The Golden Scorpion | Page 9

bent over the table and tried three of
the keys in the lock of the drawer which contained Stuart's cheque-book and in which he
had recently placed the mysterious gold ornament. The third key fitted the lock, and Mlle.
Dorian pulled open the drawer. She discovered first the cheque-book and next a private
account-book; then from under the latter she drew out a foolscap envelope sealed with
red wax and bearing, in Stuart's handwriting, the address:
Lost Property Office, Metropolitan Police, New Scotland Yard, S. W. I.
She uttered a subdued exclamation; then, as a spark of light gleamed within the open
drawer, she gazed as if stupefied at the little ornament which she had suddenly perceived
lying near the cheque-book. She picked it up and stared at it aghast. A moment she
hesitated; then, laying down the fragment of gold and also the long envelope upon the
table, she took up the telephone. Keeping her eyes fixed upon the closed door of the study,
she asked for the number East 89512, and whilst she waited for the connection continued
that nervous watching and listening. Suddenly she began to speak, in a low voice.
"Yes! ... Miska speaks. Listen! One of the new keys--it fits. I have the envelope. But, also
in the same drawer, I find a part of a broken gold 'agrab (scorpion). Yes, it is broken. It
must be they find it, on him." Her manner grew more and more agitated. "Shall I bring it?
The envelope it is very large. I do not know if----"
From somewhere outside the house came a low, wailing cry--a cry which Stuart, if he had
heard it, must have recognized to be identical with that which he had heard in the
night--but which he had forgotten to record in his written account.
"Ah!" whispered the girl--"there is the signal! It is the doctor who returns." She listened
eagerly, fearfully, to the voice which spoke over the wires. "Yes--yes!"
Always glancing toward the door, she put down the instrument, took up the long
envelope and paused for a moment, thinking that she had heard the sound of approaching
footsteps. She exhibited signs of nervous indecision, tried to thrust the envelope into her
little bag and realized that even folded it would not fit so as to escape observation. She
ran across to the grate and dropped the envelope upon the smouldering fire. As she did so,
the nicely balanced poker fell with a clatter upon the tiled hearth.
She started wildly, ran back to the table, took up the broken ornament and was about to
thrust it into the open drawer, when the study door was flung open and Stuart came in.

CHAPTER V
THE SEALED ENVELOPE
"MADEMOISELLE DORIAN!" cried Stuart joyously, advancing with outstretched hand.
She leaned back against the table watching him--and suddenly he perceived the open

drawer. He stopped. His expression changed to one of surprise and anger, and the girl's
slim fingers convulsively clutched the table edge as she confronted him. Her exquisite
colour fled and left her pallid, dark-eyed and dismayed.
"So," he said bitterly--"I returned none too soon, Mlle.--Dorian"
"Oh! she whispered, and shrank from him as he approached nearer.
"Your object in selecting an obscure practitioner for your medical adviser becomes
painfully evident to me. Diagnosis of your case would have been much more easy if I had
associated your symptoms with the presence in my table drawer of"--he hesitated--"of
something which you have taken out. Give me whatever you have stolen and compose
yourself to await the arrival of the police."
He was cruel in his disillusionment. Here lay the explanation of his romance; here was
his disguised princess--a common thief! She stared at him wildly.
"I take nothing!" she cried. "Oh, let me go! Please, please let me go!"
"Pleading is useless. What have you stolen?"
"Nothing--see." She cast the little gold ornament on the table. "I look at this, but I do not
mean to steal it."
She raised her beautiful eyes to his face again, and he found himself wavering. That she
had made his acquaintance in order to steal the fragment of the golden scorpion was
impossible, for he had not possessed it at the time of her first visit. He was hopelessly
mystified and utterly miserable.
"How did you open the drawer?" he asked sternly.
She took up the bunch of keys which lay upon the table and naively exhibited that which
fitted the lock of the drawer. Her hands were shaking.
"Where did you obtain this key; and why?"
She watched him intently, her lips trembling and her eyes wells of sorrow into which he
could not gaze unmoved.
"If I tell you--will you let me go?"
"I shall make no promises, for I can believe nothing