“This second story is very easy to believe, if one could understand where the pearls were to be found.”
“Oh, that is easily explained. Humboldt was right in supposing that there was a communication with the Californian coast. There was a regular yearly journey to and from that place for the purposes of trade, and many of the Aztecs travelled thither purposely to engage in fishing for pearls. Whenever one of these fishers was fortunate enough to find a pearl of the kind demanded by the priests, he would hoard it up, and keep his good luck a secret. For with such a pearl could he not woo and win one of the fairest daughters of his tribe? We can well imagine that without such a pearl the more cautious of the beauties would turn a deaf ear to lovers’ pleadings, fearing to attract the eyes of the priests at the altar. Verily, in those days beauty was a doubtful advantage.”
“Yes, indeed. Now I understand what you meant when you said that each of these pearls might have its own romance. For, according to the legends, they are either the penalty or the price of love. But you have not told me the particular story of these pearls.”
“There may be as many as there are pearls, but I can tell you but one; though as that involves a story of crime, it will interest you I am sure. You will remember that when we were going to the yacht on that day when we solved the first opal mystery, I explained to you my reasons for buying up large gems. I think I told you of my first venture?”
“Yes; you overheard a plot to steal a ruby, and you went to the hostess and bought the jewel, which you then stuck in your scarf, where the plotters could see it and know that it had changed hands.”
“That is the tale exactly. You will consider it a curious coincidence when I tell you that these pearls came into my possession in an almost similar manner.”
“That is remarkable, I must say.”
“And yet not so remarkable, either, all things considered. Crime, or rather the method of committing a crime, is often suggested by previous occurrences. A body is found in the river dismembered, and is a nine days’ wonder. Yet, even though the mystery may be solved, and the murderer brought to justice, the police may scarcely have finished with the case before another dismembered body is discovered. Often, too, the second criminal goes unpunished; in imitating his predecessor he avoids, or attempts to avoid, his mistakes. I suppose that is easier than formulating an entirely new plan. So I imagine that the attempt to steal the ruby, which I frustrated, and the stealing of the pearls, which was successfully managed, may have some connection, more especially as both affairs occurred in the same house.”
“In the same house?”
“Yes, and within a month, or, to follow the legend, I might say in the same ‘moon.’ I was in New Orleans at the time, and as it was in the Mardi Gras season, masked balls were common occurrences. One who was especially fond of this class of entertainment was Madame Damien. She was a widow, not yet thirty, and as her husband, Maurice Damien, had belonged to one of the wealthiest and most distinguished of the old Creole families, there was no apparently good reason for denying her the rightful privilege of mixing with and receiving the best people of the city. Nevertheless, there were a few who declined to associate with her, or to allow the younger members of their households to do so.”
“What were their reasons?”
“Reasons there were, but of such an impalpable nature that even those who most rigorously shunned her, ventured not to speak openly against her. For reasons, it might have been said that she smoked cigarettes—but other good women did likewise; she entertained often, and served wine intemperately—others did the same; she permitted card-playing in her rooms, even for money stakes,—but the same thing occurred in other houses, though perhaps not so openly. Thus none of these reasons, you see, was sufficiently potent. But there were others, less easily discussed and more difficult to prove. It was whispered, very low and only in the ears of most trustworthy intimates, that Madame Damien permitted, nay, encouraged, young men to pay court to her. If true, she managed her courtiers most admirably, for openly she was most impartial in distributing her favors, while secretly—well, none penetrated the secrets of Madame Damien. One thing was certainly in her favor; there were no duels about her, and duelling was not uncommon in those days.”
“I should say she was a clever woman.”
“Just the word. Some, who could say nothing more, said she was altogether too clever. It was this woman who sold me the ruby.”
“The first acquisition to your collection?”
“Yes. I may as well briefly give you the facts, for thus you may see the connection between the two affairs. Land is not so valuable in our southern country as it is here in New York, and the houses of the wealthy are often in the midst of extensive gardens. Some of these not only have beautiful flower-beds, but likewise palms, cacti, oleanders, azaleas, and other tropical plants. Madame Damien’s residence was in a garden which might almost be called a miniature park. The paths were of snow-white oyster shells, rolled and beaten until they resembled smooth white marble. The hedges were of arbor vitæ cut with square top, except here and there where the trees were trained to form arched gateways through which the flower-beds could be reached. In places, often nearly concealed by flowering plants, were little houses,—lovers’ nooks they are called,—made also of trained arbor vitæ. Of larger trees there were the palmetto, the orange, and the magnolia. On fête nights these beautiful grounds would be illuminated with Chinese lanterns, sufficiently numerous to make the scene a veritable fairy picture, but not shedding enough light to interfere with the walks of lovers who sought the garden paths between the dances.”
“Your description reminds one of Eden.”
“The similarity is greater than you imagine, for the serpent lurked in the rose bowers. At one of Madame Damien’s masquerade fêtes I had left the warm rooms for a breath of the perfume-laden air without, and was walking along a path which led to the farthest end of the garden, when I was attracted by a stifled cry. I stopped and listened, and as it was not repeated I was just thinking that I had heard the mournful cry of a dove, when a tug at my sleeve caused me to turn quickly. At my side was a little creature in a green domino scarcely distinguishable from the shrubbery that lined the walk. The girl stood on her toes, drew my head down to hers, and in a frightened tone whispered:
“‘The men. They mean mischief—to them—in there.’
“She pointed to one of the little arbor vitæ houses near us, and turning fled back along the path before I could restrain her.
“Much mystified, I stepped softly toward the little house, intending to discover if possible who might be within, when I seemed to hear voices behind me. Listening intently, I traced the sounds to the opposite side of the hedge, and therefore I crept cautiously in that direction, satisfied that here were the men to whom the girl had made allusion. Here is what I heard:
“‘As they come out, we must follow them. When I whistle, you jump on madame; I will take care of him, I will undertake to hurt him enough to make him squeal. That will alarm madame, who will be so fearful lest her precious lover be hurt that you will have no difficulty in getting the ruby.’”
“Quite a neat little plot; only needs the detail of garroting to afford us a perfect picture of the Spanish brigand,” said Mr. Barnes.
“The men were undoubtedly professional thieves who considered the masquerade a good opportunity. As soon as they mentioned the ruby, I knew that the woman was none other than Madame Damien, who possessed a stone of rare beauty which she frequently wore. The point of greatest interest was that madame seemed about to lose her usual good luck by having one of her love affairs discovered. How could I warn her without myself learning who was with her? Strange though it may seem, I had no wish to know the name of her companion, so I hit upon an expedient. Going to the door of the little house I called aloud:
“‘Madame Damien! Will you allow me to speak to you a moment?’ Of course she did
not reply. From the deathlike stillness of the place one might have thought it empty. I was too sure, however, that she was there, so I spoke again.
“‘Madame, your very life is in danger, if you do not come out and speak to me.’ In an instant she was at my side, talking in a quick whisper.
“‘Who are you? What do you mean?’
“‘Pardon my intruding, but I was obliged to adopt this course, I assure you.’
“I was speaking loudly enough to be heard by the men on the other side of the hedge. ‘I was passing here just now, with no suspicion that you were here, alone,’—I purposely used the word, so that she might feel easy about her companion,—‘when I chanced to overhear the plotting of two ruffians who are even now hidden in the hedge. They are lying in wait for you, intending to rob you of your ruby.’
“‘Steal my ruby? I don’t understand.’
“‘Had I not heard their plan, they would undoubtedly have partly strangled you while they stole the jewel. It was to save you from the danger of this encounter and the loss that I felt it my duty to call you out to speak with me.’
“‘What shall I do?’
“‘I advise you to sell the stone to me.’
“‘Sell it to you? How would that help matters?’
“‘I have my check-book with me. You know who I am,—Leroy Mitchel. There is light enough by this lantern to write, and I have a fountain-pen. If you sell me the ruby, and take the check, you may safely go to the house. The would-be thieves are listening and perhaps watching us. Consequently, they will know of this transaction and will have no reason to follow you.’
“‘But yourself?’
“‘I can take care of myself, especially as I am armed, I shall follow you in a few moments, and I am sure no attack will be made upon me.’
“She hesitated a moment. She did not really wish to sell the stone, yet her only other alternative was to inform me that as another man was present we might go to the house together without fear. But not wishing to disclose the presence of this other man, she decided to sell me the stone, or rather to appear to do so, for her plan was to return my check later and recover the ruby. This offer she made to me on the following day, but I declined because the idea of forming my collection of rare gems had entered my mind when I heard the plotters talking. Before finally yielding she made one effort, being a plucky woman.
“‘I need not sell you the ruby, Mr. Mitchel, for if, as you say, you are armed, I have no fear of accepting your escort to the house.’
“This of course would have defeated my purpose, so I hastily explained to her that I wished to stay behind because I intended to attempt to capture one or both of the ruffians. Whether or not she might have found some other means of avoiding my offer, she did not think of one then, so she handed me the ruby and I gave her the check. After she had left me, I cautiously searched the hedges but met no one. I was satisfied, however, that the men had heard all that had passed, and I also believed that they might still imagine that there would be a chance to get the ruby, under the supposition that my purchase was but a pretense, and that as soon as I should return to the parlors I would restore the jewel. It was for this reason that I wore it conspicuously in my scarf.”
“What of the little woman in the green domino? Did you see her again?”
“I caught a glimpse of her only, though I am sure she got a better view of me. It was in the house. Here, also, there was a profusion of green, the place being literally strewn with potted plants. I was standing near a group of palms when I caught sight of my lady of the green domino, gazing intently at me. As she saw that I had detected her presence, she swiftly glided away, and I lost her in the throng. I was certain, however, that she saw the ruby in my scarf, and so knew that I had prevented the mischief of which she had warned me.”
“It would have been interesting to discover her identity.”
“All in good time, Mr. Detective. We come now to the story of the string of pearls. It was just three weeks later. Madame was holding another fête. Once more I was destined to play eavesdropper, though this time with even still more startling results. I had been dancing a quadrille, my unknown partner being charmingly dressed in a costume which at the time I did not understand. I had noticed her several times during the evening, standing always alone, apparently neglected by the young men. So I asked her to be my partner, rather in the spirit of giving her some of the pleasures of the evening, though you must understand that I was at that time young myself and quite susceptible to the charms of the opposite sex. She had seemed reluctant at first to dance with me, and then, as though impulsively altering her mind, she had expressed her willingness more in act than by any word, for she had not spoken. Clutching my arm nervously, she had led me a little way across the floor, and stopped where a couple was needed to fill a quadrille. En vis-à-vis35 was a couple who attracted her attention to such an extent that I almost imagined that my partner had brought me into this set with the purpose of watching them. The man was unmistakably dressed as Romeo, while the costume of his partner was as mystifying to me as that of the girl beside me. I afterwards learned that she was assuming the guise of Helen of Troy.”
“Your hostess, Madame Damien, I’ll be bound.”
“You make a good guesser, Mr. Barnes. Madame Damien it was, though, truth to tell, I was so much interested in the silent, watchful girl beside me that I paid little attention to the others. The quadrille had just ended and I was wondering how best to make my little sphinx talk, when a strange thing happened. The couple opposite to us crossed toward us, and as they approached my partner swayed as though about to fall, and then suddenly toppled over against me, and in a whisper she said:
“‘I am dizzy. Take me out in the air.’
“Just then, ‘Helen of Troy,’ hanging on the arm of her ‘Romeo,’ passed so close to us that the women’s costumes touched. She looked scrutinizingly at the girl with me, and I heard her say to her companion,—
“‘That girl is a sphinx.’
“‘Then they passed on. Her words startled me, for I had just used the epithet in my own mind in connection with my partner. I thought of her as a sphinx because of her silence. But now that some one else called her a sphinx, I observed that she wore a curious head-dress which reminded one of the great monument of the Eastern desert. Perhaps, then, she was but playing the part which she had assumed with her costume. At all events there seemed to be a mystery worthy of the effort at penetration. So I hurried out into the air with my little sphinx, and soon we were walking up one of the snow-white walks. I tried to induce her to talk, but though she seemed willing to remain in my companionship, she trembled a good deal but kept as mum as the stone image to which I now likened her. I was wondering by what device I might make her talk, when she utterly startled me by crying out:
“‘I wish I dared to tell you everything. Perhaps you might help me.’
“‘Tell me what you will, little one,’ said I, ‘and I will help you if I can, and keep your secret besides.’
“‘Oh, there is no secret,’ she exclaimed; ‘I am not so wicked as that. But we cannot talk here. Come, I know a place.’
“I followed her as she hurried me on, more mystified than before. She tells me ‘there is no secret,’ and that she is ‘not as wicked as that.’ Why need she be wicked, to have a secret? I could not fathom it, but as I was to know all, even though it were no secret, I was able to await the telling. Oddly enough, as it seemed to me then, she led me to the very lovers’ nook in which I had found Madame Damien when I purchased the ruby. Before entering, my little sphinx took the precaution to extinguish the lanterns at the doorway, so that when we passed inside we were in gloom as impenetrable as that of one of the passageways in the pyramids. She seemed familiar with the place, for she took my hand and led me away to one side, where there was a rustic bench. Here we sat down, and after a few minutes she began.
�
�‘You do not know me, of course,’ said she.
“‘Why, no,’ I replied; ‘how should I?’
“‘I was afraid you might have recognized my voice. But then I haven’t spoken much to you, have I?’
“‘No; but now I do recognize your voice at least. It was you who warned me, here at this very spot, at the last fête. Was it not?’
“‘Yes; I heard the men talking and I was afraid they might hurt—might hurt some one. Then you came along, and so I told you. I recognized you to-night because you have the same dress.’
“I began to suspect that the ‘some one’ whom she had shielded that night was not our fair hostess, but rather the man who had been with her. I was wondering whether it would be wise to ask her this question, or whether to wait for her to tell her story in her own way, when I was startled at feeling the softest of hands pressed tightly over my lips, and to hear a whisper close to my ear.
“‘Don’t speak,’ she said; ‘they are coming—they are coming here.’
“I strained my ears and at first heard nothing, but love sharpens the ears I suppose, for presently I did hear footsteps, and then low voices, growing louder as though approaching, and finally the persons, evidently a man and woman, actually entered our place of concealment. The situation was embarrassing, especially as that little hand still rested over my mouth as though warning me to do nothing. Luckily, the intruders did not come to our side of the place, but took seats apparently opposite. They were talking in earnest tones, the woman finishing a sentence as they came in.
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