Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Nobility -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
"She holds the letter," said Agnes with a side-glance. "And being
jealous of me, she intends to make me suffer, unless I buy her silence
and the letter. Otherwise, according to Mr. Silver, she will show it to
the police. I have seven days, more or less, in which to make up my
mind. Either I must be blackmailed, or I must face the accusation."
Lambert heard only one word that struck him in this speech. "Why is
Chaldea jealous of you?" he demanded angrily.
"I think you can best answer that question, Noel."
"I certainly can, and answer it honestly, too. Who told you about
Chaldea?"
"Mr. Silver, for one, as I have just confessed. Clara Greeby for
another. She said that the girl was sitting to you for some picture."
"Esmeralda and Quasimodo," replied the artist quickly. "You will find
what I have done of the picture in the next room. But this confounded
girl chose to fall in love with me, and since then I have declined to
see her. I need hardly tell you, Agnes, that I gave her no
encouragement."
"No, dear. I never for one moment supposed that you would."
"All the same, and in spite of my very plain speaking, she continues to
haunt me, Agnes. I have avoided her on every occasion, but she comes
daily to see Mrs. Tribb, and ask questions about my illness."
"Then, if she comes this afternoon, you must get that letter from her,"
was the reply. "I wish to see it."
"Silver declares that you wrote it?"
"He does. Chaldea showed it to him."
"It is in your handwriting?"
"So Mr. Silver declares."
Lambert rubbed the bristles of his three days' beard, and wriggled
uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't gather much from these hints," he
said with the fretful impatience of an invalid. "Give me a detailed
account of this scoundrel's interview with you, and report his exact
words if you can remember them, Agnes."
"I remember them very well. A woman does not forget such insults
easily."
"Damn the beast!" muttered Lambert savagely. "Go on, dear."
Agnes patted his hand to soothe him, and forthwith related all that had
passed between her and the ex-secretary. Lambert frowned once or twice
during the recital, and bit his lip with anger. Weak as he was, he
longed for Silver to be within kicking distance, and it would have fared
badly with the foxy little man had he been in the room at the moment.
When Agnes ended, her lover reflected for a few minutes.
"It's a conspiracy," he declared.
"A conspiracy, Noel?"
"Yes. Chaldea hates you because the fool has chosen to fall in love with
me. The discovery of this letter has placed a weapon in her hand to do
you an injury, and for the sake of money Silver is assisting her. I will
do Chaldea the justice to say that I don't believe she asks a single
penny for the letter. To spite you she would go at once to the police.
But Silver, seeing that there is money in the business, has prevented
her doing so. As to this letter--" He stopped and rubbed his chin again
vexedly.
"It must be a forgery."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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