'Are there any strangers about that could have come in through the window?'
'No, Lilian; there are no strangers about the place except the gardener, and he seems a most respectable man. I got a very high character of him from his last place; in fact we were told he was a most trustworthy person.'
Next day there was a wonderful commotion about the missing jewel-case. The police were sent for, and every place was searched over and over again, but to no purpose. One thing, however, puzzled us: on the window-sill was a footmark, and near the dressing-table a little bit of earth, as if off a shoe or boot; which led us to think that the thief must have come in through the window. But how did he get up to it? It was a good height from the ground, and the creeping plants were not in the least broken, as would have been the case had any one climbed up by them. A ladder must have been employed; and it was little to the credit of the police that this fact had not been properly considered. As the matter stood, it was a mystery, and seemed likely to remain so, and only one ear-ring was left of the valuable set.
In a few days I left for school, where I remained for four years. I spent every vacation between my home and my god-mother's. We often spoke of the stolen diamonds; but nothing had ever been heard of them, though a reward of fifty pounds had been offered by Mr Hall for any information that would lead to the detection of the thief. On my sixteenth birthday my god-mother gave me a beautiful watch and chain and the diamond ear-ring, which she had got arranged as a necklet.
'I am so sorry, Lilian,' said she, 'that I have not the rest of those diamonds to give you; but if ever they are found, they shall be yours, my dear.'
I must now pass over six years, which went by quietly and happily, nothing very important taking place until the last year, during which time I had been married. My husband was a barrister. We lived in the north of England. My mother-in-law Mrs Benson, and Mary, one of her daughters, lived some miles away from us near the sea-coast. It was a very lonely place, a long way from the little fishing-town, or rather village, of Burnley. I confess I often felt very nervous about Mrs Benson and her daughter living alone (her husband being dead many years). Except three women-servants in the house, and the coachman and his family who lived in the lodge, there was no one nearer than Burnley, four miles off. Besides, it was known that there was a large quantity of plate in the house; and the little sea-side village was often the resort of smugglers and other wild and lawless characters. One day, while thinking of them, I felt so uneasy that I said to my husband: 'I hope, Henry, there is nothing wrong with your mother; she has been in my mind all day.'
'Oh,' said he, 'why should you feel anxious about her to-day? I saw her last Tuesday; and if she were ill, Mary would be sure to let us know. It is only one of your "fancies," little wife.'
Still I did not feel easy, for more than once before my so-called 'fancy' had proved to be a 'reality;' so I determined that in a few days I would go and see Mrs Benson. All that evening I could not get her out of my thoughts, and it was a long time before I went to sleep. I think it must have been about three o'clock in the morning that I woke in a state of terror. I had dreamed that I saw Mrs Benson standing in the window of her bedroom, beckoning me to come to her, and pointing to a female figure who was stealing along under the shade of the trees in the avenue, for the moon was shining brightly.
I started up, thinking I heard her calling me. And here is the most extraordinary part of it all—though I was now quite awake, I heard, as I thought, a voice saying to me: 'Go, tell Mrs Benson, Martha is deceiving her; tell her to send her away at once.'
Three times these words seemed to be repeated in my ear. I can't describe exactly what the voice was like: it was not loud, but quite distinct; and I felt as I listened that it was a warning, and that I must obey it. I woke my husband, and told him my dream and the words I had heard. He tried to calm my mind, and evidently thought me foolish to be so frightened by only a stupid dream. I said I would drive over the first thing after breakfast, and see if anything was wrong with Mary or her mother. The only thing that puzzled me was that Martha should be mentioned as deceiving Mrs Benson. She acted as housekeeper and lady's-maid to her, and was believed to be most trustworthy in every way. She had been four years with her; and was much respected. She was a silent reserved kind of person, about thirty-five years of age. One thing I had often remarked about her was, that when speaking to any one she never looked straight at them; but I thought it might be from a kind of shyness more than anything else.