The Blood-Red Cross | Page 7

Mary Jessop, but
Rebecca Curt. You escaped from Portland prison on the night of
November 30th, just a year ago. You could not have managed your
escape but for the connivance of the lady in whose service you are now.
Your crime was forgery, with a strong and very daring attempt at
poisoning. Your victim was a harmless invalid lady. Your knowledge
of crime, therefore, is what may be called extensive. There are yet
eleven years of your sentence to run. You have doubtless served
Madame Sara well--but perhaps you can serve me better. You know the
consequence if you refuse, for I explained that to you frankly and
clearly before this gentleman came into the room. Druce, will you
oblige me--will you lock the door while I remove the gag from the
prisoner's mouth?"
I hurried to obey. The woman breathed more freely when the gag was
removed. Her face was a swarthy red all over. Her crooked eyes
favoured us with many shifty glances.
"Now, then, have the goodness to begin, Rebecca Curt," said Vandeleur.
"Tell us everything you can."
She swallowed hard, and said:--
"You have forced me----"
"We won't mind that part," interrupted Vandeleur. "The story, please,
Mrs. Curt."
If looks could kill, Rebecca Curt would have killed Vandeleur then. He
gave her in return a gentle, bland glance, and she started on her

narrative.
"Madame knows a secret about Antonia Ripley."
"Of what nature?"
"It concerns her parentage."
"And that is?"
The woman hesitated and writhed.
"The names of her parents, please," said Vandeleur, in a voice cold as
ice and hard as iron.
"Her father was Italian by birth."
"His name?"
"Count Gioletti. He was unhappily married, and stabbed his English
wife in an access of jealousy when Antonia was three years old. He vas
executed for the crime on the 20th of June, 18--. The child was adopted
and taken out of the country by an English lady who was present in
court--her name was Mrs. Studley. Madame Sara was also present. She
was much interested in the trial, and had an interview afterwards with
Mrs. Studley. It was arranged that Antonia should be called by the
surname of Ripley--the name of an old relative of Mrs. Studley's--and
that her real name and history were never to be told to her."
"I understand," said Vandeleur, gently. "This is of deep interest, is it
not, Druce?"
I nodded, too much absorbed in watching the face of the woman to
have time for words.
"But now," continued Vandeleur, "there are reasons why Madame
should change her mind with regard to keeping the matter a close
secret---is that not so, Mrs. Curt?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Curt.
"You will have the kindness to continue."
"Madame has an object--she blackmails the signora. She wants to get
the signora completely into her power."
"Indeed! Is she succeeding?"
"Yes."
"How has she managed? Be very careful what you say, please."
"The mode is subtle--the young lady had a disfiguring mole or wart on
her neck, just below the throat. Madame removed the mole."
"Quite a simple process, I doubt not," said Vandeleur, in a careless
tone.
"Yes, it was done easily--I was present. The young lady was conducted
into a chamber with a red light."
Vandeleur's extraordinary eyes suddenly leapt into fire. He took a chair
and drew it so close to Mrs. Curt's that his face was within a foot or two
of hers.
"Now, you will be very careful what you say," he remarked. "You
know the consequence to yourself unless this narrative is absolutely
reliable."
She began to tremble, but continued:--
"I was present at the operation. Not a single ray of ordinary light was
allowed to penetrate. The patient was put under chloroform. The mole
was removed. Afterwards Madame wrote something on her neck. The
words were very small and neatly done--they formed a cross on the
young lady's neck. Afterwards I heard what they were."
"Repeat them."

"I can't. You will know in the moment of victory."
"I choose to know now! A detective from my division at Westminster
comes here early to-morrow morning--he brings hand-cuffs--and----"
"I will tell you,' interrupted the woman. "The words were these:--
"'I AM THE DAUGHTER OF PAOLO GIOLETTI, WHO WAS
EXECUTED FOR THE MURDER OF MY MOTHER, JUNE 20TH,
18--.'"
"How were the words written?"
"With nitrate of silver."
"Fiend!" muttered Vandeleur.
He jumped up and began to pace the room. I had never seen his face so
black with ungovernable rage.
"You know what this means?" he said at last to me. "Nitrate of silver
eats into the flesh and is permanent. Once exposed to the light the case
is hopeless, and the helpless child becomes her own executioner."
The nurse looked up restlessly.
"The operation was performed in a room