shook her head sadly as the door was opened by Mrs Barclay, whoshrank back with a smile to let both enter; but Claire glided in, andRichard Linnell remained.
"I am glad," whispered Mrs Barclay. "Why don't you come in?"
"Hush!" he whispered. "Poor girl! she is half mad with her misery.Mrs Barclay, you must not let her go out of your sight. Good-night.Good-night."
He walked rapidly away, and Mrs Barclay followed Claire into thedining-room, where the poor girl was kneeling by a chair and weepingbitterly for the lost love that she felt could never be hers; but as shewept the tears seemed to give rest and lightness to her over-taxedbrain, and at last she sank fast asleep like a weary child, her headupon her old friend's lap, and her breathing coming more regularly anddeep than at any time since the night of the murder.
Volume Three, Chapter XXIII.
A REVELATION.
"Don't, pray don't talk to me, Mrs Barclay," said Claire piteously."Let me lie back here and think and rest for a few minutes, and then Imust go up to May."
"No, no, no, my dear; you let poor May alone a bit. She's getting onright enough, and you want more attention than she does. And don'tthink, my dear. Have patience. Things may turn out all right."
"No," said Claire, with a sigh. "There is no hope now."
"Oh, yes, there is!" said Mrs Barclay decisively. "Jo-si-ah says areprieve may come at any moment, for Lord Carboro is trying might andmain, and Mr Richard Linnell--ah, does that touch you?"
"No, no, hush!" cried Claire, in agony. "Don't mention his name."
"I shall," cried Mrs Barclay. "I shall say what I think will do yougood, my dear. Mr Richard Linnell has been working night and day, justas he did at the trial. Now he has been getting a petition signed byeveryone in Saltinville, and that's going to win, I think."
Claire caught her arm and looked at her with dilating eyes.
"Yes, I think that's going to do some good, and we've got to trust inProvidence, my dear, and wait."
"Yes, yes. I do pray fervently for help."
"And you've got to rouse yourself up, my dear, and do something to keepfrom thinking."
"I can't--I can't, dear Mrs Barclay."
"Oh, yes, you can, my dear. Not for yourself; I want you to help me."
"Help you?"
"Yes, my dear; help me."
"I'll try," said Claire sadly.
"That's my pet; I knew you would."
She embraced Claire tenderly, and then smoothed her hair, as if proud ofher.
"What shall I do?" she said to herself. "Booking? No: jools alwaysplease womenfolk. I like 'em myself."
"What am I to do?" said Claire. "I will try, Mrs Barclay. I must havebeen a great trouble to you."
"A great fiddlestick," cried the plump dame. "What nonsense! Now I'mgoing to just dust over and put down all the jools we have in the ironchest. Mr Barclay's securities, and some that he has bought. Healways likes me to look over them now and then, and mark off any thathave been sold or let out, and so on. You'll help me, won't you?"
"Willingly," said Claire sadly.
"That's a dear. Look there on the other side of the way. It's MrLinnell again. He's looking up. Go to the window, and return his bow,my dear."
"No, no, I could not," cried Claire excitedly.
"Well, then, my dear, I must," said Mrs Barclay, suiting the action tothe word, and not only bowing, but kissing her plump hands to Linnellagain and again. "There he goes," she exclaimed. "Poor young man! Idon't know whose fault it is, but some one's wrong; and I don't like tosee two who ought to be helpmeets keeping at a distance for nothing."
Claire's brow contracted, but she said no word, while, after diving intoa pocket somewhere beneath her voluminous skirts, Mrs Barclay broughtout a bunch of bright keys, with one of which she opened a great cabinetin a dark corner of the bric-a-brac filled room.
"Here's where we keep the jools, my dear," she said, as she took anotherkey and fitted it in a large iron safe within the cabinet. "My Jo-si-ahsays that no housebreakers could open that iron chest if they tried fora week. Now, you help me. Hold your apron and I'll fill it. Thenwe'll lay the cases on the table and look at them, and compare them withthe books, and then put 'em away again."
Claire smiled sadly as the eager little woman plunged her plump arm intothe safe and brought out, one after the other, the quaint, old-fashionedmorocco cases of every shape and size; and these were duly laid upon thetable, on whose cloth a space had been cleared.
Along with these was a canvas bag of the kind used in a bank forsovereigns, and a couple of chamois leather bags of similar size andshape.
"That's about all," said Mrs Barclay, bustling about with her eyesbeaming and her cheeks showing what an artist would term high lights."Now we'll have a good look at 'em, my dear; all grand people of title'sfamily jewels that they've had to sell or pledge through gambling at thetables. Ah, a very nasty sort of trade, my dear, buying and lending onthem; but, as Jo-si-ah says, some people will be fools, and if he didn'tmake money from them other folks would."
She placed a chair for Claire, and another for herself; and then,opening a drawer, she took out a ruddy piece of wash-leather, and whatseemed to be an ivory tooth-brush that had grown out of knowledge, and anail-brush in a state of consumption.
"I always give 'em a brush up, my dear, before I put 'em away. Jo-si-ahlikes to see 'em kept in good order. He says they look so much morevaluable when they're brought out."
She opened one faded red case by pressing on the snap, and laid bare adiamond necklet in old-fashioned silver setting, the gems sparkling inthe light as they were moved; for they were evidently of considerablevalue.
"There," she cried; "those once belonged to a duchess, my dear, butthey're ours now. Jo-si-ah said I might wear 'em if I liked; butthey're too fine for me. They'd look lovely on your soft white neck.Let me try 'em."
"No, no--pray!" cried Claire in alarm, as she shrank away with such alook of wild horror in her eyes that Mrs Barclay laid the jewels down.
"Why, my pretty!" she said tenderly, "what a fuss to make aboutnothing."
"Yes, yes, it was, I know," said Claire, with a forced laugh. "It wasvery foolish of me; but--don't--do that again."
"No; if you don't wish it, my dear, of course," said Mrs Barclay; andshe looked across wonderingly at her companion, for she could notcomprehend how the sight of those diamonds and the attempt to place themon her neck had recalled the back drawing-room at the house on theParade, with the hideous old woman sitting up in bed with her jewelsabout her on the coverlid and on her arms and neck. The sight ofdiamonds had become hateful to Claire, and she was ready to leave thetable, but the thought of seeming strange to Mrs Barclay restrainedher.
"Poor old girl! she had to wear paste, as lots of them do when they selltheir jewels, my dear. Ah, they're a beggarly set; when once they taketo gambling they don't seem to be fine ladies any longer. Back you goin the box."
_Snap_.
Mrs Barclay had given the diamond necklet a brush and a rub while shewas speaking; and then, taking up and opening a book, she handed it toClaire, bidding her look out for the Duchess of Duligne's diamonds, andmake a pencil tick against them.
This done and the morocco case replaced in the safe, another was takenup and opened, displaying a ruby and gold bracelet.
"There, I'll put that on my wrist," said Mrs Barclay, suiting theaction to the word. "I won't ask you to have it on, my dear. Somegirls would want to, and wouldn't like 'em taken off again. But you'redifferent to most people. Look at that now. Jewels always seem bestagainst skin and flesh, but there, my gracious, how fat I am getting!Why it won't snap round my wrist! Think of that."
She laughed as merrily as a girl as she held up the glittering gems, andthen started, with a loud "Lor' bless me!"
For just then there was a tremendous double knock at the door; and,jumping up with wonderful activity for one of her size, she trottedacross to the window.
"Why, it's Cor
a Dean, my dear. No, no: don't go," she continued, asClaire rose hastily.
"I do not feel as if I could meet her, Mrs Barclay," Claire pleaded.
"But she's nobody, my dear, and she'll be so hurt if you go, for I'msure to let out that you were here just now."
"Miss Dean, ma'am," said the servant, opening the door; and Claire'sindecision was cut short by Cora going
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