The Diva's Ruby

by F. Marion Crawford

  CHAPTER IX

  Logotheti reached his lodgings in St. James's Place at six o'clock inthe evening of the day on which he had promised to dine with Van Torp,and the latter's note of excuse was given to him at once. He read it,looked out of the window, glanced at it again, and threw it into thewaste-paper basket without another thought. He did not care in theleast about dining with the American millionaire. In fact, he hadlooked forward to it rather as a bore than a pleasure. He saw on histable, with his letters, a flat and almost square parcel, which theaddressed label told him contained the Archaeological Report of theEgyptian Exploration Fund, and he had heard that the new number wouldcontain an account of a papyrus recently discovered at Oxyrrhynchus,on which some new fragments of Pindar had been found. No dinner thatcould be devised, and no company that could be asked to meet him atit, could be half as delightful as that to the man who so deeply lovedthe ancient literature of his country, and he made up his mind at oncethat he would not even take the trouble to go to a club, but wouldhave a bird and a salad in his rooms.

  Unhappily for his peace and his anticipated feast of poetry, he lookedthrough his letters to see if there were one from Margaret, and therewas only a coloured postcard from Bayreuth, with the word 'greetings'scrawled beside the address in her large hand. Next to the card,however, there was a thick letter addressed in a commercial writing heremembered but could not at once identify; and though it wasapparently a business communication, and could therefore have waitedtill the next morning, when his secretary would come as usual, heopened it out of mere curiosity to know whence it came.

  It was from Mr. Pinney the jeweller, and it contained a full andconscientious account of the whole affair of the theft, from themoment when Logotheti and Van Torp had gone out together until Mr.Pinney had locked up the stone in his safe again, and Baraka and Spirohad been lodged in Brixton Gaol. The envelope contained also a cuttingfrom the newspaper similar to the one Margaret had received from LadyMaud.

  Logotheti laid the letter on the table and looked at his watch. It wasnow a quarter-past six, and old-fashioned shops like Pinney's closerather early in the dull season, when few customers are to be expectedand the days are not so long as they have been. In the latter part ofAugust, in London, the sun sets soon after seven o'clock, andLogotheti realised that he had no time to lose.

  As he drove quickly up towards Bond Street, he ran over thecircumstances in his mind, and came to the conclusion that Baraka hadprobably been the victim of a trick, though he did not exclude thebare possibility that she might be guilty. With all her cleverness andnative sense, she might be little more than a savage who had picked upEuropean manners in Constantinople, where you can pick up any mannersyou like, Eastern or Western. The merchant who had given her a letterfor Logotheti only knew what she had chosen to tell him, and connivedin her deception by speaking of her as a man; and she might have toldhim anything to account for having some valuable precious stones todispose of. But, on the other hand, she might not be a Tartar at all.Any one, from the Bosphorus to the Amur, may speak Tartar, and pretendnot to understand anything else. She might be nothing but a cleverhalf-bred Levantine from Smyrna, who had fooled them all, and reallyknew French and even English. The merchant had not vouched for thebearer's character beyond saying that 'he' had some good rubies tosell, called himself a Tartar, and was apparently an honest youngfellow. All the rest was Baraka's own story, and Logotheti really knewof nothing in her favour beyond his intimate conviction that she wasinnocent. Against that stood the fact that the stolen ruby had beenfound secreted on her person within little more than half an hour ofher having had a chance to take it from Pinney's shop.

  From quite another point of view, Logotheti himself argued as Margarethad done. Baraka knew that he possessed the ruby, since she had soldit to him. She knew that he meant to have it cut in London. She mighteasily have been watching him and following him for several days inthe hope of getting it back, carrying the bit of bottle glass of thesame size about with her, carefully prepared and wrapped intissue-paper, ready to be substituted for the gem at any moment. Shehad watched him go into Pinney's, knowing very well what he was goingfor; she had waited till he came out, and had then entered and askedto see any rubies Mr. Pinney had, trusting to the chance that he mightchoose to show her Logotheti's, as a curiosity. Chance had favouredher, that was all. She had doubtless recognised the twist on thecounter, and the rest had been easy enough. Was not the affair of theAscot Cup, a much more difficult and dangerous theft, still fresh inevery one's memory?

  Logotheti found Mr. Pinney himself in the act of turning the discs ofthe safe before going home and leaving his shopman to shut up theplace. He smiled with grave satisfaction when Logotheti entered.

  'I was hoping to see you, sir,' he said. 'I presume that you had myletter? I wrote out the account with great care, as you may imagine,but I shall be happy to go over the story with you if there is anypoint that is not clear.'

  Logotheti did not care to hear it; he wished to see the ruby. Mr.Pinney turned the discs again to their places, stuck the little keyinto the secret keyhole which then revealed itself, turned it threetimes to the left and five times to the right, and opened the heavyiron door. The safe was an old-fashioned one that had belonged to hisfather before him. He got out the japanned tin box, opened that, andproduced the stone, still in its paper, for it was too thick to be putinto one of Mr. Pinney's favourite pill-boxes.

  Logotheti undid the paper, took out the big uncut ruby, laid it in thepalm of his hand, and looked at it critically, turning it over withone finger from time to time. He took it to the door of the shop,where the evening light was stronger, and examined it with thegreatest care. Still he did not seem satisfied.

  'Let me have your lens, Mr. Pinney,' he said, 'and some electric lightand a sheet of white paper.'

  Mr. Pinney turned up a strong drop light that stood on the counter,and produced the paper and a magnifier.

  'It's a grand ruby,' he said.

  'I see it is,' Logotheti answered rather curtly.

  'Do you mean to say,' asked the surprised jeweller, 'that you hadbought it without thoroughly examining it, sir--you who are anexpert?'

  'No, that's not what I mean,' answered the Greek, bending over theruby and scrutinising it through the strong magnifier.

  Mr. Pinney felt himself snubbed, which had not happened to him for along time, and he drew himself up with dignity. A minute passed, andLogotheti did not look up; another, and Mr. Pinney grew nervous; a fewseconds more, and he received a shock that took away his breath.

  'This is not my ruby,' said Logotheti, looking up, and speaking withperfect confidence.

  'Not--your--ruby!' Mr. Pinney's jaw dropped. 'But----' He could get nofurther.

  'I'm sorry,' Logotheti said calmly. 'I'm very sorry, for severalreasons. But it's not the stone I brought you, though it's just aslarge, and most extraordinarily like it.'

  'But how do you know, sir?' gasped the jeweller.

  'Because I'm an expert, as you were good enough to say just now.'

  'Yes, sir. But I am an expert too, and to the best of my expert beliefthis is the stone you left with me to be cut, the day beforeyesterday. I've examined it most thoroughly.'

  'No doubt,' answered the Greek. 'But you hadn't examined minethoroughly before it was stolen, had you? You had only looked at itwith me, on the counter here.'

  'That is correct, sir,' said Mr. Pinney nervously. 'That is quitetrue.'

  'Very well. But I did more than merely look at it through a lens orweigh it. I did not care so much about the weight, but I cared verymuch for the water, and I tried the ruby point on it in the usual way,but it was too hard, and then I scratched it in two places with thediamond, more out of curiosity than for any other reason.'

  'You marked it, sir? There's not a single scratch on this one!Merciful Providence! Merciful Providence!'

  'Yes,' Logotheti said gravely. 'The girl spoke the truth. She had twostones much larger than the rest when she first came
to me in Paris,this one and another. They were almost exactly alike, and she wantedme to buy both, but I did not want them, and I took the one I thoughta little better in colour. This is the other, for she still had it;and, so far as I know, it is her legal property, and mine is gone. Thethief was one of those two young fellows who came in just when Mr. VanTorp and I went out. I remember thinking what nice-looking boys theywere!'

  He laughed rather harshly, for he was more annoyed than hisconsideration for Mr. Pinney made him care to show. He had lookedforward to giving Margaret the ruby, mounted just as she wished it;and the ruby was gone, and he did not know where he was to findanother, except the one that was now in Pinney's hands, but reallybelonged to poor Baraka, who could certainly not sell it at present. Amuch larger sum of money was gone, too, than any financier could losewith equanimity by such a peculiarly disagreeable mishap as beingrobbed. There were several reasons why Logotheti was not pleased.

  So far as the money went, he was not sure about the law in such acase, and he did not know whether he could claim it of Pinney, who hadreally been guilty of gross carelessness after a lifetime ofscrupulous caution. Pinney was certainly very well off, and would notsuffer nearly as much by the loss of a few thousand pounds as from theshame of having been robbed in such an impudent fashion of a gem thatwas not even his, but had been entrusted to his keeping.

  'I am deeply humiliated,' said the worthy old jeweller. 'I have notonly been tricked and plundered, but I have been the means of sendinginnocent people to prison.'

  'You had better be the means of getting them out again as soon aspossible,' said Logotheti. 'You know what to do here in England farbetter than I. In my country a stroke of the pen would free Baraka,and perhaps another would exile you to Bagdad, Mr. Pinney!'

  He spoke lightly, to cheer the old man, but Mr. Pinney shook his head.

  'This is no jesting matter, sir,' he said. 'I feel deeply humiliated.'

  He really did, and it was evidently a sort of relief to him to repeatthe words.

  'I suppose,' said Logotheti, 'that we shall have to make some kind ofsworn deposition, or whatever you call it, together, and we will goand do it at once, if you please. Lock up the ruby in the safe again,Mr. Pinney, and we will start directly. I shall not go back to mylodgings till we have done everything we can possibly do to-night.'

  'But you will dine, sir?' Mr. Pinney put that point as only awell-regulated Englishman of his class can.

  'I shall not dine, and you will not dine,' answered Logotheti calmly,'if our dinner is at all likely to keep those people in prison an hourlonger than is inevitable.'

  Mr. Pinney looked graver than ever. He was in the habit of diningearly, and it is said that an Englishman does not fight on an emptystomach, and will eat an excellent breakfast before being hanged.

  'You can eat sandwiches in the hansom,' said the Greek coldly.

  'I was thinking of you, sir,' Mr. Pinney answered gloomily, as hefinished the operation of shutting the safe; he did not likesandwiches, for his teeth were not strong.

  'You must also make an effort to trace those two young men who stolethe ruby,' said Logotheti.

  'I most certainly shall,' replied the jeweller, 'and if it is notfound we will make it good to you, sir, whatever price you set uponit. I am deeply humiliated, but nobody shall say that Pinney and Sondo not make good any loss their customers sustain through them.'

  'Don't worry about that, Mr. Pinney,' said Logotheti, who saw how muchdistressed the old jeweller really was.

  So they went out and hailed a hansom, and drove away.

  It would be tiresome to give a detailed account of what they did. Mr.Pinney had not been one of the principal jewellers in London for fortyyears without having been sometimes in need of the law; andoccasionally, also, the law had been in need of him as an expert invery grave cases, some of which required the utmost secrecy as well asthe greatest possible tact. He knew his way about in places whereLogotheti had never been; and having once abandoned the idea ofdinner, he lost no time; for the vision of dinner after all was overrose softly, as the full moon rises on a belated traveller, verypleasant and companionable by the way.

  Moreover, as the fact that Baraka and Spiro were really innocent hasbeen kept in view, the manner in which they were proved so is oflittle importance, nor the circumstances of their being let out ofBrixton Gaol, with a vague expression of regret on the part of the lawfor having placed faith in what Mr. Pinney had testified 'to the bestof his belief,' instead of accepting a fairy story which a Tartargirl, caught going about in man's clothes, told through the brokenEnglish of a Stamboul interpreter. The law, being good English law,did not make a fuss about owning that it had been mistaken; though itreprimanded Mr. Pinney openly for his haste, and he continued to feeldeeply humiliated. It was also quite ready to help him to find thereal thieves, though that looked rather difficult.

  For law and order, in their private study, with no one looking on, hadfelt that there was something very odd about the case. It was strange,for instance, that the committed person should have a large bankaccount in Paris in his, or her, own name, and should have made noattempt to conceal the latter when arrested. It was queer that 'Barak'should be known to a number of honourable Paris jewellers as havingsold them rubies of excellent quality, but that there should neverhave been the least suspicion that he, or she, took any that belongedto other people. It was still more extraordinary that 'Barak' shouldhave offered an enormous ruby, of which the description correspondedremarkably well with the one that had appeared in evidence at thePolice Court, to two French dealers in precious stones, who had notbought it, but were bearing it in mind for possible customers, andwere informed of Barak's London address, in case they could find abuyer. In the short time since Baraka had been in prison, yards ofciphered telegrams had been exchanged between the London and Parispolice; for the Frenchmen maintained that if the Englishmen had notmade a mistake, there must have been a big robbery of precious stonessomewhere, to account for those that Baraka was selling; but that, asno such robbery, or robberies, had been heard of anywhere in Europe,America, India, or Australia, the Englishmen were probably wrong andhad locked up the wrong person. For the French jewellers who hadbought the stones all went to the Paris Chief of Police and laid thematter before him, being much afraid that they had purchased stolengoods which had certainly not been offered for sale in 'market overt.'The result was that the English police had begun to feel rathernervous about it all, and were extremely glad to have matters clearedup, and to say so, and to see about the requisite order to set theprisoners at large.

  Also, Mr. Pinney restored the ruby to her, and all her otherbelongings were given back to her, even including the smart grey suitof men's clothes in which she had been arrested; and her luggage andother things which the manager of the hotel where she had beenstopping had handed over to the police were all returned; and whenSpiro appeared at the hotel to pay the small bill that had been leftowing, he held his head as high as an Oriental can when he has gotthe better of any one, and that is pretty high indeed. Furthermore,Mr. Pinney insisted on giving Logotheti a formal document by whichMessrs. Pinney and Son bound themselves to make good to him, hisheirs, or assigns, the loss of a ruby, approximately of a certainweight and quality, which he had lost through their carelessness.

  All these things were arranged with as little fuss and noise as mightbe; but it was not possible to keep the singular circumstances out ofthe newspapers; nor was it desirable, except from Mr. Pinney's pointof view, for Baraka had a right to be cleared from all suspicion inthe most public manner, and Logotheti insisted that this should bedone. It was done, and generously too; and the girl's story was sowonderfully romantic that the reporters went into paroxysms ofadjectivitis in every edition of their papers, and scurried about townlike mad between the attacks to find out where she was and tointerview her. But in this they failed; and the only person they couldlay hands on was Logotheti's private secretary, who was a middle-agedSwiss with a vast face that was as perf
ectly expressionless as aportrait of George the Fourth on the signboard of an English countryinn, or a wooden Indian before the door of an American tobacconist'sshop. He had been everywhere and spoke most known languages, for hehad once set up a little business in Constantinople that had failed;and his power of knowing nothing, when he had a secret to keep for hisemployer, was as the combined stupidity of ten born idiots.

  He knew nothing. No, he did not know where Baraka was; he did not knowwhat had become of her servant Spiro; he did not know where Logothetiwas; he did not know anything; if the reporters had asked him his ownname, he would very likely have answered that he did not know thateither. The number of things he did not know was perfectlyoverwhelming. The reporters came to the conclusion that Logotheti hadspirited away the beautiful Tartar; and they made some deductions, butabstained from printing them yet, though they worked them out onpaper, because they were well aware that Logotheti was engaged tomarry the celebrated Cordova, and was too important a personage to betrifled with, unless he had a fall, which sometimes happens tofinanciers.

  On the day following Baraka's liberation, Lady Maud receivedMargaret's pressing telegram begging her to go to Bayreuth. Themessage reached her before noon, about the time when Margaret and hercompanions had come back from their morning walk, and after hesitatingfor half-an-hour, she telegraphed that she would come with pleasure,and would start at once, which meant that evening.

  She had just read the official account of the ruby case in its newaspect, and she did not believe a word of the story. To her mind itwas quite clear that Logotheti was still infatuated with the girl,that he had come to London as fast as he could, and that he haddeliberately sworn that the ruby was not his, but another one, inorder to get her out of trouble. If it was not his it had not beenstolen from Pinney's, and the whole case fell through at once. If shewas declared innocent the stone must be given back to her; he wouldtake it from her as soon as they were alone and return it to his ownpocket; and being an Oriental, he would probably beat her for robbinghim, but would not let her out of his sight again till he was tired ofher. Lady Maud had heard from her late husband how all Turks believedthat women had no souls and should be kept under lock and key, andwell fed, and soundly beaten now and then for the good of theirtempers. This view was exaggerated, but Lady Maud was in a humour torecall it and accept it without criticism, and she made up her mindthat before leaving town to join Margaret she would make sure of thefacts. No friend of hers should marry a man capable of such outrageousdeeds.

  If she had not been an impulsive woman she could never have done somuch good in the world; and she had really done so much that shebelieved in her impulses, and acted on them without taking intoconsideration the possibility that she might be doing harm. But thedamage which very actively good people sometimes do quiteunintentionally is often greater and more lasting than that done bybad people, because the good ones carry with them the whole resistlessweight of real goodness and of real good works already accomplished.

  Perhaps that is why honestly convinced reformers sometimes bring aboutmore ruin in a few months than ten years of bribery and corruptionhave wrought before them.

  Lady Maud was a reformer, in a sense, and she was afraid of nothingwhen she thought she was doing right. She went to Logotheti's lodgingsand asked to see him, as regardless of what any one should think ofher, if she were recognised, as she had been in the old days when sheused to go to Van Torp's chambers in the Temple in the evening.

  She was told that Logotheti was out of town. Where? The servant didnot know that. The lady could see the secretary, who might, perhaps,tell her. He received every one who had business with MonsieurLogotheti.

  She went up one flight and was admitted to a very airy sitting-room,simply furnished. There were several large easy-chairs of differentshapes, all covered with dark wine-coloured leather, and eachfurnished with a different appliance for holding a book or writingmaterials. There was a long bookcase full of books behind glass. Therewas a writing-table, on which were half-a-dozen monstrously bigimplements of an expensive kind, but handsome in their way: apaper-cutter hewn from at least a third of an elephant's tusk, andheavy enough to fell a man at a blow; an enormous inkstand, apparentlymade of a solid brick of silver, without ornament, brightly polished,and having a plain round hole in the middle for ink; a blotting-caseof the larger folio size, with a Greek inscription on it in raisedletters of gold; a trough of imperial jade, two feet long, in whichlay a couple of gold penholders fitted with new pens, and the thickestpiece of scarlet sealing-wax Lady Maud had ever seen. They wereobjects of the sort that many rich men receive as presents, or orderwithout looking at them when they are furnishing a place that is to bea mere convenience for a few days in the year. There was nothingpersonal in what Lady Maud saw, except the books, and she could nothave examined them if she had wished to.

  The one thing that struck her was a delicate suggestion of sweetnessin the fresh air of the room, something that was certainly not ascent, and yet was not that of the perfumes or gums which someOrientals like to burn where they live. She liked it, and wonderedwhat it was, as she glanced about for some one of the unmistakablesigns of a woman's presence.

  The Swiss secretary had risen ponderously to receive her, and as shedid not sit down he remained standing. His vast face was fringed witha beard of no particular colour, and his eyes were fixed and blue inhis head, like turquoises set in pale sole leather.

  'I am Countess Leven,' she said, 'and I have known Monsieur Logothetisome time. Will you kindly tell me where he is?'

  'I do not know, madam,' was the answer.

  'He is not in London?'

  'At present I do not know, madam.'

  'Has he left no address? Do you not forward his letters to him?'

  'No, madam. I do not forward his letters to him.'

  'Then I suppose he is on his yacht,' suggested Lady Maud.

  'Madam, I do not know whether he is on his yacht.'

  'You don't seem to know anything!'

  'Pardon me, madam, I think I know my business. That is all I know.'

  Lady Maud held her beautiful head a little higher and her lids droopedslightly as she looked down at him, for he was shorter than she. Butthe huge leathern face was perfectly impassive, and the still,turquoise eyes surveyed her without winking. She had never seen suchstolidity in a human being. It reminded her of those big Chinesepottery dogs with vacant blue eyes that some people keep beside afireplace or a hall door, for no explicable reason.

  There was clearly nothing to be done, and she thought the secretarydistinctly rude; but as that was no reason why she should be, she badehim good-morning civilly and turned to go. Somewhat to her surprise,he followed her quickly across the room, opened the door for her andwent on into the little hall to let her out. There was a small tablethere, on which lay some of Logotheti's hats, and several pairs ofgloves were laid out neatly before them. There was one pair, of alight grey, very much smaller than all the rest, so small indeed thatthey might have fitted a boy of seven, except that they looked toonarrow for any boy. They were men's gloves as to length and buttons,but only a child could have worn them.

  Lady Maud saw them instantly, and remembered Baraka's disguise; and asshe passed the big umbrella jar to go out, she saw that with two ofLogotheti's sticks there was a third, fully four inches shorter; justa plain crook-handled stick with a silver ring. That was enough.Baraka had certainly been in the lodgings and had probably left inthem everything that belonged to her disguise. The fact that thegloves and the stick were in the hall, looked very much as if she hadcome in dressed as a man and had left them there when she had goneaway in woman's attire. That she was with Logotheti, most probably onhis yacht, Lady Maud had not the least doubt, as she went down thestairs.

  The Swiss secretary stood at the open door on the landing till she wasout of sight below, and then went in again, and returned to work overa heap of business papers and letters. When he had worked half anhour, he leaned back in his leathern chair t
o rest, and stared fixedlyat the bookcase. Presently he spoke aloud in English, as if Lady Maudwere still in the room, in the same dull, matter-of-fact tone, butmore forcibly as to expression.

  'It is perfectly true, though you do not believe me, madam. I do notknow anything. How the dickens should I know where they are, madam?But I know my business. That is all.'