Royal Amethyst/Chapter 17

of Princess Amirel's restraining arm, I turned my back on the rest of them, walked over to the window, and looked out into the park. I had no wish to witness more of the meeting between the lovers, and I wanted to regain my composure before the next business.

I turned around presently. With his hand still holding the princess's, Sir Desmond was crossing the room to Nancy Flynn. I looked him over as he smilingly shook hands with her. He was a tall, distinguished man, patrician to the finger tips, with a rather handsome face. He was much bronzed, and looked rather spare. His close-cropped head and well brushed mustache suggested the soldier, and there was a quickness and precision in his movements which denoted the man of action.

From Nancy Sir Desmond turned to me with a questioning look. The princess drew him in my direction.

“Desmond,” she said, “this is Mr. Hanmer, of whom I have already told you. He has protected us from annoyance and been most kind to us in every way.”

He looked me up and down. I saw the expression of his face change. He responded to my own somewhat curt bow with a mere nod, and turned away. He looked toward the other end of the room, where the Prince of Amavia and Count Hofberg stood watching him.

“Is it by your desire that your brother and his friend are here?” he asked the princess. “It seemed to me that my entrance interrupted some sort of scene.”

“Oh!” she said. “How am I to tell you everything? It is all so confusing! Mr. Hanmer, will you tell Sir Desmond Adare?”

“If I may be permitted,” began the count, “I would suggest—”

“Silence, sir!” said Sir Desmond. He turned to me. “Be good enough to tell me about it, Mr. Hanmer.” he said.

I resented his tone and the way he looked at me, but I told all that had happened from the day on which the princess had deposited the jewels in the safe until the moment of his arrival. He never took his eyes from my face all the time I was speaking.

“Finally,” I concluded, “at the moment of your arrival, the Graf von Hofberg accused me of stealing the jewels. I think you are now in full possession of the facts. I have told all that I know.”

He looked around him—he had seated himself at the head of the table, with the princess on his right—with a judicial air.

“I am a magistrate,” he said. “I think I shall hear all that is to be said on this point. So, Count Hofberg, you accuse Mr. Hanmer of stealing these jewels—on what grounds?”

The count hesitated for a second or two, and seemed to be lost in thought. At last he lifted his head and looked at Sir Desmond.

“If I speak, Sir Desmond Adare,” he said, “it is because I desire to serve the Princess Amirel and to recover the amethyst, one of the most famous heirlooms of her house. I accuse that man, Mr. Meredith Cosmo Gordon Hanmer, of stealing the amethyst and the princess's jewels—yes, Mr. Hanmer—”

The princess interrupted the speaker with an exclamation of indignant contempt.

“Desmond, I appeal to you to put an end to this,” she said warmly. “There is no part of Mr. Hanmer's career with which I am not already acquainted from his own lips. He has told me everything, and I have all the more trust in him because of his confidence in me.”

She meant well, poor princess, but it was an unfortunate speech. I saw a look of distaste creep over Sir Desmond's face, and the count could scarcely repress a smile of triumph.

“I think I must hear the Graf von Hofberg,” Sir Desmond said rather icily. “Mr. Hanmer will have a right to reply; but it would give me much relief if you and Miss St. Clair would retire.”

The princess settled herself in her chair and gave him a glance which had defiance in it.

“I shall not retire,” she said. “It is my property that is concerned. I shall hear everything, and perhaps I shall have something to say myself.”

Sir Desmond bit his lip and motioned the count to proceed.

“I have no wish to wound the feelings of either the princess or her friend Mr. Hanmer,” continued Hofberg; “but I shall give you the truth. Mr. Hanmer is a cashiered officer of the British army, and has a peculiarly bad record. He was dismissed from the service a few years ago for gambling and intoxication. Since then he has fallen so low that on the day when he first met the Princess Amirel he was turned out of his lodgings because he could not pay a trifling sum due his landlady.”

The princess's face was a study of conflicting emotions—indignation, contempt, anger, surprise.

“This is shameful—it is vile!” she said. “Desmond, you permit this?”

“One must occasionally listen to unpleasant things against one's will,” he said, with what seemed to me some significance of meaning. “The question which remains is for Mr. Hanmer to answer.”

He turned to me. I knew from the expression of his face that Sir Desmond Adare was not pleased to find me in his house.

“Count Hofberg,” I said carelessly, “has given the facts of my career quite correctly. I was cashiered from the army because I was a gambler and a drunkard. I was almost penniless when I undertook this service on behalf of the princess. The princess knew all these things very soon after we set out for Ireland, and Miss St. Clair knew them before.”

Sir Desmond's face flushed a little. He turned to the count.

“Proceed,” he said. “You have established your charges of a bad record against Mr. Hanmer, but not your more serious charge that he has stolen the princess's jewels.”

“I will now deal with that,” said the count. “According to the princess and Mr. Hanmer himself, he, the princess, and the butler were the only persons who knew where the jewels were. Mr. Hanmer knew all the ways of the house—that the strong room was guarded by a bulldog and by the butler. Last night the bulldog dies from poison; this morning the butler is found suffering from some powerful narcotic, and the safe rifled of its contents. Upon whom should the suspicion rest but upon the needy adventurer? It is a disgrace to the house of Amavia that its eldest daughter should have placed herself under the protection of a disgraced man, a drunkard and a gambler. It would be more disgraceful still if he were permitted to go unpunished. For three weeks the Princess Amirel has made friends of unfit persons—a cashiered officer, who was to abuse her confidence—”

“Desmond,” exclaimed the princess, “I ask you once more—are you going to allow me to be thus insulted?”

Sir Desmond Adare's face had assumed a very unpleasant expression. He spoke with evident effort.

“I permit no insult to you, princess,” he said; “but this man”—he pointed to me—“admits the truth of all that the count has said.”

“This man does not admit the truth of what the count says respecting the robbery, Sir Desmond Adare,” I remarked.

He looked from me to the count.

“What do you want?” he said.

“The arrest of Hanmer,” answered Hofberg, promptly enough. “We have wired to London for a man from Scotland Yard, and we wish Hanmer's detention until we can give him in charge.”

“You seem to overestimate your powers,” said Sir Desmond with a sneer. “The jewels are the property of the princess.”

“The Amavia amethyst is the joint property of the reigning sovereign and the eldest daughter of the house,” rejoined the count. “We ask you once more to summon a police official and to give this man in charge.”

“If you do, Desmond,” said the princess, “I shall give the Graf von Hofberg in charge at the same time. He is the real thief!”

Sir Desmond glanced from her to the count.

“What grounds have you for believing this man to be dishonest?” he inquired. “He has confessed to a bad record, but that does not make him a thief.”

“There is a man outside,” said the count quietly, “who might tell you something. Is it your pleasure to admit him?”

Sir Desmond nodded, half sulkily. He watched the figure of Mr. Samuel Jefferson as it sidled into the room.

“Who is this person?” Sir Desmond inquired. “Some friend of yours, Count Hofberg?”

“This man is Mr. Jefferson, a private inquiry agent,” replied the count. “He was a private soldier in the regiment in which Mr. Hanmer served, and acted as his orderly. He can give you full proof of Mr. Hanmer's record.”

“It is unnecessary. Let the man leave the room.”

“Pardon me—you have asked me what grounds I have for believing Mr. Hanmer dishonest. Permit me to ask Jefferson a few questions.”

Sir Desmond appeared to be growing uneasy. He looked at me, at the count, and at Jefferson.

“I have no objection to all the world hearing anything that this man may say concerning me,” I said. “Let him speak!”

“Very well, then,” said Sir Desmond.

The count motioned Jefferson to draw nearer the table.

“You knew Mr. Hanmer intimately for some time?” he said.

“For many years, sir. I was his orderly for two years,” replied Jefferson.

“His record was a bad one, was it not?”

Sir Desmond interposed with some show of anger.

“Stop!” he said. “To begin with, I will have no leading questions. To end with, I wish to hear no more about Mr. Hanmer's military record.”

“I bow to your ruling,” said the count. He turned to Jefferson again. “Was there ever any question of Mr. Hanmer's honesty during the time when you acted as his orderly?” he asked.

Jefferson's face assumed a pained expression.

“I regret to say there was, sir, toward the end of Mr. Hanmer's unfortunate career.”

Again Sir Desmond interposed.

“Listen, my man!” he said. “Keep your opinions to yourself—give me the facts.”

“The facts are that Mr. Hanmer was placed under arrest for falsifying the mess room accounts and appropriating money.”

“Oh!” said Sir Desmond. “Well, what happened?”

“He was tried by court-martial, sir, and acquitted.”

“Oh, he was acquitted, was he?” Sir Desmond's anger burst forth. “That will do,” he said. “Leave the room, and the house! Now, count,” he continued, “I have heard all that you have to say, and I refuse to act with you. The evidence of the man you have brought here is worth nothing. He suggests that Mr. Hanmer was guilty of a crime of which his brother officers found him innocent.”

“If I may mention the fact,” I said, “the verdict of the court-martial was one of honorable acquittal, as the records show.”

“Court-martials may make mistakes,” said the count. “The general feeling—”

Sir Desmond rose from his chair.

“That will do,” he said. “I have nothing more to say to you, nor to your master. Yes—there is one thing I will say. Within a day or two the princess will be my wife. I know how you, prince, who should have protected her, have exposed her to insult, and how you, Graf von Hofberg, have persecuted her with your unwelcome attentions. Now let me warn you against any attempt at interference. As for this robbery, I will take it in hand myself. I want no further communication with either of you, and I now tell you to leave my house!”

In another moment prince and count were following Dennis down the corridor. That scene was over. The princess sprang forward with a cry of joy.

“Desmond!” she exclaimed. “That was splendid of you! Now we shall have no more annoyance. I don't seem to care about the jewels now. Let them go, if only we can have no more anxiety and trouble!”

“I am afraid we can scarcely relinquish such valuable property so light-heartedly,” he said; “but we will discuss that at our leisure. At present I wish to talk with Mr. Hanmer.”

“Ah, yes, to thank him for his kindness!” she said with a brilliant smile.

“Mr. Hanmer shall certainly be requited,” he replied with a bow. “There—will you and Miss St. Clair run away and let us talk?”

He opened a door as he spoke. The princess and Nancy passed out. He closed the door and turned to me. For a moment he regarded me steadily.

“There are certain things I must say to you, Mr. Hanmer,” he said after a brief silence. “I am afraid they may not be pleasant.”

“It is a matter of absolute indifference to me whether they are pleasant or not,” I replied.

He stared at me.

“You take matters very coolly,” he said.

“It's the best way,” I answered.

“I have heard of you,” he said. “I did not know, when I received the princess's letters at Southampton yesterday, that you were the man whose memory was somewhat strong at Ahmednagar.”

“Indeed!” I said. “But you know it now.”

“Unfortunately I do. This is not pleasant, Mr. Hanmer,” he said. “I desire to be just, but frankly—do you consider yourself a fitting person to be here in the capacity in which I find you?”

“If one looks at it from the world's standpoint, no,” I answered. “If I regard it from my own, yes.”

“I suppose you regard yourself as a reformed character?” he said.

“I am certainly not going to discuss myself with you,” I replied.

He stiffened at that.

“Very well,” he said; “but permit me to remind you—you are a disgraced man, and you are in this house under circumstances which reflect discredit upon you. If you had retained some of the feelings of an officer and a gentleman, you would never have permitted the princess to be lured into a false position. She is very innocent, and—”

I gave no further heed to him at that moment, for something drew my attention. At the end of the room was a door that opened into the great drawing-room. Between it and the center of the room stood a screen. As I stood lounging against the mantelpiece, I saw something in one of the mirrors which made me forget that Sir Desmond Adare was lecturing me. That something was the stealthy opening of the drawing-room door, the entrance of the princess, and her advance on tiptoe to the screen, behind which she carefully hid herself. I gave my attention to Sir Desmond again.

“As for Miss St. Clair, who knew your record, and yet introduced you to the princess,” he was saying, “I cannot understand it.”

“Ah!” I said. “Of course you can't. You see, Nancy is a child of the people. She has a warm heart and believes in her friends, even when they happen to be converted drunkards and gamblers. I dare say that Nancy honestly believed that she and I might serve as watchdogs of humbler sort until the high-bred hound came along.”

That hit him just where I meant it to.

“I have no wish to continue this scene, Mr. Hanmer,” he said. “Your services are dispensed with, and your presence in my house is distasteful to me. There is one matter to which I will attend at once, and we will then consider this interview at an end.”

He walked over to a desk in one of the windows, and when he turned around he held a check in his hand.

“I trust you will find this sufficient payment for your services,” he said, and held the paper out to me.

“Pay your servants their wages, Sir Desmond Adare,” I said. “When I am one of them, I will ask for my due.”

Then he lost his temper.

“By God!” he said. “Do you know that your liberty is in my hands? I can hand you over to the police within the hour!”

“You may do so within the minute, if you like,” I retorted. “I think I should prefer that to your insolence.”

He stared at me. His hand sought for the bell rope and clutched it.

“You shall leave this house at once!” he said.

But before he could pull the bell there was a sound, and I turned to see Princess Amirel step from behind the screen.

“No!” she said. “Or, if he goes, I go! Oh, Desmond, how could you—how could you? I have told you what faithful friends these have been to me—how they have thought and planned for me—and you would turn them away like dogs! It is an insult to me that you should insult my friends, and—and”—her voice grew faint and troubled as she put out one hand and laid something on the table—“that is your ring, Desmond,” she said.

Turning her back upon us, she walked slowly and steadily out of the room.

We both stood staring at the glittering thing lying on the table between us. I looked up at him at last. His face was white to the lips, and the sweat stood in beads on his forehead. He gazed at me as if some heavy blow had half stunned him. With a sharp cry I seized him by the arm.

“Quick, man!” I said. “Go to her at once—quick!”

I dragged him across the room to the door through which she had disappeared. As I tore it open, I saw her lying among the cushions of a sofa, and I heard her sob. Then I pushed him inside, closed the door on him, and went away.