Page:Once a Week Jun to Dec 1864.pdf/490

 15, 1864.] of three rows of valuable table diamonds, whilst in the centre of either glittered a spray of heartsease, artistically formed of smaller diamonds. The bracelets were rendered more precious to their possessors by the fact of their having been in the De V family for three generations. They now by right belonged to the dowager baronne, but she had insisted on giving them to her son for his bride, who, therefore, wore them on such occasions as the one we are describing.

The Baron and Baronne de V stepped into their carriage, and in a few minutes were entering their box at the opera. The house was already full, although it still wanted fifteen minutes to the time announced for the overture to begin. At length the members of the orchestra took their places, and the peculiar, subdued sound of tuning stringed instruments was heard. Still the royal box was empty, and all eyes were turned towards it in eager expectation. In another moment applause burst from the pit and gallery and the entire house, as Louis Philippe and Queen Marie Amélie, at tended by a large suite of officers and ladies and gentlemen of the court, appeared. The king and queen bowed graciously in return for the homage paid them, and then took their seats, at which the rest of the company did the same, and the overture commenced.

The queen looked unusually happy, and seemed to take a lively interest in all around her. She not only gazed at the stage, but the boxes also came in for a share of her penetrating observation.

Suddenly she bent slightly forward and looked in the direction of the box that contained the lovely young Baronne de V. The latter was leaning forward, her right hand raised, a finger of which touched one of her dimpled cheeks, deeply interested in the fate of “Don Giovanni,” and quite absorbed in the beautiful music.

Her husband had noticed the queen’s gesture, and was aware that she had observed his wife, and when the queen turned away he laughingly told her of it.

“Nonsense,” cried the bride, “don’t fancy such absurdities.”

The truth of what her husband had said, however, soon forced itself on her mind, for at that moment an officer, dressed in the same uniform as those attending the royal party, drew back the curtain behind their box, and stepping forward, said, “Pardon, madame, but her majesty’s admiration and curiosity has been so roused by the sight of the beautiful bracelets you wear, that she has commissioned me to come and request you to spare me one for a few moments for her closer inspection.” The pretty baronne blushed, looked up to her husband for his approval, then unclasped one of the bracelets and handed it to the officer, feeling not a little flattered at the attention and distinction the queen had conferred on her.

The last act of the opera began, and at length the last scene ended, yet the bracelet was not returned. Its owners thought the officer had doubtless forgotten it, and the baron said he would go and make inquiries concerning it. He did so, and in a few moments returned, though without the bracelet.

“Adèle,” said he to his wife, “it is very strange, but not seeing the officer who took your bracelet, I asked one of the others, who has been in the royal box the whole evening, and he says your bracelet was neither sent for nor fetched.”

The baronne looked aghast. “François,” she said, “that man must have been an impostor. He was no officer, but an affreux thief.”

The baron smiled as his little wife jumped so speedily at such a conclusion, and persisted that the bracelet was safe and had really been sent for by the queen, and that the officer whom he had consulted was misinformed.

But woman’s penetration had guessed rightly, as the morrow proved.

As the bracelet was not forthcoming the next morning, M. de V spoke to the Chief Inspector of the police on the subject, who quite coincided with madame’s opinion as to the valuable ornament having been artfully stolen. The baron was greatly annoyed, and ordered the inspector to advertise for it in every direction, offering a reward of 3000 francs to the person who should restore it. The inspector promised to do all in his power towards the recovery of the bracelet, as well for the sake of society at large as the satisfaction of his employers.

But three months passed away—350 francs had been spent in advertising—and still the missing bracelet was not found.

It was growing dusk one evening in May, when a servant informed Madame de V that monsieur the Inspector wished to speak to her or monsieur the Baron. As the latter was out, Madame de V went downstairs to speak to the inspector, with whom she had had many previous interviews on the subject of the diamond bracelet. As she entered the room he bowed in the respectful manner peculiar to him. “I believe I have some good news for madame, this evening,” he said. His voice was rather singular, somewhat resembling a boy’s when changing. Madame de V had often remarked this peculiarity before, so it did not strike her that evening. “The detectives,”