The Sins of Severac Bablon Part 10

A moment more of silence, then:

"Sir Leopold pa.s.sed it to me," came Salome Hohsmann's frightened voice.

Rohscheimer stared at Jesson. Jesson turned and stared at Miss Hohsmann.

"You are mistaken," he replied slowly. "I have not had the card in my hand!"

Miss Hohsmann's fine, dark eyes grew round in wonder.

"But, Sir Leopold!" she cried. "I _took_ it from your hand!"

Jesson's face was a study in perplexity.

"I can only say," contributed Sheard, who sat upon the other side of the girl, "that I saw Miss Hohsmann looking at the card and I asked to be allowed to examine it. I then pa.s.sed it on to Mrs. Lacey. I may add"--smiling--"that it does not emanate from the _Gleaner_ office, and is in no way official!"

"Mrs. Lacey pa.s.sed it along to me," came Oppner's parched voice.

"But," Sir Leopold's incisive tones cut in upon the bewildering conversation, "Miss Hohsmann is in error in supposing that she received the card from me. I have not handled it--neither, I believe, has Lady Vignoles?" He turned to the latter.

She shook her head.

"No, sir," she said transatlantically, "I saw Mr. Rohscheimer take it from Mary" (Lady Mary Evershed).

"I mean to say, Sheila"--Lord Vignoles leant forward in his chair and looked along to his wife--"I mean to say, _I_ had it from Miss Charlotte Hohsmann, on my left."

Rohscheimer's protruding eyes looked from face to face. Wonder was written upon every one.

"Where the----" Mrs. Rohscheimer coughed.

The great financier sat down. Let us conclude his sentence for him:

_Where had the ominous "second notice" come from?_

Amid a thrilling silence, the guests sought, each in his or her own fashion, for the solution to this truly amazing conundrum. The order may be seen from a glance at the foregoing list of guests. It has only to be remembered that they were seated around a large oval table and their relative positions become apparent.

"It appears to me," said Sir Leopold Jesson, "that the mystery has its root here. Miss Hohsmann is under the impression that I handed the card to her. I did not do so. Miss Hohsmann, as well as myself, has been victimised by this common enemy, so that"--he smiled dryly--"we cannot suspect her, and you cannot suspect me, of complicity. Was there any servant in the room at the time?"

A brief inquiry served to show that there had been no servant on that side of the room at the time.

"Did you pick it up from the table, dear," cried Mrs. Hohsmann, "or actually take it from--someone's hand?"

Amid a tense silence the girl replied:

"From--someone's hand!"

CHAPTER VI

THE SHADOW OF SeVERAC BABLON

The mystery of personality is one which eludes research along the most scientific lines. It is a species of animal magnetism as yet uncla.s.sified. Personality is not confined to the individual: it clings to his picture, his garments, his writing; it has the persistency of a civet perfume.

From this slip of cardboard lying upon Rohscheimer's famous oval table emanated rays--unseen, but cogent. The magnetic words "Severac Bablon"

seemed to glow upon the walls, as of old those other words had glowed upon a Babylonian wall.

There were those present to whom the line "Who steals my purse steals trash" appealed, as the silliest ever written. And it was at the purses of these that the blow would be struck--_id est_, at the most vital and fonder part of their beings.

"That card"--Julius Rohscheimer moistened his lips--"can't have dropped from the ceiling!"

But he looked upward as he spoke; and it was evident that he credited Severac Bablon with the powers of an Indian fakir.

"It would appear," said Antony Elschild, "that a phantom hand appeared in our midst!"

The incident was eerie; a thousand times more so in that it was a.s.sociated with Severac Bablon. Rohscheimer gave orders that the outer door was on no account to be opened, until the house had been thoroughly searched. He himself headed the search party--whilst Mrs. Rohscheimer remained with the guests.

All search proving futile, Rohscheimer returned and learnt that a new discovery had been made. He was met outside the dining-room door by Baron Hague.

"Rohscheimer!" cried the latter, "my name on that card, it is underlined in red ink!"

Rohscheimer's rejoinder was dramatic.

"The diamonds!" he whispered.

Indeed, this latest discovery was significant. Baron Hague had brought with him, for Rohscheimer's examination, a packet of rough diamonds.

Rohscheimer had established his fortunes in South Africa; and, be it whispered, there were points of contact between his own early history and the history of the packet of diamonds which Hague carried to-night.

In both records there were I.D.B. chapters.

The two men stared at each other--and sometimes glanced into the shadows of the corridor.

"He must be in league with the devil," continued Rohscheimer, "if he has got to know about those stones! But it certainly looks as though----"

"Where can I hide them from _him_--from this man who I hear cannot be kept out of anywhere?"

"Hague," said Rohscheimer, shakily, "you'd be safer at your hotel than here. He's held people up in my house once before!"

As may be divined, Rohscheimer's chiefest fear was that _his_ name, _his_ house, should be a.s.sociated with another mysterious outrage. He knew Baron Hague to have about his person stones worth a small fortune, and he was all anxiety--first, to save them from Severac Bablon, the common enemy; second, if Baron Hague _must_ be robbed, to arrange that he be robbed somewhere else!

"I have not ordered my gar until twelve o'clock," said the Baron.

"Mine can be got ready in----"

"I won't wait! Gall me a gab!"

That proposal fell into line with Rohscheimer's personal views, and he wasted not a moment in making the necessary arrangements.

The library door opening, and Adeler, his private secretary, appearing, with a book under his arm, Mr. Rohscheimer called to him: