The Paternoster Ruby Part 18

"Thank you," he now had the impudence to say suavely. "Forewarned is forearmed, you know."

"You get out of here, Burke," I said, without heat, eying him steadily.

"Do you mean," he asked quickly, "that I 'm not to have an opportunity to ascertain whether I left any of my possessions here?" I fancied that he was disconcerted.

"I mean that I have n't any time to waste on you," I replied, evenly.

"I 'm busy now; but I 'll take care of you when the time comes. If you want to go to any other part of the house, be quick about it."

Again his voice dropped.

"You intend to go with me--I see. I 'm not to be trusted. I 'll submit to no such indignity."

"Just as you choose."

He moved over to the door. There was no use questioning him further, because all his defences were up. But I watched him steadily--as I would have watched any other dangerous animal that I was not at liberty to crush.

At the door he paused and looked back; for the briefest instant his restless glance lingered upon an indefinable point up the stair-well.

So thereabouts lay the centre of interest, did it?

The door was open; he turned again to me.

"I'll go," he said, "and--"

"And you need not come back," I broke in curtly. "This house will not be unguarded for one second until the ruby is found."

I felt, rather than saw, that the blank eyes flashed venomously.

"You devil!" he hissed, slipping hastily through the narrow aperture--"you devil!"

Next instant he was gone. And I drew a great breath of relief.

When I turned round Miss Cooper was advancing from the library, her eyes bright with suppressed excitement.

"What a horrid creature!" exclaimed she. "I heard all, Mr. Swift; no wonder Uncle Alfred despises the man."

I looked sharply at her: what earthly reason should Alfred Fluette have for despising Felix Page's private secretary? But of this later. If I was not much mistaken, Miss Cooper held in her hand the cause of her present pleased agitation.

"What have you discovered?"

"This." She handed me a small slip of paper. "I found it inside the lining of the little leather box."

"A cipher!" I cried, sharing some of her excitement.

The bit of paper, perhaps three inches long by an inch wide, was of almost parchment-like fineness and bore a number of peculiar characters written in black ink. At the first glance it suggested a safe combination; but after a minute's intent examination, during which the girl could scarcely restrain her eager impatience, I was obliged to forego that idea.

"Good for you!" was my admiring tribute. The color heightened in her cheeks. "I wonder, now, since you were keen enough to find it, whether you can make anything of it? Honestly--do you know--when I examined that box I never thought to look under the lining."

With her head on one side, she stared regretfully at the bit of paper.

"It's Greek to me," she said.

"To me, too. I 'd give a good deal to know what those hieroglyphs mean."

She clapped her hands with sudden delight.

"My!" she exclaimed, "it's just like a story! Isn't this what you call a cryptograph? It tells where a hidden treasure is, does it not?"

Glancing at her beautiful, animated countenance, I answered truthfully, "Yes"; but added, "It at least points me to a treasure that is unattainable."

For an instant she was puzzled, then she bent suddenly over the cipher and asked no more questions.

We had gone in to the big library table, where, with heads pleasantly close together, we studied in silence the seemingly meaningless characters. But after some minutes devoted to this exercise, we were constrained to give it up as hopeless. This is what the paper bore:

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cipher]

"I 'm afraid I shall prove to be a very indifferent a.s.sistant," she lamented, with a rueful little laugh. "I did n't deserve your commendation even for finding the cipher, because, while I was examining the box I was too intent on listening to you and that dreadful Burke creature to heed what I was doing. I felt the paper crackle, and then saw a corner of it through one of the rents in the faded blue satin."

"Never mind now. Maybe we shall understand it later. Some ciphers, you know, are to be read only in connection with something else; I think this is such a one. Let's put it away and take up something that I know you can help me with.

"That faded card"--I pointed to it lying upon the table, and noted that her face instantly grew grave--"why did you start so when you first looked at it--just as we heard Burke on the porch?"

She regarded me steadily.

"Mr. Swift, that is my aunt's handwriting--her name."

"Do you mean Mrs. Fluette?" I was in truth unprepared for this blunt announcement.

"Yes," she replied simply.

I believe the first effect of this disclosure was no more than an uneasy, apprehensive feeling; but in a flash the possibilities entailed began to occur to me, and I was left groping for words.

During the silence that followed I vainly tried to arrange my thoughts; the color slowly faded from Miss Cooper's face, and by and by she averted it from mine. I knew that our minds were working in parallel currents; I knew without looking at her that she was anxious and trembling.

At last I secured a grip upon myself, and I addressed her with decision.

"You believe I will do what is right, do you not?"

"Yes," she murmured, without looking up.

"Then I fear that our pact is to be short-lived, after all. This cursed tragedy is twining its tentacles nearer home than either of us dreamt of."

What, in the bitterness of my own reflections, was I allowing myself to say! I silently cursed myself for a blundering fool. The girl's gray face, the pinched look of it, frightened me. I started from my chair.

"Miss Cooper!"

For her head had dropped forward upon one curved arm, and she was shaken by a storm of tears.