"The day before they were stolen."
"Your mistress was wearing them?"
"No, monsieur, but the case was on the dressing table. It was the case I saw, not the pearls."
"So for all you know to the contrary, the case may have been empty?"
"I do not see why you should think that," she answered, and it was quite evident to me that she was being careful not to fall into a trap.
"Just in the same way, perhaps, as you speak of the day before they were stolen. We do not know they are stolen. Were the pearls very valuable?"
"I do not know. The contessa valued them."
"She wears one or two good rings, I noticed," said Quarles, "but I understand the jewels she wears on the stage are paste."
"Yes, monsieur, all of it."
"Her real jewelry being at the bank!"
"That is so, monsieur."
"It is possible that the contessa has deceived us," Quarles went on, "and wants to make us believe the earrings are stolen."
"Oh, no, monsieur!"
"Why not?"
"I am sure."
"Come, now, why are you so sure? Tell me what you know, and we will soon have you back at the Brunswick Hotel. Had you told the men in the corridor that all the contessa"s jewelry was sham?"
"I know nothing of--"
"Wait!" said Quarles. "Think before you speak. You do not realize how much we know about the men in the corridor. The contessa saw them, remember."
The girl began to sob.
Very gently Quarles drew the story from her. One of the men was her brother. She had been glad to come to England to see him, but she found he had got into bad hands. She had helped him a little with money. She had talked about the contessa, and when he had spoken about her wonderful jewels she had told him they were sham.
"Did he believe you?"
"No, monsieur, he laughed at me because I did not know the real thing from paste. I said I did, and, to prove it, mentioned the pearls."
"Was this before you knew he had fallen into bad hands?"
"Yes, monsieur. On the afternoon the pearls were stolen he came to see me at the hotel with a friend. How they got to our rooms I do not know. I opened the door, thinking it was the contessa. My brother laughed at my surprise, and said he and his friend wanted to see whether the contessa"s pearls were real--they had a bet about them. He thought I was a fool, but I was quickly thinking what I must do. "She is here," I said.
"Come in five minutes, when she is gone." This was unexpected for them, and they stepped back, and I shut the door. To get the door shut was all I could think of. I was afraid. I waited; then I went to the bell, but I did not ring. After all, he was my brother. Then Nella called out from my room; I was on my way to fetch a clean frock for her from the contessa"s room when my brother came. Now I fetched it, and as I came out of the room the contessa came in. It was a great relief."
"Did she say anything about the men in the corridor?"
"Not then--not until afterwards, when she found the pearls had been stolen."
"And you said nothing?"
"No, it was wrong, but he was my brother. How he got the pearls I do not know."
"Where is he now?"
"I do not know."
"But you are sure he stole the pearls?"
"Who else?" and she began to sob again.
"Perhaps when he hears you have been arrested, he will tell the truth."
"No, no, he has become bad in this country. I do not love England."
"Anyhow, we will soon have you out of this," said Quarles, patting her shoulder in a fatherly manner. "I am afraid your brother is not much good, but perhaps the affair is not so bad as you imagine."
We left her sobbing.
"A woman of resource," said Quarles.
"Very much so," I answered. "You do not think the arrest was a mistake now, I presume?"
"Perhaps not; no, I am inclined to think it has helped us. It is not every woman who would have got rid of two such blackguards so dexterously."
"It is the very thinnest story I have ever heard," I laughed.
We walked on in silence for a few moments.
"My dear Wigan, I am afraid you are still laboring under the impression that she stole the pearls."
"I am, and that she handed them to the men in the corridor, one of whom may have been her brother or may not."
"She didn"t steal them," said Quarles.
"Why, how else could the men have got in?" I said. "You are not likely to see that rewarding smile on the contessa"s face which you talked about."
"I think I shall, but first I must face the music and explain my failure.
We will go this afternoon. Perhaps she will give us tea, Wigan."
I am afraid I murmured, "There"s no fool like an old fool," but not loud enough for Quarles to hear.
When we entered the contessa"s sitting-room that afternoon the child was playing on the floor with a small china vase, taken haphazard from the mantelpiece, I imagine.
Whether our entrance startled her, or whether she was in a destructive mood, I cannot say, but she dashed down the vase and broke it in pieces.