VINTAGE MYSTERIES - 70+ Stories in One Volume (Thriller Classics Series). Robert Barr. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Robert Barr
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 9788075832788
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that strike you as very extraordinary?'

      'No. I do not assert that he is a professional burglar, who would take all the precautions against the discovery that might have been expected from one of the craft. Indeed, the man's carelessness in going straight across the country to his brother's house, and leaving footsteps in the soft earth, easily traceable almost to the very boundary fence, shows he is incapable of any serious thought.'

      'Is John Haddon rich?'

      'He hasn't a penny.'

      'Did you go to the ball that night?'

      'Yes, I had promised to go.'

      'Was John Haddon there?'

      'Yes; but he appeared late. He should have been present at the opening, and his brother was seriously annoyed by his absence. When he did come he acted in a wild and reckless manner, which gave the guests the impression that he had been drinking. Both my niece and myself were disgusted with his actions.'

      'Do you think your niece suspects him?'

      'She certainly did not at first, and was indignant when I told her, coming home from the ball, that her jewels were undoubtedly in Steffenham House, even though they were not round her neck, but latterly I think her opinion has changed.'

      'To go back a moment. Did any of your servants see him prowling about the place?'

      'They all say they didn't, but I myself saw him, just before dusk, coming across the fields towards this house, and next morning we found the same footprints both going and coming. It seems to me the circumstantial evidence is rather strong.'

      'It's a pity that no one but yourself saw him. What more evidence are the authorities waiting for?'

      'They are waiting until he attempts to dispose of the jewels.'

      'You think, then, he has not done so up to date?'

      'I think he will never do so.'

      'Then why did he steal them?'

      'To prevent the marriage of my niece with Jonas Carter, of Sheffield, to whom she is betrothed. They were to be married early in the New Year.'

      'My lord, you amaze me. If Mr. Carter and Lady Alicia are engaged, why should the theft of the jewels interfere with the ceremony?'

      'Mr. Jonas Carter is a most estimable man, who, however, does not move in our sphere of life. He is connected with the steel or cutlery industry, and is a person of great wealth, rising upwards of a million, with a large estate in Derbyshire, and a house fronting Hyde Park, in London. He is a very strict business man, and both my niece and myself agree that he is also an eligible man. I myself am rather strict in matters of business, and I must admit that Mr. Carter showed a very generous spirit in arranging the preliminaries of the engagement with me. When Alicia's father died he had run through all the money he himself possessed or could borrow from his friends. Although a man of noble birth, I never liked him. He was married to my only sister. The Blair emeralds, as perhaps you know, descend down the female line. They, therefore, came to my niece from her mother. My poor sister had long been disillusioned before death released her from the titled scamp she had married, and she very wisely placed the emeralds in my custody to be held in trust for her daughter. They constitute my niece's only fortune, and would produce, if offered in London today, probably seventy-five or a hundred thousand pounds, although actually they are not worth so much. Mr. Jonas Carter very amiably consented to receive my niece with a dowry of only fifty thousand pounds, and that money I offered to advance, if I was allowed to retain the jewels as security. This was arranged between Mr. Carter and myself.'

      'But surely Mr. Carter does not refuse to carry out his engagement because the jewels have been stolen?'

      'He does. Why should he not?'

      'Then surely you will advance the fifty thousand necessary?'

      'I will not. Why should I?'

      'Well, it seems to me,' said I, with a slight laugh, 'the young man has very definitely checkmated both of you.'

      'He has, until I have laid him by the heels, which I am determined to do if he were the brother of twenty Lord Steffenhams.'

      'Please answer one more question. Are you determined to put the young man in prison, or would you be content with the return of the emeralds intact?'

      'Of course I should prefer to put him in prison and get the emeralds too, but if there's no choice in the matter, I must content myself with the necklace.'

      'Very well, my lord, I will undertake the case.'

      This conference had detained us in the study till after eleven, and then, as it was a clear, crisp December morning, I went out through the gardens into the park, that I might walk along the well-kept private road and meditate upon my course of action, or, rather, think over what had been said, because I could not map my route until I had heard the secret which the Lady Alicia promised to impart. As at present instructed, it seemed to me the best way to go direct to the young man, show him as effectively as I could the danger in which he stood, and, if possible, persuade him to deliver up the necklace to me. As I strolled along under the grand old leafless trees, I suddenly heard my name called impulsively two or three times, and turning round saw the Lady Alicia running toward me. Her cheeks were bright with Nature's rouge, and her eyes sparkled more dazzlingly than any emerald that ever tempted man to wickedness.

      'Oh, Monsieur Valmont, I have been waiting for you, and you escaped me. Have you seen my uncle?'

      'Yes, I have been with him since ten o'clock.'

      'Well?'

      'Your ladyship, that is exactly the word with which he accosted me.'

      'Ah, you see an additional likeness between my uncle and myself this morning, then? Has he told you about Mr. Carter?'

      'Yes.'

      'So now you understand how important it is that I should regain possession of my property?'

      'Yes,' I said with a sigh; 'the house near Hyde Park and the great estate in Derbyshire.'

      She clapped her hands with glee, eyes and feet dancing in unison, as she capered along gaily beside me; a sort of skippety-hop, skippety-hop, sideways, keeping pace with my more stately step, as if she were a little girl of six instead of a young woman of twenty.

      'Not only that!' she cried, 'but one million pounds to spend! Oh, Monsieur Valmont, you know Paris, and yet you do not seem to comprehend what that plethora of money means!'

      'Well, madame, I have seen Paris, and I have seen a good deal of the world, but I am not so certain you will secure the million to spend.'

      'What!' she cried, stopping short, that little wrinkle which betokened temper appearing on her brow. 'Do you think we won't get the emeralds then?'

      'Oh, I am sure we will get the emeralds. I, Valmont, pledge you my word. But if Mr. Jonas Carter before marriage calls a halt upon the ceremony until your uncle places fifty thousand pounds upon the table, I confess I am very pessimistic about your obtaining control of the million afterwards.'

      All her vivacity instantaneously returned.

      'Pooh!' she cried, dancing round in front of me, and standing there directly in my path, so that I came to a stand. 'Pooh!' she repeated, snapping her fingers, with an inimitable gesture of that lovely hand. 'Monsieur Valmont, I am disappointed in you. You are not nearly so nice as you were last evening. It is very uncomplimentary in you to intimate that when once I am married to Mr. Jonas I shall not wheedle from him all the money I want. Do not rest your eyes on the ground; look at me and answer!'

      I glanced up at her, and could not forbear laughing. The witchery of the wood was in that girl; yes, and a perceptible trace of the Gallic devil flickered in those enchanting eyes of hers. I could not help myself.

      'Ah, Madame la Marquise de Bellairs, how jauntily you would scatter despair in that susceptible Court of Louis!'

      'Ah, Monsieur Eugène de Valmont,' she cried, mimicking my tones,