Round the Fire Stories - Page 30

“Precisely what I should wish to ask you. If he had any such misgivings,why could he not come and tell me direct?”

“Wi

ll you speak to him about it?”

“There again I am in doubt. He might choose to deny that he wrote it.”

“At any rate,” said I, “this warning is meant in a friendly spirit, andI should certainly act upon it. Are the present precautions enough toinsure you against robbery?”

“I should have thought so. The public are only admitted from ten tillfive, and there is a guardian to every two rooms. He stands at the doorbetween them, and so commands them both.”

“But at night?”

“When the public are gone, we at once put up the great iron shutters,which are absolutely burglar-proof. The watchman is a capable fellow. Hesits in the lodge, but he walks round every three hours. We keep oneelectric light burning in each room all night.”

“It is difficult to suggest anything more—short of keeping your daywatchers all night.”

“We could not afford that.”

“At least, I should communicate with the police, and have a specialconstable put on outside in Belmore Street,” said I. “As to the letter,if the writer wishes to be anonymous, I think he has a right to remainso. We must trust to the future to show some reason for the curiouscourse which he has adopted.”

So we dismissed the subject, but all that night after my return to mychambers I was puzzling my brain as to what possible motive ProfessorAndreas could have for writing an anonymous warning letter to hissuccessor—for that the writing was his was as certain to me as if I hadseen him actually doing it. He foresaw some danger to the collection.Was it because he foresaw it that he abandoned his charge of it? But ifso, why should he hesitate to warn Mortimer in his own name? I puzzledand puzzled until at last I fell into a troubled sleep, which carried mebeyond my usual hour of rising.

I was aroused in a singular and effective method, for about nine o’clockmy friend Mortimer rushed into my room with an expression ofconsternation upon his face. He was usually one of the most tidy men ofmy acquaintance, but now his collar was undone at one end, his tie wasflying, and his hat at the back of his head. I read his whole story inhis frantic eyes.

“The museum has been robbed!” I cried, springing up in bed.

“I fear so! Those jewels! The jewels of the urim and thummim!” hegasped, for he was out of breath with running. “I’m going on to thepolice-station. Come to the museum as soon as you can, Jackson!Good-bye!” He rushed distractedly out of the room, and I heard himclatter down the stairs.

I was not long in following his directions, but I found when I arrivedthat he had already returned with a police inspector, and anotherelderly gentleman, who proved to be Mr. Purvis, one of the partners ofMorson and Company, the well-known diamond merchants. As an expert instones he was always prepared to advise the police. They were groupedround the case in which the breastplate of the Jewish priest had beenexposed. The plate had been taken out and laid upon the glass top of thecase, and the three heads were bent over it.

“It is obvious that it has been tampered with,” said Mortimer. “Itcaught my eye the moment that I passed through the room this morning. Iexamined it yesterday evening, so that it is certain that this hashappened during the night.”

It was, as he had said, obvious that some one had been at work upon it.The settings of the uppermost row of four stones—the carnelian, peridot,emerald, and ruby-were rough and jagged as if some one had scraped allround them. The stones were in their places, but the beautiful gold-workwhich we had admired only a few days before had been very clumsilypulled about.

“It looks to me,” said the police inspector, “as if some one had beentrying to take out the stones.”

“My fear is,” said Mortimer, “that he not only tried, but succeeded. Ibelieve these four stones to be skilful imitations which have been putin the place of the originals.”

The same suspicion had evidently been in the mind of the expert, for hehad been carefully examining the four stones with the aid of a lens. Henow submitted them to several tests, and finally turned cheerfully toMortimer.

“I congratulate you, sir,” said he, heartily. “I will pledge myreputation that all four of these stones are genuine, and of a mostunusual degree of purity.”

The colour began to come back to my poor friend’s frightened face, andhe drew a long breath of relief.

“Thank God!” he cried. “Then what in the world did the thief want?”

“Probably he meant to take the stones, but was interrupted.”

“In that case one would expect him to take them out one at a time, butthe setting of each of these has been loosened, and yet the stones areall here.”

“It is certainly most extraordinary,” said the inspector. “I neverremember a case like it. Let us see the watchman.”

The commissionaire was called—a soldierly, honest-faced man, who seemedas concerned as Ward Mortimer at the incident.

“No, sir, I never heard a sound,” he answered, in reply to the questionsof the inspector. “I made my rounds four times, as usual, but I sawnothing suspicious. I’ve been in my position ten years, but nothing ofthe kind has ever occurred before.”

“No thief could have come through the windows?”

Tags: Arthur Conan Doyle Mystery
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