Detective and mystery stories; Jewelry theft -- Fiction
A burst of music, laughter, voices, joy, rose in the drawing-room. Mr.
S---- and Irene Calhoun stood looking at each other.
“You must go home,” were the first words he uttered. Then, in a
half-reproachful, half-pitiful tone, as if on the verge of tears, he
added: “Was I so bad a chief that even you thought me a hindrance to the
advancement of the society and the cause to which we are pledged?”
It was the one thing he could say capable of rousing her.
“Oh!” she cried, “it is all a mistake, all a cheat. Did you not get the
letter I sent to my chief this morning, written in the usual style and
directed in the usual way?”
“No,” he answered.
“Then there is worse treason than yours among the five. I wrote to
say that my ring had been stolen; that I did not subscribe to the
condemnation of the man under suspicion, and that, if it was made, it
would be through fraud. That was before I knew that the suspected one
and the man I addressed were one and the same. Now----”
“Well, now?”
“You have but to accuse the woman called Madame. The man you have just
sent away would forgive you his disappointment if you gave him the
supreme satisfaction of carrying doom to the still more formidable
being who prophesies death to those for whom she has already prepared a
violent end.”
“Irene!”
But her passion had found vent and she was not to be stilled. Telling
him the whole story of the last twenty-four hours, she waited for the
look of comfort she evidently expected. But it did not come. His first
words showed why.
“Madame is inexorable,” said he; “but Madame is but one of five. There
are three others--true men, sound men, thinking men. If they deem
me unworthy--and I have shown signs of faltering of late--Madame’s
animosity or your loving weakness must not stand in the way of their
decree. It shall never be said I sanctioned the doom of other men and
shrank from my own. I would be unworthy of your love if I did, and your
love is everything to me now.” She had not expected this; she had not at
all reckoned upon the stern quality in this man, forgetting that without
it he could never have held his pitiless position.
“But it is not regular; it is not according to precedent. Five rings are
required, and only four were fairly placed. As an honest man, you ought
to hesitate at injustice, and injustice you will show if you allow them
to triumph through their own deceit.”
But even this failed to move him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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