The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 3, June, 1851Various
History
The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 3, June, 1851
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
"Oh! of course you'll say so," continued the officer. "All I know is,
that the diamond brooch was found snugly hid away in her own box. But
come, we have been after you for the last three hours; so you had
better come along at once."
"Save me!--save me!" she sobbed, tightening her grasp upon my arm and
looking with beseeching agony in my face.
"Be comforted," I whispered; "you shall go home with me. Calm
yourself, Miss Kingsford," I added in a louder tone: "I no more
believe you have stolen a diamond brooch than that I have."
"Bless you!--bless you!" she gasped in the intervals of her convulsive
sobs.
"There is some wretched misapprehension in this business, I am quite
sure," I continued; "but at all events I shall bail her--for this
night at least."
"Bail her! That is hardly regular."
"No; but you will tell the superintendent that Mary Kingsford is in my
custody, and that I answer for appearance to-morrow."
The men hesitated; but I stood too well at head-quarters for them to
do more than hesitate; and the cab I had ordered being just then
announced, I passed with Mary out of the room as quickly as I could,
for I feared her senses were again leaving her. The air revived her
somewhat, and I lifted her into the cab, placing myself beside her.
She appeared to listen in fearful doubt whether I should be allowed to
take her with me; and it was not till the wheels had made a score of
revolutions that her fears vanished; then throwing herself upon my
neck in an ecstacy of gratitude, she burst into tears, and continued
till we reached home crying on my bosom like a broken-hearted child.
She had, I found, been there about ten o'clock to seek me, and being
told that I was gone to Astley's, had started off to find me there.
She still slept, or at least she had not risen when I left home the
following morning to endeavor to get at the bottom of the strange
accusation preferred against her. I first saw the superintendent, who,
after hearing what I had to say, quite approved of all I had done, and
intrusted the case entirely to my care. I next saw Mr. and Mrs. Morris
and Sophia Clarke, and then waited upon the prosecutor, a youngish
gentleman by the name of Saville, lodging in Essex Street, Strand. One
or two things I heard, made necessary a visit to other officers of
police, incidentally, as I found, mixed up with the affair. By the
time all this was done, and an effectual watch had been placed upon
Mr. Augustus Saville's movements, evening had fallen, and I wended my
way homewards, both to obtain a little rest, and to hear Mary
Kingsford's version of the story.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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