Part 14 (1/2)
”Only two, to my knowledge, Doctor Benoit and--Doctor Heath.”
”And who are these young men--I suppose they _are_ young men? Can you give me any information concerning them?”
”The young man with Doctor Benoit is a stranger to me, he comes, I believe, from one of the neighboring towns; the one with Doctor Heath,”
here, in spite of herself, Constance colored slightly, ”is the son of one of our wealthiest citizens. He had, I believe, been reading a little in the city during the winter before Doctor Heath established himself here; since when he has remained in W----, and read in Doctor Heath's office, when it has suited him to do so; he is like many young men of great expectations.”
”And his name?”
”His name,” hesitating a little, ”is Francis Lamotte.”
”Thank you; and now, Miss Wardour, I want to ask at least three favors of you, in return for which you may command me to any extent.”
”Ask them,” replied Constance, feeling inwardly that she was outgrowing surprise.
”First, will you promise me--I know that you keep your promises--not to repeat one word of this conversation to Doctor Heath.”
”Doctor Heath is not my father confessor,” she said coldly; and then remembering the sort of man she was addressing, she added as best she could. ”Although from what you saw last night, you might almost have fancied him such. I promise in any case to keep secret this interview.”
”Will you promise, above all, to keep it from Mr. Belknap; to keep _everything_ concerning me from his knowledge?”
Constance laughed.
”So far as I can,” she replied. ”Mr. Belknap is a detective; let him find out things as you seem to do.”
”I don't find out everything, more's the pity,” he replied; then hesitating slightly over the question. ”May I rely on your aunt?”
”I promise for my aunt,” replied Constance, laughing again; ”she is very loyal.”
”Thank you. Now there is one thing more I very much wish, for reasons which no doubt you will know in good time, to see or hear the report of Mr. Jerry Belknap, private detective. This I know, is asking much, but you will have no cause to regret it if you enable me to obtain this knowledge.”
Constance looked perplexed, and hesitated in her answer.
”You distrust Mr. Belknap,” she said finally. ”I thought--”
He throws up his hand somewhat impatiently.
”You jump at conclusions,” he interrupted; ”a detective's motives must be taken for granted. It is not distrust that causes me to ask this favor; I could not tell you my reason without unraveling a long web, and it is not time to begin the process; I am still in the realm of conjecture. So you won't help me to the result of Mr. Belknap's investigation, Miss Wardour? I am sorry; it would save time for me, for I fully intend to find it out in some way.”
Constance smiled in spite of herself; she admired this man's cool way of mastering the situation; she felt that it would be policy to let him have his way, since he would take it whether she would or no. But the imp of caprice had not quite deserted her, and now he goaded her on to her own downfall. Looking up suddenly, she asked:
”Mr. Bathurst, why did you ask me if I suspected who stole my diamonds?”
”I didn't,” smiling oddly.
Constance stared.
”I asked if you guessed who the robbers were.”
”But--,” began she; but the detective drawing a step nearer, and speaking in a guarded tone, interrupts her.
”I am satisfied that you were _robbed_ on Sat.u.r.day night, Miss Wardour; I am sure that you have no clue to the burglars; no suspicion as to their ident.i.ty; but, I am not so sure that you do not know _precisely where to look for the Wardour diamonds at this moment_?”