Burglars -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Husband and wife -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
The moment Rowton spoke Long John rapped his hand loudly on the board. He
rose and spoke in a clear and penetrating voice.
“Silence, men,” he said, “I have something to say.”
Every tongue was instantly arrested.
“I wish to state a fact,” continued Long John, just glancing for a moment
at Rowton, who, white to his lips, was standing near. “Our gentleman
leader, Adrian Rowton, of Rowton Heights, in Yorkshire, otherwise known
to this school by the name of Silver, has been in debt to us to the tune
of five hundred pounds. The debt was contracted on behalf of a certain
diamond, which we all know here as the black diamond. The diamond was
of great worth, and from different circumstances in connection with its
coming into our possession, its presence in the School was fraught with
extreme danger. Silver was commissioned to take it to Spain and sell it
there for two thousand pounds, a sum, as you know, very much below its
intrinsic value. Silver did sell the diamond, but, as it turns out, he
sold it to himself for five hundred pounds _below_ the price I set upon
it. In this manner he contracted a debt to our School of five hundred
pounds. By securing the diamond for himself he contracted a further debt,
the dimensions of which cannot be measured. This further debt formed the
subject of our very painful discussion last night. The first debt was
of small importance; the second debt was vital. There was only one way
in which Rowton could pay the second debt. I wish to tell you all, now,
my men, that Adrian Rowton has cleared the debt. His record with us is
white.”
“Hold a minute,” said Rowton. His voice was loud but somewhat shaky. He
was staggering with mortal pain. “All here present have acted towards me
with treachery. There’s not a man in this room who did not know what Long
John wanted me here for. You, Scrivener, lured me to this place by means
of a lie. When I came here I trusted to your honour, mates. You have
every one of you failed me.”
Some of the men groaned, lowered their eyes, and some shuffled restlessly
with their feet. Long John tapped again on the table.
“The old trite proverb that ‘all is fair in love and war’ applies here,”
he said. “There was only one way to wipe out Rowton’s debt, and that way
has been used.”
“A word more,” continued Rowton; “my debt will be wiped out soon, but
there is another debt to cancel. Long John, you kidnapped the boy. If my
record is white, yours is black. I forgive the rest of you fellows—you
did what you did under compulsion. But as to you, you coward, I swear
that if I appear before my Maker unabsolved and with my sins upon me, so
do you.”
Quick as thought Rowton produced a revolver and fired. He aimed at Long
John’s heart. The man saw his danger, swerved an inch, and received the
bullet in his right arm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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