The Five Knots

by Fred M. White

  *CHAPTER XVII*

  *THE DIAMOND MOTH*

  "But you couldn't identify it," Wilfrid said, speaking as coolly as hecould. "You don't mean to tell me that it was the same hand? Youcouldn't swear to it?"

  "Perhaps not," Beatrice admitted. "But to all practical purposes it wasthe same hand, though the arm was hidden in a black sleeve and thewhitest of cuffs. But you can imagine how the incident disturbed me. Ipressed forward as eagerly as I could, but at that moment somebody hadfinished singing on the stage and there was a rush of men into therefreshment-room, so that I was prevented from pursuing myinvestigations. But I am frightened, Wilfrid. The thing seems to havetaken my courage out of me. I wish you would try to find out if thereis a man here like the one I have described."

  Wilfrid muttered something in the way of a promise, though he knew thathe had not very far to go to find the man that Beatrice spoke of. Thenthere was a tramping of feet overhead, the orchestra was playing theaudience out of the theatre, and already an army of sweepers andcleaners had taken possession of it. There was a swift scattering ofguests, and then, as if by magic, the stage was transformed into a hugesupper-room and the guests were being ushered in by the stewards.

  "Let me take you in," Wilfrid pleaded. "That is, of course, if you haveno other partner."

  Beatrice made no demur; indeed, she was thankful to have Wilfrid by herside. Already most of the guests had assembled on the stage. There werescores of little tables, flower-decked and shaded with pink lamps, whichformed an exceedingly pretty picture. Towards one side, under a box,Wilfrid could see a table still unoccupied, and to this he piloted hiscompanion.

  "This is a slice of luck," he said. "Let us hope we can have this toourselves so that we may have a long, cosy chat that will disperse allyour fears. A glass of champagne will make a different girl of you."

  A waiter bustled up to the table and Wilfrid gave his orders. A momentlater and two guests came across the stage towards the table. One was atall woman whom Wilfrid recognized at a glance as a well-known actress,the other was no less a person than the little yellow man in eveningdress who had so startled Russell earlier in the evening. All the colourleft Beatrice's face. She grasped her companion's arm helplessly.

  "They are coming here," she whispered. "Oh, I am sure they are cominghere. What shall we do?"

  "Courage," Wilfrid said coolly. "We can't prevent them from sitting atthe same table, seeing that they are the guests of the management aswell as ourselves. So that is the man you were speaking about? Helooks harmless enough. Don't be silly, Beatrice. Try to behave as ifnothing had happened."

  The girl recovered herself with a powerful effort. She even smiled asthe handsome actress made a half-apology for intruding at the table.

  "I think we know one another," she said. "Of course we do. I recollectsome friends bringing me to your delightful place, Maldon Grange. Youare Miss Galloway?"

  "You are Miss Marcombe," Beatrice said a little coldly. "I recollectyou now."

  "That's all right," the actress laughed. "Let me introduce my friend,Mr. Uzali. Mr. Uzali calls himself a Borneo chief or something of thatkind, though how he manages to look after his duties there and spend sixmonths of the year in England is beyond my comprehension. I daresay youwill tell me it is no business of mine."

  Uzali bowed with the utmost self-possession. Disturbed as she wasBeatrice did not fail to notice this. She was struck with the charm andgrace of the Malay's manner.

  "You see, I was brought up in this country," he said, speaking perfectEnglish. "My country is more or less of an unfortunate one, and myfather was an enlightened man. That is why he sent me to school andcollege in England. No doubt he had dreams, poor man, that some day orother I should come into my own again. But that time has passed forever."

  To Beatrice's surprise she found herself at the end of ten minuteschatting gaily and freely with the stranger. She noticed from time totime how his dark eyes were turned upon an ornament which she wore abouther neck. It was a diamond pendant, consisting of a moth, in darkenamel, the wing set in diamonds. The other wing was gone, as indeedwas part of the body. Beatrice was bound to notice Uzali's curiosity.

  "Do you admire my moth?" she asked.

  "It would be impossible to do anything else," Uzali said gravely. "Theworkmanship is unique. You see, I am interested in that kind of thing;indeed, I have made a study of them all my lifetime. Perhaps you areacquainted with the history of that moth? Do you know where it camefrom?"

  "Indeed, no," Beatrice confessed. "It conveys nothing to me, but it hasa fascination for me and I wear it frequently."

  "And you don't know where it came from?"

  "No, except that my uncle gave it to me."

  Uzali's eyes flashed and he looked down at his plate which he appearedto be studying gravely.

  "You are fortunate in the possession of such an uncle," he said. "Iwonder if I have the honour of his acquaintance."

  "That is probable," Beatrice said frankly. She had lost all her fears."So many people know my uncle. He is Mr. Samuel Flower, the shipper."

  Uzali said nothing. Sitting close by him, watching him carefully,Wilfrid noticed a sudden flush across the Malay's cheek and how the darkeyes turned to purple.

  "The name is familiar to me," Uzali said, "but then there are so manypeople whom I know. So it never struck you to ask your uncle thehistory of that pendant? Now what should you say if I could produce themissing half?"

  Beatrice looked up eagerly, her lips parted.

  "How very curious!" she said. "But you are joking."

  Uzali bowed gravely, then produced a small green packet from an insidepocket, from which he drew a small folded piece of wash-leather; andthis being undone disclosed what appeared to be an engraved diamond inthe shape of an insect's wing.

  "We do strange things in my country," he said with a queer smile. "Wehave priests and learned men whose philosophy is far beyond anythingthat one knows of in the West. Not that I claim these powers myself,oh, no. That is quite another matter. But I think you will besatisfied if I prove to you that this is the missing portion of yourpendant. Mr. Mercer shall be umpire if you like, and we will leave himto judge. Perhaps you would not mind removing your pendant for amoment."

  Beatrice complied. She was quite excited now. All her strange fears hadfallen from her. With trembling fingers she removed the pendant fromits slender gold chain and laid it on the tablecloth. Wilfrid reachedover and fitted the broken pieces together. He could see that theymatched to a nicety.

  "Not the slightest doubt about it," he exclaimed. "These two pieces onceformed one jewel. Now whom does it belong to? Mr. Uzali, do you claimthe whole thing? Are you going to hand over your half to MissGalloway?"

  "I wasn't thinking of doing either for the moment," Uzali said coolly."But I am going to ask Miss Galloway to trust her portion into my handsso that I can get the ornament mended, when I hope she will allow me tosend her the jewel intact. All I ask in return is that Miss Gallowaywill inquire of her uncle how the moth found its way into his hands."

  "Perhaps you know already," Beatrice smiled. But Uzali was not to bedrawn. He shook his head.

  "I do not claim any occult powers," he said. "I merely said that thereare wise men in my country who possess them. And now, if you will begood enough to give your portion of the moth to me I will let you haveit in a few days restored to its original beauty."

  Beatrice hesitated. Yet, why not comply? The request had been madetastefully and in good faith. It was a graceful thing to do and hermoth had always fascinated her. She handed her portion to Uzali with asmile.

  "It is exceedingly good of you," she said, "and I am obliged by yourkindness. I am equally justified in handing my half of the treasureover to you----"

  "But I don't wear that kind of thing," Uzali protested. "Now give meyour address so that I may carry out my promise. Miss Marcombe, are yo
uready? I think the next dance is ours."

  The Malay had vanished before Beatrice could say more. Her excitementhad passed away. She looked at Wilfrid with troubled eyes. Had she donewrong?

  "Leave it to Providence," Wilfrid said answering her unspoken thoughts."The Malay, at least, meant well."