gerard felt sick with alarm. a shop-lifter! although he was ashamed of his own fears, they overpowered him.

he asked himself what right he had to connect the arrest of a well-known shop-lifter with the presence of miss davison in that particular department of the stores where the theft appeared to have been detected. but even as he did so, and tried to think that he ought to be ashamed of his suspicions, he knew very well that they were justified; that the episode of the sparkling ornament passed by miss davison (or her “double”) to the man in the crowd on the night of the fête at lord chislehurst’s suggested inevitably that she was the person who was now to be arrested for theft.

the thought was horrible. even though, in this first moment of surprise and dismay, he had no doubts about her guilt, he was none the less as much distressed to think of the disgrace which awaited her as if she had been one of his own kin.

for the puzzle, the marvel of the situation was that although he could not help his strong suspicions of miss davison’s honesty, he knew her to be as pure-souled as it is possible for a human being to be, and[79] the conviction which had already been forming in his mind now grew stronger that she must be a kleptomaniac, and that she stole, if indeed she did steal, not from criminal intention, but by irresistible instinct.

of course this supposition did not account for everything. there were discrepancies in any story which he could make up to account for the strange behavior, the glaring inconsistencies of the beautiful girl who had roused his admiration and inspired him with an unconquerable passion.

she seemed far too sane and well-balanced a girl to be subject to mania of any kind, and it seemed to him extraordinary, if she were really a prey to a disease so acute and so distressing, that she had not been put under some sort of restraint, or at least that she was not constantly shadowed by some companion who could explain her idiosyncrasy and pay for the things she stole.

he had heard of such things being done in well-known cases of this kind, and he felt sure that she could not have become so expert as she evidently was without the fact of her tendencies becoming known to some, at least, of her friends.

but even while he argued thus with himself, hoping against hope that he could prove to himself that she was innocent of criminal intent, one circumstance after another obtruded itself upon his mind, all tending to confirm the fact that she was too artful, too deliberate[80] in her plans, for an innocent victim of instinct.

the sending of her mother to brighton, for instance, and the cleverness with which she played off mrs. davison and lady jennings, the one against the other, pretending to the one that she was staying with the other, when all the while she was absent on some mysterious and unexplained “business,” spoke, not of innocence, but of a very well developed and keen instinct for deceit of the most flagrant kind.

and, if her thefts were the result of kleptomania, where did her income come from? for her appropriation of other people’s property to be blameless it must be proved that she did not profit by it. whereas he knew that, without any occupation that could be traced to her, she made large sums of money!

and she had told him frankly that her character was not a lovable one, that there was a barrier between them which could never be passed.

strange to say, however, it was upon these words of hers and the manner and tone in which she said them, that gerard relied more than anything else for his own fixed and firm belief in her real innocence.

she was conscious that there was something in her character and conduct that would be disapproved of, and that would make an insurmountable obstacle between her and him. and yet she said this with an evident belief that she herself was justified in the course she held. and she was so grave, so sincere,[81] so entirely sane in manner and look during their talk, that gerard had felt convinced that the barrier of which she spoke was not one of the terrible character her actions would have led him to suppose.

and now—what was he to think?

the moment he heard the order given by one of the shop-walkers to a subordinate, to run for a policeman, he determined to wait outside to see what was going to happen.

he did not know what was the customary procedure on such occasions, but he imagined that a cab would be called, and that a small party, consisting of the accused person herself, one or more of the shop-assistants, and a policeman, would come out by one of the side-entrances, get in and drive off as quietly as possible to the nearest police-station, where the charge would be preferred.

he thought that perhaps, in such a case, he might be able to be of use, as he could offer to fetch her friends, and bring the necessary and usual testimony to her respectability.

in the meantime, however, he addressed himself to another assistant, who had overheard the order given to fetch the police, and asked him if such occurrences were common there.

the man seemed reluctant to speak, but said that they were very rare.

“i believe, however, sir,” he added, “that this is a bad case, and that we have at last succeeded in[82] catching a woman who has been doing this sort of thing systematically in the big london stores for a considerable time past. she dresses splendidly, and is altogether what we should call a very smart person, and nobody would suspect her of being a thief.”

gerard wondered whether he should press forward and present himself as a friend of the unhappy woman. but he reflected that this was impossible until he was absolutely, instead of morally, sure of her identity, and he had to content himself with his previously proposed course of conduct.

before he could carry out his intention, however, he saw the assistant come back with a policeman; and both men, amidst the whispers and questions of such of the customers as noticed the occurrence, passed hurriedly through one department after another, and disappeared into a private room into which all the rest of the persons interested in the affair had retired.

there was great excitement everywhere, which the assistants in vain tried to allay by assuring the customers that nothing of any consequence had taken place.

and in the midst of the excitement, a tall, thin man, tightly buttoned up in a frock-coat, and wearing a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, came quickly into the stores, and was led into the locked private room where the shop-lifter had been temporarily imprisoned.

gerard looked at him, noted his black beard, his silk hat, his professional manner, and wondered[83] whether he was a doctor called in to pronounce as to the sanity of the thief.

then, with a heavy heart, after watching the door of the private room for a few minutes, the young man went out into the street. there for a couple of hours he wandered up and down, without seeing anyone come out who appeared to have any connection with the unhappy incident of the afternoon.

he made the circuit of the building, going round to the back entrances, where nothing unusual appeared to have disturbed the peace of the neighborhood. he feared that the party might have gone to the police-station long since, escaping quietly by some little-known door in order to avoid attention.

at last the hour for closing the stores arrived, and the last customer having left, gerard watched the doors more keenly than ever, thinking that perhaps they would have decided not to leave the building until the customers had left.

just as the shutters were closing, he saw a lady step out quickly and make a dash for the four-wheeled cab that was waiting outside.

gerard uttered a low cry of surprise and relief.

it was rachel, and she was alone. he stepped forward quickly, and saw that she was allowed to come out by herself, and that there was no one in the cab, the door of which the commissionaire was holding open.

“miss davison!” cried gerard, with an air of[84] triumph, which made her stop short, startled, and turn quickly to look at him. for a moment she stood as if not knowing what she was doing, or at whom she was looking, and he saw that she was not pale with the healthy pallor of every day, which he had so often admired, but with a ghastly whiteness that looked sickly and distressing.

“oh,” she said faintly, “is it you, mr. buckland! why—surely”—she uttered the words slowly, pausing between them, as if collecting thoughts that had gone very far away, and slowly coming back to the life of every day again—“surely—you—have not—been waiting for me all this time!”

she looked scared, and stared into his face as if she would have penetrated to his inmost thoughts.

“i—i didn’t know what had become of you,” he stammered hoarsely. “i—i thought you meant to meet me outside.”

she started.

“so i did. i remember!” said she. and then, very sweetly, as if overcome with remorse, she said, “i’m so very, very sorry; but i forgot all about it. i have spent the whole afternoon, or at least nearly three hours of it, buying lace and frocks and things, and trying hats on! i’m so awfully ashamed of myself. do please forgive me.”

“let me send away this cab, and take you to tea[85] somewhere. you look done up,” said gerard, still speaking as if he hardly knew what he was about.

she hesitated and looked around her stealthily.

then she said shortly, in a faint voice—

“all right.”

gerard gave the cabman a shilling, and hailing a hansom, helped her in and told the man to drive to the nearest tea-shop.

then he jumped in after her, feeling his heart sink.

for the delight and relief of the first moment, when he had been ready to look upon her appearance by herself, a free woman, as a sign that she was innocent and that he had misjudged her, had given place to a dread that the danger was not over yet, and that she knew more about the affair of the shop-lifting than for the moment he had supposed.

they went along in silence, rachel closing her eyes as if too tired to talk, and gerard dumb with fear and distress, and a kind of desperate pity.

it was quite plain that she had been through a harassing time, much more distressing and fatiguing than an afternoon spent in trying on new clothes could possibly have been. so he left her in peace until they got out at the tea-shop, and even then he waited until she was refreshed, and until her natural pallor had returned to her cheek instead of the unhealthy flush which had succeeded to the ghastly whiteness he had at first noticed on meeting her.

[86]then it was she who, noting his eyes fixed upon her face with stealthy interest, asked him abruptly—

“why did you wait for me?”

he hesitated.

“i didn’t know how long you would be. i—i was not sure where you were,” he began. then changing his mind he said suddenly, “and something had happened at the stores to interest me—the shop-lifting.”

she looked at him steadily.

“what was that?” she asked.

but he lost his patience, and said curtly—

“oh you must know. why pretend you don’t?”

but miss davison had entirely recovered her self-possession by this time, and she leaned back in her chair, played with the glove she had taken off, and said—

“was that what all the fuss was about? the crowd and the crush round a private door at the back?”

“yes,” said he shortly.

“tell me all about it,” said she.

and suddenly leaning forward, she looked at him with an expression in which interest in his narrative was combined with perfect innocence as to the details to be related.

gerard did not know whether to be amazed, disgusted, or amused. this brazen attitude might either be considered shocking, perplexing, or simply whimsical, as one chose to look at it. he looked down,[87] and when he raised his head again, after being lost in thought for a few moments, he fancied he surprised upon miss davison’s beautiful face a sort of wistful look, as if she was sorry and ashamed of the attitude she had to take up, or at least that was the fancy that came into his head about it.

he dashed into his narrative abruptly when their eyes met.

“a woman was caught in the act of stealing something, i believe,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, but meeting with no shrinking in return; “and i learn that she is an old offender. a smartly dressed woman who goes about to the best shops, and is well-known, but whom, as i gathered, they’ve not been able to catch before.”

“and have they caught her now?” asked miss davison innocently. he stammered and grew red.

“they—they seemed to think so,” he said, in a voice that was not steady.

“did you see her?”

“if i did it was without knowing that she was a shop-lifter,” said he.

“kleptomaniac, they call that sort of woman nowadays,” observed miss davison lightly. “she will get off, depend upon it. some old doctor will swear to her being in ill health and not responsible for her actions. oh, that’s what they always say.”

gerard remembered the man with the black beard and the gold-rimmed spectacles, and sat back reflectively.[88] was miss davison merely relating what had already happened? had she waited calmly while they went for a doctor, and had he then examined her and at once pronounced her as wanting in balance and not responsible for her actions?

it seemed like it.

“but they say she has done it before!”

“and got off before in the same way, no doubt,” said miss davison quietly. “watch the papers for the next few days, and you will find nothing about the case, i’ll answer for it.”

“did they tell you so at the stores?” asked he dryly, and with emphasis which he did not try to hide.

“i know by what i have seen before of these cases,” she replied evasively. “it doesn’t do any good to the shops to have these things known, because there’s always some sort of doubt thrown upon the case by the other side and people are led to believe that there’s been undue harshness in pressing the charge.”

gerard listened in confusion. had she reckoned upon these things, and so felt sure that she would escape the disgrace of arrest, trial, and conviction?

“are they unduly harsh in this case?” he asked.

“how should i know? these people keep affairs like that quiet, and a casual customer like myself hears nothing about it except by chance, unless it gets into the papers, which, as i tell you, it very seldom does. london is full of well-dressed thieves, and a good many of them steal for pleasure, and hoard what they[89] steal. when they get found out, the usual way of dealing with them is to make them pay for what they have robbed the tradesman of, as they can always do easily enough. i’m quite sure nobody knows how much of that sort of thing goes on. it’s very rarely you find such a case in the papers, very common to meet with them outside.”

she spoke simply, as if upon a matter with which she had nothing to do, but on which she was able to supply information, and did so because he appeared interested in it.

“and what degree of guilt do you ascribe to them?” he asked abruptly. “are they conscious of what they are doing, and aware that they are committing crime?”

a faint smile flickered over miss davison’s face.

“some of them,” she answered rather dryly, “are very well aware of it, indeed.”

there was an awkward pause. presently he caught a strange glance from miss davison; she suddenly looked at him in a frightened way, as if she thought her last words had contained a confession, and was anxious to qualify them. but before she could speak, he said—

“what makes them do these things then? what makes an honorable woman who is not in want, stoop to such meanness, such despicable dishonesty?”

he spoke with great warmth, his eyes flashing, his fists clenched. he was torn with conflicting feelings,[90] perplexity, horror, pity, contempt, and through it all he wondered whether it could be true, and whether this lovely woman with the frank face, the straightforward manner, the noble aims, the steadfast heart, could really be guilty of the abominable crime of theft.

she hesitated and looked down. in her face there was a strange expression which he could not understand. it might be shame alone, or sullen anger, or fear, or a compound of all three. all he could be sure of was that it was infinitely painful for him to watch her, and to know that it was his words which were inflicting upon her a torture which, whether deserved or not, was none the less distressing for him to cause.

for he loved her; in spite of the fears, doubts, certainties even, which tormented him concerning her, he was ready to believe impossibilities, to trust her honesty and truth in spite of everything, to say to himself that there was no trace of the criminal in her; and that, if indeed these larcenies could be brought home to her, as he prayed that they could not be, then that they were the result of some overpowering impulse of which she was ashamed, and which the doctor who was called in by the people at the stores, had been able to explain and account for.

after a silence which appeared long to both, miss davison raised her head to reply to his questions. but as she began to speak, her eyes were evidently attracted by some object behind him, and he perceived,[91] as she uttered some commonplace words, instead of saying what he was anxious to hear that she was intent upon something else and was no longer giving him her attention.

he saw, indeed, a slight raising of her eyebrows, which he took to be a sign to some person behind him. turning quickly, gerard was just in time to see a well-dressed man behind him, in the place to which her eyes had been directed.

the man’s back was turned. gerard watched him in the hope that he would turn round and show his face; but instead of doing so, the man went straight out of the shop and disappeared in the crowd outside.

when gerard turned around again, miss davison was on her feet.

“i don’t know what poor lady jennings will say,” she cried, “at my being late for dinner, as i can’t help being. i must make all the haste i can.”

“i’ll get you a cab,” said gerard rather coldly.

he was, in spite of himself, roused to fresh suspicion by this apparent collusion between rachel and the man who had gone out of the shop. he went out with her, put her into a passing cab, and, by her direction, gave the driver lady jennings’ address. there was some reassurance in this, that she was going back home, and he tried to find comfort in the fact, saying to himself that if she had been in any fear of being followed or arrested, she would not have done this.

[92]when she had driven away, he was about to continue his own journey back to his rooms, when a girl ran out of the tea-shop with a cloak which he recognized as the handsome one he had admired on rachel’s arm.

“the lady left this, sir,” said the girl.

he took it with inward satisfaction, for it afforded him exactly the excuse he wanted for going to lady jennings’ house, to find out whether rachel had really returned there, as she had apparently proposed to do.

he was half ashamed of himself for his mistrust, well founded as it was, as he got into a hansom and drove away.