“Any money that is required for your husband’s defence shall be found,” Félice promised. “And I wish you to hear me tell you this, Mrs. Drayton— everywhere was darkness at the time, as you know, but one gleam of light did show from the window, and I do not believe that it would have been possible for your husband to have fired off a pistol without my seeing what he was doing. So listen. If it should be necessary, then I shall go into the box and tell that to the judge.”
“God bless you, my lady!” the woman exclaimed, dabbing once more at her eyes.
“Furthermore,” Félice continued, with a little tremor in her tone, “although you. must not count too much upon this, I feel sure that Sir Richard honestly believes your husband innocent and that he has collected some quite important evidence himself.”
The woman rose to her feet, still in a lachrymose state, crossed the room and unlocked a drawer in a writing desk. From what seemed to be a secret compartment she produced a ring, and, returning, handed it to her visitor.
“My lady,” she said, “me and Max have lied, but we ain’t going to lie to you. It was two rings that Max got hold of. One of them the police has; here’s the other. I couldn’t keep it after your ladyship’s kindness, not if it was worth a thousand pounds.”
Félice’s eyes were lit with pleasure.
“But this is very kind of you,” she acknowledged. “It is not a large stone, but it is such a favourite of mine. You see, I used it as a guard for my engagement ring. Do you mean that I am to have it back again?”
“That’s what I do mean,” the woman rejoined. “Max and me ain’t always so particular. We’re for collecting what we can in the world, but we don’t want anything of yours, and he’d feel the same w4-y~ I know, if he were here—and I’m specially pleased if it was a favourite of yours, my lady.”
“There was a reward offered,” Félice ventured, a little doubtfully.
“You can’t pay a reward to the wife of a thief who’s returned what her husband’s stolen,” the woman interrupted bluntly. “I’m only sorry about the necklace, but you can take it from me, and it’s God’s truth—Max never had it.”
“I am sure I believe you, Mrs. Drayton,” Félice said, rising to her feet. “Perhaps it will turn up after all, some day. Now, I must go. I heard that your husband was to be charged with the murder and I felt that I must come and’ see you at once. I am sure that you need not worry. They shall not frighten me, and when I give my evidence I shall say that I do not believe it was possible for your husband to have shot the Comte de Besset. I shall say that, no matter whom else it may place in danger.”
The tears were rolling down the woman’s cheeks, playing havoc with her carefully prepared complexion.
“I’ll never forget your goodness, my lady,” she admitted humbly. “You re one of the right sort, and there ain’t too many. You ain’t English, of course?” she asked, a little timidly, as she opened the door.
“No. I am half Russian and half French.”
“Now ain’t that strange!” the woman exclaimed, as she led the way down the oilcloth-covered passage.
“You know my Max says all the time as there was some one else on the job that night, or else where’s the necklace gone? And it’s a Russian as Max told me he suspected.”
“A Russian?” Félice repeated, with a sudden little catch in her throat. “Does your husband know the name or anything about him?”
“He don’t know much,” the woman confessed, “but there’s a young fellow as he’s sure was in some crooked business not long ago, and he saw him down near Glenlitten only the night before he took on the job, when he was having a look round. What with the poor French gentleman being shot, and the necklace missing, it’s a dead cert that there was some one else prowling about. Sir Richard, he thinks so too, and he’s a shrewd one. I only ‘ope as it’s no one as will bring trouble to your ladyship,” she concluded, in a lower tone.
Félice’s smile was easy and assured, but there was a chill feeling at her heart as she stepped out on to the pavement.
“I do not think there is any fear of that, Mrs. Drayton,” she said. “My friends were all accounted for. The whole thing is very mysterious, of course. One feels only foolish when one tries to guess. Some day I hope that it will be cleared up, for all our sakes.”
“It had better be,” the woman at the gate muttered, with a momentary return of her sullen manner.
CHAPTER XVIII
Andrew, standing booted and spurred in the library of his town house two days later, frowned perceptibly as Mr. Felix Main was ushered in. His expression, as a rule, was almost too good-natured. He possessed one of those happy, benevolent countenances which invite the mendicant and are a living encouragement to the would-be applicant for philanthropic assistance. To Mr. Felix Main, however, he presented an altogether different appearance. He was tapping the side of his leg with his riding crop in most suggestive fashion when his guest was ushered in, and his expression was, to say the least of it, inhospitable. He nodded briefly and waited until the door was closed before he spoke.
“What do you want with me, Mr. Main?” he asked. “I told you that our business was finished— paid you and settled up.”
The detective advanced a little farther into the room, carefully drawing off his gloves. There was a slight squirm of the shoulders as he moved. His manner, though humble in the extreme, seemed still to suggest the cloven foot.
“I am very sorry to intrude, Lord Glenlitten,” he said. “Sorry indeed if my visit is in any way inopportune, but in connection with that little affair I looked into for you, certain developments have occurred—certain developments which I thought should be brought to your notice.”
“Spit them out and have done with it then,” Andrew invited. “You did your work well enough, I have —no doubt, but I have come to the conclusion that I was an idiot to employ you. I have learnt all I wish to learn from the usual sources.”
“All that you wish to learn, perhaps,” Mr. Felix Main repeated softly, “yet not by any means all that there is to be learnt.”
“Do I gather,” Andrew enquired, “that, without my instructions, against my wishes, in fact, you have been pursuing further investigations into my affairs?”
Mr. Felix Main made no direct reply. Notwithstanding the fact that any sort of invitation had been lacking, he seated himself upon a hard leather chair. Andrew surveyed him as though he were some sort of natural curiosity.
“Your lordship would do better to treat me as a well-wisher,” he suggested gently. “Such information as I have acquired I have acquired in your lordship’s service.”
The crop swung rhythmically backwards and forwards in the air.
“You ran it pretty fine last time, Mr. Main,” Andrew observed. “I should recommend you to be very careful how far you go this morning. I am not in a very good temper. I have a great aversion to people who interfere in other people’s business on their own account. Now remember, you’re fully warned. If you have anything to say to me, say it at your own risk. If you have a bill to present, present it, and so long as it doesn’t savour to me of blackmail I may pay it. Otherwise I’m busy. It’s a fine morning and I want to ride.”
Mr. Main coughed.
“I shall not keep you very long from your morning’s exercise. You stopped my investigations on your behalf in connection with the famous Glenlitten murder when I felt it my duty to tell you of some discoveries I made. Your wife, on her retirement that evening, was followed first by Prince Charles