Beck Center English Dept. University Libraries Emory University
Emory Women Writers Resource Project Collections:
Women's Genre Fiction Project

The Adventures of a Lady Pearl-Broker, an electronic edition

by Beatrice Heron-Maxwell [Heron-Maxwell, Beatrice, d. 1927]

date: 1899
source publisher: The New Century Press, Limited
collection: Genre Fiction

Table of Contents

<< chapter 1

Display page layout

| | 127

CHAPTER VIII.

"ARE you sure that you have recovered from your last unlucky experience?" said Mr. Leighton doubtfully to me, when I presented myself at his office and asked for some work.

"Quite sure," I answered; "and, indeed, though it is not pleasant to be scorched, I cannot call my last adventure an unlucky one, since it has been the means of bringing happiness to two people, and setting right a very grave mistake. I have been idle some time now, Mr. Leighton, and you must really let me return to business. Is there any special thing on hand that I can assist you in?"

"Well," he said, "I have been asked to supply some curious specimens of pearls to an old gentleman who is interested in them. I fancy he is a man of many hobbies, and that his latest is the acquisition of quaint, unset gems. He does not insist on their beauty or | | 128 great value, provided that they are uncommon."

"And have you found any for him?" I asked.

"Here are one or two he might possibly fancy," replied Mr. Leighton, unlocking a drawer and handing me a case.

The pearls inside, seven in number, were, I could see at once, not very good, but were all of singular shapes; one exactly resembling a tortoise, another a beetle, and a third a human heart. This last was set as a pin, and was transfixed by a diamond dagger, tipped with rubies.

"I could send these by post," said Mr. Leighton, "but, if you like to take them to him on approval, it is possible you may arrange some further dealings with him. He lives a little way out of town, just beyond Brentham, and I hear is a bachelor, well off, and leading the life of a recluse, always engrossed in some new fad. Here are the name and address," he said, handing me a card, on which I read:

MR. PHILIP MAGNUS,
The Gables, nr. Brentham.
| | 129

"I think I may as well go," I said, "if you have nothing else for me to do just now. It may lead to something further."

"Yes," he assented, "only I do trust, Mrs. Delamere, that the something further may not be any new and startling adventure for you. Pray, be careful, and if Mr. Philip Magnus does not seem a desirable client from a personal point of view, have nothing to do with him, and bring the pearls back."

I promised to be very cautious, and, having arranged an appointment by letter with Mr. Magnus, I found my way to The Gables, taking the train to Brentham, and driving from the station in a fly.

The house was a mile or two out, and stood quite by itself in a large garden at the end of a straggling bit of common.

"You can wait for me," I said to the cabman, as we drew up at the outside gate, beyond which only a footpath was discernible, winding away through close shrubs.

"Sorry I can't do that, my lady," was the reply, "I'm engaged to meet a party coming | | 130 down by the next train. I could come back for you in an hour or two."

I told him with vexation that that would not do at all, and that he ought to have mentioned his engagement before we started. The only thing now was for him to send me another fly as soon as he reached the station; this he promised to do, and drove off.

It was with a certain amount of reluctance that I wended my way up the path, and arriving at the house, which was quite hidden from the road by trees, rang a very rusty, unused-looking bell that hung at the side of the door.

The sound of my departing fly wheels had already died away, and I seemed suddenly cut off from the outer world, and felt a sympathetic resemblance to Mariana of the Moated Grange stealing over me.

The door had glass panels, but they were so encrusted with dirt as to be opaque, and gave me an impression of discomfort and isolation that was not encouraging.

"I am on the right side of the door now," I reflected. "I wonder if I had better remain | | 131 there, and give up the attempt to penetrate into Mr. Philip Magnus' privacy."

But I allowed myself one moment's hesitation, and in that moment I was lost, for the door opened, and a middle-aged woman of stern demeanour, but immaculate tidiness, stood surveying me.

"What may you be pleased to want?" she asked frigidly.

Evidently I did not find favour in her sight. "I have an appointment with Mr. Magnus," I said; "can I see him?"

"I think there's some mistake," she replied, "Mr. Magnus never receives visitors. He is expecting someone now on business."

"Yes, that is quite right," I said, "I have come on business," adding, as she still barred the doorway, "from Mr. Leighton."

"Oh," she said, reluctantly moving aside, "then I suppose you must come in. I understood it was a gentleman Mr. Magnus expected."

She looked curiously at me, as though questions were hovering on her lips, but I | | 132 declined further parley, and, stepping in gave her my card. She went away with it and during the moments that followed I was struck anew by the loneliness and silence of the place.

Returning, she signed to me to follow her up-stairs, which I was proceeding to do when she stopped half-way, and said suddenly: "Mr. Magnus is rather a strange gentleman. It's years since he has seen any woman to speak to except me. I'm used to his ways, but a stranger might not understand them. He means no harm, only he's queer."

"Oh, I dare say it will be all right," I said with a cheerfulness that I confess was assumed.

She still eyed me doubtfully.

"He had a trouble some years ago, to do with a lady," she said; "he lost someone he was fond of. As long as you don't remind him of her it won't matter though."

"I shall certainly not do so," I remarked. "But if you think Mr. Magnus is likely to be upset at seeing me, perhaps I had better not go up."

| | 133

"I'm afraid it would disappoint him now," she said. "He's been looking forward to having some new toys for his collection. Only I thought I would warn you that he's queer."

And with this reassuring speech she led the way to a room on the first floor, and announced me.

As I passed her in the doorway she pointed to another room opposite, and said in a low voice:

"I shall be in there."

Then I found myself confronting Mr. Philip Magnus.

He was a benevolent, rather nice-looking elderly man, clad in a flowered dressing gown, that trailed on the ground, with a skull-cap on his head; and he was sitting in pleased contemplation of a table laden with cases of all shapes and sizes, some open, some shut, all containing apparently the treasures he had been collecting. The walls were hung with odds-and-ends of every conceivable description and nationality, and the tables and cabinets and even the chairs were covered with bric à | | 134 brac, some portions carefully assorted and labelled; others mingled together anyhow as though their owner's interest had suddenly failed.

The chair in which Mr. Magnus sat was in an angle of the wall, and he seemed to be almost blocked in by the huge table in front of him. I noticed that on the wall close to him hung the pulley of a lock; one of those old-fashioned locks which consist of a brass bolt suspended from a cord, and a socket fastened on to the door of the room. The suspending cord ran round the edge of the ceiling to Mr. Magnus' favourite corner, and then dropped within reach of his hand; so that he could lock or unlock the door of the room without moving.

He rose and bowed, looking at me in a stealthy way from under his eyelids that I did not much appreciate; then edged himself out of the recess and came towards me.

I handed to him the case of pearls with a few brief words of explanation.

| | 135

I noticed that in taking them from me his hands shook perceptibly, and he gave me another quick stealthy glance.

He walked, without replying, to the table, and opening the case, began talking to himself.

"So like," I could hear him muttering, "so very like. But why does she come with the pearls? Does she want to gain forgiveness through the pearls?"

I felt a little uneasy, and wondered whether the housekeeper was within reach of the sound of my voice.

He was still standing with his back to me, and I could see that he was holding the heart-shaped pearl and examining it intently.

I told him in the most matter-of-fact tone I could assume that I did not recommend the pin as a jewel, merely as a curio; but that, if he preferred to have valuable pearls for his collection, Mr. Leighton would be pleased to procure them.

He listened attentively, and said, without turning round.

"What is the history of this one?"

| | 136

"I don't know;" I answered. "Possibly it may have one, but it has not been told to me."

He looked at all the other pearls in turn, then went back to the heart, and again he began murmuring to himself.

"A heart," he said; "mine--pierced with a dagger--a dagger tipped with blood. Treachery was the dagger she used--black treachery. I swore I would kill her for it."

Then he wheeled round suddenly.

"What have you come back for?" he said more loudly.

I rose to my feet, and looked him straight in the face.

"I don't understand you, Mr. Magnus," I said. "I think you are mistaking me for someone else."

"No," he said, "there is no mistake this time. I was sure you would come back some day, and I knew you as soon as you came in."

He took a step towards me, and though I was still not greatly alarmed, believing that he was a harmless lunatic who wanted humouring | | 137 and controlling, I thought it might be wise to retreat.

I therefore backed away from him towards the door, but with a movement as rapid as it was unexpected, he turned, ran round the table into the corner, and released the pulley.

Instantly the lock fell into the socket on the door, and I was a prisoner.

Even if I could have reached the door I was powerless to get out, for the lock was high up on the top panel beyond my reach. But yet I did not feel at all overcome with fright. The housekeeper was within call; surely no great harm could happen to me.

Nevertheless, the face that was now looking at me was very different from the one I had seen on entering. Then it had worn a bland smile and was almost childlike in its expression; now it looked mad, and there was a cunning leer in eye and mouth that foreboded evil.

"I must ask you to unlock the door, Mr. Magnus. I have other appointments to keep. I can come back another day when you have | | 138 decided about the jewels," I said very quietly and distinctly.

He began feeling about with one hand amongst the cases on the table, in a strange, covert manner, while with the other he pointed towards me.

"No, you don't go," he said, "you will stay here now, with me--always with me. It was foolish of you to come back--I warned you not to--you stabbed my heart with a dagger; you killed me with poisoned words and false kisses, and then you laughed. Yes, you laughed when my heart was bleeding; you didn't care--and you went away on his arm, and I vowed if I ever saw you again I would kill you--I'm going to kill you now; I'm going to pierce your heart, as you pierced mine, and laugh as you laughed at me."

He had found what he was searching for on the table; a long, narrow case, and when he pressed the spring I saw that inside lay a stiletto.

And I realised all at once, with a flash of sickening terror, that whatever he had been up | | 139 to the moment I came, he was a raving madman now, and that I was alone in the room with him, with a locked door between me and any possible help.

He had taken the stiletto from its case, and was beginning to creep round the edge of the table towards me.

I dared not lose another moment.

With a loud call for help, I darted to the other side of the table, and made a dash for the pulley.

But, quick as lightning, he pushed the table towards me, jamming me securely between it and the wall, with my outstretched hand just a foot away from the cord on which my salvation depended.

And then he laughed, and I turned a little dizzy, for a madman's laugh at such close quarters is not good to hear, or to see. The woman was battering now at the door, calling incoherently to him to open it, and to me to tell her what was the matter. He paid no attention to her cries. I do not think he heard them. He leant forward over the table, the | | 140 length of which just prevented his reaching me, and struck towards me with the stiletto, laughing all the time. I summoned all my strength to push the table away, and release myself sufficiently to reach the pulley.

Useless! What was my power compared to a maniac's? He held me there, securely pinioned.

"Get someone to break the door open," I shouted to the woman outside, and I heard her run along the passage, screaming wildly. Then a new thought seemed to flash into his mind.

"I must be quick," he said, and he pulled a chair towards him, and began to wedge it between the table and the wall behind him.

I felt desperate. The woman had ceased calling, and must have run out into the garden, for there was no sound at all in the house; in another second Mr. Magnus would come to my side of the table, and it would be a struggle at close quarters, with long odds on his side, since he was armed and free.

I gave one piercing scream for help; the next instant Mr. Magnus had sprung towards me, and I was struggling for my life.

| | 141

To me it seemed an eternity; but in reality it cannot have lasted a moment, for just as my frenzied grasp of his wrist relaxed, there was a crash of broken glass, and with a bound a man had leapt from the window-sill across the room, and seizing the madman from behind, dragged him off me.

I don't know what happened during the next quarter of an hour, for though I was not unconscious, I was too shaken to realize what was going on; but at the end of that time I found that Mr. Magnus, dissolved in imbecile tears, was lying, bound and helpless, in an arm-chair, with a huge, stalwart man standing over him, while the housekeeper was hovering round me, sobbing out distraught apologies.

"I knew he was queer," she reiterated, "but I never thought he would break out like that. You must have reminded him somehow of the lady that jilted him, and that always did upset him. Dear, dear, another minute, and he would have killed you!"

"What are you going to do with him now?" I asked. "It is most unsafe--he is quite mad."

| | 142

"Oh, my husband will look after him right enough," she answered, indicating the stalwart man. "He would never have left the house at all, if he had known a lady was coming. But we will send for the doctor, the one that knows Mr. Magnus, and if he must be put away, why he must be. Only it means the loss of home and wages to us."

The sound of approaching wheels told me that my cab had come, and so thankful was I at my newly-regained safety that I am afraid I did not trouble my head with any further considerations as to the advisability of Mr. Magnus being at large. I simply gathered up my small amount of remaining strength and fled from The Gables, shaking the dust thereof from my feet, and thinking how very unpleasant it would have been if the housekeeper's husband had come just too late, and Mr. Magnus had succeeded in plunging his stiletto into my heart.

To Mr. Leighton I merely said that, as Mr. Magnus did not seem quite right in his head, I had not pursued negotiations with him, and | | 143 that I thought the best plan would be to write about the pearls. This he accordingly did, and receiving a cheque by return of post, the matter dropped.

But I have often thought of my narrow escape, and wondered whether Mr. Philip Magnus, of The Gables, near Brentham, will yet succeed in avenging his wrongs, and also whether in such a risky profession as pearl-broking the game was always worth the candle.

At all events, I resolved that I would have no more private interviews with unknown customers, and that in future discretion should take the place of valour with me.

<< chapter 1