The Voice in the Fog Part 20

"Lord Monckton has dropped his gla.s.s somewhere, sir, and he sent me to inquire, sir."

"Oh, here it is. And tell your master to be very careful of it. Some one might step on it."

"Thank you, sir." The valet departed as noiselessly as he had entered.

"Really," mused Thomas, "there's a rum chap. I don't like him around.

He gives me the what-d'-y'-call-it."

They needed an extra man at the table that night, so Thomas came down.

He found himself between two jolly young women, opposite Kitty who divided her time between Lord Monckton and a young millionaire who, rumor bruited it, was very attentive to Killigrew's daughter. Still, Thomas enjoyed himself. n.o.body seemed to mind that he was only a clerk in the house. The simpleton did not realize that he was a personage to these people; an English private secretary, quite a social stroke on the part of the Killigrews.

He gathered odd bits of news of what was going on among the summer colonists. The lady next to Killigrew, a Mrs. Wilberforce, had had a strange adventure the night before. She and her maid had been mysteriously overpowered by some strange fume, and later discovered that her pearls were gone. She had notified the town police. This brought the conversation around to the maharajah's emeralds. Hadn't he and his attendants been overcome in the same manner? Thomas thought of the sapphires. Since n.o.body knew he had them, he stood in no danger.

But there was Kitty's great fire-opal, glowing like a coal on her breast, seeming to breathe as she breathed. It was almost as large as a crown-piece.

During lulls Thomas dreamed. He was going to give himself until thirty to make his fortune; and he was going to make it down there in the wilds of South America. But invariably the sleepy mocking eyes of Lord Monckton brought him back to earth, jarringly.

Once, Kitty caught Thomas gazing malevolently at Lord Monckton. No love lost between them, evidently. It was the ancient story: to wager, to borrow, to lend, to lose a friend.

Long after midnight Kitty awoke. She awoke hungry. So she put on her slippers and peignoir and stole down-stairs. The grills on each side of the entrance to the main hall were open; that is, the cas.e.m.e.nt windows were thrown back. She heard voices and naturally paused to learn whose they were. She would have known them anywhere in the world.

"Tut, tut, Tommy; don't be a bally a.s.s and lose your temper."

"Temper? Lose my temper? I'm not losing it, but I'm jolly well tired of this rotten business."

"It was you who suggested the wager; I only accepted it."

"I know it."

"And once booked, no Englishman will welch, if he isn't a cad."

"I'm not thinking of welching. But I don't see what you get out of it."

"Sport. And a good hand at bridge."

"Remarkably good."

"I say, you don't mean to insinuate . . ."

"I'm not insinuating. I'm just d.a.m.nably tired. Why the devil did you take up that monocle business? You never wore one; and Miss Killigrew found out this morning that it was an ordinary gla.s.s."

"She did?" Lord Monckton chuckled.

"And she laughed over it, too."

"Keen of her. But, what the devil! Stick a monocle in your eye, and you don't need any letters of introduction. Lucky idea, your telephoning me that you were here. What a frolic, all around!"

So that was why her coup had fallen flat? thought Kitty.

"I'll tell you this much," said Thomas. (Kitty heard him tap his pipe against the veranda railing.) "Play fair or, by the lord, I'll smash you! I'm going to stick to my end of the bargain, and see that you walk straight with yours."

"I see what's worrying you. Clear your mind. I would not marry the richest, handsomest woman in all the world, Thomas. There's a dead heart inside of me."

"There's another thing. I'd get rid of that valet."

"Why?"--quickly.

"He's too bally soft on his feet to my liking. I don't like him."

"Neither do I, Thomas!" murmured Kitty, forgetting all about her hunger. Not a word about her sapphires, though. Did she see but the surface of things? Was there something deeper?

She stole back up-stairs. As she reached the upper landing, some one brushed past her, swiftly, noiselessly. With the rush of air which followed the prowler's wake came a peculiar sickish odor. She waited for a while. But there was no sound in all the great house.

CHAPTER XX

"The Carew cottage was entered last night," said Killigrew, "and twenty thousand in diamonds are gone. Getting uncomfortably close. You and your mother, Kitty, had better let me take your jewels into town to-day."

"We have nothing out here but trinkets."

"Trinkets! Do you call that fire-opal a trinket? Better let me take it into town, anyway. I'm Irish enough to be superst.i.tious about opals."

"That's nonsense."

"Maybe."

"Oh, well; if the thought of having it around makes you nervous, I'll give it to you. The Crawfords and Mr. Forbes are coming down this afternoon. You must be home again before dinner. Here's the opal."

She took it from around her neck.

"Crawfords? Fine!" Killigrew slipped the gem into his wallet. "I'll bring them back on the yacht if you'll take the trouble to phone them to meet me at the club pier."

"I'll do so at once. Good-by! Mind the street-crossing," she added, mimicking her mother's voice.

"I'll be careful," he laughed, stepping into the launch which immediately swung away toward the beautiful yacht, dazzling white in the early morning suns.h.i.+ne.

Kitty waved her handkerchief, turned and walked slowly back to the villa. Who had pa.s.sed her in the upper hall? And on what errand?

Neither Thomas nor Lord Monckton, for she had left them on the veranda.

Perhaps she was worrying unnecessarily. It might have been one of her guests, going down to the library for a book to read.

She met Lord Monckton coming out.

"Fine morning!" he greeted. He made a gesture, palm upward.

A slight s.h.i.+ver touched the nape of Kitty's neck. She had never noticed before how frightfully scarred his thumbs and finger-tips were.

He saw the glance.

"Ah! You notice my fingers? Not at all sensitive about them, really.