The Diamond Pin Part 20

She ran over some bundles of letters, hoping to find a penciled memorandum on the backs, that had been hitherto unnoticed.

Nothing met her eye that seemed important, and she turned from the desk, her glance falling on the cretonne window curtains that overhung the lighter lace ones.

"Come out!" she cried, and then quickly, "no, _don't_ come out! Stay where you are! Who are you?"

The curtain moved very slightly, and Iris rose, and stood, holding the back of her chair. Her heart was beating wildly, for though possessed of average courage, to be alone at midnight in a room of sinister memories, and see the folds of a curtain sway ever so little is, to say the least, disturbing.

"Who are you, I say!" she repeated angrily, but there was no response, and the curtain hung still.

A terror pa.s.sed through her, and left her s.h.i.+vering, with an icy grip at her heart. Though not at all inclined toward a belief in the supernatural, there was an uncanny feeling in the atmosphere and Iris trembled with a strange, weird feeling, as of impending disaster. She edged a step backward, but as she did so the curtain was flung aside, and a man stood disclosed--a tall figure, with strong, muscular frame, and arms extended in a threatening gesture.

"Not a word!" he whispered, "not a sound!" and the glint of a small revolver flashed toward her. But she was too petrified with fear to speak, for the man was masked, and the effect of the blackavised apparition took her breath away. Only for a moment, however, and then a wave of relief surged over her. For, alarming as a human intruder may be, he is less frightful than a supernatural visitant.

The color came back to her white cheeks, and she said scornfully, "I am not afraid of you----"

"You'd better be, then," and the man moved nearer to her. "I've no wish to harm you, but if you raise an alarm, I shall consider my own safety first!"

"Coward!"

"Nonsense! I don't mean before yours, you've nothing to fear. But if you're inclined to call help, I'll have to make it impossible for you to do so."

The voice was that of an educated man, but entirely unfamiliar to Iris.

Her terror left her, as she realized that at least she hadn't to deal with a low-cla.s.s, uncouth ruffian.

"Why should I call help, since you say I've nothing to fear?" she said, trying to speak coolly, but still watching the carefully held pistol.

"Nothing to fear if you do as I say."

"And what do you say?"

The masked figure came a little nearer. "I say----" he began, but Iris interrupted.

"Stay where you are! I am not afraid of your pistol; your voice tells me you would not shoot a defenceless woman, but I command you to keep your distance."

"My voice belies me, then," he returned coolly. "I'd shoot you quicker'n a wink, were it necessary to make my getaway. But, listen; you will be immediately unmolested, if you give me what I have come here to get. I advise you to give it willingly, but if not--then I must get it as best I can."

"Take off your mask, won't you?" and Iris' tone was almost formal. "I know you, don't I?"

"You do not, and something tells me you never will. Pardon me, if I retain my protecting decoration----"

"Scarcely a decoration," murmured Iris, who was striving to think quickly what to do.

"Thank you; that implies your belief in a fair share of good looks on my part. But that's a matter of no moment. And time pa.s.ses. I am here to ask you for a matter of no great moment after all. I want the pin that your late aunt left you in her will."

"Oh, then you are William Ashton?"

"Careful! Not so loud. Yes--I am none other than he." A mock dramatic gesture accompanied the phrase, and Iris involuntarily smiled.

"You are charming when you smile," the visitor went on. "I may say that, since I am not making a social call----"

"You seem to be, I think," Iris interrupted him.

"Far from it! You are under a distinct misapprehension. But, alas! your smiles and charms are not the prize I'm seeking. I want that pin," for the first time he spoke a little roughly, "and I'm going to have it!"

"What under the heavens do you want of that pin?" exclaimed Iris, surprised beyond all thought of fear. She had at first supposed he was after the jewels, or money, at least.

"Never mind what for. Are you going to hand it over?"

"I suppose you are making a collection of dramatic trifles, like Mr.

Pollock. It seems to be a popular pursuit, this gathering material for a miniature junk-shop!"

"So? Well, are you going to give it to me? Why didn't you put it on the gate post to-night?"

"For the very good reason that I haven't got it."

"Don't talk that useless chatter. Of course you have it."

"But I haven't. I threw it away, when the lawyer gave it to me, and----"

"No; you didn't. You only pretended to. Come; now, where is it?"

"Will you go away if I give it to you?" Iris was struck with an idea.

"If you give me your word of honor that you're giving me the right one."

This dissuaded her, for she had intended to give him one from her belt ribbon.

"I tell you I don't _know_ where it is. Now, cease this useless interview, please, and leave me."

"I'll do nothing of the sort! You know where that pin is, and I am sure it's hidden in this room--"

"How utterly absurd you are! Why, _why_ do you want it? I believe you're crazy!"

"I'm not, as you'll find out! But I intend to have the pin, so make up your mind to that!" He sprang toward her, laying his automatic on a table, and with a single gesture, it seemed to Iris, he had a soft silk handkerchief tied over her mouth, and around her head, in such fas.h.i.+on that she couldn't utter a sound.

"I'm sorry, as I told you," he went on, in a business-like voice, "but I _must_ obtain that little piece of property. Will you change your mind and tell me where it is?"

Iris shook her head vigorously, meaning that she did not know where it was, but he chose to think she meant a mere negative.

"Then I'll make you!" and he took hold of her arm and twisted it. She moaned with pain, but he picked up the revolver and threatened her.

Iris was now really frightened, and realized that his gentler mood had pa.s.sed, and she was in desperate danger. She cast appealing glances at him, but he was oblivious to her piteous eyes, and demanded the pin.

Suddenly the thought came to her that the man was crazy, really a maniac, and in view of this she determined to use her wits to extricate herself from this dangerous situation. If demented, he might shoot her as likely as not, and she thought deeply and carefully what it was best to do. He was distinctly clever, as she had heard maniacs often are, so she dared not fool him too openly.

Therefore, she acted rather defiantly, until, as she had hoped, this att.i.tude on her part brought a rough, hard twist of her slender arm, that really brought the tears to her eyes.

With a limp gesture of surrender, she nodded her head at him, while pain contorted her face.