“I would give it you if I could.”
“You shall.”
The Bohemian looked contemptible enough now, despite the handsomeness of his features. It needed freedom, and the absence of any urgency, to enable him to personate a gentleman. Given those conditions, he succeeded. But as soon as he was disturbed, the gloss vanished, and the true nature came out, that of a ruffian and a sneak. He quite quivered at the look with which Falconer turned again to the cupboard.
“Stop,” he cried; “here it is.”
And muttering what sounded like curses, he pulled out of his bosom the ring, suspended from his neck.
“Sutherland,” said Falconer, taking the ring, “secure that rapier, and be careful with it. We will have its point tested. Meantime,”—here he turned again to his prisoner—“I give you warning that the moment I leave this house, I go to Scotland Yard.—Do you know the place? I there recommend the police to look after you, and they will mind what I say. If you leave London, a message will be sent, wherever you go, that you had better be watched. My advice to you is, to stay where you are as long as you can. I shall meet you again.”
They left him on the floor, to the care of his landlady, whom they found outside the room, speechless with terror.
As soon as they were in the square, on which the moon was now shining, as it had shone in Euphra’s dream the night before, Falconer gave the ring to Hugh.
“Take it to a jeweller’s, Sutherland, and get it cleaned, before you give it to Miss Cameron.”
“I will,” answered Hugh, and added, “I don’t know how to thank you.”