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The Orange Yellow Diamond

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"Three years--to be sure! And I believe you had resided with him for some
years before that?"

"Ever since I was a little girl," admitted Zillah.

"In fact, the late Mr. Multenius brought you up? Just so!--therefore,
of course, you would have some acquaintance with his business before
you left school?"

"Yes--he taught me a good deal about it."

"You were always about the place, of course--yes? And I may take it that
you gradually got a good deal of knowledge about the articles with which
your grandfather had to deal? To be sure--thank you. In fact, you are
entitled to regard yourself as something of an expert in precious stones
and metals?"

"I know a good deal about them," replied Zillah.

"You could tell the value of a thing as accurately as your grandfather?"

"Ordinary things--yes."

"And you were very well acquainted with your grandfather's stock?"

"Yes."

Mr. Parminter motioned the official who had charge of it to place the tray
of rings on the ledge of the witness-box.

"Oblige me by looking at that tray and the contents," he said. "You
recognize it, of course? Just so. Now, do you know where that tray was
when you went out, leaving your grandfather alone, yesterday afternoon?"

"Yes," replied Zillah, unhesitatingly. "On the table in the back-parlour--
where I saw it when I came in. My grandfather had taken it out of the
front window, so that he could polish the rings."

"Do you know how many rings it contained?"

"No. Perhaps twenty-five or thirty."

"They are, I see, laid loosely in the tray, which is velvet-lined. They
were always left like that? Just so. And you don't know how many there
were--nor how many there should be there, now? As a matter of fact, there
are twenty-seven rings there--you can't say that is the right number?"

"No," answered Zillah, "and my grandfather couldn't have said, either. A
ring might be dropped into that tray--or a ring taken out. They are all
old rings."

"But--valuable?" suggested Mr. Parminter.

"Some--yes. Others are not very valuable."

"Now what do you mean by that word valuable? What, for instance, is the
value of the least valuable ring there, and what is that of the most
valuable?"

Zillah glanced almost indifferently at the tray before her.

"Some of these rings are worth no more than five pounds," she replied.
"Some--a few--are worth twenty to thirty pounds; one or two are worth
more."

"And--they are all old?"

"They are all of old-fashioned workmanship," said Zillah. "Made a good
many years ago, all of them. The diamonds, or pearls, are all right, of
course."

Mr. Parminter handed over the half-sheet of paper on which Lauriston's
rings had been exhibited to the Coroner and the jurymen.

"Look at those rings, if you please," he said quietly. "Are they of the
same sort, the same class, of rings as those in the tray?"

"Yes," admitted Zillah. "Something the same."

"What is the value of those rings--separately?" enquired Mr. Parminter.
"Please give us your professional opinion."

Zillah bent over the two rings for a while, turning them about.

"This is worth about thirty, and that about fifty pounds," she replied at
last.

"In other words, these two rings are similar in style and value to the
best rings in that tray?"

"Yes."

"Do you recognize those two rings?"

"No--not at all."

Mr. Parminter paused a moment, and caught the jury's attention with a
sharp glance of his eye before he turned again to the witness.

"Could you have recognized any of the rings in that tray?" he asked.

"No!" said Zillah. "I could not."

"Then you could not possibly say--one way or another, if those rings were
taken out of that tray?"

"No!"

"The fact is that all those rings--the two on the half-sheet of notepaper,
and twenty-seven on the tray--are all of the same class as regards age and
style--all very much of a muchness?"

"Yes," admitted Zillah.

"And you can't--you are on your oath remember!--you can't definitely say
that those two rings were not picked up from that tray, amongst the
others?"

"No," replied Zillah. "But I can't say that they were! And--I don't
believe they were. I don't believe they were our rings!"

Mr. Parminter smiled quietly and again swept the interested jurymen with
his quick glance.

Then he turned to Zillah with another set of questions.

"How long have you known the last witness--Andrew Lauriston?" he enquired.

"Since one day last week," replied Zillah.

She had flushed at the mention of Lauriston's name, and Mr. Parminter was
quick to see it.

"How did you get to know him?" he continued.

"By his coming to the shop--on business."

"To pawn his watch, I believe?"

"Yes."

"You attended to him?"

"Yes."

"You had never seen him before?"

"No."

"Ever seen him since?"

Zillah hesitated for a moment.

"I saw him--accidentally--in Kensington Gardens, on Sunday," she answered
at last.

"Have any conversation with him?"

"Yes," admitted Zillah.

"About--pawnbroking?"

"No!" retorted Zillah. "About his work--writing."

"Did he tell you he was very hard up?"

"I knew that!" said Zillah. "Hadn't he pawned his watch?"

"Perhaps--you seem to be a very good business woman--perhaps you gave him
some advice?"

"Yes, I did! I advised him, as long as he'd anything on which he could
raise money, not to let himself go without money in his pocket."

"Excellent advice!" said Mr. Parminter, with a smile.

He leaned forward, looking at his witness more earnestly. "Now, did
Lauriston, on Sunday, or when you saw him before, ever mention to you that
he possessed two rings of some value?"

"No," replied Zillah.

Mr. Parminter paused, hesitated, suddenly bowed to the Coroner, and
dropping back into his seat, pulled out his snuff-box. And the Coroner,
motioning Zillah to leave the witness-box, interrupted Mr. Parminter in
the midst of a pinch of snuff.

"I think it will be best to adjourn at this stage," he said. "It is
obvious that we can't finish this today." He turned to the jurymen. "I
propose to adjourn this enquiry for a week, gentlemen," he went on. "In
the meantime--"

His attention was suddenly arrested by Melky Rubinstein, who, after much
uneasiness and fidgeting, rose from his seat and made his way to the foot
of the table, manifestly desiring to speak.

"What is it?" asked the Coroner. "Who are you? Oh!--the witness who
identified the body. Yes?"

"Mr. Coroner!" said Melky, in his most solemn tones. "This here inquest
ain't being conducted right, sir! I don't mean by you--but these here
gentlemen, the police, and Mr. Parminter there, is going off on a wrong
scent. I know what they're after, and they're wrong! They're suppressing
evidence, Mr. Coroner." Melky turned on Ayscough. "What about the clue o'
this here old book?" he demanded. "Why ain't you bringing that forward?
I'm the late Daniel Multenius's nearest male relative, and I say that
clue's a deal more important nor what we've been hearing all the morning.
What about that book, now, Mr. Ayscough? Come on!--what about it!--and its
owner?"

"What is this?" demanded the Coroner. "If there is anything--"

"Anything, sir!" exclaimed Melky. "There's just this--between the time
that my cousin there, Miss Zillah Wildrose left the old man alive, and the
time when Mr. Lauriston found him dead, somebody came into the shop as
left a valuable book behind him on the parlour table, which book,
according to all the advertisements in the morning papers, is the property
of Mr. Spencer Levendale, the Member of Parliament, as lives in Sussex
Square. Why ain't that matter brought up? Why ain't Mr. Levendale brought
here? I ask you, Mr. Coroner, to have it seen into! There's more behind
it--"

The Coroner held up a hand and beckoned the police inspector and Mr.
Parminter to approach his desk; a moment later, Ayscough was summoned. And
Lauriston, watching the result of this conference, was quickly aware that
the Coroner was not particularly pleased; he suddenly turned on the
inspector with a question which was heard by every one in court.

"Why was not the matter of the book put before the Court at first?" he
demanded. "It seems to me that there may be a most important clue in it.
The fact of the book's having been found should most certainly have been
mentioned, at once. I shall adjourn for a week, from today, and you will
produce the book and bring Mr. Spencer Levendale here as a witness. This
day week, gentlemen!"

Melky Rubinstein turned, whispered a hurried word to Zillah and Mrs.
Goldmark, and then, seizing Lauriston by the elbow, drew him quickly away
from the court.



CHAPTER ELEVEN


THE BACK DOOR

Once outside in the street, Melky turned down the nearest side-street,
motioning Lauriston to follow him. Before they had gone many yards he
edged himself close to his companion's side, at the same time throwing a
cautious glance over his own shoulder.

"There's one o' them blooming detectives after us!" said Melky. "But
that's just what's to be expected, mister!--they'll never let you out o'
their sight until one of two things happen!"

"What things?" asked Lauriston.

"Either you'll have to prove, beyond all doubt, that them rings is yours,
and was your poor mother's before you," answered Melky, "or we shall have
to put a hand on the chap that scragged my uncle. That's a fact! Mister!--
will you put your trust and confidence in me, and do what I tell you? It's
for your own good."

"I don't know that I could do better," responded Lauriston, after a
moment's thought. "You're a right good fellow, Melky--I'm sure of that!
What do you want me to do?"

Melky pulled out a handsome gold watch and consulted it.

"It's dinner-time," he said. "Come round to Mrs. Goldmark's and get some
grub. I'll tell you what to do while we're eating. I've been thinking
things over while that there Parminter was badgering poor Zillah, and
s'elp me, there only is one thing for you to do, and you'd best to do it
sharp! But come on to Praed Street--don't matter if this here chap behind
does shadow you--I can get the better of him as easy as I could sell this
watch! It 'ud take all the detectives in London to beat me, if I put my
mind to it."

They were at Mrs. Goldmark's eating-house in five minutes: Melky, who knew
all the ins and outs of that establishment, conducted Lauriston into an
inner room, and to a corner wherein there was comparative privacy, and
summoned a waitress. Not until he and his companion were half way through
their meal did he refer to the business which was in his thoughts: then he
leaned close to Lauriston and began to talk.

"Mister!" he whispered. "Where do you come from?"

"Peebles," answered Lauriston. "You heard me tell them so, in that court."

"I'm no scholar," said Melky. "I ain't no idea where Peebles is, except
that it's in Scotland. Is it far into that country, or where is it?"

"Not far across the Border," replied Lauriston.

"Get there in a few hours, I reckon?" asked Melky. "You could? Very well,
then, mister, you take my tip--get there! Get there--quick!"

Lauriston laid down his knife and fork and stared.

"Whatever for?" he exclaimed.

"To find somebody--anybody--as can prove that those rings are yours!"
answered Melky solemnly and emphatically. "Tain't no use denying it--
you're in a dangerous position. The police always goes for the straightest
and easiest line. Their line was clear enough, just now--Parminter give it
away! They've a theory--they always have a theory--and when once police
gets a theory, nothing can drive it out o' their heads--their official
heads, anyway. What they're saying, and what they'll try to establish, is
this here. That you were hard up, down to less than your last penny. You
went to Mr. Multenius's--you peeked and peered through the shop window and
saw him alone, or, perhaps, saw the place empty. You went in--you grabbed
a couple o' rings--he interrupted you--you scragged him! That's their
line--and Zillah can't swear that those rings which you claim to be yours
aren't her grandfather's, and up to now you can't prove that they're yours
and were once your mother's! Mister!--be off to this here Peebles at once
--immediate!--and find somebody, some old friend, as can swear that he or
she--never mind which--knows them rings to be your property beyond a
shadow of doubt! Bring that friend back--bring him if he has to come in an
invalid carriage!"

Lauriston was so much struck by Melky's argument and advice that it needed
no more explanations to convince him of its wisdom.

"But--how could I get away'" he asked. "There'll be that detective chap
hanging about outside--I know I've been shadowed ever since last evening!
They'll never let me get away from London, however much I wish. The
probability is that if they saw me going to a railway station they'd
arrest me."

"My own opinion, mister, after what's taken place this morning, is that if
you stop here, you'll be arrested before night," remarked Melky coolly.
"I'd lay a tenner on it! But you ain't going to stop--you must go! There
must be somebody in the old spot as can swear that them two rings o' yours
is family property, and you must find 'em and bring 'em, if you value your
neck. As to slipping the police, I'll make that right for you, proper!
Now, then, what money have you about you, Mr. Lauriston?"

"Plenty!" answered Lauriston. "Nearly forty pounds--the money I got last
night."

"Will you do exactly what I tell you?" asked Melky, "And do it at once,
without any hesitation, any hanging about, any going home to Mother
Flitwick's, or anything o' that sort?"

"Yes!" replied Lauriston. "I'm so sure you're right, that I will."

"Then you listen to me--careful," said Melky. "See that door in the
corner? As soon as you've finished that pudding, slip out o' that door.
You'll find yourself in a little yard. Go out o' that yard, and you'll
find yourself in a narrow passage. Go straight down the passage, and
you'll come out in Market Street. Go straight down Southwick Street--you
know it--to Oxford and Cambridge Terrace, and you'll see a cab-rank right
in front of you. Get into a taxi, and tell the fellow to drive you to
Piccadilly Circus. Leave him there--take a turn round so's he won't see
what you do--then get into another taxi, and drive to St. Pancras Church.
Get out there--and foot it to King's Cross Station. You'll catch the 3.15
for the North easy--and after you're once in it, you're all right. Get to
Peebles!--that's the thing! S'elp me, Mr. Lauriston, it's the only thing!"

Five minutes later, there being no one but themselves in the little room,
Lauriston gave Melky a hearty grip of the hand, walked out of the door in
the corner, and vanished. And Melky, left alone, pulled out his cigarette
case, and began to smoke, calmly and quietly. When the waitress came back,
he whispered a word or two to her; the waitress nodded with full
comprehension--for everybody knew Melky at Goldmark's, and if the
waitresses wanted a little jewellery now and then, he let them have it at
cost price.

"So you can give me the checks for both," said Melky. "I'll pay 'em."

But Melky let three-quarters of an hour elapse before he went to the desk
in the outer shop. He sipped a cup of coffee; he smoked several
cigarettes; it was quite a long time before he emerged into Praed Street,
buttoning his overcoat. And without appearing to see anything, he at once
saw the man who had followed Lauriston and himself from the Coroner's
Court. Being almost preternaturally observant, he also saw the man start
with surprise--but Melky showed, and felt, no surprise, when the watcher
came after him.

"You know me, Mr. Rubinstein," he said, almost apologetically. "You know,
of course, we're keeping an eye on that young Scotch fellow--we've got to!
He went in there, to Goldmark's, with you? Is he still there?"

"Strikes me you ain't up to your job!" remarked Melky, coolly. "He went
out, three-quarters of an hour ago. Gone home, I should say."

The man turned away, evidently puzzled, but just as evidently taking
Melky's word. He went off in the direction of Star Street, while Melky
strolled along to the pawnbroker's shop. It was necessary that he should
tell his cousin of what he had done.

Mrs. Goldmark was still with Zillah--Melky unfolded his story to the two
of them. Zillah heard it with unfeigned relief; Mrs. Goldmark, who, being
a young and pretty widow, was inclined to sentiment, regarded Melky with
admiration.

"My!--if you ain't the cute one, Mr. Rubinstein!" she exclaimed, clapping
her plump hands. "As for me, now, I wouldn't have thought of that in a
hundred years! But it's you that's the quick mind."

Melky laid a finger to the side of his nose.

"Do you know what, Mrs. Goldmark?" he said. "I ain't going to let them
police fellows put a hand on young Lauriston, not me! I've my own ideas
about this here business--wait till I put my hand on somebody, see? Don't
it all come out clear to you?--if I find the right man, then there ain't
no more suspicion attaching to this young chap, ain't it? Oh, I'm no fool,
Mrs. Goldmark; don't you make no mistake!"

"I'm sure!" asserted Mrs. Goldmark. "Yes, indeed--you don't carry your
eyes in your head for nothing, Mr. Rubinstein!"

Zillah, who had listened abstractedly to these compliments suddenly turned
on her cousin.

"What are you going to do then, Melky?" she demanded. "What's all this
business about that book? And what steps are you thinking of taking?"

But Melky rose and, shaking his head, buttoned up his overcoat as if he
were buttoning in a multitude of profound secrets.

"What you got to do, just now, Zillah--and Mrs. Goldmark too," he
answered, "is to keep quiet tongues about what I done with young
Lauriston. There ain't to be a word said! If any o' them police come round
here, asking about him, you don't know nothing--see? You ain't seen him
since he walked out o' that court with me--see? Which, of course--you
ain't. And as for the rest, you leave that to yours truly!"

"Oh, what it is to have a mind!" exclaimed Mrs. Goldmark "I ain't no mind,
beyond managing my business."

"Don't you show your mind in managing that?" said Melky, admiringly. "What
do I always say of you, Mrs. Goldmark? Don't I always say you're the
smartest business woman in all Paddington? Ain't that having a mind? Oh, I
think you've the beautifullest mind, Mrs. Goldmark!"

With this compliment Melky left Mrs. Goldmark and Zillah, and went away to
his lodgings. He was aware of a taxi-cab drawn up at Mrs. Flitwick's door
as he went up the street; inside Mrs. Flitwick's shabby hall he found that
good woman talking to a stranger--a well-dressed young gentleman, who was
obviously asking questions. Mrs. Flitwick turned to Melky with an air of
relief.

"Perhaps you can tell this gentleman where Mr. Lauriston is, Mr.
Rubinstein?" she said. "I ain't seen him since he went out first thing
this morning."

Melky looked the stranger over--narrowly. Then he silently beckoned him
outside the house, and walked him out of earshot.

"You ain't the friend from Scotland?" asked Melky. "Him what sent the
bank-note, last night?"

"Yes!" assented the stranger. "I see you're aware of that. My name is
Purdie--John Purdie. Where is Lauriston? I particularly want to see him."

Melky tapped the side of his nose, and whispered.

"He's on his way to where you come from, mister!" he said. "Here!--I know
who you are, and you'll know me in one minute. Come up to my sitting-
room!"



CHAPTER TWELVE


THE FRIEND FROM PEEBLES

Melky, as principal lodger in Mrs. Flitwick's establishment, occupied what
that lady was accustomed to describe as the front drawing-room floor--a
couple of rooms opening one into the other. Into one of these, furnished
as a sitting-room, he now led Lauriston's friend, hospitably invited him
to a seat, and took a quiet look at him. He at once sized up Mr. John
Purdie for what he was--a well-to-do, well-dressed, active-brained young
business man, probably accustomed to controlling and dealing with
important affairs. And well satisfied with this preliminary inspection,
he immediately plunged into the affair of the moment.

"Mister," began Melky, pulling up a chair to Purdie's side, and assuming a
tone and manner of implicit confidence. "I've heard of you. Me and Mr.
Lauriston's close friends. My name's Mr. Rubinstein--Mr. Melchior
Rubinstein, commonly called Melky. I know all about you--you're the friend
that Lauriston asked for a bit of help to see him through, like--ain't it?
Just so--and you sent him twenty pounds to be going on with--which he got,
all right, last night. Also, same time, he got another twenty quid for
two of his lit'ry works--stories, mister. Mister!--I wish he'd got your
money and the other money just an hour before it come to hand! S'elp me!--
if them there letters had only come in by one post earlier, it 'ud ha'
saved a heap o' trouble!"

"I haven't the remotest notion of what you're talking about, you know,"
said Purdie good-naturedly. "You evidently know more than I do. I knew
Andie Lauriston well enough up to the time he left Peebles, but I've never
seen or heard of him since until he wrote to me the other week. What's it
all about, and why has he gone back to Peebles? I told him I was coming up
here any day now--and here I am, and he's gone!"

Melky edged his chair still nearer to his visitor, and with a cautious
glance at the door, lowered his voice.

"I'm a-going to tell you all about it, mister," he said. "I know you
Scotch gentlemen have got rare headpieces on you, and you'll pick it up
sharp enough. Now you listen to me, Mr. Purdie, same as if I was one of
them barrister chaps stating a case, and you'll get at it in no time."

John Purdie, who had already recognized his host as a character, as
interesting as he was amusing, listened attentively while Melky told the
story of Lauriston's doings and adventure from the moment of his setting
out to pawn his watch at Multenius's pledge-office to that in which, on
Melky's suggestion, he had made a secret and hurried departure for
Peebles. Melky forgot no detail; he did full justice to every important
point, and laid particular stress on the proceedings before the Coroner.
And in the end he appealed confidently to his listener.

"And now I put it up to you, mister--straight!" concluded Melky. "Could I
ha' done better for him than to give him the advice I did? Wasn't it best
for him to go where he could get some evidence on his own behalf, than to
run the risk of being arrested, and put where he couldn't do nothing for
himself? What d'you say, now, Mr. Purdie?"

"Yes," agreed Purdie, after a moment's further thought. "I think you did
well. He'll no doubt be able to find some old friends in Peebles who can
surely remember that his mother did possess those two rings. But you must
bear this in mind--the police, you say, have shadowed him since yesterday
afternoon. Well, when they find he's flown, they'll take that as a strong
presumptive evidence of guilt. They'll say he's flying from justice!"

"Don't matter, mister, if Lauriston comes back with proof of his
innocence," replied Melky.

"Yes, but they'll not wait for that," said Purdie. "They'll set the hue-
and-cry on to him--at once. He's not the sort to be easily mistaken or
overlooked--unless he's changed a lot this late year or two--he was always
a good-looking lad."

"Is so now, mister," remarked Melky, "is so now!"

"Very well," continued Purdie. "Then I want to make a suggestion to you.
It seems to me that the wisest course is for you and me to go straight to
the police authorities, and tell them frankly that Lauriston has gone to
get evidence that those rings are really his property, and that he'll
return in a day or two with that evidence. That will probably satisfy
them--I think I can add a bit more that will help further. We don't want
it to be thought that the lad's run away rather than face a possible
charge of murder, you know!"

"I see your point, mister, I see your point!" agreed Melky. "I'm with
you!--I ain't no objection to that. Of course, there ain't no need to tell
the police precisely where he has gone--what?"

"Not a bit!" said Purdie. "But I'll make myself responsible to them for
his re-appearance. Now--did you and he arrange anything about
communicating with each other?"

"Yes," replied Melky. "If anything turns up this next day or two I'm to
wire to him at the post-office, Peebles. If he finds what he wants, he'll
wire to me, here, at once."

"Good!" said Purdie. "Now, here's another matter. You've mentioned Mr.
Spencer Levendale and this book which was so strangely left at the pledge-
office. I happen to know Mr. Levendale--pretty well."

"You do, mister!" exclaimed Melky. "Small world, ain't it, now?"

"I met Mr. Spencer Levendale last September--two months ago," continued
Purdie. "He was staying at an hotel in the Highlands, with his children
and their governess: I was at the same hotel, for a month--he and I used
to go fishing together. We got pretty friendly, and he asked me to call on
him next time I was in town. Here I am--and when we've been to the police,
I'm going to Sussex Square--to tell him I'm a friend of Lauriston's, that
Lauriston is in some danger over this business, and to ask him if he can
tell me more about--that book!"

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