Aunt Sophie's Diamonds (13 page)

"Everyone knows about him. He's been laying siege to your mama any time these two years. The wonder of it is that she doesn't capitulate. Not a bad-looking fellow and loaded with blunt. Is he here then?"

"No, he's coming."

"How do you know this?"

"That's not important. The thing is, we must get them before he arrives, for he is
huge,
you know, and an ironmonger, so he knows all about metals, mama says."

"I never knew him to be a felon."

"A felon! But he would be doing it for mama, and I suppose she is no more a felon than we are, for she only wants to get the diamonds for herself, as Luane does,” Claudia defended.

"My dear girl! Are you really so green as you seem?” Sir Hillary asked. “You must know Luane cannot
keep
the diamonds, even if she manages to get them out of the grave. Till the year is up, they must be held in trust by Fletcher and myself to see what Sophie had in mind to be done with them. I can understand your craving the adventure of going after them, and in fact it's not a bad idea to get them put away safely, but I made sure
you
knew Loo couldn't keep them."

"You only meant to hand them over to Fletcher?” Claudia asked, her eyes like saucers. “I can't believe you to be serious. I took you for our friend."

"I hope I am."

"Well, you are not, Lord Turn-about. Like all inhabitants of Fair-speech, you are nothing but a deceiver."

"I
beg
your pardon?"

"I daresay you never read a Christian book! Well, I have taken up enough of your precious time,” she said, making to push past him to the door.

"One moment, please,” he said, grabbing her wrist. “I had no notion you were serious, but I can at least assure you that no one else, including Mr. Blandings, will get the diamonds. The guard has been hired, and he is
not
Tim Larriman, but a very reliable fellow, who will patrol with a gun and a pair of ferocious dogs."

"You
beast!
How are we to get past a gun and
two
dogs?"

"You cannot mean to try, just you two girls. I assure you Gabriel will not accompany you another time."

"Another Lord Turn-about!"

There was a sound at the door, and Luane entered. “Did you tell him?” she asked her cousin.

Claudia cast a fulminating eye on Sir Hillary and said, “He does not mean to help us, but rather hinder us by having set an armed man with two wild beasts to guard the grave."

"Sir Hillary, you have not done anything so shabby!” Luane declared.

"He did, and furthermore he never intended to let you keep the diamonds if we did get them, but only to hold them till the year is up and then meekly hand them over to whoever was supposed to get them."

"I can't believe this is true,” Loo said, staring. “Tell me it's not true, Sir Hillary."

"Do you think I want to see you both in Newgate? What do you think would be the penalty for stealing fifty thousand pounds?"

"Stealing from a grave!” Luane retorted.

"Sophie can never have meant for them to remain there permanently. You may be sure she has some other end in mind for them. They may be intended for Miss Milmont, for all we know."

"I don't want them,” Claudia said immediately. “I think they are excessively ugly.” She looked down at the set she wore round her neck as she spoke.

"And excessively valuable. If you think for one moment your mother would allow you to disclaim your interest in them, I must believe you to be more foolish than seems possible."

"She would never have left them to
me,"
Claudia stated firmly. “I never met her till two minutes before she died. She didn't even
know
me."

"She only meant to make mischief,” Loo snapped.

"And how well she has succeeded,” Hillary remarked, frowning. “We can't stay here any longer. We'll discuss this again tomorrow."

"Before you go,” Luane said, “who is the man hired to guard the grave?"

"His name is Bronfman, an ex-soldier, retired from Wellington's army because of losing a leg. An excellent shot."

"He no longer lives in the village."

"He will, starting tomorrow. Fletcher was in touch with him in Maldon, and he has agreed to take the job. And I cannot think you two can manage the job in one night, with no preparation.” With this speech he turned and left the room, feeling he had in some manner treated them very badly, though he had only done what was right and sensible.

"I was never so deceived in anyone in my life,” Luane said to her cousin. “The man with the dogs comes tomorrow, so tonight it will be only Tim Larriman, or maybe even no one. How are we to do it? We cannot possibly get the coffin out."

"No, we'd have to open it there, and we have no equipment."

"I shouldn't have the least notion how to manage a torch in any case,” Loo fretted.

"Is the blacksmith a possible ally, if we paid him?"

"We have nothing to pay him with, and anyway he is a friend of Sir Hillary's, and has naturally no imagination. He would report us to the constable the moment we approached him."

"How then? Could the lock be filed open, I wonder? If it is only one of those bolts that shoots across like the kitchen door at Swallowcourt it could he done. Did Gabriel say how it was sealed?"

"No, he said only that it was a sealed coffin, and if I try to find out from him now, he will go running to Sir Hillary."

"We must give it a try. We'll take an axe and file, and see if we can't get it open."

"Sir Hillary has all kinds of tools in a workshop off the kitchen. If we could sneak down there we might find just what we need, if only we knew what the thing looked like, that we shall need—the torch thing."

"It would be justice if we could use his tools. How does one get to this workshop?"

"There's a little stairway at the far end of the corridor just outside this door. The workshop is right there at the bottom of the stairs,” Loo said.

"Would it be locked?"

"No, why should he lock up a bunch of hammers and saws?"

"Let's go right now and see if we can find something."

"Yes, and we can just chuck the things outside the door, for there is a door leading right into the backyard, and we can pick them up on the way to the graveyard later tonight."

Their discussion was interrupted by Gabriel, come to ask them to play some music for the guests.

"Are you against us too?” Luane asked him, ignoring the mention of music.

"Sir Hillary is right, Loo. He always is, you know. It would be illegal, and..."

"And you are afraid of him,” Loo scoffed. “What a coward! You were right, Claudia. How could I have considered marrying this poltroon?"

"Dash it, Loo, you know I'd help you if it would do the least bit of good. But with that Bronfman fellow coming..."

"I understand,” Lao said in a frigid voice, her face hard as granite.

"No, you
don't
understand! You couldn't keep the diamonds if we did manage to get them, and anyway I don't see how we could."

"The coffin was
all
sealed up, was it?” Claudia asked, attempting to make it sound nonchalant.

"There was a lock an inch around. I never saw such a one in my life before."

"A bolt-type lock?” she asked.

"Yes, and welded shut."

Miss Milmont could not envisage exactly what this meant, but a lock, even an inch in diameter, could be filed through with time and patience.

Annoyed at their prolonged absence, Sir Hillary came to the door. “Everyone would like to hear some music,” he said. Three irate pairs of eyes turned on him. “Are they seducing you, Gaby?” he asked. “It is quite futile, ladies. Gabriel agrees with me on the folly of your scheme. Come along."

Their compliance with this request was of so dallying and sullen a nature that the music coming out of it promised to be indifferent at best. They were accompanied to the music room, where Miss Bliss and Mrs. Milmont were already seated. “I'll slip down to the workshop while you play,” Claudia whispered to Loo. Then turning aside to Thoreau she asked, “Could you direct me again to that chamber we used to wash up in the other evening? I see I have spilt some cream on my skirt and would like to sponge it out."

He took her to the hall and pointed out the way. “Shall I call a maid?"

This offering a great conflict to her true errand, she immediately recalled the exact location of the room and thanked him. She waited to see him walk off in another direction, wondering why he didn't return to the music room. No matter, he was gone, and she nipped smartly to the corridor Luane had pointed out. The captain, sitting near the door of the music room saw her turning down the corridor towards the library. He slipped silently from the room and followed her at a little distance.

The main portion of the house was well lit, and Miss Milmont was not prepared for the sudden plunge into nearly total darkness that confronted her when she was half-way down the staircase to the lower floor. She turned and went back to the library to get a candle. Across the hall, a door opened a crack and she fled to the staircase, but no one came out the door.

A servant seeing what's going on, she thought, for she had made no effort to be silent, thinking herself alone in that part of the house. Glancing back, she saw the door remained closed, and she tiptoed silently now back down the stairs with her lone taper flickering in the breeze. Her heart was in her throat as she pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs. She thought to find herself immediately in the workshop, but she was not. She stood in a long flagged area, with three doors opening off it, every one closed.

Luane had not explained that other activities than repairs were carried out here. The whole was dark and frightening. Her first inclination was to run back upstairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Surely Swallowcourt must have a file. This was madness to lurk about a cavernous, unknown, extremely dark corridor, hiding unimagined horrors behind every portal. The echo of lurid fiction reeled in her head; the skeleton behind the black veil, the eerie hand, not connected to any human form, the disembodied miasma of evil empowered with magic properties.

The taper in her hand trembled and she turned to leave, took one step, then heard a rustle behind her. Her heart rose from throat to mouth, and with every nerve on edge she peered fearfully over her shoulder. A slinky ginger cat glided from the shadows, brushed past her skirt in a supercilious manner, and scooted upstairs. It was such an anticlimax after expecting to see a ghost at least that her spirits raised a little, and she decided to try one door—the one closest to the bottom of the stairs, since Loo had said the workshop was there.

She pushed the door in, slowly, and held her taper high. She saw garden chairs and tables, empty flower pots, and long strings of Japanese lanterns, and realized she was in the storage area for the happy paraphernalia of summer. She closed the door. Should she try one more? They would be soon looking for her; she had thought it would be the work of a minute to throw a file out a door, but already several minutes had passed. With this poor shred of an excuse for her cowardice, she literally ran to the stairs, bolted up them to the corridor and safety.

Yet it did not appear so safe as formerly. Since her descent, someone, a servant presumably, had been around to extinguish the hall lights, and the darkness was still all around her but for her own single taper. She went to the study to return the candle, and it too was in total darkness. She chose a resting place near the door for the candle, blew it out, and reached up to put the holder on top of a pedestal holding a marble bust of some philosopher of yore. With a sigh of relief that the ordeal was over, even if a total failure, she turned to leave. And then it fell—a crashing blow on her left temple, and she crumpled to the floor. Just at the doorway to unconsciousness, she felt a strong pair of hands go around her neck.

In the music room, Luane sat at the pianoforte and Gabriel stood beside her, looking through music which they might perform together, for he had quite a fine tenor voice. Everyone was ready and waiting except Miss Milmont. Sir Hillary had taken up a seat beside Marcia and Miss Bliss, and Jonathon lounged in a chair at the end of the row.

"Now what can be keeping that girl of mine?” Marcia said, looking towards the door.

"She spilt something on her gown, and went to clean it off,” Hillary told her.

"The clumsy child! It is well she didn't wear her best gown. With this mourning come on us so unexpectedly, she hasn't a decent stitch to wear, I swear, for her gowns are all bright and lively, as becomes a young girl."

Thoreau stared at her with an unblinking eye and said nothing.

"What can be taking her such an age?” her mother demanded petulantly after another moment. “I'll send Luane after her.” She went to the pianoforte. Luane was not in the least averse to go after her cousin, and as no one observed her direction, she naturally headed towards the stairs leading to the workshop. As she passed down the dark passage she decided to return for a light, and as she once again proceeded down the corridor, she heard a low moan coming from the library. In an instant, she had discovered its source and ran for help.

"She's had an accident!” she shouted, hurrying into the music room, and from the excited state of the bearer of the news, no one took it for any minor mishap. Everyone jumped up and ran to the door.

"Oh, my poor baby!” Mrs. Milmont moaned, pulling out one of her monogrammed handkerchiefs. “What did she do, the silly goose, stumble on the stairs?"

"No, she's in the library."

"The library?” Thoreau asked and led the way towards it, with the others hustling after him. “Why are all the lights out?” he asked. “Gab, get these lamps lit."

Miss Milmont had achieved a sitting position by the time her helpers reached her, and had a hand to her throbbing head. Simultaneous enquiries from everyone sent her into a relapse, and she leaned against the shoulder closest to her. Sir Hillary had gone down on one knee and supported her.

"We must get her to a sofa,” he said, and lifted her from the floor. “Loo, fetch some wine,” he said over his shoulder, and he was given room to jostle past the onlookers. Deeming the Blue Saloon unsuitable, for they would all be hovering around and pestering her, he took her to a smaller parlor formerly used by his mama as a reading and sewing room. When Loo returned with the wine, Hillary told Gabriel to call for Dr. Hill.