From Veldt Camp Fires Part 12

Staarbrucker broke in with some heat: "If you're going to tell all your friends, you may as well give the show away at once. The thing will be all over 'camp,' and I wash my hands of it. Let me tell you, you're doing a most imprudent thing."

[Kimberley is still called by its early name of "camp" among old inhabitants.]

"Really," said Frank, coolly enough, "the stone is mine at present, and I take the risk of holding it. I haven't asked you to run yourself into any trouble on my account."

"No," returned the other, "but you are under my roof, and if it became known that I and my sister knew of this find, and of its concealment, we should be practically in the same hole as yourself. Now, my dear boy, take my advice, keep your discovery to yourself till we meet this evening, and let us settle to run this show together. You won't get a better offer, I'm sure of it."

"Understand, I promise nothing," said Frank, who scarcely relished Staarbrucker's persistency. "I'll see you again to-night."

After dinner that evening, the two men met again. Frank reopened the topic, which had meantime been engrossing Staarbrucker's thoughts to the exclusion of all else.

Frank at once declared his intention of going to see the manager next day, to tell him of the find and take his advice.

Otto Staarbrucker made a gesture of intense annoyance. "You are never going to play such an infernal fool's game as that, surely?" he burst out. "I've made you a liberal offer to prospect thoroughly at my own expense the place where that stone came from, on half shares. If you accept my offer, well and good. If you don't, I shall simply tell your little story to the detective department, and see what they think of it.

Think it well over. I'll come and see you to-morrow morning, early."

He turned on his heel, and went out of the house.

Frank had felt a little uncomfortable during Otto's speech, but now he was angry--so indignant at the turn affairs had taken, and at the threat, idle though it was, held out to him, that he determined next day to quit the house and have done with the man altogether. He had never liked him. True, there was Nina. Nina--so utterly different from her brother. He should be sorry indeed to leave her. She had a very warm corner in his heart. He would miss the pleasant evenings spent in her company. What should he do without her merry _camaraderie_, her kindly, unselfish ways, the near presence of her bewitching face, and her evident preference for his company? At that moment Nina entered the room. Frank looked, as he felt, embarra.s.sed, and the girl saw it at once.

"What's the matter, Frank? You ought to look happy with that eight hundred pound diamond of yours; yet you don't. Aren't things going as you like, or what is it?"

"No," answered Frank, reddening, "things are not going quite right.

Your brother has made me a proposition, which I don't quite see in his light, and we've rather fallen out about it. However, my tiff with Otto need make no difference between you and me. We haven't quarrelled, and I hope you won't let our old friendship be broken on that account."

"Indeed, no," returned Nina, "why should it? But I shall see Otto and talk to him; I can't have you two falling out about a wretched diamond, even although it is a big one. Since you came here, things have been so much pleasanter, and,"--the girl paused, and a flush came to her face, "well, we can't afford to quarrel, can we? Friends--real friends, I mean--are none too plentiful in Kimberley."

Nina spoke with a good deal of embarra.s.sment for her, and a good deal of feeling, and she looked so sweet, such an air of tenderness and of sympathy shone in her eyes, that Frank was visibly touched.

"Nina," he said, "I'm really sorry about this affair. Perhaps in the morning it may blow over. I hope so. I have had something on my mind lately, which perhaps you can guess at, but which I won't enter upon just now. Meanwhile, don't say anything to your brother about this row.

Let us see what happens to-morrow. Heaven knows I don't want to quarrel with any one belonging to you."

Early next morning, while Frank sat up in bed sipping his coffee and smoking a cigarette, the door opened, and Otto Staarbrucker entered the room. He had been thinking over matters a good deal during the night, and had made up his mind that somehow he and Frank must pull together over this diamond deal. His big, florid face was a trifle solemn, and he spoke quietly for him. But he found Frank as firm as ever against his utmost entreaties.

"I've thought it all out," Frank said; "I don't like your plan, and I mean to show our manager the stone to-day, and tell him all about it. I think it will be best in the long-run." He spoke quietly, but with a mind obviously quite made up.

The blood ran to Otto's head again; all his evil pa.s.sions were getting the upper hand. "Frank, take care," he said. "You are in a dangerous position about this diamond. I don't think you quite realise it. Once more I warn you; don't play the fool. Make up your mind to come in with me and we'll make our fortunes over it."

Frank began to get angry too. "It's no use harping on that string further," he said, "I'm not coming in with you under any circ.u.mstances, and you may as well clearly understand it, and take no for an answer."

Then, half throwing off the light bed-clothing, "I must get up and have breakfast."

Otto glared at him for a second or two before he spoke. "For the last time I ask you, are you coming in with me?"

There was clear threat in the deliberation of his tones, and Frank grew mad under it.

"Oh, go to the d.i.c.kens," he burst out, "I've had enough of this. Clear out of it; I want to get up."

Otto stepped to the door. "I'm going now to the detective office; you'll find you've made a big mistake over this. By Heaven! I'll ruin you, you infernal, stuck-up English pup!"

His face was red with pa.s.sion; he flung open the door, slammed it after him, and went out into the street.

Frank heard him go. "All idle bluff," he said to himself. "The scoundrel! He must have taken me for an idiot, I think. I've had enough of this, and shall clear out, bag and baggage, to-day. Things are getting too unpleasant."

He jumped up, poured the water into his bath, and began his ablutions.

Meanwhile, Otto Staarbrucker, raging with anger and malice, was striding along the shady side of the street, straight for the chief detective's house. Despite his tinge of Jewish blood, there was in his system a strong touch of the wild ungovernable temper, not seldom found in the Teutonic race. It was not long before he had reached the detective's house, and announced himself. Carefully subduing, as far as possible, the outward manifestation of his malicious wrath, he informed the acute official, to whom he was, at his own request, shown, that his lodger, Mr Farnborough, was in possession of a valuable unregistered diamond, which he stated he had found in a stuffed crocodile's interior, or some equally improbable place. That to his own knowledge the stone had been unregistered for some days, although he had repeatedly urged Farnborough to declare it; that the whole surroundings of the case were, to his mind, very suspicious; and, finally, that, as he could not take the responsibility of such a position of affairs under his roof, he had come down to report the matter.

The detective p.r.i.c.ked up his ears at the story, reflected for a few moments, and then said: "I suppose there is no mistake about this business, Mr Staarbrucker. It is, as you know, a very serious matter, and may mean the 'Breakwater.' Mr Farnborough has a good position in De Beers, and some strong friends, and it seems rather incredible (although we're never surprised at anything, where diamonds are in question) that he should have got himself into such a mess as you tell me."

"I am quite certain of what I tell you," replied Staarbrucker. "If you go up to my house now, you'll find Farnborough in his bedroom, and the stone's somewhere on him, or in his room. Don't lose time."

"Well," responded the detective, "I'll see to the matter at once. So long, Mr Staarbrucker!"

Mr Flecknoe, the shrewdest and most active diamond official in Kimberley, as was his wont, lost not an instant. He nosed the tainted gale of a quarry. In this case he was a little uncertain, it is true; but yet there was the tell-tale taint, the true diamond taint, and it must at once be followed. Mr Flecknoe ran very mute upon a trail, and in a few minutes he was at Staarbrucker's bungalow. Staarbrucker himself had, wisely perhaps, gone down to his store, there to await events. Vitriolic anger still ran hotly within him. He cared for nothing in the world, and was perfectly reckless, provided only that Frank Farnborough were involved in ruin, absolute and utter.

Mr Flecknoe knocked, as a matter of form, in a pleasant, friendly way at the open door of the cottage, and then walked straight in. He seemed to know his way very completely--there were few things in Kimberley that he did not know--and he went straight to Frank's bedroom, knocked again and entered. Frank was by this time out of his bath, and in the act of shaving. It cannot be denied that the detective's appearance, so soon after Staarbrucker's threat, rather staggered him, and he paled perceptibly. The meshes of the I.D.B. nets are terribly entangling, as Frank knew only too well, and I.D.B. laws are no matters for light jesting. Mr Flecknoe noted the change of colour.

[I.D.B., Illicit Diamond Buying, a highly criminal offence in South Africa.]

"Well, Mr Flecknoe," said the younger man, as cheerily as he could muster, for he knew the detective very well, "what can I do for you?"

"I've come about the diamond, Mr Farnborough; I suppose you can show t.i.tle to it?"

"No, I can't show a t.i.tle," replied Frank. "It came into my possession in a very astounding way, a day or two since, and I was going to tell the manager all about it to-day and 'declare' the stone."

Frank then proceeded to tell the detective shortly the whole story, and finally, the scene with Staarbrucker that morning.

Flecknoe listened patiently enough, and at the end said quietly: "I am afraid, Mr Farnborough, you have been a little rash. I shall have to ask you to come down to the office with me and explain further. Have you the stone?"

"Yes, here's the stone," replied Frank, producing the diamond from a little bag from under his pillow, and exhibiting it on his palm. "I won't hand it over to you at this moment, but I'll willingly do so at the office in presence of third parties. Just let me finish shaving, and I'll come along."

"Very well," said Mr Flecknoe, rather grimly, taking a chair. "I'll wait."

That evening, some astounding rumours concerning a De Beers official were afloat in Kimberley. Farnborough's absence from his usual place at the "Central" _table d'hote_ was noticed significantly, and next morning the whole town was made aware, by the daily paper, of some startling occurrences. Two days later it became known that Frank Farnborough had been sent for trial on a charge of I.D.B.; that his friend Staarbrucker had, with manifest reluctance, given important and telling evidence against him; that bail had been, for the present, refused, and that the unfortunate young man, but twenty-four hours since a universal Kimberley favourite, well known at cricket, football, and other diversions, now lay in prison in imminent peril of some years' penal servitude at Capetown Breakwater. The town shook its head, said to itself, "Another good man gone wrong," instanced, conversationally over the bars of the "Transvaal," "Central," and other resorts, cases of the many promising young men who had gone under, victims of the poisonous fascination of the diamond, and went about its business.

But there was a certain small leaven of real friends, who refused utterly to believe in Frank's guilt. These busied themselves unweariedly in organising his defence, cabling to friends in England, collecting evidence, and doing all in their power to bring their favourite through one of the heaviest ordeals that a man may be confronted with.

The morning of the trial came at last. The season was now South African mid-winter; there was a clear blue sky over Kimberley, and the air was crisp, keen, and sparkling under the brilliant sunlight. The two judges and resident magistrate came into court, alert and sharp-set, and proceedings began. Frank was brought in for trial, looking white and hara.s.sed, yet determined.

As he came into court, and faced the crowded gathering of advocates, solicitors, witnesses, and spectators--for this was a _cause celebre_ in Kimberley--he was encouraged to see, here and there, the cheering nod and smile, and even the subdued wave of the hand, of many sympathising friends, black though the case looked against him. And he was fired, too, by the flame of indignation as he saw before him the big, florid face--now a trifle more florid even than usual from suppressed excitement--and the shining, upturned eyegla.s.ses of his arch-enemy and lying betrayer, Otto Staarbrucker. Thank G.o.d! Nina was not in the a.s.sembly; she, at least, had no part or lot in this shameful scene. And yet, after what had pa.s.sed, could Nina be trusted? Nina, with all her friendliness, her even tenderer feelings, was but the sister of Otto Staarbrucker. Her conduct ever since Frank's committal had been enigmatical; her brother, it was to be supposed, had guarded her safely, and, although she had been subpoenaed upon Frank's behalf, she had vouchsafed no evidence, nor given a sign of interest in her former friend's fate.

Counsel for the prosecution, a well-known official of Griqualand West, opened the case in his gravest and most impressive manner. The offence for which the prisoner was to be tried was, he said, although unhappily but too familiar to Kimberley people, one of the gravest in the Colony.

One feature of this unhappy case was the position of the prisoner, who, up to the time of the alleged offence, had borne an unimpeachable character, and had been well known as one of the most popular young men in Kimberley. Possibly, this very popularity had furnished the reason for the crime, the cause of the downfall. Popularity, as most men knew, was, in Kimberley, an expensive luxury, and it would be shown that for some time past, Farnborough had moved and lived in a somewhat extravagant set. The learned counsel then proceeded to unfold with great skill the case for the prosecution. Mr Staarbrucker, an old friend of the prisoner, and a gentleman of absolutely unimpeachable testimony, would, with the greatest reluctance, prove that he had by chance found Farnborough in possession of a large and valuable stone, which the prisoner--apparently surprised in the act of admiring it--had alleged, in a confused way, to have been found--in what?--in the interior of a dried crocodile! One of the most painful features of this case would be the evidence of Miss Staarbrucker, who, though with even more reluctance than her brother, would corroborate in every detail the surprising of the prisoner in possession of the stolen diamond. He approached this part of the evidence with extreme delicacy; but, in the interests of justice, it would be necessary to show that a friendship of the closest possible nature, to put it in no tenderer light, had latterly sprung into existence between the prisoner and the young lady in question. Clearly then, no evidence could well be stronger than the testimony, wrung from Miss Staarbrucker with the greatest reluctance and the deepest pain, as to the finding of Farnborough in possession of the diamond, and of the lame and utterly incredible tale invented by him on the spur of the moment, when thus surprised by the brother and sister.

The evidence of Mr and Miss Staarbrucker would be closely supported by that of Mr Flecknoe, the well-known Kimberley detective, who had made the arrest Mr Staarbrucker, it would be shown, had urged upon the prisoner for two entire days the absolute necessity of giving up and "declaring" the stone. Finally, certain grave suspicions had, chiefly from the demeanour of Farnborough, forced themselves into his mind. One more interview he had with the prisoner, and then, upon his again declining absolutely to take the only safe and proper course open to him, Mr Staarbrucker had, for his own protection, proceeded to the detective department and himself informed the authorities of the presence of the stone. No man could have done more for his friend. He had risked his own and his sister's safety for two days--he could do no more. The prisoner's statement to the Staarbruckers and to Mr Flecknoe was that the crocodile skin came from the Mahalapsi River in North Bechua.n.a.land, and that the stone must have been picked up and swallowed by the living reptile somewhere in those regions. He, counsel, need hardly dwell upon the wildness, the ludicrous impossibility, of such a theory. Three witnesses of the highest credibility and reputation, well known in Kimberley, and in the markets of London and Amsterdam, as experts in diamonds, would declare upon oath that the so-called "Mahalapsi Diamond"--the learned counsel rolled out the phrase with a fine flavour of humorous disdain--came, not from the far-off borders of the Bechua.n.a.land river, but from the recesses of the De Beers mine--from Kimberley itself!

[It is perfectly well known in South Africa that diamond experts can at once pick out a particular stone and indicate its mine of origin.

Practice has created perfection in this respect, and stones, whether from De Beers, Du Toit's Pan, Bultfontein, the Kimberley mine, or the Vaal River, can be at once identified.]

Here there was a visible "sensation" (that mysterious compound of shifting, whispering, and restless movement) in court. "Yes," continued the advocate, "the stone is beyond all shadow of a doubt a De Beers stone. It is not registered. The prisoner has no t.i.tle to it; the diamond is a stolen diamond; and if, as I have little doubt, I shall succeed in proving my facts to you clearly and incontestably, the prisoner must take the consequences of his guilt. If indeed he be guilty, then let justice, strict but not vindictive justice, be done.