Part 9 (1/2)
”But, Mrs. Kildair--” began Mrs. Jackson's shrill voice again.
”That's it. Now put down the candelabrum.”
In a moment, as Mr. Cheever proceeded methodically on his errand, the brilliant crossfire of lights dropped in the studio, only a few smoldering wicks winking on the walls, while the high room seemed to grow more distant as it came under the sole dominion of the three candles bracketed in silver at the head of the bare mahogany table.
”Now listen!” said Mrs. Kildair, and her voice had in it a cold note.
”My sapphire ring has just been stolen.”
She said it suddenly, hurling the news among them and waiting ferret-like for some indications in the chorus that broke out.
”Stolen!”
”Oh, my dear Mrs. Kildair!”
”Stolen--by Jove!”
”You don't mean it!”
”What! Stolen here--to-night?”
”The ring has been taken within the last twenty minutes,” continued Mrs.
Kildair in the same determined, chiseled tone. ”I am not going to mince words. The ring has been taken and the thief is among you.”
For a moment nothing was heard but an indescribable gasp and a sudden turning and searching, then suddenly Cheever's deep ba.s.s broke out:
”Stolen! But, Mrs. Kildair, is it possible?”
”Exactly. There is not the slightest doubt,” said Mrs. Kildair. ”Three of you were in my bedroom when I placed my rings on the pincus.h.i.+on. Each of you has pa.s.sed through there a dozen times since. My sapphire ring is gone, and one of you has taken it.”
Mrs. Jackson gave a little scream, and reached heavily for a gla.s.s of water. Mrs. Cheever said something inarticulate in the outburst of masculine exclamation. Only Maude Lille's calm voice could be heard saying:
”Quite true. I was in the room when you took them off. The sapphire ring was on top.”
”Now listen!” said Mrs. Kildair, her eyes on Maude Lille's eyes. ”I am not going to mince words. I am not going to stand on ceremony. I'm going to have that ring back. Listen to me carefully. I'm going to have that ring back, and until I do, not a soul shall leave this room.” She tapped on the table with her nervous knuckles. ”Who has taken it I do not care to know. All I want is my ring. Now I'm going to make it possible for whoever took it to restore it without possibility of detection. The doors are locked and will stay locked. I am going to put out the lights, and I am going to count one hundred slowly. You will be in absolute darkness; no one will know or see what is done. But if at the end of that time the ring is not here on this table I shall telephone the police and have every one in this room searched. Am I quite clear?”
Suddenly she cut short the nervous outbreak of suggestions and in the same firm voice continued:
”Every one take his place about the table. That's it. That will do.”
The women, with the exception of the inscrutable Maude Lille, gazed hysterically from face to face while the men, compressing their fingers, locking them or grasping their chins, looked straight ahead fixedly at their hostess.
Mrs. Kildair, having calmly a.s.sured herself that all were ranged as she wished, blew out two of the three candles.
”I shall count one hundred, no more, no less,” she said. ”Either I get back that ring or every one in this room is to be searched, remember.”
Leaning over, she blew out the remaining candle and snuffed it.
”One, two, three, four, five--”