The Ripening Rubies | Page 4

nor go back; but when the press was somewhat relieved, and
she made an effort to progress, her dress caught in a spike of the
iron-work, and the top of a panel of silk which went down one side of it
was ripped open and left hanging. For a minute she did not notice the
mishap; but as the torn panel of silk fell away slightly from the more
substantial portion of her dress, I observed, pinned to the inner side of

it, a large crescent brooch of diamonds. In the same instant she turned
with indescribable quickness, and made good the damage. But her face
was scarlet in the flush of its colour; and she looked at me with
questioning eyes.
"What a miserable accident," she said. "I have spoilt my gown."
"Have you?" said I sympathetically, "I hope it was not my
clumsiness--but really there doesn't seem much damage done. Did you
tear it in front?"
There was need of very great restraint in saying this. Though I stood
simply palpitating with amazement, and had to make some show of
examining her gown, I knew that even an ill-judged word might undo
the whole good of the amazing discovery, and deprive me of that which
appeared to be one of the most astounding stories of the year. To put an
end to the interview, I asked her laughingly if she would not care to see
one of the maids upstairs; and she jumped at the excuse, leaving me
upon the landing to watch her hurriedly mounting to the bedroom
storey above.
When she was gone, I went back to the conservatory and drank a cup of
tea, always the best promoter of clear thought; and for some ten
minutes I turned the thing over in my mind. Who was Mrs. Sibyl
Kavanagh, and why had she sewn a brooch of brilliants to the inside of
a panel of her gown--sewn it in a place where it was as safely hid from
sight as though buried in the Thames? A child could have given the
answer--but a child would have overlooked many things which were
vital to the development of the unavoidable conclusion of the discovery.
The brooch that I had seen corresponded perfectly with the crescent of
which Lady Dunholme was robbed--yet it was a brooch which a
hundred women might have possessed; and if I had simply stepped
down and told Lady Faber, "the thief you are entertaining is Mrs. Sibyl
Kavanagh," a slander action with damages had trodden upon the heels
of the folly. Yet I would have given a hundred pounds to have been
allowed full inspection of the whole panel of the woman's dress--and I
would have staked an equal sum that there had been found in it the
pendant of the ripening rubies; a pendant which seemed to me the one

certain clue that would end the series of jewel robberies, and the
colossal mystery of the year. Now, however, the woman had gone
upstairs to hide in another place whatever she had to hide; and for the
time it was unlikely that a sudden searching of her dress would add to
my knowledge.
A second cup of tea helped me still further on my path. It made quite
clear to me the fact that the woman was the recipient of the stolen
jewels, rather than the actual taker of them. She, clearly, could not use
the scissors which had severed Lady Faber's pendant from the ruby belt.
A skilful man had in all probability done that--but which man, or
perhaps men? I had long felt that the season's robberies were the work
of many hands. Chance had now marked for me one pair; but it was
vastly more important to know the others. The punishment of the
woman would scarce stop the widespread conspiracy; the arrest of her
for the possession of a crescent brooch, hid suspiciously it is true, but a
brooch of a pattern which abounded in every jeweller's shop from
Kensington to Temple Bar, would have been consummate lunacy. Of
course, I could have taken cab to Scotland Yard, and have told my tale;
but with no other support, how far would that have availed me? If the
history of the surpassingly strange case were to be written, I knew that I
must write it, and lose no moment in the work.
I had now got a sufficient grip upon the whole situation to act
decisively, and my first step was to re-enter the ball-room, and take a
partner for the next waltz. We had made some turns before I discovered
that Mrs. Kavanagh was again in the room, dancing with her usual dash,
and seemingly in no way moved by the mishap. As we passed in the
press, she even