The Hand in the Dark | Page 9

for one of his tours into the wilds of the world, not to
return to England until five years had elapsed. Their mutual attraction
was the attraction of opposites. There was nothing in common except
mutual esteem between a wild, tempestuous being like Musard, who
rushed through life like a whirlwind, for ever seeking new scenes in
primitive parts of the earth, and the tranquil mistress of the moat-house,
who had rarely been outside her native county, and revolved in the
same little circle year after year, happy in her artless country pursuits
and simple pleasures.
Of late years, Musard had spent most of his brief stays in England with
the Herediths. He had his own home, which was not far from the
moat-house, but he was a companionable man, and preferred the warm
welcome and kindly society of his old friends to the solitary existence
of a bachelor at Brandreth Hall, as his own place was named.
He had recently returned to England after a year's wanderings in the
southern hemisphere, and had arrived at the moat-house on the previous
day, bringing with him a dried alligator's head with gaping jaws, a
collection of rare stuffed birds and snakeskins for Phil, who had a taste
in that direction, and a carved tiki god for Miss Heredith. He had also
brought with him his Chinese servant, two kea parrots, and a mat of
white feathers from the Solomon Islands, which he used on his bed
instead of an eiderdown quilt when the nights were cold. He had left in

his London banker's strong room his latest collection of precious stones,
after forwarding anonymously to Christie's a particularly fine pearl as a
donation towards the British Red Cross necklace.
Musard's present stay at the moat-house was to be a brief one. The
British Government, on learning of his return to his native land, had
asked him to go over to the front to adjust some trouble which had
arisen between the head-men of a Kaffir labour compound. As
Musard's wide knowledge of African tribes rendered him peculiarly
fitted for such a task, he had willingly complied with the request, and
was to go to France on the following day.
Miss Heredith had taken advantage of his brief visit to consult him
about the Heredith pearl necklace--a piece of jewellery which was
perhaps more famous than valuable, as some of the pearls were nearly
three hundred years old. Sir Philip had given it to Violet when she
married Phil. But Violet had locked it away in her jewel-case and never
worn it. She had said, only the night before, that the setting of the clasp
was old-fashioned, and the pearls dull with age. Miss Heredith,
although much hurt, had realized that there was some truth in the
complaint, and she had asked Musard for his advice. Musard had
expressed the opinion that perhaps the pearls were in need of the
delicate operation known as "skinning," and had offered to take the
necklace to London and obtain the opinion of a Hatton Garden expert
of his acquaintance.
Vincent Musard smiled at Miss Heredith in friendly fashion as he
entered the dining-room, and Sir Philip greeted his sister with polite,
but somewhat vague courtesy. Sir Philip's manner to everybody was
distinguished by perfect urbanity, which was so impersonal and
unvarying as to suggest that it was not so much a compliment to those
upon whom it was bestowed as a duty which he felt he owed to himself
to perform with uniform exactitude.
Musard began to talk about the arrangements for his departure the
following day, and asked Tufnell about the trains. On learning that the
first train to London was at eight o'clock, he expressed his intention of
catching it.

"Is it necessary for you to go so early, Vincent?" inquired Miss
Heredith. "Could you not take a later train?"
"I daresay I could. Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking about the necklace. Violet was too unwell to give it to
me to-night, and she may not be awake so early in the morning. I
should like you to take it with you, if it could be managed."
"I can take a later train. It will suit me as well."
"Is Violet unable to go with us to the Weynes' to-night?" said Sir Philip,
glancing at his sister.
"Yes; her head is too bad."
"It is a pity we have to go without her, as the party is given in her
honour. Of course, we must go."
"Where is her necklace?" asked Musard. "Is it in the safe?"
"No," replied Miss Heredith. "It is in Violet's room, in her jewel-case."
"Well, as Mrs. Heredith will be alone in the house to-night, I think it
would be wise if you locked it in the safe,"