Part 2 (1/2)
”Do you really mean that, Daisy?”
”You know that I do.”
”Then, if you really hope that I shall win--the double event!--as an earnest of your hopes--there is no one looking!--kiss me.”
She did as he bade her.
CHAPTER II
OVERHEARD IN THE TRAIN
It was with a feeling of grim amus.e.m.e.nt that Mr. Paxton bought himself a first-cla.s.s ticket. It was, probably, the last occasion on which he would ride first-cla.s.s for some considerable time to come. The die had fallen; the game was lost--Eries had dropped more than one. Not only had he lost all he had to lose, he was a defaulter. It was out of his power to settle, he was going to emigrate instead. He had with him a Gladstone bag; it contained all his worldly possessions that he proposed to take with him on his travels. His intention was, having told Miss Strong the news, and having bidden a last farewell, to go straight from Brighton to Southampton, and thence, by the American line, to the continent on whose sh.o.r.es Europe dumps so many of its failures.
The train was later than are the trains which are popular with City men. It seemed almost empty at London Bridge. Mr. Paxton had a compartment to himself. He had an evening paper with him. He turned to the money article. Eries had closed a point lower even than he had supposed. It did not matter. A point lower, more or less, would make no difference to him--the difference would be to the brokers who had trusted him. Wis.h.i.+ng to do anything but think, he looked to see what other news the paper might contain. Some sensational headlines caught his eye.
”ROBBERY OF THE d.u.c.h.eSS OF DATCHET'S DIAMONDS!
”AN EXTRAORDINARY TALE.”
The announcement amused him.
”After all that is the sort of line which I ought to have made my own--robbing pure and simple. It's more profitable than what Daisy says that I call 'punting.'”
He read on. The tale was told in the usual sensational style, though the telling could scarcely have been more sensational than the tale which was told. That afternoon, it appeared, an amazing robbery had taken place--amazing, first, because of the almost incredible value of what had been stolen; and, second, because of the daring fas.h.i.+on in which the deed had been done. In spite of the desperate nature of his own position--or, perhaps, because of it--Mr. Paxton drank in the story with avidity.
The d.u.c.h.ess of Datchet, the young, and, if report was true, the beautiful wife of one of England's greatest and richest n.o.blemen, had been on a visit to the Queen at Windsor--the honoured guest of the Sovereign. As a fitting mark of the occasion, and in order to appear before Her Majesty in the splendours which so well became her, the d.u.c.h.ess had taken with her the famous Datchet diamonds. As all the world knows the Dukes of Datchet have been collectors of diamonds during, at any rate, the last two centuries.
The value of their collection is fabulous--the intrinsic value of the stones which the d.u.c.h.ess had taken with her on that memorable journey, according to the paper, was at least 250,000--a quarter of a million of money! This was the net value--indeed, it seemed that one might almost say it was the trade value, and was quite apart from any advent.i.tious value which they might possess, from, for instance, the point of view of historical a.s.sociation.
Mr. Paxton drew a long breath as he read:
”Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds--a quarter of a million! I am not at all sure that I should not have liked to have had a finger in such a pie as that. It would be better than punting at Eries.”
The diamonds, it seemed, arrived all right at Windsor, and the d.u.c.h.ess too. The visit pa.s.sed off with due _eclat_. It was as Her Grace was returning that the deed was done, though how it was done was, as yet, a profound mystery.
”Of course,” commented Mr. Paxton to himself, ”all criminal London knew what she had taken with her. The betting is that they never lost sight of those diamonds from first to last; to adequately safeguard them she ought to have taken with her a regiment of soldiers.”
Although she had not gone so far as a regiment of soldiers, that precaution had been taken--and precautions, moreover, which had been found to be adequate, over and over again, on previous occasions--was sufficiently plain. The d.u.c.h.ess had travelled in a reserved saloon carriage by the five minutes past four train from Windsor to Paddington. She had been accompanied by two servants, her maid, and a man-servant named Stephen Eversleigh. Eversleigh was one of a family of servants the members of which had been in the employment of the Dukes of Datchet for generations.
It was he who was in charge of the diamonds. They were in a leather despatch-box. The d.u.c.h.ess placed them in it with her own hand, locked the box, and retained the key in her own possession. Eversleigh carried the box from the d.u.c.h.ess's apartment in the Castle to the carriage which conveyed her to the railway station. He placed it on the seat in front of her.
He himself sat outside with the maid. When the carriage reached the station he carried it to the d.u.c.h.ess's saloon. The d.u.c.h.ess was the sole occupant of the saloon. She travelled with the despatch-box in front of her all the way to London. The duke met her at Paddington.
Eversleigh again placed the box on the front seat of the carriage, the duke and d.u.c.h.ess, sitting side by side, having it in full view as the brougham pa.s.sed through the London streets. The diamonds, when not in actual use, were always kept, for safe custody, at Bartlett's Bank.
The confidential agent of the bank was awaiting their arrival when the brougham reached the ducal mansion in Grosvenor Square. The despatch-box was taken straight to him, and, more for form's sake than anything else, was opened by the d.u.c.h.ess in his presence, so that he might see that it really did contain the diamonds before he gave the usual receipt.
It was as well for the bank's sake that on that occasion the form was observed. When the box was opened, it was empty! There was nothing of any sort to show that the diamonds had ever been in it--they had vanished into air!