As she spoke, the old woman drew the ear-ring from her bosom and held it up in the light of a street-lamp. The man gave one glance at the sparkling stones, and darted after Jane Kelly, who was gliding off like a shadow in the distance.
Madame put up her jewel, and followed the policeman, chuckling softly to herself.
“Is this the person?” said the policeman, leading Jane Kelly back, with a strong grasp on her arm. “Have I caught the right bird?”
“That is the woman,” replied the old De Marke, peering into Jane’s face, “I should know her among a thousand. I caught her in my room, not ten minutes ago, robbing my money-box; picked the door-lock when I was out buying groceries; had this very ear-ring in her hand; you’ll find the box open on the floor, just as she left it. I trod softly, light as a feather, darted in upon her, snatched this from her hand—she ran—I after her, and here she is!”
Jane Kelly stood before her accuser as she uttered these charges, dumb with astonishment, and pale with dismay. She looked from the policeman to the old woman and back again with a wild stare.
“What is the witch at now?” she said, at last, in a frightened voice, wincing under the grasp fixed on her arm. “Let me go, I haven’t done nothing; I’m a hired nurse at Bellevue Hospital—a paid nurse, do you understand?”
“Is she?” inquired the man, turning to Madame de Marke.
“Don’t know anything about her, sir; saw her hanging about my building about ten days ago, first and last time I ever saw her till now. That night I walked in the streets from twelve o’clock at night till three in the morning, the priest made me do it as a penance; when I got home, the mate to this was gone from my money-box; to-night she came after another haul!”
Jane Kelly turned upon her fierce and pale. “Woman, you lie!” broke from lips that trembled so with fear and passion that the words came almost in a whisper.
“Of course I do; no one ever told the truth about a thief; of course it’s all a story, perhaps the magistrate’ll think so.”