Lord Castlecourt turned to me.
“What’s this mean, Jeffers? You’ve had charge of the diamonds.”
I told him all I knew and as well as I could, what with my legs trembling that they’d scarce support me, and my tongue dry as a piece of leather. When I got toward the end, my lady interrupted me, crying out:
“Herbert, it isn’t my fault, it isn’t! Jeffers will tell you I’ve taken good care of them. I’ve not been careless or forgetful about them, as I have about other things. I have been careful of them! It isn’t my fault, and you mustn’t blame me!”
Lord Castlecourt made a sort of gesture toward her to be still. I could see it meant that. He kept the case, and, going to the door, locked it.
“How long have you been in these rooms?” he said, turning round on me with the key in his hand.
I told him, trembling, and almost crying. I had never seen my lord look so terribly stern. I don’t know whether he was angry or not, but I was afraid of him, and it was for the first time; for he’d always been a kind and generous master to me and the other servants.
“Oh, my lord,” I said, feeling suddenly weighed down with dread and misery, “you surely don’t think I took them?”
“I’m not thinking anything,” he said. “You and Chawlmers are to stay in this room, and not move from it till you get my orders. I’ll send at once for the police.”
My lady turned round in her chair and looked at him.