The Paternoster Ruby Part 38

But the gem still carried its baleful spell, for we also know how the expert whom the Paternostros carried with them to Paris, was drowned just as the homeward-bound vessel was entering Dover harbor.

So much for the ruby's eventful history.

Chaya's declaration also confirmed my conclusions respecting Burke's designed imposition upon Alfred Fluette--which, by the way, he seemed to regard as perfectly legitimate. And then it concluded with the most important matter of all.

On the night of Felix Page's murder, while his companions were all in the second story, Chaya had remained on guard below. He had watched Page following Burke up-stairs, after the robbery, but could not warn the thief without alarming the pursuer.

After the struggle began in the hall, Chaya harkened to it a while, then dashed up the rear stairs to take a hand, in case the jewel was to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from his companions at the very moment of victory. He pa.s.sed through the bath room during the brief period Burke was in his own room informing Tshen of the state of affairs, entered the hall, where, by the dim light of the solitary candle, the two men were locked in combat. The struggle was so furious that his presence was not noticed. He proceeded to the _north-east_ angle of the bal.u.s.trade, where he crouched around the corner and followed through the bal.u.s.ters the uncertain issues of the fight.

He watched the two chief actors so intently, in fact, that he failed to perceive Burke s.n.a.t.c.h up the supposed ruby from the floor; but he did see Page wrest the leather case from Fluette.

Now was the time for him to act. He was armed with a black-jack--a ball of lead wrapped in leather and with a short, flexible leather handle--and just as Fluette grabbed up the iron candle-stick he plunged forward.

At this instant the light was extinguished, and he received the full weight of a human body as it staggered backward. He supposed it to be Page's. He struck out blindly with his own cruel weapon, at the same time shoving the body away from him. He felt his bludgeon crush upon his victim's head; and then he was himself felled to the floor with a tremendous blow that blotted out everything else for him. The base of the candlestick had found a mark wholly unsuspected by any one.

He knew afterwards that his companions had carried him down the rear stairs and away; that they tried to doctor him until they grew alarmed at the seriousness of his injuries; whereupon they deserted him in his room, after notifying the landlord, who had in turn notified the hospital authorities. Chaya was well supplied with funds, so there had been no difficulty on that score.

And thus was my deduction proved to be correct. Felix Page's _left_ side had been toward the bal.u.s.trade at the instant Fluette s.n.a.t.c.hed up the candle-stick; on the bal.u.s.trade was a deep indentation where the base of the improvised weapon had impinged, after glancing; and the fatal blow had struck upon the victim's _right_ temple. A single descending blow can not very well pa.s.s down one side of a man and end upon the other.

But while Chaya's story gratified me beyond measure, at the same time it was incomplete; it threw no light upon the ruby's resting-place, and for the simple reason that he knew no more about it than any of the rest of the individuals interested in discovering where it had been hidden. I was satisfied that the cipher, once I had interpreted it, would lead me to the gem. Therefore, it remained for me to find it.

Well, the cryptic writing was solved, pretty soon; but the solution came like a crash of thunder, revealing the one twist toward the end that I had least expected.

And, worst of all, I should have known!

CHAPTER XXVI

THE CIPHER SOLVED

Chaya's ante-mortem statement, properly attested by Dr. Larrimer, Dr.

De Breen, the hospital secretary, and myself, together with the otherwise complete case I had, was sufficient of course to open the prison doors for Royal Maillot. It should also have lifted the cloud from Alfred Fluette; but, alas! it did not.

To make my story end as all well-conditioned stories ought to end, I should here be able to wave my wand, or invoke some good genie, or however it is that the writer-folk bestow happiness at a stroke upon the helpless creatures whom they have been ruthlessly dragging through a sea of trial and tribulation, and show you the actors in my own drama transported with joy. But I am recording what actually happened. It was a strange fatality that cast itself into the lives of these people.

They were dismayed, overwhelmed, rendered helpless, left uncomprehending. However much I may desire to do so, therefore, I can not twist the truth to give my own story precisely the ending that you or I might desire it to have.

As for myself, I couldn't carry the news fast enough to Maillot and to Mr. Fluette, and to Belle and Genevieve. My enthusiasm met its first damper when the cell door swung open, and the young fellow walked out a free man. It is true that his grat.i.tude was immeasurable; he could find no words to express it, and he wrung my hand until--strong man that I am--I had to tear away from him.

But after his elation had time to cool, he grew morose and gloomy; he was more inclined to cling to what he had gone through, than to accept the extremely satisfactory a.s.surance that he stood clear and as far above suspicion as Caesar's wife.

"No use talking, Swift," he responded to my attempts to rally him out of his humor; "the taint will stick to me. People will say I 'm the fellow who was arrested for killing his uncle so that he could inherit his fortune. They 'll always point me out and shake their heads and say I was released only because the police couldn't find evidence to convict me. I hope to Heaven the old man made a will giving all his money to charity."

"Faugh!" Such morbid talk was thoroughly exasperating. "Mr. Fluette had a much narrower escape than you did."

"Perhaps," he admitted heavily. "But n.o.body knows it outside of you and his family. I can't go to Belle with the odor of prison clinging to me. And what's more, I sha'n't."

"If you don't," I said quietly, "you 'll break her heart. Your suffering has been as nothing compared with hers." Then I lost my patience completely. "Maillot," I flung at him, "you're a d.a.m.ned fool!" And I swung on my heel and strode away.

"Hi! Swift! Come back here!" he yelled after me. In the next second he had caught hold of my arm and jerked me to a standstill.

"Good Lord, man! I did n't know you had such a nasty temper! Here you come and drag me out of jail, telling me I 'm innocent and all that sort of thing, and because I don't strike out hot-footed and throw myself into the presence of the cleanest, sweetest girl in the world, you think I 'm an a.s.s.

"Look here. _I_ knew I was innocent; but at the same time I did n't try to blink my compromising predicament. I wouldn't blame _any_ fair-minded person for being suspicious of me. But everything 's happened so sudden--I can't understand,--and--well, hang it, Swift! you have n't made yourself clear, by a long shot. If you think I ought to go to Belle, why, I 'll go."

"Then let's go together," said I.

And we did.

After we had boarded a car, I reverted to the matter of the will.

"I don't think it's likely that any will will turn up," I told him. "I have talked with Mr. Ulysses White about it, and he said that Felix Page was one of the sort who have a holy horror of last testaments. If the old gentleman ever made any such disposition of his property, Mr.

White had no hand in it."

To dismiss the matter, I will say here that no will ever did turn up, and that Maillot inherited the entire Page fortune. I merely mentioned this topic to pave the way for that of the ruby.

"Not the least part of the estate," I pursued, "will be the Paternoster ruby."

The young fellow interrupted me impulsively.

"By George, Swift! it's yours. Find it and keep it--or sell it and keep the money. I 'll not have the ghastly thing--chuck it into the lake first."

"That's no proper way to dispose of it; and later on you might regret such a gift to me. This was what I was going to suggest.

"I believe the claim of the Burmese to be just, for I suppose they 're honest according to their lights. They would have a pretty hard time establis.h.i.+ng it, though, if you are of a mind to contest the matter."

"Great Scott! Forget that cursed ruby; talk about something else. I want to get the thing out of my mind and never think of it again."

"All right. I sha'n't mention it after to-day. But let me get through. Here 's an easy way to settle the matter.

"Let the Burmese have it after reimbursing the estate for what your uncle paid for it; it would be only fair--at least, in a measure.

"I want to hold Tshen and his entourage of mild-eyed cutthroats until I put Burke through; they 're my best witnesses. We can't hang the rascal, but we have an excellent ease against him for burglary, attempted swindling, and attempted blackmail. After I find the ruby you can do the bargaining."

He agreed to this. After a bit he favored me with a quizzical regard.

"I don't mind explaining that ring episode--now," he said, in response to my look of inquiry. "When you first pointed out the true import of the wax impression on the candlestick, it brought to my mind at once Fluette's capricious notion of wearing a ring on the middle finger of his right hand. I was keeping tab on you the day of the inquest. I knew that he was going to attend, and that the circ.u.mstance would be of considerable significance to you. I saw your look dart to his right hand---saw you watching him--"

"And you thought you 'd confuse me, eh?"

"Exactly. When you saw the ring on his finger only, the circ.u.mstance was pregnant--portentous. When you had _two_ rings on _two_ right hands, why, you were puzzled, but the effect was scattering and weak."

I approached Mr. Fluette with an enthusiasm decidedly tempered, and so I was not as disappointed as I might have been. My good news seemed to produce not the slightest effect upon him. He appeared to have aged twenty years; and from that day until his death, which occurred only four months later, he remained melancholy and without interest in anything whatever.

However, I was placed in the most embarra.s.sing position that I ever experienced in my life. Before explanations were half made, Miss Belle flew at me--I 'm not attempting a pun, either--with a glad, impetuous cry, threw her arms around my neck, and, drawing herself to her tiptoes--_kissed me_! I had been far more at ease under her levelled revolver.