Her mind was working with lightning rapidity as she awaited the stubborn French maid’s answer. In an instant she revolved the whole circle of her friends and foes. Who was the thief? Justine’s calm voice recalled her to the troubles of the moment. “I have never seen it since I sewed it in for you at the Arlington Hotel. Madame does not doubt me, I hope. Have any of the jewels in my custody been stolen or your money? When did Madame discover the loss?”
Under the clairvoyance of suspicion, Elaine realized the unmistakable air of the déclassée
, in the woman’s crafty face and the physical abandon of her tell-tale bearing. And yet, she felt that Justine was technically innocent.
Secure in a nearness to her generous employer, Justine Duprez had lately given herself over to all the easy luxuries of a vicious life, and the unerring record was now written on her smug face. There was all the insolence of the woman’s vile nature shining in her velvety eyes—the servant ready to turn and rend her mistress.
“Here is a possible enemy, a spy, the willing tool of others,” mused Elaine Willoughby, as she rose and coldly said, “The matter is merely an annoyance, not a loss. I however wish to be always able to trust those around me.” In her own mind she quickly recalled the last time when she had verified the existence of the document which bound up a financial secret of national importance. It was on the day before the dinner at which James Garston had come back into her life as a living legacy of a dead past. The existence of the paper had been verified then, in view of possible “business.” “When had it been stolen?” Her long illness flashed upon her. There were a hundred chances since then.
“Madame may remember her long illness,” sullenly said the uneasy Frenchwoman, at last. “There were two strange women in charge of you, night and day. I was not responsible for them, the Doctor brought them here. One of those nurses robbed Dr. Alberg himself later, and then ran away. Mon Dieu!
“The story was in all the papers. And, pardonnez moi, Madame was out of her mind. The story of that woman’s theft was a talk of the town. Doctor Alberg supplied her place from the St. Vincent’s Hospital service. Did he not tell you? But I am sure that he never knew that Madame, too, had been robbed. And these women were in sole charge for a fortnight of all your effects. They were in the sick-room night and day. As for me, Madame, my character is my sole capital.”
She laid a bunch of keys upon the night stand. “If Madame will please have some one verify her jewels, laces and wardrobe, I am ready to depart. I shall see the French Consul. He will protect me. And I will remain here, if Madame pleases, until my room and boxes are searched. To-morrow I go. À
votre disposition!”
The sly soubrette feared however that she had gone too far, as her mistress sternly gazed at her with eyes flashing with indignation. “Take up your keys, Justine, and go back at once to your room,” she quietly said. “Send the housekeeper to me.”