Beverley merely smiled an answer, and wondered what Roger thought of her smile. He drew the curtain, and led her to rest, asking at the door that she would promise to call him when she was dressed. "I want to have a good look at you before you go downstairs," he added as he went out.
Adjoining Beverley"s bedroom was a small room whose wall appeared to be composed entirely of mirrors. It was a glorified wardrobe with mirror doors, and light and ventilation came from above. Behind the mirror doors were deep closets, some of which were lined with cedar, others with sandalwood; and at the back of one was an ingeniously concealed safe. In this safe Mrs. Roger Sands" jewels had already been placed, and among them was the empty case which had contained the queen"s pearls.
Beverley slid back the sandalwood panel, and opened the steel door behind it, which was manipulated by a miniature time-lock.
"Suppose I wear diamonds and emeralds," she thought, "and tell Roger they match better with my dress than the pearls--that I"ll wear the pearls another time?"
But at the best this would only postpone the evil moment.
She took off her dress of embroidered white organdie, and put on a _robe de chambre_. Then she dropped wearily down on a great, cushiony sofa, not to rest, but because she had nothing else to do.
It was very still in her room, save for a far-off murmur of waves below the rocks. When she had remained thus for about three quarters of an hour she sprang up, her brain throbbing more feverishly, her body quivering more uncontrollably than when she had lain down. It was close upon seven o"clock, and she rang for Leontine. Her hair had to be done, and the whole process of dressing would need quite an hour.
"I daresay Mary Stuart took a lot of pains dressing to have her head cut off," she thought bitterly.
Leontine came, and made ready her mistress"s bath. She emptied a bottle of eau de Cologne into the tepid water, but for once the refreshing scent failed to revive Beverley. She was like a creature in a dream as Leontine wound her long hair in bands round her head (a new fashion Roger had fallen in love with a few weeks ago), fastening it here and there with diamond pins. "Madame will be late if we are not careful,"
the Frenchwoman said. "Everything takes so long to-night." She laid on the floor at Beverley"s feet a cloud of silver gauze, supple as chiffon.
It was the new dress and Madame must step into it to avoid ruffling her hair. Beverley obeyed, and when her arms had slid into the odd little jewelled sleeves, she let Leontine draw her gently in front of a mirror.
"Madame is like a marvellous statue of ivory and silver," the maid exclaimed. "But she should have some colour. If Madame--but no, it is too late. There is a knock. It will be Monsieur. Shall I open the door?"
"Yes, open the door," Beverley echoed. Her voice sounded metallic and unnatural in her own ears.
x.x.xVI
"WE DO THINGS QUICKLY OVER HERE"
"Is this heaven?" Clo wondered.
"No, you darling, it"s not. It"s our same poor old world; but it"ll be near heaven if you"ll get well and live for me," said Justin O"Reilly.
Then it seemed to the girl that she heard a very odd, choking sound, and on to her half-parted lips fell a drop of something hot. She tasted this, and found it salt.
"You--you can"t be crying?" she mumbled.
"I am." O"Reilly answered, "crying with joy. I don"t remember doing it before--in joy or sorrow. Here goes another tear! Sorry! I couldn"t help spilling it on you. Shan"t happen again."
O"Reilly"s face was close to hers. She smiled up at him. Everything seemed strange except that he should call her darling. That, somehow, was not strange at all. Nor was it strange that his head should be bent over her upturned face. Yet he said it was the same poor old world!
"I thought I was dead," she explained.
"I thought so, too, for a minute, and it was the worst minute and the worst thought I ever had. But you"re alive. And you"re going to live. I tell you that on the doctor"s authority. He and the nurse are having a confab in the next room. In fact, when we saw you coming to all right, after the anaesthetic (a bullet had to come out of your poor little shoulder!) I asked them to leave me alone with you. I wanted to be the first one your eyes saw. You"re going to live for me, aren"t you?
Because I adore you, you know!"
"I know," the girl echoed, floating on a strange, bright wave of joy.
"You know I adore you?"
"Something told me it would come out like that," she said. "In those long days when I had to lie still in my room and listen to Kit and Churn, another voice--so different from theirs!--seemed to say it in my ear. Your message for me in the newspaper--I was sure it was for me--put it into my head. I couldn"t answer. But the message was the greatest comfort! I didn"t feel alone after that."
"Precious one! You"re a star heroine, and a martyr and a saint, and I don"t know what not. But most of all, you are my life--my very life.
I"ve had a big disappointment since I parted from you--lost a thing I"d wanted for years--lost it to Roger Sands. His revenge for--I hardly know what! Yet finding you and holding you like this shows me that nothing else matters. What"s a house, anyhow, except this darling house not made with hands--your little body, house of your soul? When you know me better, could you learn to love me, do you think, if I try hard to teach you?"
"Oh, but I do love you already," said Clo, as a matter of course. "Even that first night--there was something about you--I hated to cheat and rob you the way I did. And it was wonderful hearing your voice in the telephone, in Peterson"s dreadful room. It wasn"t only that I hoped you"d help, it was because it was you--because you were different for me from anybody else, different even from Angel."
"Good Lord, I should hope so!"
"And I"ve wanted you dreadfully ever since. That"s why I thought it must be heaven when I woke up just now and saw you."
"You angel!"
"How funny you should call me that. Oh, I"ve almost forgotten my poor Angel! I must get to her, somehow." Clo looked around hastily, and realized that she was lying on a bed in a peculiarly unattractive room, and that O"Reilly was kneeling on the floor by the bedside. "How wicked of me to think more about you than her!"
"If you mean Mrs. Sands, you shall go to her when you"re able. Mrs.
Sands is all right. You sent her something rather important by Miss Blackburne, the pearl-stringer that you told me about that night in the taxi--and in Krantz"s Keller. I talked to the woman--and cursed myself afterward for stopping to speak, when I found you and saw how every instant had counted. I oughtn"t to have waited even for a second."
"Oh, you couldn"t have saved me if you"d come up without speaking to Ellen. The shot was fired before I threw out the bag with the pearls,"
Clo broke in. "I remember now. Someone fired through the hole in the door. It was Chuff, I"m sure. It didn"t hurt much. It was like a heavy blow, and I couldn"t help dropping on my knees at the window. I felt weak and queer, but I called to Ellen. Then somebody picked me up--Kit, I think. I could hear them arguing what to do with me. Funny! I thought of you then--and that"s the last I remember till now."
"I must have been in the house by that time," O"Reilly soothed her. "I had come for you! I was sure you"d be where Kit was, because of the pearls. Denham and I had been trying to track Churn and Kit and Chuff--all the lot you told me about--ever since you turned me down, in Krantz"s Keller."
"I didn"t turn you down!"
"No, I don"t mean that! You were a brave little soldier going into battle on your own."
"A soldier? No, I was only a mouse."
"I know. "The lion"s mouse." And to gnaw the net the lion was caught in, you had to stick your head into another lion"s den. But some memoranda you"d picked up and left for us put Denham on the right trail. He doesn"t need much of a pointer, that chap! He fairly jumped on to the track of a fellow named Isaacs--at least Isaacs is his "alias"--a man who"s been suspected for a long time as a receiver of stolen goods--a fence. When I got the tip that Kit and Churn were staying in the house where we were to spot Chuff, I was sure I had the clue to you. I wish to G.o.d we"d been five minutes earlier; but I thank Him we weren"t five minutes too late! If the police eventually bring the crime home to Kit (that"s improbable, Denham thinks) there"s nothing to link up the story with the name of Mrs. Sands."
"Oh, I"m not sure!" breathed Clo. "Kit knows about her. She told Churn."
"She won"t tell any one else, you may depend on that. If she"s accused of the murder, she won"t confess to stealing somebody"s pearls as her motive. She"ll say that Peterson insulted her, and she feared him; some sob-sister stuff of that sort."
"She did complain to Churn that Pete was horrible to her, and that if Churn had been there to hear what he said, he"d have killed him quick,"
Clo remembered.
"You see, she wanted to clear herself in the eyes of her best young man!
How much more anxious she"d be to keep on the same line if it came to saving herself from the Chair! You can make your mind easy about your friend Mrs. Sands. I won"t say a word against her. You love her. You may be right, I may be wrong. I"m growing humble. I don"t set my judgment against yours, even though I know some things about the lady which it"s probable you don"t know. But she"s been good to you. That makes all the difference to me. She"s to be saved from the consequences of things which--you"ll never hear from my lips. Saved she shall be if it depends at all on yours ever. But you"ve done so much that little more remains."
"Then you"ll give her the papers?"
"The papers you returned to me that Sunday night?"
"It wasn"t I who returned them. I don"t know who did send them. It"s the greatest mystery! But if you love me, you"ll hand them back."
O"Reilly looked grave. "I love you," he said, "more than I ever thought it was in me to love, though I had an idea it might go hard with me when my time came. But I gave the papers to Heron, whose property they were--and are. I was only keeping them for him because he had reason to think they weren"t safe in his possession."