 Cheating the Gallows by Israel Zanguil This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Read and recorded by SGA, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Cheating the Gallows They say that a union of opposites make the happiest marriage. And perhaps it is on the same principle that men who chump together are always so oddly assorted. You shall find a man of letters sharing digging with an auctioneer and a medical student picking a stockbroker's clerk. Perhaps each thus escapes the temptation to talk sharp in his hours of leisure while he supplements his own experiences of life by his companions. There could not be an odd order couple than Tom Peters and Everett G. Rockstill. The contrast began with their names and ran through the entire chapter. They had a bedroom and a sitting room in common, but it would not be easy to find what else. To his landlady, worthy Mrs. Seekon, Tom Peters' profession was a little vague. But everybody knew that Rockstill was the manager of the city and suburban bank. And it puzzled her to think why a bank manager should live with such a seedy looking person who smoked clay pipes and sipped whiskey and water all evening when he was at home. For Rockstill was as spruce and erect as his fellow lodger was round-shouldered and shabby. He never smoked and he confined himself to a small class of claret at dinner. It is possible to live with a man and see very little of him. Where each of the partners lives his own life in his own way with his own circle of friends and external amusements. Days may go by without the men having five minutes together. Perhaps this explains why these partnerships jog along so much more peacefully than marriages, where the chain is drawn so much tighter and galls the partners rather than links them. Diverse however, as with the hours and habits of the chums, they often break fasted together and they agreed in one thing. They never stayed out at night. For the rest, Peters sought his diversions in the company of journalists and frequented debating rooms where he propounded the more iconoclastic views while Rockstill had highly respectable houses open to him in the suburbs and was in fact engaged to be married to Clara Noel, the charming daughter of a retired corn merchant, a widower with no other child. Clara naturally took up a good deal of Rockstill's time and he often dressed to go to the play with her while Peters stayed at home in a faded dressing gown and loose slippers. Mrs. Seekin liked to see gentlemen about the house in evening dress and made comparisons not favourable to Peters. And this in spite of the fact that he gave her infinitely less trouble than the younger man. It was Peters who first took the apartments and it was characteristic of his easygoing temperament that he was so openly and naively delighted with the view of the themes obtainable from the bedroom window that Mrs. Seekin was emboldened to ask 25 cent more than she had intended. She soon returned to her normal terms however when his friend Rockstill called the next day to inspect the rooms and overwhelmed her with a demonstration of their numerous shortcomings. He pointed out that their being on the ground floor was not an advantage but a disadvantage since they were nearer to the noises of the street. In fact, the house being a corner one, the noises of two streets. Rockstill continued to exhibit the same finicky temperament in the petty details of the manage. His shirt fronts was never sufficiently starched nor his boots sufficiently polished. Tom Peters having no regard for rigid linen was always good tempered and satisfied and never acquired the respect of his landlady. He wore blue check shirts and loose ties even on Sundays It is true he did not go to church but slept on till Rockstill returning from the morning service and even then it was difficult to get him out of bed or to make him hurry up his toilet operations. Often the midday meal would be smoking on the table while Peters would smoke in the bed and Rockstill with his head thrust through the folding doors that separated the bedroom from the sitting room would be adjuring the sluggard to arise and shake off his slumbers and threatening to sit down without him lest the dinner be spoiled. In revenge, Tom was usually up first on weekdays sometimes at such unearthly hours that Paulie had not yet removed the boots from the outside the bedroom door and would ball down to the kitchen for a shaving water. For Tom, lazy and indolent as he was shaved with an unfailing regularity of a man to whom shaving had become an instinct If he had not kept fairly regular hours Mrs. Seekon would have set him down as an actor so clean shaven was he Rockstill did not shave He wore a full beard and being a fine figure of a man to boot no uneasy investor could look upon him without being reassured as to the stability of the bank he managed so successfully and thus the two men lived in an economical comradeship all the firmer perhaps for their mutual incongruities It was on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of October 10 days after Rockstill has settled in his new rooms that Clara Newell paid her first visit to him there She enjoyed a good deal of liberty and did not mind accepting his invitation to tea The corn merchant himself, indifferently educated had an exaggerated sense of the value of culture and so Clara, who had artistic tastes but much actual talent had gone in for painting and might be seen in pretty toilets copying pictures in the museum At one time it looked as if she might be reduced to working seriously at her art for Satan, who finds mischief still for idle hands to do had persuaded her father to embark the fruits of years of toil in bubble companies However, things turned out not so bad as they might have been A little was saved from the wreck and the appearance of a suitor in the person of Everett G Rockstill ensured her a future of competence if not of the luxury she had been entitled to expect She had a good deal of affection for Everett who was unmistakably a clever man as well as a good-looking one The prospect seemed fair and cloudless Nothing presaged the terrible storm that was about to break over these two lives Nothing had ever for a moment come to wax their mutual contentment till this Sunday afternoon The October sky blue and sunny with an Indian summer sultriness seemed an exact image of a life with its aftermath of a happiness that had once seemed blighted Everett had always been so attentive so salacious that she was much surprised as chagrin to find that he had apparently forgotten the appointment Hearing her astonished interrogation of Polly in the passage Tom shambled from the sitting room in his loose slippers and his blue-check shirt with his eternal clay pipe in his mouth and informed her that Rockstill had gone out suddenly earlier in the afternoon Gone out? stammered poor Clara, all confused But he asked me to come to tea Oh, you're Miss Noelle, I suppose, said Tom Yes, I'm Miss Noelle He has told me a great deal about you but I was unable honestly to congratulate him on his choice till now Clara blushed uneasily under the compliment and under the ardour of his admiring gaze Instinctively she distrusted the man The very first tone of his deep bass voice gave her a peculiar shudder and then his impoliteness in smoking that wild clay was so grouchous Oh, then you must be Mr. Peters She said in return He has often spoken to me of you Ah, said Tom laughingly I suppose he told you all my vices that accounts for you are not being surprised at my Sunday attire She smiled a little, showing a row of pearly tea Ever describes to you all the virtues, she said Now that's what I call a friend he cried ecstatically But won't you come in He must be back in a moment He surely would not break an appointment with you The admiration latent in the accentuation of the last pronoun was almost offensive She shook her head She had a just grievance against Everett and would punish him by going away indignantly Do let me give you a cup of tea Tom pleaded You must be awfully thirsty this sultry weather There I'll make a bargain with you If you will come in now I promise to clear out the moment Everett returns and not spoil your tetetet But Clara was obstinate She did not at all relish this man's society And besides She was not going to throw away her grievance against Everett I know Everett will slang me dreadfully when he comes in If I let you go, Tom urged Tell me at least where he can find you I'm going to take the bus at Charing Cross And I'm going straight home Clara announced determinedly She put up her parasol in a pet And went up the street into the strand A cold shadow seemed to have fallen over all things But just as she was getting into the bus A handsome dashed down Trafalgar Square And a well-known voice hailed her The handsome stopped And Everett got out and held out his hand I'm so glad you're a bit late, he said I was called out unexpectedly And having been trying to rush back in time You wouldn't have found me if you had been punctual But I thought he added laughingly Now I could rely on you as a woman I was punctual, Clara said angrily I was not getting out of this bus As you seem to imagine But into it and was going home My darling, he cried remosfully A thousand apologies The regret on his handsome face soothed her He took the rose he was wearing In the buttonhole of his fashionable cut coat And gave it to her Why were you so cruel, he murmured As she nestled against him in the handsome Think of my despair if I had come home To hear you had come and gone Why didn't you wait a moment A shudder traversed a frame Not with that man, Peters, she murmured Not with that man, Peters, he echoed sharply What is the matter with Peters? I don't know, she said I don't like him Clara, he said half certainly Half cajolingly I thought you were above these feminine weaknesses You are punctual, strive also to be reasonable Tom is my best friend From boyhood we have been always together There is nothing Tom would not do for me Or I for Tom You must like him, Clara You must, if only for my sake I'll try, Clara promised And then he kissed her in gratitude And brought daylight You'll be very nice to him at tea, won't you? He said anxiously I shouldn't like you two to be bad friends I don't want to be bad friends Clara protested Only the moment I saw him A strange repulsion and mistrust came over me You're quite wrong about him, quite wrong He assured her earnestly When you know him better You'll find him the best of fellows Oh, I know, he said suddenly I suppose he was very untidy And you women go so much by appearances Not at all, Clara retorted It's you men who go by appearances Yes, you do That's why you care for me He said smiling She assured him it wasn't And she didn't care for him so much As he plumed himself But he smiled on His smile died away, however When he entered his rooms And found Tom nowhere I daresay you've made him run About hunting for me, he grumbled Perhaps he knew I'd come back And went away to leave us together She answered He said he would when you came And yet you say you don't like him She smiled reassuringly Inwardly, however She felt pleased at the man's absence If Clara Novel could have seen Tom Peters Carrying on with Polly in the passage She might have felt justified In her prejudice against him It must be confessed though That Everett also carried on with Polly Alas, it is to be feared That men are much of a muchness Where women are concerned Shabby men and smart men Bank managers and journalists Bachelors and semi-detached bachelors Perhaps it was a mistake after all To say that the chums Had nothing patently in common Everett, I'm afraid Kissed Polly rather more often than Clara And although it was because He respected her less The reasons would perhaps Not have been sufficiently consoling To his affianced wife For Polly was pretty Especially on alternate Sunday afternoons And when at 10 p.m. She returned from her outings She was generally met in the passage By one or other of the men Polly liked to receive Homage of real gentlemen And set a white cap at all Indifferently. Thus, just before Clara Knocked on the memorable Sunday afternoon Polly was being confined to the house By unwritten code regulating The lives of servants Was amusing herself by flirting With Peters You are fond of me a little bit The graceless Tom Vispered, aren't you? You know I am, sir, Polly replied You don't care for anyone else in the house Oh, no, sir And never let anyone kiss me but you I wonder how it is, sir Polly replied ingeniously Give me another Tom answered She gave him another And tripped to the door to answer Clara's knock And that very evening, when Clara was gone And Tom still out Polly turned without the faintest Atom of scrupulosity Or even jealousy To the more fascinating rockstar And accepted his amorous advances If it would seem at first sight That Everett had less excuse For such frivolity than his friend Perhaps the seriousness he showed In this interview may throw a different light Upon the complex character of the man You're quite sure you don't care for anyone but me? He asked honestly Of course not, sir Polly replied indignantly How could I? But you care for that soldier I saw you out with last Sunday Oh, no, sir He's only my young man She said apologetically Would you give him up? He hissed suddenly Polly's pretty face Took a look of terror I couldn't, sir He'll kill me He's such a jealous brute You have no idea Yes But suppose I took you away from here He whispered eagerly Somewhere he couldn't find you South America Africa Somewhere thousands of miles across the seas Oh, sir, you've frightened me He whispered Polly Covering before his ardent eyes Which shone in the dimly lit passage Would you come with me? He hissed She did not answer She shook herself free And ran into the kitchen trembling with a vague fear One morning earlier than his earliest hour Of demanding a shaving water Tom rang the bell violently And asked the alarmed Polly What had become of Mr. Rockstall? How should I know, sir? She gasped Ain't he been in, sir? Apparently not, Tom answered anxiously He never remains out We have been here for three weeks now And I can't recall a single night He hadn't been home before twelve I can't make it out All inquiries proved futile Mrs. Seekon reminded him of the thick fog That had come on suddenly the night before What fog? asked Tom Lord, didn't you notice it, sir? No, I came in early, smote Red, and went to bed about eleven I never thought of looking out the window It began of about ten, said Mrs. Seekon And got thicker and thicker I couldn't see the lights of the river from my bedroom The poor gentleman has been and gone He had walked into the water She began to whimper Nonsense, nonsense, said Tom Though his expression bellied his words At the worst, I should think He couldn't find his way home And couldn't get a cab So put up for the night at some hotel I daresay it'll be all right He began to whistle as if in restored cheerfulness At eight o'clock, there came a letter from Rockstall Marked, immediate But as he did not turn up for breakfast Tom went round personally to the city and suburban bank He waited half an hour there But the manager did not make his appearance Then he left the letter with the cashier And went away with anxious countenance That afternoon, it was all over London That the manager of the city and suburban had disappeared And that many thousands pounds of gold and notes Had disappeared with him Scotland Laird opened the letter marked, immediate And noted that there had been a delay in its delivery For the address had been obscure And an official alteration had been made It was written in feminine hand and said On second thoughts, I cannot accompany you To not try to see me again Forget me, I shall never forget you There was no signature Claire Novel distracted Disclaimed all knowledge of this letter Paulie deposed and the fugitive had proposed flight to her And the routes to Africa and South America Were especially watched Some months passed without result Tom Peters went about overwhelmed with grief and astonishment The police took possession of all the missing man's effects Gradually, the hue and cry dwindled, died At last we meet, cried Tom Peters With his face lit up in joy How are you, dear Miss Novel? Clara greeted him coldly Her face had an abiding pallor now Her lover's flight And the shame had prostrated her for weeks Her soul was the arena of contending instincts Alone of all the world She still believed in Everett's innocence Felt that there was something more than met the eye Divined some devilish mystery behind it all And yet that damning letter from the anonymous lady Shook her sadly Then, too, there was the deposition of Paulie When she heard Peters' voice accosting her All her old repugnance researched It flashed upon her that this man Rockstall's boon companion Must know far more than he had told to the police She remembered how Everett had spoken of him With what affection and confidence Was it likely he was utterly ignorant Of Everett's movements Mastering her repugnance She held out her hand It might be well to keep in touch with him He was possibly the clue to the mystery She noticed that he was dressed a shade more trimly And was smoking a mursham He walked alongside her And made no offer to put his pipe out Have you not heard from Everett? He asked She flustered Do you think I am an accessory after the fact? She cried No, no, he said soothingly Pardon me I was thinking he might have written Giving no exact address of course Men do sometimes dare to write to thoughts to women But of course He knows you too well You would have put the police on his tracks Certainly She exclaimed indignantly Even if he is innocent He must face the charge Do you still entertain the possibility of his innocence? I do He said boldly And looked him full in the face His eyelids drooped with a quiver Don't you? I have hoped against hope He replied In a voice faltering with emotion Poor old Everett But I am afraid there is no room for doubt Oh, this wicked curse of money Tempting the noblest and the best of us Hold on Gradually she found herself seeing more and more of Tom Peters And gradually, strange to say He grew less repulsive From the talks they had together She began to see There was really no reason to put faith in Everett His criminality, his faithlessness Were too flagrant Gradually she grew ashamed Of her early mistrust of Peters Remorse bred esteem And esteem ultimately ripened Into feelings so warm That Tom gave Freer went to the love That had been visible to Clara from the first She did not repulse him It is only in books that love lives forever Clara, so her father thought Showed herself a sensible girl In plucking out an unworthy affection And casting it from her heart He invited the new lover to his house And took to him at once Rockstall's somewhat supercilious manner Had always jarred upon the unsophisticated corn merchant With Tom, the old man got on much better While evidently quite as well-informed And cultured as his Willam friend Tom knew how to impart his superior knowledge With the accent on the knowledge Rather than on the superiority While he had the air of gaining Much information in return Those who are most conscious Of defects of an early education Are most resentful of other people Sharing their consciousness Moreover, Tom's Bonhami Was far more to the old fellow's liking Than the studied politeness of his predecessor So that, on the whole Tom made more of a conquest of the father Than of the daughter Nevertheless, Clara was by no means Unresponsive to Tom's affection And when, after one of his visits to the house The old man kissed her fondly And spoke of the happy turn of things Had taken, and how, for the second time In their lives, things had mended When they seemed at their blackest Her heart swelled with a gush of gratitude And joy and tenderness And she felt sobbing into her father's arms Tom calculated that he had made a clear 500 A year by occasional journalism Besides possessing some profitable investments Which he had inherited from his mother So that there was no reason for delaying the marriage It was fixed for May day And the honeymoon was to be spent in Italy But Clara was not distant to happiness For the moment she had promised herself Her first love's old memories began to rise up And reproach her Strange thoughts stirred in the depths of her soul And in the silent watches of the night She seemed to hear Everett's accents Charred with grief and upbraiding Her uneasiness increased As her wedding day drew nearer One night, after a pleasant afternoon Spent in being rowed by Tom Among the upper reaches of the Thames She retired to rest full of vague forebodings And she dreamt a terrible dream A dripping form of Everett stood by her bedside Staring at her with ghastly eyes Had he been drowned on the passage to his land of exile? Frozen with horror, she put the question I have never left England, the vision answered Her tongue clove to the roof of her mouth Never left England, she repeated In tones which did not seem to be hers The wraith's stony eyes stared on her But there was silence Where have you been then, she asked in her dream Very near you came the answer There has been foul play then, she shrieked The phantom shook its head in doleful assent I knew it, she shrieked Tom Peters, Tom Peters had done away with you Is it not he? Speak! Yes, it is he, Tom Peters Whom I loved more than all the world Even in the terrible oppression of the dream She could not resist saying, woman-like Did I not warn you against him? The phantom stared on silently and made no reply But what was his motive? She asked at length Love of gold, and you And you are giving yourself to him It said sternly No, no, Everett, I will not, I will not I swear it, forgive me The spirit shook its head skeptically You love him Woman are false, as false as men She strove to protest again But her tongue refused its office If you marry him I shall always be with you, aware The dripping figure vanished as suddenly as it came And Clara awoke in cold perspiration Oh, it was horrible The man she had learnt to love The murderer of the man she had learnt to forget How her original prejudice had been justified Distracted, shaken to her depths She would not take counsel even of her father But informed the police of her suspicion A raid was made on Tom's rooms And lo, the stolen notes were discovered in a huge bundle It was found that he had several banking accounts With a large recently paid amount in each bank Tom was arrested Attention was now concentrated on the corpses washed up by the river It was not long before the body of Rockstall came to shore The face distorted almost beyond recognition by long immersion By the clothes patently hiss And a pocketbook in the breast pocket Removing the last doubt Mrs. Seekon and Polly and Clara Noelle All identified the body Both juries returned a verdict of murder against Tom Peters The recital of Clara's dream Producing a unique impression in the cold And throughout the country The theory of the prosecution was that Rockstall had brought home money Whether to fly alone or to divide it Or whether even for some innocent purpose, as Clara believed Was immaterial That Peters determined to have it all And that he had gone out for a walk with the deceased And taking advantage of the fog Had pushed him into the river And that he was further impelled to the crime by love For Clara Noelle As was evident from his subsequent relations with her The judge put on the black cap Tom Peters was duly hung by the neck till he was dead Brief resume of the culprit's confession When you all read this I shall be dead and laughing at you I have been hung for my own murder I am Averagey Rockstall I am also Tom Peters We two were one When I was a young man My moustache and beard wouldn't come I bought false ones to improve my parents One day, after I had become manager of the city And the suburban bank I took off my beard and moustache at home And then the thought crossed my mind That nobody would know me without them I was another man Instantly it flashed upon me That if I ran away from the bank That the other man could be left in London While the police were scoring the world For a non-existent fugitive But this was only the crude germ of the idea Slowly I matured my plan The man who was going to be left in London Must be known to a circle of acquaintance beforehand It would be easy enough to masquerade in the evenings In my beardless condition With the other disguise of dress and voice But this was not brilliant enough I conceived the idea of living with him It was box and cocks reversed We shared the rooms at Mrs. Seacons It was a great strain But it was only for a few weeks I had trick-clothes in my bedroom Like those of quick-change artists In a moment I could pass from Rockstall to Peters And from Peters to Rockstall Folly had to clean two pairs of boots a morning Cook two dinners etc. She and Mrs. Seacons Saw one or other of us every moment It never dawned upon them They never saw us both together At meals I would not be interrupted Eight of two plates And conversed with my friends in loud tones At other times we dined at different hours On Sundays He was supposed to be asleep When I was in church There is no landlady in the world To whom the idea would have occurred That one man was troubling himself to be two And to pay for two including washing I worked up the idea of Rockstall's flight Asked Polly to go with me Manufactured that feminine letter That arrived in the morning of my disappearance As Tom Peters I mixed with the journalistic set I had another room where I kept the gold and notes Till I mistakenly thought the thing had blown over Unfortunately Returning from here on the night of my disappearance With Rockstall's clothes in a bundle I intended to drop into the river It was stolen from me in the fog And the man into whose possession it ultimately came Appears to have committed suicide What perhaps ruined me was my desire To keep Clara's love And to transfer it to the survivor Ever had told her I was the best of fellows Once married to her I would not have had much fear Even if she had discovered the trick A wife cannot give evidence against her husband And often does not want to I made none of the usual slips But no man can guard against a girl's nightmare After a day at the river And a supper at the star and garter I might have told the judge he was an ass But then I should have had Penal servitude for bank robbery And that is worse than death The only thing that puzzles me though Is whether the law has committed murder Or I suicide The end of cheating the gallows The Great Ruby Rubbery By Grant Allen This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Read and recorded by SGA Philadelphia, Pennsylvania The Great Ruby Rubbery Percy's remanette was an American heiress As she justly remarked This was a commonplace profession For a young woman nowadays For almost everybody of late years Has been an American and an heiress A poor Californian indeed Would be a charming novelty in London society But London society so far Has had to go without one The Great Ruby Rubbery Percy's remanette was no way back from the Wilcox's ball She was stopping, of course, with Sir Everett And Lady McClure at their house at Hampstead I say, of course, advisedly Because if you or I go to see New York We have to put up at our own expense Five dollars a day without wine or extras At the Windsor or the Fifth Avenue But when the pretty American comes to London And every American girl is ex-officio pretty In Europe, at least I suppose they keep their ugly ones at home For domestic consumption She is invariably the guest Either of the two wager duchess Or of a royal academician like Sir Everett Of the first distinction Yankees visit Europe, in fact, to see Other things are art and our old nobility And by dint of native persistence They get into places that you and I Could never succeed in penetrating Unless we devoted all the energies Of a long and blameless life To securing an invitation Percy's hadn't been to the Wilcox's With Lady McClure, however The McClure's were really too great To know such people as Wilcox's Who were something tremendous in the city But didn't buy pictures And academicians, you know Don't care to cultivate city people Unless they are customers Patrons, the academicians Most usually call them But I prefer the simple business word myself As being a deal less patronizing So Percy's had accepted an invitation From Mrs. Duncan Harrison The wife of the well known member For the hackness division of Elmachire To take a seat in her carriage To and from the Wilcox's Mrs. Harrison knew the habits And manners of American heiresses Too well to offer to chaperone Percy's And indeed, Percy's As a free born American citizen Was quite as well able To take care of herself The wide world over As any three ordinary married English women Now, Mrs. Harrison had a brother An Irish baronet, Sir Justin O' Byron Late of the eight husses Who had been with them to the Wilcox's And who accompanied them home to Hamstead On the back seat of the carriage Sir Justin was one of those charming Ineffective, elusive Irishmen Whom everybody likes And everybody disapproves of He had been everywhere And done everything Except to earn an honest livelihood The total absence of rents During the sixties and seventies Had never prevented his father Old Sir Terence O' Byron Who sat so long for Connemara In the unreformed parliament From sending his son Justin In the state to Eaton And afterwards to a fashionable college at Oxford He gave me the education of a gentleman Sir Justin was won't regretfully to observe But he omitted to give me also the income To keep it up with Nevertheless society felt O' Byron was the sort of man Who must be kept afloat somehow And it kept him afloat Accordingly in those mysterious ways That only society understands And that you and I Who are not society Could never get to the bottom off If you tried for a century Sir Justin himself had essayed parliament too Where he sat for a while behind the great Parnell Without for a moment for feeding society's regard Even in those early days When it was held as prime article of faith By the world that no gentleman Could possibly call himself a home ruler It was only of O' Byron's wild Irish tricks Society said complacently With that single indulgence It always extends to its special favourites And which is in fact The correlative of the unsparing cruelty It shows in turn to those Who happen to offend against Its unwritten precepts If Sir Justin had blown up a Tsar Or two in a fit of political exuberance Society would only have regarded the escapade As one of O' Byron's eccentricities He had also held a commission For a while in a cavalry regiment Which he left, it was understood Owing to a difference of opinion About her lady with the Colonel And he was now a gentleman at large On London society Supposed by those who know more About everyone than one knows about oneself To be on the lookout for a nice girl With a little money Sir Justin had paid Perseus A great deal of attention that particular evening In point of fact He had paid her a great deal of attention From the very first Whenever he met her And on the way back home from the dance He had kept his eyes fixed On Perseus' face To an extent that was almost embarrassing The pretty Californian Leant back in her place in the carriage And surveyed him languidly She was looking at her level best that night In her pale pink dress With the famous remanette rubies In a cascade of red light Setting off the snowy neck of hers It was a neck for a painter Sir Justin let his eyes fall regretfully More than once on the glittering rubies He liked and admired Perseus Oh, quite immensely Your society man Who had been through seven or eight London seasons Could hardly be expected to go quite so far As falling in love with any woman His habit is rather to look about him critically Among all the nice girls Trotted out by their mamas Lordly inspection And to reflect with a faint smile That this, that or the other one Might perhaps really suit him If it were not for And there comes in the inevitable But of all human commendation Still, Sir Justin admitted With a sigh to himself That he liked Perseus ever so much She was so fresh and original And she talked so cleverly As for Perseus She would have given her eyes Like every other American girl To be made my lady And she had seen no man yet With that auxiliary title in his gift Whom she liked half so well As this delightful wild Irishman In the McLeer's door the carriage stopped So Justin jumped out And gave his hand to Perseus You know the house well of course Sir Everett McLeer's Is one of those large artistic mansions In red brick and old oak The top of the hill And it stands a little way back from the road Discreetly retired The big wooden porch Very convenient for leave taking So Justin ran up the steps with Perseus To ring the bell for her He had too much of the repressible Irish blood in his veins To leave that pleasant task to his sister's footmen But he didn't ring at once At the risk of keeping Mrs. Harrison Waiting outside for nothing He stopped and talked a minute or so With a pretty American You look charming tonight Miss Remanade He said as she threw back her light opera Wrap for a moment in the porch And displayed a single flash of the snowy neck With the famous rubies Those stones become you so She looked at him and smiled You think so She said a little tremulous For even your American heiress After all is a woman Well I'm glad you do But it's goodbye tonight Sir Justin For I go next week to Paris Even in the gloom of the porch Just lighted By an artistic red and blue lantern In wrought iron She could see a shade of disappointment Pass quickly over his handsome face As he answered with a little gulp No, you don't mean that Oh Miss Remanade I am so sorry Then he paused and drew back And yet after all He continued Perhaps And there he checked himself Versus looked at him hastily Yet after all what She asked with evident interest The young man drew an almost inaudible sigh Yet after all Nothing He answered evasively That might do for an English woman Versus put in with American frankness But it won't do for me You must tell me what you mean by it For she reflected sagely That the happiness of two lives Might depend upon those two minutes And how foolish to throw away The chance of a man you really like With a my-lady ship to boot All for the sake of pure convention So Justin leaned against the woodwork Of the retiring porch She was a beautiful girl He had hot Irish blood Well yes, just for once He would say the plain truth to her Miss Remanade He began leaning forward And bringing his face close to hers Miss Remanade Versus I'll tell you the reason why Because I like you so much I almost think I love you Versus felt a blood quiver In her tingling cheeks How handsome he was And a baronet And yet you're not altogether sorry She said reproachfully That I'm going to Paris No, not altogether sorry He answered sticking to it I'll tell you why to Miss Remanade I like you very much And I think you like me For a week or two I've been saying to myself I really believe I must ask her to marry me The temptation's been so strong I could hardly resist it And why do you want to resist it? Versus asked all tremulous So Justin hesitated a second And then with a perfectly natural And instinctive moment Though only a gentleman Would have ventured to make it He lifted his hand And just touched tips of his finger The ruby pendant on her necklace This is why He answered simply With manly frankness Versus You're so rich You'd never dare ask you Perhaps you don't know What my answer would be Versus murmured very low Just to preserve her own dignity Oh yes, I think I do The young man applied Gazing deeply into her dark eyes It isn't that If it were only that I wouldn't be so much minded But I think you'd take me There was moisture in her eye He went on more boldly I know you would take me, Versus And that's why I don't ask you You're a great deal too rich And these make it impossible Sir Justin, Versus answered Removing his hand gently But with the moisture growing thicker For she really liked him It's most unkind of you to say so Either you ought not have Told me at all Or else if you did She stopped short Humanly shame overcame her The man leaned forward And spoke earnestly Oh, don't say that He cried from his heart I couldn't bear to offend you But I couldn't bear either To let you go away Without ever having told you In that case You might have thought I didn't care at all for you And I was only flirting with you But Versus I have cared a great deal about you A great deal And had hard work many times To prevent myself from asking you Now I'll tell you the plain reason why I haven't asked you I'm a man about town Not much good, I'm afraid For anybody or anything When everybody says I'm on the lookout for an heiress Which happens not to be true And if I married you Everybody would say Ah, there, I told you so Now, I wouldn't mind that for myself I'm a man And I could snap my fingers at them But I'd mind it for you, Versus For I'm enough in love with you To be very, very jealous, indeed For your honour I couldn't bear to think people should say There's that pretty American girl Versus Remanette That was, you know She'd thrown herself away Upon that good-for-nothing Irishman Justin O' Byron A regular fortune hunter Wanted her for her money So for your sake, Versus I'd rather not ask you I'd rather leave you For some better man to marry But I wouldn't, Versus cried aloud Oh, sir Justin You must believe me You must remember At that precise moment Mrs. Harrison put her head out of the carriage window And called out rather loudly Why, Justin, what's keeping you? Though horses will catch their deaths of cold And they were clipped this morning Come back at once, my dear boy Besides, you know, lay common answers All right, Nora, her brother answered I won't be a minute We can't get them to answer this precious bell I believe it don't ring But I'll try again anyhow And half forgetting That his own words weren't strictly true For he hadn't yet tried He pressed the knob with a vengeance Is that your room with the light burning, Miss Remanette? He went on In a fairly loud official voice As a servant came to answer The one with the balcony, I mean Quite Venetian, isn't it? Reminds one of Romeo and Juliet But most convenient for a burglary, too Such nice low rails Mind you, take good care of the Remanette rubies I don't want to take care of them, Perseus answered Wiping her dim eyes hissily With a lace pocket handkerchief If they make you feel as you say, Sir Justin I don't mind if they go Let the burglar take them And even as she spoke The Maclear footman, immutable, sphinx-like Opened the door for her Perseus sat long in her own room that night Before she began undressing Her head was full of Sir Justin And these mysterious hints of his At last, however She took her rubies off And a pretty silk bodice I don't care for them at all She thought with a gulp If they keep from me the love of the man I'd like to marry It was late before she fell asleep And when she did Her rest was troubled She dreamt a great deal In her dreams Sir Justin and Dan's music And the rubies And burglars were incongruously mingled And when she woke up for it She slept late next morning And Lady Maclear let her sleep on Thinking she was probably wearied out With much dancing the previous evening As though any amount of excitement Could ever wearied a pretty American About ten o'clock she woke up with a start A weak feeling oppressed her That somebody had come in during the night To take her rubies She rose hastily And went to her dressing table to look for them The case was there alright She opened it and looked at it Oh prophetic soul The rubies were gone And the box was empty Now, Persis had honestly said that night before The burglar might take her rubies if he chose And she wouldn't mind the loss of them That was last night And the rubies hadn't then as yet been taken This morning somehow Things seemed quite different It would be rough on us all Especially on politicians If we must always be bound by what we said yesterday Persis was an American And no American is insensible To the charms of precious stones It is a savage taste which European immigrants Seem to have inherited obliquely From their red Indian predecessors She rushed over to the bell And rang it with a feminine violence Lady McLears made answer the summons as usual She was a clever, demure looking girl This maid of Lady McLears And when Persis cried to her wildly Sent for the police at once And tells her Everett, my jewels are stolen She answered, yes miss With such sober acquiescence That Persis, who was American And therefore a bundle of nerves Turn round and stared at her As an incomprehensible mystery No Mahatma could have been more unmoved She seemed quite to expect those rubies would be stolen And to take no more notice of the incident Then if Persis had told her she wanted hot water Lady McLear indeed greatly prided herself On this cultivated imperturbability of Perthas She regarded it as the fine flower Of English domestic service Where Persis was American And saw things otherwise To her, the calm repose Which Perthas answered, yes miss Certainly miss, I'll go and tell Sir Everett Seemed nothing short of exasperating Perthas went off with the news Closing the door quite softly And a few minutes later Lady McLear herself appeared In the Californian's room To console her visitor Under this severe domestic affliction She found Persis sitting up in the bed With a pretty French dressing jacket Pale blue with a reverse of fawn color Reading a book of verses Why my dear, Lady McLear exclaimed Then you have found them again, I suppose Perthas had told us you'd lost your lovely rubies So I have, dear Lady McLear Persis answered, wiping her eyes They had gone, they had been stolen By the door when I came home last night And the window was open Somebody must have come in This way or that, and taken them But whenever I'm in trouble I try a dose of browning He's splendid for the nerves He's so consoling, you know He brings one to anchor She breakfasted in bed She wouldn't leave the room She declared till the police arrived After breakfast, she rose And put on a dainty Parisian morning wrap Americans have always such pretty bedroom things For these informal receptions And sat up in a state to evade the police officer Sir Everett himself, much disturbed That such a mishap should have happened in his house Went round in person to fetch the official While he was gone Lady McLear made a thorough search of the room But couldn't find trace of the missing rubies Are you sure you put them in the case, dear? She asked for the honour of the household And Persis answered, quite confident, Lady McLear I always put them the moment I take them off And when I came to look for them this morning The case was empty They were very valuable, I believe Lady McLear said, inquiringly Six thousand pounds was the figure in your money, I guess Persis answered, roofily I don't know if you call that a lot of money in England But we do in America There was a moment's pause And then Persis spoke again Lady McLear, she said abruptly Do you consider that maid of yours, a Christian woman Lady McLear was startled That was hardly the light in which she was accustomed To regard the lower classes Well, I don't know about that, she said slowly That's a great deal, you know, dear To assert about anybody, especially one's maid But I should think she was honest Quite decidedly honest Well, that's the same thing about, isn't it? Persis answered, much relieved I am glad you think that so For I was almost half afraid of her She's too quiet for my taste somehow So silent, you know, and inscrutable Oh, my dear, her host described Don't blame her for silence That's just what I like about her Exactly why I chose her for Such a nice, noiseless girl Moves about the room like a cat on tiptoe Knows her proper place And never dreams of speaking Unless she's spoken to Well, you may like them that way In Europe, Persis responded, frankly But in America, we prefer them A little bit more human Twenty minutes later, the police officer arrived He wasn't in uniform, the inspector Feeling at once the gravity of the case And recognizing that this was a big thing In which there was glory to be won And perhaps promotion Sent the detective at once And advised that if possible Nothing should be said to the household On the subject for the present Till the detective had taken a good look And found the premises That was useless, Sir Everett feared For a lady made new And the ladies made would sure go down All agogged with the news To the servants hall immediately However, they might try No harm in trying And sooner the detective got round to the house Of course, the better The detective accompanied him back The team faced close shaven Irreproachable-looking man Like a vulgarized copy Of Mr. John Morley He was curt and business-like His first question was Have the servants been told about this? Lady McClure looked inquiringly Across at Bertha She herself had been sitting all the time With the bereaved Persis to console her Downing under this heavy affliction No, my lady, Bertha answered Ever calm, invaluable servant Bertha I didn't mention it to anybody Downstairs on purpose Thinking, perhaps, it might be decided To search the servants' boxes The detective pricked up his ears He was engaged already In glancing casually around the room He moved about it now, like a conjurer With quiet steps and slow He doesn't get on one's nerves Persis remarked approvingly In an undertone to her friend Then she added aloud What's your name, please, Mr. Officer? The detective was lifting a lace handkerchief On the dressing table at the side He turned round softly Gregory, madam, he answered He was bouncing at the girl And going on with his occupation The same as the powders Persis interposed with a shudder I used to take them when I was a child I never could bear them We are useful as remedies The detective replied with a quiet smile But nobody likes us And he relapsed contendingly Into his work once more Searching around the apartment The first thing we have to do He said with a calm air of superiority Standing now by the window With one hand in his pocket Is to satisfy ourselves whether or not There has really at all been a robbery You must look through the room well And see you haven't left rubies Lying about loose somewhere Such things often happen We are constantly called in To investigate a case Of the matter of ladies' carelessness And this Persis fled up A daughter of the great republic Isn't accustomed to be doubted Like a mere European woman I am quite sure I took them off She said And put them back in the jewel case Of that I am just confident There isn't a doubt possible Mr. Gregory redoubled this search I should say that settles the matter He answered blandly Our experience is that whenever A lady's perfectly certain Beyond the possibility of doubt She put a thing away safely It's absolutely sure To turn up where she says She didn't put it Persis answered him never a word Her manners had not that reporse That stamps the cast Of where they were So to prevent an outbreak She took refuge in Browning Mr. Gregory, nothing abashed Searched the room thoroughly Up and down Without the faintest regard To Persis' feelings He was a detective, he said And his business was first of all To unmask crime Irrespective of circumstances Lady McClure stood by, meanwhile With the imperturbable birther Mr. Gregory investigated Every hole in cranny Like a man who wishes to let The world see for itself He performs a disagreeable duty With unflinching parenice When he had finished He turned to Lady McClure And now, if you please He said blandly We will proceed to investigate The servants' boxes Lady McClure looked at her maid Birther, she said Go downstairs And see that none of the other servants Come up, meanwhile, to their bedrooms Lady McClure was not quite To the manner born And had never acquired the hateful Aristocratic habit Of calling women servants By their surnames only But the detective interposed No, no, he said sharply This young woman had better Stop here with Miss Remanette Strictly under her eye Till I have searched the boxes For if I find nothing there It may perhaps be my Disagreeable duty, by and by To call in a female detective To search her It was Lady McClure's Turn to fair of now Why, this is my own maid She said in a chilly tone And I have every confidence in her Very sorry about that, my lady Mr. Gregory responded In a most official voice But our experience teaches us That if there's a person in the case Whom nobody ever dreams of suspecting That's the person One who has committed the robbery Why? You'll be suspecting myself next Lady McClure cried with some disgust Your lady ships Just the last person In the world I should think of suspecting The detective answered With a differential bow Which after his previous speech Was to say, the least of its equivocal Persis began to get annoying She didn't like half the look Of what the girl birthed herself But still She was there as Lady McClure's guests And she couldn't expose Her hostess to discomfort On her own account The girl shall not be searched She put in growing hot I don't care a cent Whether I lose the wretched stones or not Compared to human dignity What are they worth? Not five minutes consideration They are worth just seven years Mr. Gregory answered With a professional definiteness And as to searching, why? Let's out of your hands now This is a criminal case I'm here to discharge a public duty I don't mind in the least being searched Bertha put in obligingly With an air of indifference You can search me if you like When you've got a warrant for it The detective looked up sharply So also did Persis This ready acquaintance With liberty of the subject In criminal cases impressed her unfavorably Ah, we will see about that Mr. Gregory answered with a cool smile Meanwhile, Lady McClure I'll have a look at the boxes The search, strictly illegal Brought out nothing Mr. Gregory returned to Persis's bedroom Disconsolate You can leave the room He said to Bertha And Bertha glided out I have set another man outside To keep a constant eye on her He added an explanation By this time, Persis had almost made her mind up As to who was the culprit But she said nothing avert for Lady McClure's sake To the detective As for that immovable official He began asking questions Some of them Persis thought Almost bordering on personal Where had she been last night? Was she sure she had really worn the rubies? How did she come home? Was she certain she took them off? Did the maid help her undress? Who came back with her in the carriage? To all these questions Rapidly fired off with cross-examining acuteness Persis answered in the direct American fashion She was sure she had the rubies on When she came back home to Hampstead Because Sir Justin O Byron Who came back with her in his sister's carriage Had noticed them the last thing And had told her to do care of them At mention of that name The detective smiled meaningly A meaning smile is a stalk and traitor detective Oh, Sir Justin O Byron He repeated With quite self-constrained He came back with you in the carriage then And he reset the same side with you Lady McLeo grew indignant That was Mr. Gregory's cue Really, Sir? She said angrily If you are going to suspect gentlemen in Sir Justin's position We shall none of us be safe from you The law, Mr. Gregory replied With an air of profound difference Is no respecter of persons But it ought to be of characters Lady McLeo cried warmly What's the good of having a blameless character? I should like you to know if If it doesn't allow you to commit a robbery With impunity, the detective interposed Finishing a sentence in his own way Well, well, that's true That's perfectly true But Sir Justin's character, you see Can hardly be called blameless He's a gentleman, purses cried With flashing eyes turning round upon the officer And he's quite incapable of such a mean And despicable crime as you dare to suspect him of Oh, I see, the officer answered Like one to whom a welcome ray of light Breaks suddenly through a great darkness Sir Justin's a friend of yours Did he come into the porch with you? He did, purses answered, flushing crimson And if you have had the insolence to bring a charge against him Calm yourself, madam The detective replied coolly I do nothing of the sort At this stage of the proceedings It's possible there may have been no robbery In case at all You must keep our minds open for the present To every possible alternative It's a delicate matter to hint at But before we go any further Do you think perhaps Sir Justin may have carried the rubies away by mistake And tangled the misclothes Say, for example, his court sleep It was a loophole of escape But purses didn't jump at it He had never the opportunity She answered with a flash And I know quite well So there on my neck when he left me For the last thing he said to me was Looking up at this very window That balcony is awfully convenient for a burglary Mind you take good care of the remnant rubies And I remembered what he said When I took them off last night And that's what made me so sure I really had them And you slept with the window open The detective went on, still smiling to himself Well, here we have all the materials To be sure for our first class mystery For some more days Nothing further turned up of importance About the Great Ruby Rubbery It got into the papers of course As everything does nowadays And all London was talking of it Purses found herself quite famous As the American lady who had lost her jewels People pointed her out in the park People stared at her heart through their opera glasses At the theatre Indeed the possession of the celebrated remnant rubies Had never made her half so conspicuous in the world As the loss of them made her It was almost worthwhile losing them Purses thought to be so much made off As she was in society in consequence All the world knows A young lady must be somebody When she can offer a reward of 500 pounds For the recovery of Jew jaws Valued at 6000 Sir Justin met her in the row one day Then you don't go to Paris for a while yet Until you get them back He inquired very low And Purses answered blushing No Sir Justin, not yet And I'm almost glad of it No, you don't mean that The young man cried with perfect boyish ardour Well, I confess Miss Remanette The first thing I thought myself When I read it in the Times Was just the very same Then after all she won't go yet to Paris Purses looked at him From her pony with American frankness And I, she said curing I found anchor in Browning For what do you think I read And learned to rate a true man's heart Far above rubies The book opened at the very place And there I found anchor But when Sir Justin went round to his rooms That same evening His servant said to him A gentleman was inquiring for you here this afternoon Sir A closure with gentlemen Not very proposing And it seemed to me somehow Sir As if he was trying to pump me Sir Justin's face was grave He went to his bedroom at once He knew what the man wanted And he turned straight to his wardrobe Looking hard at the dress coat He had worn on the eventful evening Things may cling to his sleeve, don't you know Or we entangled in a cuff Or get casually into a pocket Or someone may put them there For the next ten days or so Mr. Gregory was busy, constantly busy Without doubt, he was the most active And energetic of detectives He carried out so fully His own official principle of suspecting everybody From China to Peru That at last poor Purses got fairly mazed With his web of possibilities Nobody was safe from his cultivated And highly trained suspicion Not Sir Everett in his studio Nor Lady McClure in her boudoir Nor the butler in his pantry Nor Sir Justin O Byron in his rooms in St. James Mr. Gregory kept an open mind Against everybody and everything He even doubted the parrot And had views as to the intervention Of rats and terriers Purses got rather tired at last Of his perverse ingenuity Especially as she had a very shrewd idea Herself who had stolen the rubies When he suggested various doubts however Which seemed remotely to implicate Sir Justin's honesty The sensitive American girl Felt it go on her nerves And refused to listen to him Though Mr. Gregory never ceased to enforce upon her By precept and example His own pet doctrine That the last person on earth One would likely to suspect Is always the one who turns out to have done it A morning or two later Purses looked out of her window As she was dressing her hair She dressed it herself now Though she was an American heiress And therefore of course The laziest of her kind For she had taken an unaccountable dislike Somehow to the quiet girl Bertha On this particular morning however When Purses looked out She saw Bertha engaged in a close And apparently very intimate conversation With the hamstered postman This sight disturbed the unstable equilibrium In her equanimity not a little Why should Bertha go to the door To the postman at all? Surely it has no part The duty of Lady McClure's maid To take in the letters And why should she want to go Prying in the question Of who wrote to Miss Remanette? Purses intensely conscious herself That a note from Sir Justin Lay on the top of the postman's bundle She recognized it at once Even at that distance below By the peculiar shape Of the broad rough envelope Jump to the natural feminine conclusion That Bertha must needs be influenced By some obstructive motive Of which she herself purses Was to say the very least A component element We are all prone to see everything From a personal standpoint indeed The one quality which makes a man or a woman Into a possible novelist Good, bad or indifferent Is just the special power Of throwing himself or herself Into a great many people's personalities Alternately And this is a power possessed on average By not one in thousand men Or not one in ten thousand women Purses rang the bell violently Bertha came up, all smiles Did you want anything, Miss? Purses could have choked her Yes, she answered, plainly Taking the bull by the horns I want to know what you were doing down there Prying into other people's letter with the postman Bertha looked up at her, ever bland She answered at once without a second's hesitation The postman's my young man, Miss And we hoped before very long Now to be married Odious thing, purses thought A glib lie always ready On the tip of her tongue for every emergency But Bertha's full heart was beating violently Beating with love and hope And deferred anxiety Little later in the day Purses mentioned the incident casually To Lady McClure Mainly in order to satisfy herself That the girl had been lying Lady McClure, however Gave a qualified assent I believe she's engaged to the postman, she said I think I've heard so Though I make it a rule, you see, my dear To know as little as I can Of these people's love affairs They are so very uninteresting But Bertha certainly told me She wouldn't leave me to get married For an indefinite period That was only ten days ago She said her young man wasn't yet in a position To make a home for her Perhaps, purses suggested grimly Something has occurred meanwhile To better her position Such strange things crop up She may have come into a fortune Perhaps so, Lady McClure replied languidly The subject bored her Though, if so It must really have been very sudden For I think it was morning before you lost your jewels She told me so Purses thought that odd But she made no comment Before dinner that evening She burst suddenly into Lady McClure's room for a minute Bertha was dressing her lady's hair Friends were coming to dine Among them, Sir Justin How do these pearls go with my complexion, Lady McClure? Purses asked rather anxiously For she especially wished to look her best that evening For one of the party Oh, charming! Her hostess replied answered With a society smile Never saw anything suit you better, Purses Except my poor rubies Purses cried rather ruefully For the colored G-Jaws Are dear to the savage and the woman I wish I could get them back I wonder that man Gregory hasn't succeeded in finding them Oh, my dear! Lady McClure drawled out You may be sure by this time they're safe at Antsudam That's the only place in Europe now to look for them Why to Antsudam, my lady? Bertha interspersed suddenly With a quick-sight glance at Purses Lady McClure threw her head back in surprise At so unwanted an intrusion What do you want to know that for, child? She asked somewhat curtly Why to be cut, of course? All the diamond-cutters in the world Are concentrated in Antsudam And the first thing a thief does When he steals big jewels Is to send them across And have them cut in new shapes So they can't be identified I shouldn't have thought so Bertha put in calmly They'd have known who to send them to Lady McClure turned to her sharply Why these things, she said With a calm air of knowledge Are always done by experienced thieves They know the robes well And are in league with the receivers The whole world over But Gregory has his eye on Antsudam I'm sure, and we'll soon hear something Yes, my lady, Bertha answered In her aqueousen tone And relapsed into silence Four days later, about nine at night That hard-worked man, the postie on the beat With loitering outside Sir Everett McClure's house Openly defining the rules of the department In close conference with Bertha Well, any news? Bertha asked, trembling over with excitement For she was a very different person Outside with her lover From the demure and imperturbable Model maid who waited on my lady Oh, yes, the postie answered With a low laugh of triumph A letter from Amsterdam And I think we have fixed it Bertha almost flung herself upon him Oh, Harry, she cried, all eagerness This is too good to be true Then in just one other month We can really get married There was a minute's pause Inarticulately filled by the sounds of Unrepresentable through the art Of the type founder Then Harry spoke again It's an awful lot of money, he said musing A regular fortune And what's more, Bertha If it hadn't been for your cleverness You never should have cut it Bertha pressed his hand affectionately Even ladies maid are human Well, if I hadn't been so much in love with you She answered frankly I don't think I could have ever had the wit to manage it But, oh, Harry Love makes one do or try anything If Persis had heard those singular words She would have felt no doubt was any longer possible Next morning at ten o'clock A policeman came around, post haste To Sir Everett's He asked to say, Miss Remanette When Persis came down in a morning wrap He had put a brief message from the headquarters To give her The jewels are found, Miss Will you step around and identify them? Persis drove back with him all trembling Lady McClure accompanied her At the police station, they left their cab And entered the anti-rune A little group had assembled there The first person Persis distinctly made out In it was Sir Justin A great terror seized her Gregory had so poisoned her mind by this time With suspicion of everybody and everything She had came across That she was afraid of her own shadow But the next moment She saw clearly he wasn't there as prisoner Or even as witness Merely as spectator She acknowledged him with a hasty bow And cast her eye around again The next person she definitely distinguished Was Bertha As calm and cool as ever But in the very center of the group Occupying as it Were the place of honor Which naturally belongs to the prisoner On all similar occasions Persis was not surprised at that She had known it all along She glanced meaningly at Gregory Who stood a little behind Looking by no means triumphant Persis found his dejection odd But he was a proud detective And perhaps someone else had affected the capture These are your jewels, I believe The inspector said Holding them up And Persis admitted it This is a painful case The inspector went on A very painful case He grieved to have discovered Such a clue against one of our own men But as he owns it to himself An intent to throw himself on the mercy of the coat It's no use talking about it He won't attempt to defend it Indeed, with such evidence I think he's doing what's best and wisest Persis stood there all dazed I don't understand She cried with a swimming brain Who on earth are you talking about? The inspector pointed mutely With one hand at Gregory And for the first time Persis saw he was guarded She clapped her hand to her head In a moment it all broke in upon her When she had called in the police The rubies had never been stolen at all It was Gregory who stole them She understood it now at once The real facts came back to her She had taken her necklet off at night Laid it carelessly down on the dressing table Two full of Ser Justin Covered it accidentally with her lace pocket handkerchief And straight away forgotten all about it Next day she missed it And jumped at conclusions When Gregory came He spied the rubies as cons Under the corner of the handkerchief Of course, being a woman She had naturally looked everywhere Except in the place where she had laid them And knowing it was a safe case He had quickly pocketed them Before her very eyes All unsuspected He felt sure nobody could accuse him of robbery Which was committed before he came And which he had himself been called in to investigate The worst of it is The inspector went on He had woven a very ingenious case against Ser Justin O' Byron Whom we were on the very point of arresting today If this young woman hadn't come in in the eleventh hour In the very nick of time And earned the reward by giving us the clue That led to the discovery And the recovery of Jules They were brought over this morning By an Amsterdam detective Persis looked hard at Bertha Bertha answered her look My young man was the postman miss She explained quite simply And after what my lady said I put him up to watch Mr. Gregory's delivery For the letter from Amsterdam I had suspected him from the very first And when the letter came We had him arrested at once And found out who were the people in Amsterdam Who had the rubies Persis gasped with astonishment Her brain was reeling But Gregory in the background Put in one last word Well, I was right after all He said with professional pride I told you The very last person you dream of suspecting Was sure to be the one that actually did it Lady O' Byron's rubies Were very much admired at Monte Carlo Last season Mr. Gregory had found permanent employment For the next seven years At her majesties queries On the Isle of Portland Bertha and her postman have retired to Canada With 500 pounds to buy a farm And everybody says Sir Justin O' Byron has beaten the record After all, even for Irish baronettes By making a marriage at once Of money and affection The end of The Great Ruby Robbery By Grant Allen