The Secret of Lonesome Cove Part 39

Happiness, like the soft moon glow, has beamed upon it, and will again beam, in fuller effulgence."

With beautifully modulated intonations he proceeded, while one of his visitors regarded him with awestruck reverence, and the other waited with patience-but unimpressed, so the orator felt, by his gifts. His voice sank, by deep-toned gradations into silence. The ray winked out.

Then the woman spoke.

"Is it possible for your stars to guide me to an object which I have lost?"

"Nothing is hidden from the stars," declared their master. "Their radiance s.h.i.+nes not alone upon the broad expanses of existence, but also into the smallest crevices of life. You seek jewels, madam?" (Kent had let this much out, as if by accident, in the morning's conversation.)

"Yes."

"Your birth stone is the bloodstone. Unhappy, indeed, would be the omen if you lost one of those gems." (He was fis.h.i.+ng and came forward toward her, almost brus.h.i.+ng Kent.)

"But I say," cried Kent in apparently uncontrollable agitation; "did your stars tell you that she had lost some jewelry? Tell me, is that how you knew?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: _See how the aural light seeks it._]

In his eagerness he caught at the astrologer's arm, the right one, and his long fingers, gathering in the ample folds of the gown, pressed nervously upon the wrist. Preston Jax winced away. All the excited vapidity pa.s.sed from Kent's speech at once.

"The jewels which this lady has lost," he said very quietly, "are a set of unique rose-topazes. I thought-in fact, I felt that you could, with or without the aid of your stars, help her to recover them."

Blackness, instant and impenetrable, was the answer to this. There was a subdued flowing sound of drapery, as if some one were brus.h.i.+ng along the wall. Kent raised his voice the merest trifle.

"Unless you wish to be arrested, I advise you not to leave this place.

Not by either exit."

"Arrested on what charge?" came half-chokingly out of the darkness.

"Theft."

"I didn't take them."

"Murder, then."

"My G.o.d!" So abject was the terror and misery in the cry that Kent felt sorry for the wretch. Then, with a certain dogged bitterness: "I don't care what you know; I didn't kill her."

"That is very likely true," replied Kent soothingly. "But it is what I must know in detail. Find your foot lever and turn on the light."

The two visitors could hear him grope heavily. As the light flashed on, they saw, with a shock, that he was on all fours. It was as if Kent's word had felled him. Instantly he was up, however, and faced around upon Marjorie Blair.

"Who was she?" he demanded. "Your sister?"

Mrs. Blair was very pale, but her eyes were steady and her voice under control as she answered:

"I do not know."

"You must know! Don't torture me! I'm a rat in a trap."

"I'm sorry," she said gently, "that I can't help you. But I do not know."

"You, then." The Star-master turned upon Kent. "What am I up against?

How did you find me?"

Thrusting his hand in his pocket the scientist brought out a little patch of black cloth, with a single star skilfully embroidered on it.

"Wild blackberry has long thorns and sharp," he said. "You left this tatter on Hawkill Cliffs."

At the name, the man's chin muscle throbbed with his effort to hold his teeth steady against chattering.

"At first I suspected an army officer. When I found that the cloth was below grade, the only other starred profession I could think of was astrology. As the highest cla.s.s astrologer now advertising, you seemed likely to be the man. When I found, first, that you were out of town on July fifth, and, just now, by a somewhat rough experiment, that you had suffered a wound of the right wrist, I was certain."

"What do you want?"

"A fair exchange. My name is Chester Kent."

The Star-master's chin worked convulsively. "The Kent that broke up the Coordinated Spiritism Circle?"

"Yes."

"It's ill bargaining with the devil," observed Preston Jax grimly.

"What's the exchange?"

"I do not believe that you are guilty of murder. Tell me the whole story, plainly and straight, and I'll clear you in so far as I can believe you innocent."

For the first time the seer's chin was at peace.

"You want me to begin with this lady's necklace?"

"Why, yes. But after that, begin at the beginning."

"The topazes are cached under a rock near the cliff. I couldn't direct you, but I could show you."

"In time you shall. One moment. As you realize, you are under presumption of murder. Do you know the ident.i.ty of the victim?"

"Of Astraea? That's all I know about her. I don't even know her last name."

"Why Astraea?"

"That's the way she signed herself. She seemed to think I knew all about her, without being told."

"And you played up to that belief?"

"Well-of course I did."

"Yes, you naturally would. But if you had no name to write to, how could you answer the letters?"

"Through personal advertis.e.m.e.nts. She had made out a code. She was a smart one in some ways, I can tell you."

"Have you any of the letters here?"