“Because 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.
“I don’t believe a bit of it.”
“I 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.”
“And 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 a 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—of a Corsair who was written down in the peerage as a marquis’s brother;—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—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—and had said next to nothing about the robbery. He made but one remark about it. “I have told the chief man here,” he said, “that 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 all, 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 that he had only stolen the box, how wonderful would be the mystery! “He hasn’t got anything to say,” replied Lizzie to the question of the countess.
“And who is your Mrs. Carbuncle?” asked the old woman.
“A 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.”
“I’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.”
“They were my own.”
“The loss will fall on you, no doubt, because the Eustace people will make you pay for them. You’ll 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!”
“They were my own, and I had a right to do what I liked with them. Nobody accuses you of taking them.”
“That’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;—not in the least.”
“You’re just like yourself, Aunt Susanna,” said Lizzie, getting up and taking her leave. “Goodbye, Lucy—I hope you’re happy and comfortable here. Do you ever see a certain friend of ours now?”
“If 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. “Lizzie 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 madwoman.”
“A great many ladies hunt,” said Lucy.
“And 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—with a patent Bramah key—in Mrs. Carbuncle’s house, and was a terrible trouble to our unhappy friend.
XLVII
Matching Priory
Before the end of January everybody in London had heard of the great robbery at Carlisle—and most people had heard also that there was something very peculiar in the matter—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—whom we may call Lizzieites and anti-Lizzieites. The Lizzieites were of opinion that poor Lady Eustace was being very ill-treated;—that the diamonds did probably belong to her, and that Lord
