A cavity was revealed, and I passed my hand along. It was empty. "Gertrude, the diamonds are gone!" I cried in dismay, and our spirits fell to zero.
[CHAPTER XXI.]
THE AIRSHIP
Who had removed the diamonds? That was my thought for the next twenty-four hours, but I could not answer my own question. I certainly remembered how Striver insisted that Mr. Monk had secured possession of the fortune. But only by getting possession of the eye could he learn where the jewels were hidden; and by Striver's own showing he had not been thus fortunate. Only when destroying the eye had he had it in his hands, and then, instead of reading the cipher, he had thrown the coin upon which it was written into the Thames. Moreover, for many months Monk had been masquerading as Wentworth Marr, and had possessed the money to keep up the farce. Undoubtedly--as I thought, after much reflection--the story of Australian legacy must be true. Mr. Monk, on the face of it, could not have looted the beam of its valuable contents.
But what astonished me was that Monk should have thrown away the coin, although it was natural enough that he should have destroyed the eye. But why did he not at least attempt to read the cipher? It seemed to be an extremely easy one, as the repetition of the beam's carving on the coin suggested the Latin motto. The reversed letters suggested a little hard thinking, but presented no great obstacle. The late Gabriel Monk had cut away the inscribed board, and behind had hollowed out a place for the reception of the diamonds--in a bag, I presume. Also he had cut out the first and last letters of the saying in circular form, and to these had attached pieces of iron. When the letters were placed straightly these pieces of iron caught on to the inner part of the beam, and so held the inscribed board; when reversed, they released the same. It was ingenious but not difficult of solution, and I wondered that Monk had not read the cipher. If he had, he certainly would have guessed that the beam in The Lodge smoking-room held the jewels, and in that event would have searched. On this assumption I thought that the man could not have examined the cipher. But why he should not have done so puzzled me considerably.
However, the case stood thus: Monk had returned to America, or at all events had left England; Striver also had taken his departure, and the jewels which belonged to Gertrude had disappeared. The gardener intended--so he said--to tell the truth and unmask the assassin of his aunt, but unless he intended to denounce himself when at a safe distance, I could not imagine what he intended to say. So far as I could see there was nothing to do but to wait some communication from Striver. Meanwhile I urged Gertrude to marry me during the first month of the New Year.
"But I am afraid to marry you until the truth about Anne's murder is known, Cyrus," she objected. "Aunt Julia still threatens me."
"Let us go and see your aunt now," I said. It was next morning that this conversation took place. "We can explain matters to her, and she will be forced to see that you are innocent. After all, she only desires the half share of the fortune. When she learns it is lost she will hold her tongue, having nothing to gain by talking."
Anxious to end all suspense, Gertrude agreed, and we paid an early visit to Miss Destiny. In the cold greyness of the day her tin house looked more dismal than usual, and as we walked through the jungle path I wondered how a lady bred and born could live in so miserable a place. She was not rich, certainly, but she could have afforded a better dwelling. Yet I daresay she was happy enough in her sordid home, since all she cared for was money, and, so long as she possessed actual gold to gloat over, cared little for the comforts it could bring. It was a strange way of finding happiness.
Miss Destiny opened the door herself, as Lucinda--it appeared, from what she said--had gone to buy some food in the village. The little old lady was dressed in her usual threadbare black silk, with the addition of a knitted woollen shawl over her spare shoulders. She looked extremely shabby: also pinched and haggard. But her black eyes were as bright as ever, and she seemed to possess considerable vitality in her wiry frame.