The Eustace Diamonds (51 page)
Read The Eustace Diamonds Online
Authors: Anthony Trollope
âIt's very good of you, but I'd heard it already. I was telling Miss Morris yesterday what very odd things there are being said about it.'
âWeren't you very much frightened?' asked Lucy.
âYou see, my child, I knew nothing about it till it was all over.
The man cut the bit out of the door in the most beautiful way, without my ever hearing the least sound of the saw.'
âAnd you that sleep so light,' said the countess.
âThey say that perhaps something was put into the wine at dinner to make me sleep.'
âAh,' ejaculated the countess, who did not for a moment give up her own erroneous suspicion; â âvery likely.'
âAnd they do say these people can do things without making the slightest tittle of noise. At any rate, the box was gone.'
âAnd the diamonds?' asked Lucy.
âOh yes; â of course. And now there is such a fuss about it! The police keep on coming to me almost every day.'
âAnd what do the police think?' asked Lady Linlithgow. âI'm told that they have their suspicions.'
âNo doubt they have their suspicions,' said Lizzie.
âYou travelled up with friends, I suppose.'
âOh yes â with Lord George de Bruce Carruthers; and with Mrs Carbuncle â who is my particular friend, and with Lucinda Roanoke, who is just going to be married to Sir Griffin Tewett. We were quite a large party.'
âAnd Macnulty?'
âNo. I left Miss Macnulty at Portray with my darling. They thought he had better remain a little longer in Scotland.'
âAh yes; â perhaps Lord George de Bruce Carruthers does not care for babies. I can easily believe that. I wish Macnulty had been with you.'
âWhy do you wish that?' said Lizzie, who already was beginning to feel the countess intended, as usual, to make herself disagreeable.
âShe's a stupid, dull, pig-headed creature; but one can believe what she says.'
âAnd don't you believe what I say?' demanded Lizzie.
âIt's all true, no doubt, that the diamonds are gone.'
âIndeed it is.'
âBut I don't know much about Lord George de Bruce Carruthers.'
âHe's the brother of a marquis, anyway,' said Lizzie, who
thought that she might thus best answer the mother of a Scotch earl.
âI remember when he was plain George Carruthers, running about the streets of Aberdeen, and it was well with him when his shoes weren't broken at the toes and down at heel. He earned his bread then, such as it was; nobody knows how he gets it now. Why does he call himself de Bruce, I wonder.'
âBecause his godfathers and godmothers gave him that name when he was made a child of Christ, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven,' said Lizzie, ever so pertly.
âI don't believe a bit of it.'
âI wasn't there to see, Aunt Susanna; and therefore I can't swear to it. That's his name in all the peerages, and I suppose they ought to know.'
âAnd what does Lord George de Bruce say about the diamonds?'
Now it had come to pass that Lady Eustace herself did not feel altogether sure that Lord George had not had an hand in this robbery. It would have been a trick worthy of a genuine Corsair to arrange and carry out such a scheme for the appropriation of so rich a spoil. A watch or a brooch would, of course, be beneath the notice of a good genuine Corsair â of a Corsair who was written down in the peerage as a marquis's brother; â but diamonds worth ten thousand pounds are not to be had every day. A Corsair must live, and if not by plunder rich as that â how then? If Lord George had concocted this little scheme, he would naturally be ignorant of the true event of the robbery till he should meet the humble executors of his design, and would, as Lizzie thought, have remained unaware of the truth till his arrival in London. That he had been ignorant of the truth during the journey was evident to her. But they had now been three days in London, during which she had seen him once. At that interview he had been sullen, and almost cross â and had said next to nothing about the robbery. He made but one remark about it. âI have told the chief man here,' he said, âthat I shall be ready to give any evidence in my power when called upon. Till then I shall take no further steps in the matter. I have been asked questions that should not have been asked.' In saying this he had used a tone which prevented further
conversation on the subject, but Lizzie, as she thought of it, remembered his jocular remark, made in the railway carriage, as to the suspicion which had already been expressed on the matter in regard to himself. If he had been the perpetrator, and had then found he had only stolen the box, how wonderful would be the mystery! âHe hasn't got anything to say,' replied Lizzie to the question of the countess.
âAnd who is your Mrs Carbuncle?' asked the old woman.
âA particular friend of mine with whom I am staying at present. You don't go about a great deal, Aunt Linlithgow, but surely you must have met Mrs Carbuncle.'
âI'm an ignorant old woman, no doubt. My dear, I'm not at all surprised at your losing your diamonds. The pity is that they weren't your own.'
âThey were my own.'
âThe loss will fall on you, no doubt, because the Eustace people will make you pay for them. You will have to give up half your jointure for your life. That's what it will come to. To think of your travelling about with those things in a box!'
âThey were my own, and I had a right to do what I liked with them. Nobody accuses you of taking them.'
âThat's quite true. Nobody will accuse me. I suppose Lord George has left England for the benefit of his health. It would not at all surprise me if I were to hear that Mrs Carbuncle had followed him; â not in the least.'
âYou're just like yourself, Aunt Susanna,' said Lizzie, getting up and taking her leave. âGood-bye, Lucy â I hope you're happy and comfortable here. Do you ever see a certain friend of ours now?'
âIf you mean Mr Greystock, I haven't seen him since I left Fawn Court,' said Lucy with dignity.
When Lizzie was gone, Lady Linlithgow spoke her mind freely about her niece. âLizzie Eustace won't come to any good. When I heard that she was engaged to that prig. Lord Fawn, I had some hopes that she might be kept out of harm. That's all over, of course. When he heard about the necklace he wasn't going to put his neck into that scrape. But now she's getting among such a set
that nothing can save her. She has taken to hunting, and rides about the country like a mad woman.'
âA great many ladies hunt,' said Lucy.
âAnd she's got hold of this Lord George, and of that horrid American woman that nobody knows anything about. They've got the diamonds between them, I don't doubt. I'll bet you sixpence that the police find out all about it, and that there is some terrible scandal. The diamonds were no more hers than they were mine, and she'll be made to pay for them.'
The necklace, the meanwhile, was still locked up in Lizzie's desk â with a patent Bramah key
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â in Mrs Carbuncle's house, and was a terrible trouble to our unhappy friend.
47
Matching Priory
B
EFORE
the end of January everybody in London had heard of the great robbery at Carlisle â and most people had heard also that there was something very peculiar in the matter â something more than a robbery. Various rumours were afloat. It had become widely known that the diamonds were to be the subject of litigation between the young widow and the trustees of the Eustace estate; and it was known also that Lord Fawn had engaged himself to marry the widow, and had then retreated from his engagement simply on account of this litigation. There were strong parties formed in the matter â whom we may call Lizzieities and anti-Lizzieites. The Lizzieites were of opinion that poor Lady Eustace was being very ill-treated; â that the diamonds did probably belong to her, and that Lord Fawn, at any rate, clearly ought to be her own. It was worthy of remark that these Lizzieites were all of them Conservatives. Frank Greystock had probably set the party on foot; â and it was natural that political opponents should believe that a noble young Under-Secretary of State on the liberal side â such as Lord Fawn, had misbehaved himself. When the matter at last became of such importance as to demand leading articles in the newspapers, those journals which had devoted themselves to upholding the conservative politicians of the day were very heavy indeed upon Lord Fawn. The whole force of the Government, however, was anti-Lizzieite; and as the controversy advanced, every good Liberal became aware that there was nothing so wicked, so rapacious, so bold, or so cunning but that Lady Eustace might have done it, or caused it to be done, without delay, without difficulty, without scruple. Lady Glencora Palliser for a while endeavoured to defend Lizzie in liberal circles â from generosity rather than from any real belief, and instigated, perhaps, by a feeling that any woman in society who was capable of
doing anything extraordinary ought to be defended. But even Lady Glencora was forced to abandon her generosity, and to confess, on behalf of her party, that Lizzie Eustace was a very wicked young woman, indeed. All this, no doubt, grew out of the diamonds, and chiefly arose from the robbery; but there had been enough of notoriety attached to Lizzie before the affair at Carlisle to make people fancy that they had understood her character long before that.
The party assembled at Matching Priory, a country house belonging to Mr Palliser in which Lady Glencora took much delight, was not large, because Mr Palliser's uncle, the Duke of Omnium, who was with them, was now a very old man, and one who did not like very large gatherings of people. Lord and Lady Chiltern were there â that Lord Chiltern who had been known so long and so well in the hunting-counties of England, and that Lady Chiltern who had been so popular in London as the beautiful Violet Effingham; and Mr and Mrs Grey were there, very particular friends of Mrs Palliser's. Mr Grey was now sitting for the borough of Silverbridge, in which the Duke of Omnium was still presumed to have a controlling influence, in spite of all Reform bills, and Mrs Grey was in some distant way connected with Lady Glencora.
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And Madame Max Goesler was there â a lady whose society was still much affected by the old duke; and Mr and Mrs Bonteen â who had been brought there, not, perhaps, altogether because they were greatly loved, but in order that the gentleman's services might be made available by Mr Palliser in reference to some great reform about to be introduced in monetary matters. Mr Palliser, who was now Chancellor of the Exchequer, was intending to alter the value of the penny.
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Unless the work should be too much for him, and he should die before he had accomplished the self-imposed task, the future penny was to be made, under his auspices, to contain five farthings, and the shilling ten pennies. It was thought that if this could be accomplished, the arithmetic of the whole world would be so simplified that hence forward the name of Palliser would be blessed by all school-boys, clerks, shopkeepers, and financiers. But the difficulties were so great that Mr Palliser's hair was already grey from toil, and his
shoulders bent by the burthen imposed upon them. Mr Bonteen, with two private secretaries from the Treasury, was now at Matching to assist Mr Palliser; â and it was thought that both Mr and Mrs Bonteen were near to madness under the pressure of the five-farthing penny. Mr Bonteen had remarked to many of his political friends that those two extra farthings that could not be made to go into the shilling would put him into his cold grave before the world would know what he had done â or had rewarded him for it with a handle to his name, and a pension. Lord Fawn was also at Matching â a suggestion having been made to Lady Glencora by some leading Liberals that he should be supported in his difficulties by her hospitality.
The mind of Mr Palliser himself was too deeply engaged to admit of its being interested in the great necklace affair; but, of all the others assembled, there was not one who did not listen anxiously for news on the subject. As regarded the old duke, it had been found to be quite a godsend; and from post to post as the facts reached Matching they were communicated to him. And, indeed, there were some there who would not wait for the post, but had the news about poor Lizzie's diamonds down by the wires. The matter was of the greatest moment to Lord Fawn, and Lady Glencora was, perhaps, justified, on his behalf, in demanding a preference for her affairs over the messages which were continually passing between Matching and the Treasury respecting those two ill-conditioned farthings.
âDuke,' she said, entering rather abruptly the small warm luxurious room in which her husband's uncle was passing his morning, âduke, they say now that after all the diamonds were not in the box when it was taken out of the room at Carlisle.' The duke was reclining in an easy-chair, with his head leaning forward on his breast, and Madame Goesler was reading to him. It was now three o'Clock, and the old man had been brought down to this room after his breakfast. Madame Goesler was reading the last famous new novel, and the duke was dozing. That, probably, was the fault neither of the reader nor of the novelist; as the duke was wont to doze in these days. But Lady Glencora's tidings awakened him completely. She had the telegram in her hand â so
that he could perceive that the very latest news was brought to him.
âThe diamonds not in the box!' he said â pushing his head a little more forward in his eagerness, and sitting with the extended fingers of his two hands touching each other.
âBarrington Erle says that Major Mackintosh is almost sure the diamonds were not there.' Major Mackintosh was an officer very high in the police force, whom everybody trusted implicitly, and as to whom the outward world believed that he could discover the perpetrators of any iniquity, if he would only take the trouble to look into it. Such was the pressing nature of his duties that he found himself compelled in one way or another to give up about sixteen hours a day to them; â but the outer world accused him of idleness. There was nothing he couldn't find out; â only he would not give himself the trouble to find out all the things that happened. Two or three newspapers had already been very hard upon him in regard to the Eustace diamonds. Such a mystery as that, they said, he ought to have unravelled long ago. That he had not unravelled it yet was quite certain.
