*CHAPTER XXV*
*THE DIAMOND MOTH AGAIN*
Beatrice Galloway's feelings were strangely mixed as she drove alongbeside her uncle towards Gower Street. It seemed as if lately the wholeworld had gone astray, as if all happiness had ceased to be. For manymonths past she had felt the loss of Wilfrid Mercer; indeed, she hadmissed him even more than she cared to acknowledge to herself. And yet,no sooner had he crossed her path again than all this trouble had comeback with him.
Of course, it was absurd to blame Wilfrid, but nevertheless, ever sincehe had shown his face at Maldon Grange there had been nothing but miseryand mystery.
And why did Samuel Flower hate the young man so? Beatrice had been halfashamed to admit it when discussing the matter earlier in the eveningwith Wilfrid, but she knew that he spoke no more than the truth when hesaid that her guardian was an enemy of his. Beatrice was by no meanssuspicious, but this fact had been thrust upon her.
And yet Samuel Flower professed that Wilfrid was a perfect stranger tohim. There was something here that Beatrice would have to get to thebottom of. Under the shadow of the darkness she could make out nothingof Samuel Flower's profile except that it was hard and set. She wasglad enough when the drive came to an end and the house in the squarewas reached at length.
Cotter stood waiting in the hall. He appeared to be full of eagernessand the desire to speak, when Flower checked him with a malignant frownand a flash of his eyes.
"Presently, you fool," he muttered.
"It won't keep, sir, indeed, it won't," Cotter muttered. "Jansen hasbeen here and must see you to-night. I told him you would not be backtill late, but he went away saying he would call again."
Beatrice, glancing up casually at her guardian saw that once more thepale grey tinge had crept over his face. The malignant look had diedfrom his eyes, giving way to a fear almost unspeakable. The girl hadnever heard this man's name before, and yet, quite by instinct, shecoupled it with something disgraceful and underhanded. What was thisnew terror? She walked quietly into the dining-room and threw her wrapsupon a chair by the side of the fire. As she laid her fan upon themantelpiece an object in a small box fell to the floor. Beatrice pickedit up carefully.
"I had almost forgotten," she murmured.
In a spirit of pure curiosity she raised the lid and the diamond mothflashed into view. Certainly it had been most careless of Uzali toleave the jewel on the supper-table after he had promised to get itrepaired. Beatrice had taken it almost mechanically from the waiter whohad brought it to her, and almost without thought carried it home. Shetook it casually from the box and ranged the two parts close together onthe table so that the light might fall upon it. Really, it was a mostlovely gem, one that any girl might be proud of, though Beatrice shrankfrom it as if it had been a thing of evil. In her mind it wasassociated with a series of dark tragedies, purple crimes and deeds ofviolence with which somehow her uncle was not unconnected. She laid herfinger upon the jewel almost with loathing. She was still contemplatingits sinister beauty when Flower entered the room and closed the doorcarefully behind him.
His mood had changed for the moment. He was by way of making himselfagreeable.
"I hope you won't think I was rude to you just now," he said, "but I amgreatly worried by business. Everything seems to have gone wronglately, and if things don't mend before long I shall find myself veryawkwardly situated. Like most successful men, I have enemies, and thereis a conspiracy amongst them to drag me to the ground."
Beatrice murmured something sympathetic. Flower was telling her nothingnew. She would have offered her assistance and advice had she thoughtit of the slightest use. She hardly heard what Flower was saying. Shedid not notice that he had broken off abruptly in his speech and thathis gaze was concentrated upon the diamond moth.
"So that is what you were talking about?" he said. "Upon my word, it isexceedingly handsome. I should like to know the history of that jewel.But didn't it strike you as strange that an unknown man should have madeyou a present of the missing part of the ornament?"
"I don't know," Beatrice said indifferently. "Nothing strikes me asstrange to-night. To begin with, it was such a remarkable gathering ofpeople. Everything seemed to be so free and easy that I was bewildered.You may laugh at me as you like, but when Mr. Uzali produced the missinghalf, I was not in the least astonished."
Flower was about to ask a question when he altered his mind. He wasleading up to a point cautiously.
"That being so," he said with assumed carelessness, "the man who madeyou this gift ought to have been rather an uncommon person to look at.What was he like? Did he resemble an adventurer or soldier of fortune?Was he a foreigner, or an actor, or what? As far as I could judge,though I was a long way off, he seemed a little insignificant man."
There was a forced gaiety in the speaker's voice which did not deceiveBeatrice.
"You are right," she said. "Mr. Uzali is a little man, and very plain,with features not unlike those of a good-looking monkey, yellow face andhands more like a bird's claw than anything else."
"Ah!" Flower exclaimed. "And his speech?"
"His speech told me nothing. His English was as good as yours or mine.Mr. Uzali is a polished man of the world and as much at home in thiscountry as in his own. But I thought it odd that his hand should beexactly like the one which I saw that night in the conservatory tryingto find the latch of the door. But you need not be unduly curious.Indeed, I understood Mr. Uzali to express a wish to make youracquaintance."
"He wants to know me?" Flower murmured. "He is anxious to come here--thething is preposterous. My dear child, you don't know what you aretalking about."
Flower paused as if conscious that he was saying too much. The darkmood had come back upon him. He paced up and down the dining-roommuttering. Then once more he realized that he was not alone, for heturned almost savagely to Beatrice and pointed to the clock on themantel.
"I daresay we are making much ado about nothing," he said. "Don't youthink you had better go to bed? I must finish some work before wereturn to Maldon Grange to-morrow."
"Are we going back to-morrow?" Beatrice asked.
"I think so," Flower said moodily. "On the whole, it is safer--I mean Iprefer the country to London."
Beatrice gathered up her wraps and departed, the old sense of comingtragedy stealing upon her again. But she was too tired to think aboutanything but bed. She touched her guardian's cheek with her lips, buthe did not seem conscious of her presence. No sooner had she gone thanCotter came into the room. He stood as if waiting for orders, his teethchattering, his whole aspect one of ludicrous terror.
"Well, you blockhead," Flower cried, "why don't you speak? Why standthere in that ridiculous attitude? Anybody would think you a childfrightened by a bogie. Where is your pluck, man? You used to haveplenty of it."
"Never a man with more," Cotter said half defiantly. "But I have seenwhat I have seen and I know what I know, and I will never possess eventhe nerve of a rabbit. Oh, why didn't we leave well alone? Whycouldn't we be satisfied with our ill-gotten gains? Surely you had morethan enough. For years I have been dreaming about this danger. Foryears I have known that it was coming. Sooner or later it was bound tofind us out. And the worst of it is, you can't fight it. It is milesaway one day and the next it stands grinning at your elbow. It may bein the house at the present moment for all I know, just as it was atMaldon Grange."
"Drop that!" said Flower fiercely. "Drop that, you lily-livered coward,or I will do you a mischief. Is there nothing in the world worthspeaking about except those yellow-faced devils who are after us now?Isn't it bad enough that Jansen should turn up at this moment?"
Flower paused as an electric bell in the basement purred loudly and asort of muffled cry came from Cotter as if he had been listening to hisdeath-knell. He stood gazing abjectly into Flower's face, his own whiteand sweat-bedabbled.
"Wake up, idiot," Flower said savagely. "Go and let him in. It is onlyJansen."
The Five Knots Page 25