At midnight his housekeeper came in. She was a middle-aged Frenchwoman and discreet.
“All right?” queried Mr. Birn lazily.
“No, monsieur, I desire that you should speak to Charles.”
Charles was Mr. Birn’s chauffeur, and between Charles and Madame was a continuous feud.
“What has Charles been doing?” asked Mr. Birn with a frown.
“He is admitted every evening to the kitchen for supper,” explained madame, “and it is an order that he should close the door after he goes out. But, m’sieur, when I went this evening at eleven o’clock to bolt the door, it was not closed. If I had not put on the lights and with my own eyes have seen it, the door would have been open, and we might have been murdered in our beds.”
“I’ll talk to him in the morning,” growled Mr. Birn. “You’ve left the door of mademoiselle’s room unfastened?”
“Yes, m’sieur, the key is in the lock.”
“Good night,” said Mr. Birn resuming his study. At half past two he heard the street door close gently and a light footstep passed through the hall. He looked up at the clock, threw away the end of his cigar and lit another before he rose and went heavily to a wall safe. This he unlocked and took out an empty steel box, which he opened and placed on the table. Then he resumed his chair.
Presently came a light tap at the door.
“Come in,” said Mr. Birn.
The girl who was variously called Vane and Chaucer came into the room. She was neatly but not richly dressed. In many ways the plainness of her street costume enhanced her singular beauty and Mr. Birn gazed approvingly upon her refreshing figure.
“Sit down, Miss Chaucer,” he said, putting out his hand for the little linen bag she carried.
He opened it and took out a rope of pearls and examined every gem separately.
“I haven’t stolen any,” she said contemptuously.
“Perhaps you haven’t,” said Mr. Birn, “but I’ve known some funny things to happen.”
He took the diamond pin, the rings, the two diamond and emerald bracelets, and each of these he scrutinised before he returned them to the bag and put the bag into the steel box.
He did not speak until he had placed them in the safe.
“Well, how are things going tonight?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“I take no interest in gambling,” she said shortly and Mr. Birn chuckled.
“You’re a fool,” he said frankly.
“I wish I were no worse than that,” said Elsie Chaucer bitterly. “You don’t want me any more, Mr. Birn?”
“Sit down,” he ordered. “Who did you find tonight?”
For a moment she did not reply.
“The man whom Welby introduced last night,” she said.
“The South American?” Mr. Birn pulled a long face. “He wasn’t very profitable. I suppose you know that? We lost about four thousand pounds.”
“Less the ring,” said the girl.
“The ring he gave you? Well, that’s worth about a hundred, and I’ll be lucky to get sixty for it,” said Mr. Birn with a shrug. “You can keep that ring if you like.”
“No thank you, Mr. Birn,” said the girl quietly. “I don’t want those kinds of presents.”
“Come here,” said Birn suddenly, and reluctantly she came round the table and stood before him.
He rose and took her hand.
“Elsie,” he said, “I’ve got very fond of you and I’ve been a good friend of yours, you know. If it hadn’t been for me what would have happened to your father? He’d have been hung! That would have been nice for you, wouldn’t it?”
She did not reply but gently disengaged her hand.
“You needn’t put away those jewels and fine clothes every night, if you’re sensible,” he went on, “and—”
“Happily I am sensible, if by sensible you mean sane,” said the girl, “and now I think I’ll go if you don’t mind, Mr. Birn. I’m rather tired.”
“Wait,” he said.
He walked to the safe, unlocked it again and took out an oblong parcel wrapped in brown paper, fastened with tapes and sealed.
“There’s a diamond necklace inside there,” he said. “It’s worth eight thousand pounds if it’s worth a penny. I’m going to put it in my strong box at the bank tomorrow, unless—”
“Unless—” repeated the girl steadily.
“Unless you want it,” said Mr. Birn. “I’m a fool with the ladies.”
She shook her head.
“Does it occur to you, Mr. Birn,” she said quietly, “that I could have had many necklaces if I wanted them? No, thank you. I am looking forward to the end of my servitude.”
“And suppose I don’t release you?” growled Mr. Birn as he put back the package in the safe and locked the door. “Suppose I want you for another three years? How about that? Your father’s still liable to arrest. No man can kill another, even if he’s only a croupier, without hanging for it.”
“I’ve paid for my father’s folly, over and over again,” said the girl in a low voice. “You don’t know how I hate this life, Mr. Birn. I feel worse than the worst woman in the world! I spend my life luring men to ruin—I wish to God I had never made the bargain. Sometimes I think I will tell my father just what I am paying for his safety, and let him decide whether my sacrifice is worth it!”
A momentary look of alarm spread on the man’s face.
“You’ll do nothing of the kind,” he said sharply. “Just as you’ve got into our ways! I was only joking about asking you to stay on. Now, my dear,” he said with an air of banter, “you’d better go home and get your beauty sleep.”
He walked with her to the door, saw her down the steps and watched her disappear in the darkness of the street, then he came back to lock up for the night. He drank up the half glass of whisky he had left and made a wry face.
“That’s a queer taste,”
