my dressing-room door.


“‘Arthur!’ I screamed, ‘you villain! you thief!

How dare you touch that coronet?’


“The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, dressed only

in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the light, holding the coronet

in his hands. He appeared to be wrenching at it, or bending it with all his

strength. At my cry he dropped it from his grasp and turned as pale as death. I

snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with three of the

beryls in it, was missing.


“‘You blackguard!’ I shouted, beside myself with rage.

‘You have destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the

jewels which you have stolen?’


“‘Stolen!’ he cried.


“‘Yes, thief!’ I roared, shaking him by the shoulder.


“‘There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,’

said he.


“‘There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must

I call you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off

another piece?’


“‘You have called me names enough,’ said he, ‘I

will not stand it any longer. I shall not say another word about this business,

since you have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and

make my own way in the world.’


“‘You shall leave it in the hands of the police!’ I

cried half-mad with grief and rage. ‘I shall have this matter probed to

the bottom.’


“‘You shall learn nothing from me,’ said he with a

passion such as I should not have thought was in his nature. ‘If you

choose to call the police, let the police find what they can.’


“By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my voice in my

anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, at the sight of the

coronet and of Arthur’s face, she read the whole story and, with a

scream, fell down senseless on the ground. I sent the housemaid for the police

and put the investigation into their hands at once. When the inspector and a