The Corinthian

“I should inform your ladyship,” said Porson, apparently deaf to her indiscreet utterance, “that there were several other Peculiar Circumstances attached to Sir Richard’s disappearance.”

“Good heavens, you talk as though he has been spirited away by magic!” said Louisa impatiently. “What circumstances, my good man?”

“If your ladyship will excuse me, I will fetch them for your inspection,” said Porson, and bowed himself out.

Husband and wife were left to stare at one another in perplexity.

“Well!” said George, not without satisfaction, “you see now what comes of plaguing a man out of his mind!”

“I didn’t! George, it is unjust of you to say so! Pray, how could I force him to offer for Melissa if he did not wish to? I am persuaded his flight has nothing whatever to do with that affair.”

“No man will bear being teased to do something he don’t want to do,” said George.

“Then all I have to say is that Richard is a bigger coward than I would have believed possible! I am sure, if only he had told me frankly that he did not wish to marry Melissa I should not have said another word about it.”

“Ha!” ejaculated George, achieving a sardonic laugh.

He escaped reproof by Porson’s coming back into the room, bearing certain articles which he laid carefully upon the table. In great astonishment, Lord and Lady Trevor gazed at a Paisley shawl, a crumpled cravat, and some short strands of guinea-gold hair, curling appropriately enough into a shape resembling a question-mark.

“What in the world—?” exclaimed Louisa.

“These articles, my lady, were discovered by the under-footman upon his entering the library this morning,” said Porson. “The shawl, which neither Biddle nor myself can remember to have seen before, was lying on the floor; the cravat had been thrown into the grate; and the—er—lock of hair—was found under the shawl.”

“Well, upon my word!” said George, putting up his glass the better to inspect the articles. He pointed his glass at the cravat. “That tells its own tale! Poor Ricky must have come in last night in a bad state. I dare say his head was aching: mine would have been, if I had drunk half the brandy he tossed off yesterday. I see it all. There he was, pledged to call on Saar this morning—no way out of it—head on fire! He tugged at his cravat, felt as though he must choke, and ruined the thing—and no matter how far gone he was, Ricky would never wear a crumpled necktie! There he was, sitting in a chair, very likely, and running his hands through his hair, in the way a man does—”

“Richard never yet disarranged his hair, and no matter how drunk he may have been, he did not pull a curl of that colour out of his own head!” interrupted Louisa. “Moreover, it has been cut off. Anyone can see that!”

George levelled his glass at the gleaming curl. A number of emotions flitted across his rather stolid countenance. He drew a breath. “You’re quite right, Louisa,” he said. “Well, I never would have believed it! The sly dog!”

“You need not wait, Porson!” Louisa said sharply.

“Very good, my lady. But I should perhaps inform your ladyship that the under-footman found the candles burning in the library when he entered it this morning.”

“I cannot see that it signifies in the least,” replied Louisa, waving him aside.

He withdrew. George, who was holding the curl in the palm of his hand, said: “Well, I can’t call anyone to mind with hair of this colour. To be sure, there were one or two opera-dancers, but Ricky’s not at all the sort of man to want ’em to cut off their hair for him. But there’s no doubt about one thing, Louisa: this curl was a keepsake.”

“Thank you, George, I had already realized that. Yet I thought I knew all the respectable women of Richard’s acquaintance! One would say that kind of keepsake must have belonged to his salad days. I am sure he is much too unromantic now to cherish a lock of hair!”

“And he threw it away,” George said, shaking his head. “You know, it’s devilish sad, Louisa, upon my word it is! Threw it away, because he was on the eve of offering for that Brandon-iceberg!”

“Very affecting! And having thrown it away, he then ran away himself—not, you will admit, making any offer at all! And where did the shawl come from?” She picked it up as she spoke, and shook it out. “Extremely creased! Now why?”

“Another keepsake,” George said. “Crushed it in his hands, poor old Ricky—couldn’t bear the recollections it conjured up—flung it away!”

“Oh, fiddle!” said Louisa, exasperated. “Well, Porson, what is it now?”

The butler, who had come back into the room, said primly: “The Honourable Cedric Brandon, my lady, to see Sir Richard. I thought perhaps your ladyship would wish to receive him.”

“I don’t suppose he can throw the least light on this mystery, but you may as well show him in,” said Louisa. “Depend upon it,” she added to her husband, when Porson had withdrawn himself again, “he will have come to learn why Richard did not keep his engagement with Saar this morning. I am sure I do not know what I am to say to him!”

“If you ask me, Cedric won’t blame Richard,” said George. “They tell me he was talking pretty freely at White’s yesterday. Foxed, of course. How you and your mother can want Ricky to marry into that family is what beats me!”

“We have known the Brandons all our lives,” Louisa said

defensively. “I don’t pretend that—” She broke off, as the Honourable Cedric walked into the room, and stepped forward, with her hand held out. “How do you do, Cedric? I am afraid Richard is not at home. We—think he must have been called away suddenly on urgent affairs.”

“Taken my advice, has he?” said Cedric, saluting her hand with careless grace. “ “You run, Ricky! Don’t do it!” that’s what I told him. Told him I’d sponge on him for the rest of his days, if he was fool enough to let himself be caught.”

“I wonder that you should talk in that vulgar way!” said Louisa. “Of course he has not run! I dare say he will be back any moment now. It was excessively remiss of him not to have sent a note round to inform Lord Saar that he could not wait on him this morning, as he had engaged himself to do, but—”

“You’ve got that wrong,” interrupted Cedric. “No engagement at all. Melissa told him to call on m’father; he didn’t say he would. Wormed it out of Melissa myself an hour ago. Lord, you never saw anyone in such a rage! What’s all this?” His roving eye had alighted on the relics laid out upon the table. “A lock of hair, by Jove! Devilish pretty hair too!”

“Found in the library this morning,” said George portentously, ignoring his wife’s warning frown.

“Here? Ricky?” demanded Cedric. “You’re bamming me!”

“No, it is perfectly true. We cannot understand it.”

Cedric’s eyes danced. “By all that’s famous! Who’d have thought it, though? Well, that settles our affairs! Devilish inconvenient, but damme, I’m glad he’s bolted! Always liked Ricky—never wanted to see him bound for perdition with the rest of us! But we’re done-up now, and no mistake! The diamonds have gone.”

“What?” Louisa cried. “Cedric, not the Brandon necklace?”

“That’s it. Last sheet-anchor thrown out to the windward—gone like that!” He snapped his fingers in the air, and laughed. “I came to tell Ricky I’d accept his offer to buy me a pair of colours, and be off to the Wars.”

“But how? Where?” gasped Louisa.

“Stolen. My mother took it to Bath with her. Never would stir without the thing, more’s the pity! I wonder m’father didn’t sell it years ago. Only thing he didn’t sell, except Saar Court, and that’ll have to go next. My mother wouldn’t hear of parting with the diamonds.”

“But Cedric, how stolen? Who took it?”

“Highwaymen. My mother sent off a courier post-haste to m’father. Chaise stopped somewhere near Bath— two fellows with masks and horse-pistols—Sophia screeching like a hen—my mother swooning—outriders taken by surprise—one of ’em winged. And off went the necklace. Which is what I can’t for the life of me understand.”

“How terrible! Your poor Mama! I am so sorry! It is an appalling loss!”

“Yes, but how the devil did they find the thing?” said Cedric. “That’s what I want to know.”

“But surely if they took Lady Saar’s jewel-case—”

“The necklace wasn’t in it. I’ll lay my last shilling on that. My mother had a hiding-place for it—devilish