And compelled to slip back to the ballroom, she crushed the note into her corsage.
Early next morning a car took Charlie to the station, and soon after luncheon he reëntered his rooms. The day was Monday, wet and dreary. All hope had left him, for his defalcations must be discovered and the directors would, without a doubt, prosecute him. Hence he went about London interested in nothing and obsessed by the terrible disgrace which must inevitably befall him.
On the evening of his sudden departure from Hawstead, at about half-past six, the house-party was thrown into a state of great concern by the amazing announcement that Mrs. Bainbridge had lost her jewels—the unique string of precious stones which had once belonged to the late Sultan Abdul Hamid! Mrs. Bainbridge’s maid discovered the loss when her mistress went to dress for dinner.
She declared that on the previous evening she had placed them out upon a little polished table set against the heavy red-plush curtains and close to the dressing-table. She believed that her mistress had worn them upon her corsage on the Sunday night, and that on retiring she had locked them in her jewel-box. On the contrary, Mrs. Bainbridge did not wear them, a fact to which everyone testified. The millionaire’s wife had left the Sultan’s famous jewels upon the little polished table when she descended for dinner on Sunday night, and naturally concluded that her maid—who had been with her over twelve years—would see them and place them in safety.
Suspicion instantly fell upon Charles Otley. Old Mr. Bainbridge was, of course, furious, whereupon Lord Teesdale took it upon himself to go at once to London to see Otley.
This he did, and when that afternoon Sanford showed his lordship unexpectedly into the room, the young man stood aghast at the news.
“Tell me, Otley—if you know nothing of this affair—why, then, did you leave Hawstead so suddenly?” he demanded.
“Because I had business here in town,” was his reply. Instantly across his mind flashed the recollection of the incident of the fleeting figure which he believed to be that of an Oriental. He related to his late host the exact facts. But Lord Teesdale listened quite unimpressed. As a matter of fact, he felt, in his own mind, that the young fellow was the thief.
The story of the Chinaman was far too fantastic for his old-fashioned mind. He had heard of the Chinese, the opium traffic and suchlike things, and he saw in Otley’s statement a distinct attempt to mislead him.
The police were not called in because Mr. Bainbridge did not desire to bring the Teesdales’ house-party into the newspapers, and, moreover, both he and his wife were confident that young Otley was the thief.