance from the door that the Frenchwoman spoke.
"I beg Madame's pardon for disturbing her," she apologized, "but I darenot delay. The lady, Mees Blackburne, if that is her name, was about tostart back to town, but remembered a commission she had been given atthe apartment; to bring a telegram for me. I opened it, to find that forme there is no sense. I know no Stephen; but----"
"Stephen!" Beverley gasped the name, and snatched from the woman's handan open telegram she held. She read it, and then without a word or cry,collapsed in a dead faint. With a shriek of fear Leontine tried to catchthe swaying figure; but the best she could do was to break the fall.When Roger reached the door it was to find Beverley in a white heap onthe floor with the Frenchwoman kneeling by her side. He caught his wifeup, and, carrying her back into his room, laid her on the bed.
"Let everybody be told that dinner will be delayed half an hour," hesaid, and shut the door in Leontine's face. She snatched the droppedtelegram and whisked off to obey the master's command.
The Lion's Mouse Page 37