Favart recovered his wits. He ceased to struggle.

"What does this outrage mean?" he asked, and one of the men drew a warrant and notebook from his pocket.

"You are arrested for the murder of Mrs. Blumenstein in the Semiramis Hotel," he said, "and I have to warn you that anything you may say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you."

"Preposterous!" exclaimed Favart. "There's a mistake. We will go along to the police and put it right. Where's your evidence against me?"

Hanaud stepped out of the doorway of the dressing-room.

"In the property-room of the theatre," he said.

At the sight of him Favart uttered a violent cry of rage. "You are here, too, are you?" he screamed, and he sprang at Hanaud's throat.

Hanaud stepped lightly aside. Favart was borne down to the ground, and when he stood up again the handcuffs were on his wrists.

Favart was led away, and Hanaud turned to Mr. Ricardo and Clements.

"Let us go to the property-room," he said. They pa.s.sed along the corridor, and Ricardo noticed that Calladine was no longer with them.

He turned and saw him standing outside Joan Carew's dressing-room.

"He would like to come, of course," said Ricardo.

"Would he?" asked Hanaud. "Then why doesn't he? He's quite grown up, you know," and he slipped his arm through Ricardo's and led him back across the stage. In the property-room there was already a detective in plain clothes. Mr. Ricardo had still not as yet guessed the truth.

"What is it you really want, sir?" the property-master asked of the director.

"Only the jewels of the Madonna," Hanaud answered.

The property-master unlocked a cupboard and took from it the sparkling cuira.s.s. Hanaud pointed to it, and there, lost amongst the huge glittering stones of paste and false pearls, Mrs. Blumenstein's necklace was entwined.

"Then that is why Favart came always to Covent Garden when _The Jewels of the Madonna_ was being performed!" exclaimed Ricardo.

Hanaud nodded.

"He came to watch over his treasure."

Ricardo was piecing together the sections of the puzzle.

"No doubt he knew of the necklace in America. No doubt he followed it to England."

Hanaud agreed.

"Mrs. Blumenstein's jewels were quite famous in New York."

"But to hide them here!" cried Mr. Clements. "He must have been mad."

"Why?" asked Hanaud. "Can you imagine a safer hiding-place? Who is going to burgle the property-room of Covent Garden? Who is going to look for a priceless string of pearls amongst the stage jewels of an opera house?"

"You did," said Mr. Ricardo.

"I?" replied Hanaud, shrugging his shoulders. "Joan Carew's dreams led me to Andre Favart. The first time we came here and saw the pearls of the Madonna, I was on the look-out, naturally. I noticed Favart at the back of the stalls. But it was a stroke of luck that I noticed those pearls through my opera gla.s.ses."

"At the end of the second act?" cried Ricardo suddenly. "I remember now."

"Yes," replied Hanaud. "But for that second act the pearls would have stayed comfortably here all through the season. Carmen Valeri--a fool as I told you--would have tossed them about in her dressing-room without a notion of their value, and at the end of July, when the murder at the Semiramis Hotel had been forgotten, Favart would have taken them to Amsterdam and made his bargain."

"Shall we go?"

They left the theatre together and walked down to the grill-room of the Semiramis. But as Hanaud looked through the gla.s.s door he drew back.

"We will not go in, I think, eh?"

"Why?" asked Ricardo.

Hanaud pointed to a table. Calladine and Joan Carew were seated at it taking their supper.

"Perhaps," said Hanaud with a smile, "perhaps, my friend--what? Who shall say that the rooms in the Adelphi will not be given up?"

They turned away from the hotel. But Hanaud was right, and before the season was over Mr. Ricardo had to put his hand in his pocket for a wedding present.

UNDER BIGNOR HILL

UNDER BIGNOR HILL[1]

The action of the play takes place on a night in summer at the foot of Bignor Hill on the north side of the Suss.e.x Downs. The time is that of the Roman occupation of England. In the foreground is an open s.p.a.ce of turf surrounded with gorse-bushes. The turf rises in a steep bank at the back and melts into the side of the hill. The left of the stage is closed in by a wooded spur of the hill. The scene is wild and revealed by a strong moonlight. A fallen tree-trunk lies on the right, and a raised bank is at the left of the stage.

On the summit of the hill the glow of a camp-fire is seen, and from time to time a flame leaps up as though fuel had been added. Towards the end of the play the fire dies down and goes out.

When the curtain rises the stage is empty, but a sound of men marching is faintly heard. The sound is heard in pauses throughout the first part of the play.

[_Gleva enters from the R. She is a British princess, clothed in skins. But she has added to her dress some of the refinements of the conquerors--a shirt of fine linen, the high sandals of the Roman lady, the Roman comb in her hair, some jewellery, a necklace of stones, and bracelets. She is followed by three men of her tribe, wild men in skins, armed with knives, and flint axes carried at the waist. Gleva comes forward silently into the open s.p.a.ce of turf_.]

Gleva: No one!

Bran: The trumpet has not sounded the last call on the hill.

Gleva: No. Yet the hour for it is past. By now the camp should be asleep. (_She looks up the hill and then turns to her men_.) Be ready to light the torch.

Caransius: Everything is strange to-day.

[_He sits R. under the shelter of a bush, and with a flint and steel kindles a tiny flame during the following scene. He has a torch in his hand which he lays by his side. When the fire is lighted he blows on it from time to time to keep it alight_.]

Bran: Yes. And yesterday. For many months we have been left in quiet.