Part 55 (1/2)

Necklace found in Mrs. Jeffrey Blake's hand-bag?”

Jeff was looking at her sharply.

”I never said I took it from a hand-bag,” he rejoined.

Madame Beattie broke down and laughed. She gave the bracelet a final snap.

”You're quite a clever boy,” said she. ”Alston Choate wouldn't have seen that if he'd hammered at it a week. Yes, it was in Esther's bag. I don't care much how it got out. The question is, how did it get in? How are you going to s.h.i.+eld Esther?”

He was aware that Esther was looking at him in a breathless waiting. The hatred, he knew, must have gone out of her face. She was the abject human animal beseeching mercy from the stronger. That she could ask him whom she had repudiated to stand by her in her distress, hurt him like a personal degradation. But he was sorry for her, and he would fight. He answered roughly, at a venture, and he felt her start. Yet the roughness was not for her.

”No. I shall do nothing whatever,” he said, and heard her little cry and Madame Beattie's a.s.sured tone following it, with an uncertainty whether he had done well.

”You're quite decided?” Madame Beattie was giving him one more chance.

”You're going to let Esther serve her time in the dirty little man's paper? It'll be something more than publicity here. My word! Her name will fly over the globe.”

He heard Esther's quick breathing nearer and nearer, and then he felt her hand on his arm. She had crept closer, involuntarily, he could believe, but drawn by the instinct to be saved. He felt his own heart beating thickly, with sorrow for her, an agonising ruth that she should have to sue to him. But he spoke sharply, not looking at her, his eyes on Madame Beattie's.

”I shall not a.s.sume the slightest responsibility in the matter. I have told you I took the necklace. You can say that in Weedon Moore's paper till you are both of you--” he paused.

The hand was resting on his arm, and Esther's breathing presence choked him with a sense of the strangeness of things and the poignant suffering in mere life.

”I sha'n't mention you,” said Madame Beattie. ”I know who took the necklace.”

”What?”

His movement must have shaken the touch on his arm, for Esther's hand fell.

”You don't suppose I'm a fool, do you?” inquired Madame Beattie. ”I knew it was going to happen. I saw the whole thing.”

”Then,” said Esther, slipping away from him a pace, ”you didn't do it after all.”

If he had not been so shaken by Madame Beattie's words he could have laughed with the grim humour of it. Esther was sorry he had not done it.

”So,” said Madame Beattie, ”you'd better think twice about it. I'll give you time. But I shall a.s.suredly publish the name of the person who took the necklace out of Esther's bag, as well as the fact that it had to be in Esther's bag or it couldn't have been taken out. Two thieves, Jeff.

You'd better think twice.”

”Yes,” said Jeff. ”I will think. Is it understood?” He walked over to her and stood there looking down at her.

She glanced pleasantly up at him.

”Of course, my dear boy,” she said. ”I shouldn't dream of saying a word--till you've thought twice. But you must think quick, Jeff. I can't wait forever.”

”I swear,” said Jeff, ”you are--” Neither words nor breath failed him, but he was afraid of his own pa.s.sion.

Madame Beattie laughed.

”Jeff,” said she, ”I've no visible means of support. If I had I should be as mild--you can't think!”

He turned and, without a look at Esther, strode out of the room. Esther hardly waited for the door to close behind him before she fell upon Madame Beattie.