“My cross!” stammered Lady Gernon; and her hand involuntarily sought the place where it had hung. “I had it when I—when—”
“Yes, when you entered the conservatory,” said Sir Murray, a suspicion crossing his breast; “but where is it now?”
“I do not know!” exclaimed Lady Gernon, whose agitation became extreme.
The rumour of the failing mines; Captain Norton’s poverty; his own jealousy; thought after thought flashed across Sir Murray Gernon’s brain in an instant of time.
“Go to your guests,” he said sternly. “There are people coming this way, and I wish to avoid a scene. James,” he said, beckoning to a footman, “see that man, Gurdon, into the little garden-room, lock him up, and then fetch a constable.”
“What for—what for?” said Gurdon, loudly. “You don’t think, do you, that I’ve got the cross?”
“Silence, sir! Take him away!” exclaimed Sir Murray, sternly. Then, turning to Captain Norton, he said in a whisper, “There are two things in this world, Philip Norton, that I value: my honour and those old family jewels.”
“I am attending to your words,” said Norton, coldly; for he had just met an imploring look from Marion.
“I told you, Lady Gernon, to go to your guests!” said Sir Murray, in an angry whisper.
“No, Murray,” she said. “I shall stay!”