The Master of the Ceremonies Part 124

"Well, my dear, I'm not a clever woman at all; but I've had so much to do with precious stones that I can't help telling 'em directly. There's nothing valu'ble about them but the silver setting, and if you melt that down there isn't ten pounds' worth in the lot."

"Mrs Barclay--"

"Ah, I'm right, my dear. Those aren't diamonds, but paste; and I remember Josiah saying when I laughed at him, and asked him if he had been taken in--I remember him saying that they were a good-looking lot, and he should keep 'em to let on hire to some lively lady who wanted a suite, and whom he didn't care to trust with diamonds. There, now, are you satisfied?"

"No," cried Claire. "I am certain that I am right. That cross! I know it so well. I've had it in my hands a hundred times. Those bracelets, too. I have often clasped them on Lady Teigne's wrists."

"And put that ornament in her hair, and the other thing round her neck?"

said Mrs Barclay, smiling.

"Yes, often; so often," cried Claire. "Oh, tell me what this means. Of whom did you buy them?"

"Well, that I can't say, my dear; but I'm going to show you that you are wrong," said Mrs Barclay, laughing and showing her white teeth. "Now look here," she continued, as she took up the necklet, and then, crossing to the safe, she picked out an old morocco case, which she laid upon the table. "Open that, my dear," she continued, turning to Cora.

"There's a necklet in there very much like this."

Cora pressed the snap spring, and, in obedience to a nod from Mrs Barclay, took out a brilliant necklet and laid it upon the table.

"There, my dears," cried the plump little woman; "those are diamonds!

Look at them. Those are brilliants. Look at the fire in them; and now lay these beside them. Where's the fire and bright colours? They'd light up and look shiny by candle-light; but, though they'd deceive some folks, they wouldn't cheat me. My Jo-si-ah has shown me the difference too often. There, then, take my word for it, and let's put them away."

"No, no," cried Claire wildly. "I feel as if I have found out something that might clear up a mystery. I dread to inquire further, but I feel as if I must. Mrs Barclay--dear Mrs Barclay--it seems shocking to contradict you so flatly; but you are wrong--I am sure you are wrong.

Those are indeed Lady Teigne's diamonds."

"Now, bless us and save us, my dear, dear child, look here," cried Mrs Barclay, taking up the two necklets, one in each hand, and breathing upon them. "I know these things by heart, my dear. My Jo-si-ah has taught me; and a fine lot of trouble he had, for I'm a stupid old woman.

Now look there."

She breathed on a couple of the largest stones again, and held them out in the light.

"Now see how the breath goes off them, my dears. See the difference?

Those are brilliants. These that you say are Lady Teigne's diamonds are only paste--paste or gla.s.s, as the Italians call it. They make lots of 'em very cleverly, and they're shiny and bright, but they are not precious stones. Now then, are you satisfied? Shall I put 'em all away, and ring for tea?"

"No," said Claire, trembling; "I am not satisfied; and though I feel as if I were going to find out something horrible, I must--I must go on."

"Well--well--well, then, my dear, so you shall go on. I'll do anything to humour you, and try and make you a bit happier. Now, then, what's to be done? Let me warn you, though, that I'm right, and those are not diamonds at all, only bits of gla.s.s, with some tinfoil behind to make 'em shine."

Claire eagerly examined the jewels again one by one.

"Yes--see--both of you," she cried excitedly; "there is the tiny slip of card I put under that snap, because the spring had grown so weak; and there should be a little scratch and a chip in one of the big diamonds in the tiara. No--no--I can't see it," she said hurriedly.

"A scratch and a chip on a diamond!" said Mrs Barclay, smiling. "Oh, my dear, my dear!"

"Yes. There are the marks," cried Claire excitedly. "Look, both of you, look!"

"Well, so they are, my dear," acquiesced Mrs Barclay. "Well, that is strange! But that don't make 'em diamonds, you know. It only proves what I said--that they are paste."

"They were Lady Teigne's jewels," cried Claire; "and I always believed them to be diamonds."

"Well," cried Mrs Barclay, "and some one killed that poor old creature for the sake of getting a few bits of paste. Ugh!"

She threw down the necklet she held with a look of disgust. "If I'd ha'

known I wouldn't ha' touched 'em. My Jo-si-ah couldn't ha' known, or he wouldn't ha' bought 'em. This must be cleared up."

She went toward the bell, but Claire followed and caught her arm.

"What are you going to do?" she said, with an ashy face.

"Ring and ask my Jo-si-ah to come up and talk this over. We don't deal in stolen goods."

"No; don't, don't."

"But we must find out where he bought the things."

"No, no! I couldn't bear to know," faltered Claire. "No, Mrs Barclay, pray don't ask."

"Oh, my poor darling! Catch her, Cora, my dear," cried Mrs Barclay, as Claire staggered back, half fainting, and was helped to the sofa, and fanned and recovered with smelling-salts.

She was just getting rid of the deadly hue when the door opened, and Barclay came in with a bluff "How do, ladies? Why, hallo! what's the matter?"

"Hush! she's coming round," said Mrs Barclay.

"That's better. Why, what are you doing with these things?"

"I had them out, dear, to check off and brush a little. Claire was helping me."

"Mr Barclay," said Claire, rising, and taking a step or two to the table, and speaking with a forced decision that startled her hearers, "I must speak. I must know. Tell me--"

She faltered, and pressed her hands to her brow, shivering and turning ghastly pale again.

"Oh, my dear!" cried Mrs Barclay; "she's going to faint!"

"No, no," said Claire, in a weak voice. "Don't touch me. I must speak--I must know. Mr Barclay," she cried, picking up the jewels, "where did you get these diamonds?"

"These, my dear?" said the money-lender, taking them from her. "Not diamonds at all--paste."

"There!" cried Mrs Barclay triumphantly.

"But where--where did you get them? Pray, pray speak. It is agony, this suspense."

"Get them, my dear? Don't take it like that. Why, what's the matter?"

"She says--" began Mrs Barclay.

"They are Lady Teigne's jewels," cried Claire. "Tell me, how came you by them?"

"Bought 'em, my dear, of Fisherman d.i.c.k--Miggles, you know; him as your brother Morton went fishing with."

"Yes," cried Cora. "I remember now, he brought them to us. He said he dredged them up in his shrimp net off the end of the pier."

"That's what he told me too, I remember," said Barclay.