there was something in the air that was electrical, and mary maxell felt it as she sat at supper with sir john and his wife. maxell was unusually silent and his wife amazingly so. she was nervous and almost jumped when a remark was addressed to her. the old truculence which distinguished her every word and action, her readiness to take offence, to see a slight in the most innocent remark, and her combativeness generally, had disappeared; she was almost meek when she replied to her husband’s questions.
“i just went round shopping and then decided to call on a girl i had known a long time ago. she lives in the country, and i felt so nervous and depressed this morning that i thought a ride in a taxi would do me good.”
“why didn’t you take our car?” asked the other.
“i didn’t decide until the last moment to go out to her, and then i went by train one way.”
sir john nodded.
“i’m glad you went into the fresh air,” he said, “it will do you good. the country is not so beautiful as honolulu, but it is not without its attractions.”
it was unusual for the judge to be sarcastic, but it was less usual for lady maxell to accept sarcasm without a retort. to mary’s surprise she made no reply, though a faint smile curved those straight lips of hers for a second.
“do you think it was a burglar last night?” she asked suddenly.
“good heavens, no!” said maxell. “burglars do not shoot up the house they burgle.”
“do you think it is safe to have all this money in the house?” she asked.
“perfectly safe,” he said. “i do not think that need alarm you.”
no further reference was made to the matter, and presently sir john went up to his study. mrs. maxell did not go to the parlour, but drew a chair to the fire in the dining-room and read, and the girl followed her example. presently the elder woman left the room and was gone a quarter of an hour before she returned.
“mary,” she said, so sweetly that the girl was startled, “such an annoying thing has happened—i have lost the key of my wardrobe. you borrowed one of sir john’s duplicates the other day—where did you put the ring?”
john maxell was a methodical and systematic man. he had a duplicate set of all the keys in the house, and these as a rule were kept in a small wall-safe in his own bedroom. he had never invited his wife to use that receptacle, but she had a shrewd idea that the combination which was denied to her had been given to the girl.
mary hesitated.
“don’t you think if you asked uncle——”
“my dear,” smiled the lady, “if i went to him now, he’d never forgive me. if you know where the keys are, be an angel and get them for me.”
the girl rose, and lady maxell followed her upstairs. her own room was next to her husband’s and communicated, but the door was invariably locked on maxell’s side. presently the girl came in to her.
“here they are,” she said. “please let me put them back quickly. i feel very guilty at having taken them at all without his permission.”
“and for goodness’ sake don’t tell him,” said lady maxell, examining the keys.
at last she found the one she wanted, but was a long time in the process. she opened her bureau and the girl took the big key-ring from her hand with such evident relief that lady maxell laughed.
it had been easier than she thought and unless she made a blunder, the key she had selected from the bunch while she was fumbling at the bureau, would make just the difference—just the difference.
it was not customary for sir john to come down from his study to enjoy the ladies’ company after dinner, but on this evening he made an exception to his rule. he found his wife and ward reading, one on each side of the fireplace. lady maxell looked up when her husband came in.
“here is a curious story, john,” she said. “i think it must be an american story, about a woman who robbed her husband and the police refused to arrest her.”
“there’s nothing curious about that,” said the lawyer, “in law a wife cannot rob her husband or a husband his wife.”
“so that if you came to my honolulu estate and stole my pearls,” she said banteringly, “i could not have you arrested.”
“except for walking in my sleep!” he said smilingly, and they both laughed together.
he had never seen her so amiable, and for the first time that day—it had been a very trying and momentous day—he had his misgivings. she, with the memory of her good day’s work, the excellent terms she had arranged with the skipper of the lord lawrence, due to leave southampton for cadiz at daylight the next morning, had no misgivings at all, especially when she thought of a key she had placed under her pillow. she had had the choice of two boats, the lord lawrence and the saffi, but the saffi’s voyage would have been a long one, and its port of destination might hold discomfort which she had no wish to experience.
the household retired at eleven o’clock, and it was past midnight before sadie maxell heard her husband’s door close, and half an hour later before the click of the switch told her that his light had been extinguished.
he was a ready sleeper, but she gave him yet another half-hour before she opened the door of her bedroom and stepped out into the black corridor. she moved noiselessly towards the study, her only fear being that the baronet had locked the door before he came out. but this fear was not well founded, and the door yielded readily to her touch. she was dressed, and carried only a small attaché case filled with the bare necessities for the voyage.
she pushed the catch of her electric lamp, located the safe and opened it with no difficulty. she found herself surprisingly short of breath, and her heart beat at such a furious rate that she thought it must be audible to everybody in the house. the envelope with the money lay at the bottom of the others, and she transferred its contents to her attaché case in a few seconds.
then her heart stood still. . . .
it was only the faintest creak she heard, but it came from a corner of the room where the door leading to the cupboard stairway was placed. she saw a faint grey line of light appear—the stairway had a glass roof and admitted enough light to show her that the door was slowly opening. she had to bite her lips to stop herself from screaming. to make her escape or to rouse sir john was impossible, and she opened the attaché case again, and with trembling fingers felt for the little revolver which she had taken from her drawer. she felt safer now, yet she had not the courage to switch on the light.
she saw the figure of a man silhouetted in the opening, then the door closed, and her terror bred of itself a certain courage.
she flashed the light full on his face. the dead silence was broken when she whispered:
“oh, god! benson!”
“who’s that?” he whispered, and snatched the torch from her hand.
he looked at her long and curiously, and then:
“i expected to find that maxell had taken most of my possessions,” he said, “but i never thought he would take my wife!”
“let us see what all this is about,” boomed the big voice of john maxell almost in the man’s ear, he was so close, and suddenly the room was flooded with light.
