‘I certainly will if you are as much in earnest as you seem to be,’ he replied; ‘you shall tell me just what you want me to do presently when we can have a quiet talk together.’
At this moment there was a little stir, and a buzz of louder conversation.
We had reached the dessert stage, and an old friend of the family had insisted on proposing a toast – ‘the engaged couple’.
We all looked and spoke our compliments to them, and Sir Charles Merivale said a word or two of thanks for himself and Nellie, and then someone asked to see her ring, and she took it off and handed it round for general inspection.
It passed Tom and me, and I handed it on to my next-door neighbour; then our attention was attracted by an exciting story of an Indian loot, told by an old general who had taken part in it, and whose recollections were aroused by the brilliance of Nellie’s diamond ring.
The whole party listened to the story – a stirring one and well told – and it was not till the general had concluded, and the comments were subsiding that Nellie said with a laugh: ‘Please may I have my ring back now? My finger is catching cold.’
There was a little murmur of reply, and then she said in a decisive voice:
‘But I have not got it, indeed; it has never come back to me.’
Several people began looking about, moving the plates and wine glasses; one or two sitting near Nellie stopped and looked on the floor; finally, Mr Brand rang the bell for the butler, and Nellie, getting up, shook her dress, thinking it might have fallen into the folds.
But the ring was not forthcoming!
It came upon me with a sort of shock that I knew with absolute certainty where the ring was, and yet that it was impossible for me to reveal my knowledge, because such a revelation would have made me a traitor, though indirectly, towards someone who claimed my loyalty, and would – though in justice to myself, I must say this was a secondary consideration to me – have been very dangerous to me.
A complete search was made all over the room for the ring; each one saying in turn that it had been passed on to the next person at the table.
When, after an interval of ten minutes it was still invisible, a sort of hush fell over the whole party, and the extreme unpleasantness of the situation dawned on most of them.
I say most of them, because I knew that there were two people whose feelings were totally different to those of the others, and one of those two was myself.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ said Mr Somers-Brand at last; ‘it is a most extraordinary thing, and seems like magic. The ring seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth.’
He looked appealingly round at his guests; it was really a most awkward predicament. Mrs Brand seemed inclined to make a move to the drawing room.
I felt desperate; I seemed such a traitor either way.
A thought occurred to me; I spoke a few words rapidly to Tom. Fortunately I knew him well enough to feel assured that he would not misconstrue my agitation. He interposed at once between his mother and the door.
‘Don’t go, mother,’ he said, ‘stay and help us to solve this problem. Who else was in the room besides you?’ he continued, turning to the butler.
‘Only William, sir,’ that decorous official replied, with the imperturbable demeanour which is so admirable in butlers.
‘Ring for William,’ said Tom.
As soon as William, the footman, had made a sheepish appearance, Tom proceeded to address the whole company.
‘With my father’s permission,’ he said, ‘I will make a suggestion, and I hope that you will all approve of it, and that you will appreciate the motives I have in making it. It is this. That the door should be locked and the key held by my father; that we should all resume our places at table; and that the lights should then be turned off. That after a minute or two they should be turned on again. I should like to say that I have a theory about the disappearance of the ring which I am anxious to prove. If this way is unsuccessful I shall suggest another. But I fully believe that when the lights are turned on the ring will be visible.
‘I apologise to you all for asking you to do this, but I feel certain that you would all prefer that the ring should now be found, if possible. Do you agree to my suggestion?’
Apparently everyone did, and it was carried out in every detail.
When the electric lights flashed up again we were all dazzled for an instant, after our temporary eclipse, and looked vaguely at each other as though we expected to see the ring suspended in mid-air or lurking in some unusual place like a conjuring trick.
Then Nellie Brand gave a little glad cry, and, stooping forward, picked the ring out from the folds of yellow ribbon that meandered about amongst the flowers in the centre of the table.
‘Ah!’ said Tom, with an accent of relief, ‘a practical joke as I thought, and very cleverly played! Now, mother, we will consent to part with you.’
He telegraphed to me a look of grateful acknowledgement as I passed out of the room; I saw him turn and go towards Gerard Beverley.
I had no need to be assured by the ghastly
