The Weight of the Crown

by Fred M. White

  CHAPTER XI

  IN THE GARDEN

  Jessie slipped out into the garden and along to the back of the terrace.The absurd nonsense of the motor-car was still going on in the lane. Itwas late now, and no chance of a crowd gathering there. The HonourableGeorge clamoured for Jessie's company, and asked where she had been. Butshe smilingly shook her head, and declared that she was not ready; and,besides, there were many before her.

  "I shall be back again practically in a quarter of an hour," she said."I can't stir till then."

  So far everything promised well. Jessie hurried back to the place whereshe had left Varney. He was waiting there with half a sheet of notepaper in his hand.

  "There is the permit," he said. "You have only to show it to anybody inauthority and there will be no more difficulty. Hullo! what is all thisabout?"

  There was a disturbance in the hall--the figure of a French maid talkingvolubly in two languages at once; behind her a footman, accompanied by aman who was unmistakably a plain-clothes detective, and behind him thefigure of a policeman, his helmet towering above the heads of theguests.

  "Somebody asking for the Countess Saens," a guest replied to a questionof Varney's. "As far as I can gather, there has been a burglary at thehouse of the countess, and her maid seems to know something about it.But we shall know presently. Here comes the countess."

  The Countess Saens came smilingly into the hall, a strikingly handsomefigure in yellow satin. Jessie did not fail to notice her dark, piercingeyes.

  "Who is she?" she asked Varney in a whisper. "Did you ever see suchblack eyes?"

  "Don't know," the doctor replied. "Sort of comet of a season. Mysteriousantecedents, and all that, but possesses plenty of money, gives the mostsplendid entertainments, and goes everywhere. I understand that she isthe morganatic wife of one of the Russian grand dukes."

  At any rate, the woman looked a lady to her finger tips, as Jessie wasbound to admit. She came with an easy smile into the little group, andimmediately her magnetic presence seemed to rivet all attention. Thefrightened maid ceased to scold in her polyglot way and grew coherent.

  "Now let us get to the bottom of this business," the countess saidgaily. "There has been a burglary at my house. Where did it take place,and what has been removed from the premises?"

  "It was in your room, madame," the maid said--"in your dressing-room. Iwas going up to put everything right for the night and I saw the thiefthere."

  "Would you recognize him again, Annette?" the countess asked.

  "Pardon me, but it was not a man; it was a woman. And she had opened thedrawers of your dressing table--she had papers in her hands. I came uponher suddenly, and she heard me. Then she caught me by the throat andhalf strangled me. Before I could recover my senses she had fled downthe stairs and out of the house. The hall porter took her for a friendof yours, and did not stop her. Then I suppose that my feelings overcameme, and----"

  "And you went off in hysterics," the countess said with a contemptuoussmile. "So long as you did not lose the papers----"

  "But, madame, the papers are gone! The second drawer on the left-handside is empty."

  Jessie saw the dark eyes blaze and the stern face of the countessstiffen with fury. It was only for a moment, and then the face smiledonce more. But that flashing insight was a revelation to Jessie.

  "I hope you will be able to recognize the woman again," the countesssaid. "Shall you? Speak, you idiot!"

  For the maid's gaze had suddenly become riveted on Jessie. The sight ofher face seemed to fascinate the little Frenchwoman. It was some minutesbefore she found words to express her thoughts.

  "But behind," she said, pointing a forefinger at Jessie as if she hadbeen some striking picture. "Behind, she is there. Not dressed likethat, but in plain black; but she stole those papers. I can feel thetouch of her fingers on my throat at this moment. There is the culprit,_voila_!"

  "Oh, this is ridiculous!" the countess cried. "How long since this hashappened?"

  "It is but twenty minutes ago," Annette said. "Not more than half anhour, and behold the thief----"

  "Behold the congenital idiot," the countess laughed. "Miss Galloway hasnot been out of my sight save for a few minutes for the last hour. Letthe police find out what they can, and take that poor creature home andput ice on her head.... Perhaps I had better go along. It is a perfectnuisance, but those papers were important. Will one of you call mycarriage?"

  The countess departed presently, smiling gaily. But Jessie had notforgotten that flashing eye and the expression on her features. Sheturned eagerly to Varney.

  "Very strange, is it not?" she asked. "Can you see what it all means?"

  "I can see perfectly well," Varney said coldly. "And I more or less holdthe key to the situation. Let us assume for the moment that the countessis a spy and an intriguer. She has certain documents that somebody elsebadly wants. Somebody else succeeds in getting those papers by force."

  "But why did the maid, Annette, pitch upon me?" Jessie asked.

  "Because you were the image of the thief," Varney whispered. "Only shewas dressed in black. The maid was not dreaming; she had more wits abouther than we imagine. Unless I am greatly mistaken, the thief who stolethose papers was no one else than Vera Galloway."

  The logic was so forcible and striking that Jessie could only standsilent before it. The French maid had given Varney an important clue,though the others had been blind to it. And Vera had not disguised atthe beginning of the adventure that she was engaged upon a desperateerrand for the sake of the man she loved, or, at any rate, for one whowas very dear to her. It had been a bold and daring thing to do, andJessie's admiration was moved. She hoped from the bottom of her heartthat Vera had the papers.

  "You will know before very long," Varney said, as if reading herthoughts, "whether Vera Galloway has been successful or not. There is noquestion whatever in my mind that Vera was the culprit. I will give youa hint as to why she has acted in this way presently. Get a thick blackwrap of some kind and conceal it as closely as possible. When you aregoing through the streets of London you must have something over yourhead."

  "If I only knew where to put my hand on a wrap of that description!"Jessie said helplessly.

  "Time is short, and bold measures are necessary," Varney said coolly."There are heaps of wraps in the vestibule, and I should take the firstthat came to hand. If the owner wants it in the meantime it will beassumed that it has been taken by mistake."

  Jessie hesitated no longer. She chose a thick black cloak and hoodarrangement that folded into very little space, and then she squeezed itunder her arm. Then she strolled out into the garden. It was very stilland warm. London was growing quiet, so that the shrieks of the latenewsboys with the evening scare could be distinctly heard there. Varneylaid his hand on Jessie's arm. He had grown very grave and impressive.The yelling newsboys were growing gradually nearer.

  "Listen, and tell me what they are saying," Varney whispered.

  Impressed by the sudden gravity of her companion's manner, Jessie gaveall her ears to the call.

  "Late Special! Startling case at the War Office! Suicide of CaptainLancing, and flight of Mr. Charles Maxwell! Disappearance of officialdocuments! Special!"

  "I hear," Jessie said; "but I am afraid that I don't understand quite."

  "Well, there has been a scandal at the War Office. One or two officialsthere have been accused of selling information to foreign Governments. Iheard rumours especially with regard to Asturian affairs. Late to-nightCaptain Lancing shot himself in the smoking-room of his club. They tookhim to Charing Cross, and as I happened to look into the club a littlelater I followed on to the hospital to see what I could do. But I wastoo late, for the poor fellow was dead. Now do you see how it was that Icame to see Vera Galloway?"

  Jessie nodded; she did not quite understand the problem yet. What hadthis War Office business to do with Vera Galloway and her dangerous anddesperate enterprise? She looked inquiringly at her companion.

 
"We had better get along," he said. "I see Pongo is waiting for you.Tuck that wrap a little closer under your arm so that it may not beseen. And as soon as you get back come to me and let me know exactlywhat has happened. I ought to be ashamed of myself. I ought to lay allthe facts of this case before my charming hostess; but there are eventshere beyond the usual society tenets. My dear child, don't you know whothe Charles Maxwell is whose name those boys are yelling? Does not thename seem familiar to you? Come, you are quick as a rule."

  "Oh, yes," Jessie gasped. "That was the name that Prince Mazaroffmentioned. Dr. Varney, it is the man to whom Vera Galloway is engaged,or practically engaged. What a dreadful business altogether."

  "Yes," Varney said curtly, "the plot is thickening. Now for themotor-car."