The Project Gutenberg Etext of New Arabian Nights

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Francis listened in profound humiliation. He would have fled had
it been possible; but as he had no means of leaving the residence
into which he had so unfortunately penetrated, he could do no more
than stand foolishly where he was.

It was Miss Vandeleur who broke the silence.

"Father," she said, "you speak in anger. Mr. Scrymgeour may have
been mistaken, but he meant well and kindly."

"Thank you for speaking," returned the Dictator. "You remind me of
some other observations which I hold it a point of honour to make
to Mr. Scrymgeour. My brother," he continued, addressing the young
man, "has been foolish enough to give you an allowance; he was
foolish enough and presumptuous enough to propose a match between
you and this young lady. You were exhibited to her two nights ago;
and I rejoice to tell you that she rejected the idea with disgust.
Let me add that I have considerable influence with your father; and
it shall not be my fault if you are not beggared of your allowance
and sent back to your scrivening ere the week be out."

The tones of the old man's voice were, if possible, more wounding
than his language; Francis felt himself exposed to the most cruel,
blighting, and unbearable contempt; his head turned, and he covered
his face with his hands, uttering at the same time a tearless sob
of agony. But Miss Vandeleur once again interfered in his behalf.

"Mr. Scrymgeour," she said, speaking in clear and even tones, "you
must not be concerned at my father's harsh expressions. I felt no
disgust for you; on the contrary, I asked an opportunity to make
your better acquaintance. As for what has passed to-night, believe
me it has filled my mind with both pity and esteem."

Just then Mr. Rolles made a convulsive movement with his arm, which
convinced Francis that he was only drugged, and was beginning to
throw off the influence of the opiate. Mr. Vandeleur stooped over
him and examined his face for an instant.

"Come, come!" cried he, raising his head. "Let there be an end of
this. And since you are so pleased with his conduct, Miss
Vandeleur, take a candle and show the bastard out."

The young lady hastened to obey.

"Thank you," said Francis, as soon as he was alone with her in the
garden. "I thank you from my soul. This has been the bitterest
evening of my life, but it will have always one pleasant
recollection."

"I spoke as I felt," she replied, "and in justice to you. It made
my heart sorry that you should be so unkindly used."

By this time they had reached the garden gate; and Miss Vandeleur,
having set the candle on the ground, was already unfastening the
bolts.

"One word more," said Francis. "This is not for the last time - I
shall see you again, shall I not?"

"Alas!" she answered. "You have heard my father. What can I do
but obey?"

"Tell me at least that it is not with your consent," returned
Francis; "tell me that you have no wish to see the last of me."

"Indeed," replied she, "I have none. You seem to me both brave and
honest."

"Then," said Francis, "give me a keepsake."

She paused for a moment, with her hand upon the key; for the
various bars and bolts were all undone, and there was nothing left
but to open the lock.

"If I agree," she said, "will you promise to do as I tell you from
point to point?"

"Can you ask?" replied Francis. "I would do so willingly on your
bare word."

She turned the key and threw open the door.

"Be it so," said she. "You do not know what you ask, but be it so.
Whatever you hear," she continued, "whatever happens, do not return
to this house; hurry fast until you reach the lighted and populous
quarters of the city; even there be upon your guard. You are in a
greater danger than you fancy. Promise me you will not so much as
look at my keepsake until you are in a place of safety."

"I promise," replied Francis.

She put something loosely wrapped in a handkerchief into the young
man's hand; and at the same time, with more strength than he could
have anticipated, she pushed him into the street.

"Now, run!" she cried.

He heard the door close behind him, and the noise of the bolts
being replaced.

"My faith," said he, "since I have promised!"

And he took to his heels down the lane that leads into the Rue
Ravignan.

He was not fifty paces from the house with the green blinds when
the most diabolical outcry suddenly arose out of the stillness of
the night. Mechanically he stood still; another passenger followed
his example; in the neighbouring floors he saw people crowding to
the windows; a conflagration could not have produced more
disturbance in this empty quarter. And yet it seemed to be all the
work of a single man, roaring between grief and rage, like a
lioness robbed of her whelps; and Francis was surprised and alarmed
to hear his own name shouted with English imprecations to the wind.

His first movement was to return to the house; his second, as he
remembered Miss Vandeleur's advice, to continue his flight with
greater expedition than before; and he was in the act of turning to
put his thought in action, when the Dictator, bareheaded, bawling
aloud, his white hair blowing about his head, shot past him like a
ball out of the cannon's mouth, and went careering down the street.

"That was a close shave," thought Francis to himself. "What he
wants with me, and why he should be so disturbed, I cannot think;
but he is plainly not good company for the moment, and I cannot do
better than follow Miss Vandeleur's advice."

So saying, he turned to retrace his steps, thinking to double and
descend by the Rue Lepic itself while his pursuer should continue
to follow after him on the other line of street. The plan was ill-
devised: as a matter of fact, he should have taken his seat in the
nearest cafe, and waited there until the first heat of the pursuit
was over. But besides that Francis had no experience and little
natural aptitude for the small war of private life, he was so
unconscious of any evil on his part, that he saw nothing to fear
beyond a disagreeable interview. And to disagreeable interviews he
felt he had already served his apprenticeship that evening; nor
could he suppose that Miss Vandeleur had left anything unsaid.
Indeed, the young man was sore both in body and mind - the one was
all bruised, the other was full of smarting arrows; and he owned to
himself that Mr. Vandeleur was master of a very deadly tongue.

The thought of his bruises reminded him that he had not only come
without a hat, but that his clothes had considerably suffered in
his descent through the chestnut. At the first magazine he
purchased a cheap wideawake, and had the disorder of his toilet
summarily repaired. The keepsake, still rolled in the
handkerchief, he thrust in the meanwhile into his trousers pocket.

Not many steps beyond the shop he was conscious of a sudden shock,
a hand upon his throat, an infuriated face close to his own, and an
open mouth bawling curses in his ear. The Dictator, having found
no trace of his quarry, was returning by the other way. Francis
was a stalwart young fellow; but he was no match for his adversary
whether in strength or skill; and after a few ineffectual struggles
he resigned himself entirely to his captor.

"What do you want with me?" said he.

"We will talk of that at home," returned the Dictator grimly.

And he continued to march the young man up hill in the direction of
the house with the green blinds.

But Francis, although he no longer struggled, was only waiting an
opportunity to make a bold push for freedom. With a sudden jerk he
left the collar of his coat in the hands of Mr. Vandeleur, and once
more made off at his best speed in the direction of the Boulevards.

The tables were now turned. If the Dictator was the stronger,
Francis, in the top of his youth, was the more fleet of foot, and
he had soon effected his escape among the crowds. Relieved for a
moment, but with a growing sentiment of alarm and wonder in his
mind, be walked briskly until he debauched upon the Place de
l'Opera, lit up like day with electric lamps.

"This, at least," thought he, "should satisfy Miss Vandeleur."

And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he entered the Cafe
Americain and ordered some beer. It was both late and early for
the majority of the frequenters of the establishment. Only two or
three persons, all men, were dotted here and there at separate
tables in the hall; and Francis was too much occupied by his own
thoughts to observe their presence.

He drew the handkerchief from his pocket. The object wrapped in it
proved to be a morocco case, clasped and ornamented in gilt, which
opened by means of a spring, and disclosed to the horrified young
man a diamond of monstrous bigness and extraordinary brilliancy.
The circumstance was so inexplicable, the value of the stone was
plainly so enormous, that Francis sat staring into the open casket
without movement, without conscious thought, like a man stricken
suddenly with idiocy.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder, lightly but firmly, and a quiet
voice, which yet had in it the ring of command, uttered these words
in his ear -

"Close the casket, and compose your face."

Looking up, he beheld a man, still young, of an urbane and tranquil
presence, and dressed with rich simplicity. This personage had
risen from a neighbouring table, and, bringing his glass with him,
had taken a seat beside Francis.

"Close the casket," repeated the stranger, "and put it quietly back
into your pocket, where I feel persuaded it should never have been.
Try, if you please, to throw off your bewildered air, and act as
though I were one of your acquaintances whom you had met by chance.
So! Touch glasses with me. That is better. I fear, sir, you must
be an amateur."

And the stranger pronounced these last words with a smile of
peculiar meaning, leaned back in his seat and enjoyed a deep
inhalation of tobacco.

"For God's sake," said Francis, "tell me who you are and what this
means? Why I should obey your most unusual suggestions I am sure I
know not; but the truth is, I have fallen this evening into so many
perplexing adventures, and all I meet conduct themselves so
strangely, that I think I must either have gone mad or wandered
into another planet. Your face inspires me with confidence; you
seem wise, good, and experienced; tell me, for heaven's sake, why
you accost me in so odd a fashion?"

"All in due time," replied the stranger. "But I have the first
hand, and you must begin by telling me how the Rajah's Diamond is
in your possession."

"The Rajah's Diamond!" echoed Francis.

"I would not speak so loud, if I were you," returned the other.
"But most certainly you have the Rajah's Diamond in your pocket. I
have seen and handled it a score of times in Sir Thomas Vandeleur's
collection."

"Sir Thomas Vandeleur! The General! My father!" cried Francis.

"Your father?" repeated the stranger. "I was not aware the General
had any family."

"I am illegitimate, sir," replied Francis, with a flush.

The other bowed with gravity. It was a respectful bow, as of a man
silently apologising to his equal; and Francis felt relieved and
comforted, he scarce knew why. The society of this person did him
good; he seemed to touch firm ground; a strong feeling of respect
grew up in his bosom, and mechanically he removed his wideawake as
though in the presence of a superior.

"I perceive," said the stranger, "that your adventures have not all
been peaceful. Your collar is torn, your face is scratched, you
have a cut upon your temple; you will, perhaps, pardon my curiosity
when I ask you to explain how you came by these injuries, and how
you happen to have stolen property to an enormous value in your
pocket."

"I must differ from you!" returned Francis hotly. "I possess no
stolen property. And if you refer to the diamond, it was given to
me not an hour ago by Miss Vandeleur in the Rue Lepic."

"By Miss Vandeleur of the Rue Lepic!" repeated the other. "You
interest me more than you suppose. Pray continue."

"Heavens!" cried Francis.

His memory had made a sudden bound. He had seen Mr. Vandeleur take
an article from the breast of his drugged visitor, and that
article, he was now persuaded, was a morocco case.

"You have a light?" inquired the stranger.

"Listen," replied Francis. "I know not who you are, but I believe
you to be worthy of confidence and helpful; I find myself in
strange waters; I must have counsel and support, and since you
invite me I shall tell you all."

And he briefly recounted his experiences since the day when he was
summoned from the bank by his lawyer.

"Yours is indeed a remarkable history," said the stranger, after
the young man had made an end of his narrative; "and your position
is full of difficulty and peril. Many would counsel you to seek
out your father, and give the diamond to him; but I have other
views. Waiter!" he cried.

The waiter drew near.

"Will you ask the manager to speak with me a moment?" said he; and
Francis observed once more, both in his tone and manner, the
evidence of a habit of command.

The waiter withdrew, and returned in a moment with manager, who
bowed with obsequious respect.

"What," said he, "can I do to serve you?"

"Have the goodness," replied the stranger, indicating Francis, "to
tell this gentleman my name."

"You have the honour, sir," said the functionary, addressing young
Scrymgeour, "to occupy the same table with His Highness Prince
Florizel of Bohemia."

Francis rose with precipitation, and made a grateful reverence to
the Prince, who bade him resume his seat.

"I thank you," said Florizel, once more addressing the functionary;
"I am sorry to have deranged you for so small a matter."

And he dismissed him with a movement of his hand.

"And now," added the Prince, turning to Francis, "give me the
diamond."

Without a word the casket was handed over.

"You have done right," said Florizel, "your sentiments have
properly inspired you, and you will live to be grateful for the
misfortunes of to-night. A man, Mr. Scrymgeour, may fall into a
thousand perplexities, but if his heart be upright and his
intelligence unclouded, he will issue from them all without
dishonour. Let your mind be at rest; your affairs are in my hand;
and with the aid of heaven I am strong enough to bring them to a
good end. Follow me, if you please, to my carriage."

So saying the Prince arose and, having left a piece of gold for the
waiter, conducted the young man from the cafe and along the
Boulevard to where an unpretentious brougham and a couple of
servants out of livery awaited his arrival.

"This carriage," said he, "is at your disposal; collect your
baggage as rapidly as you can make it convenient, and my servants
will conduct you to a villa in the neighbourhood of Paris where you
can wait in some degree of comfort until I have had time to arrange
your situation. You will find there a pleasant garden, a library
of good authors, a cook, a cellar, and some good cigars, which I
recommend to your attention. Jerome," he added, turning to one of
the servants, "you have heard what I say; I leave Mr. Scrymgeour in
your charge; you will, I know, be careful of my friend."

Francis uttered some broken phrases of gratitude.

"It will be time enough to thank me," said the Prince, "when you
are acknowledged by your father and married to Miss Vandeleur."

And with that the Prince turned away and strolled leisurely in the
direction of Montmartre. He hailed the first passing cab, gave an
address, and a quarter of an hour afterwards, having discharged the
driver some distance lower, he was knocking at Mr. Vandeleur's
garden gate.

It was opened with singular precautions by the Dictator in person.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"You must pardon me this late visit, Mr. Vandeleur," replied the
Prince.

"Your Highness is always welcome," returned Mr. Vandeleur, stepping
back.

The Prince profited by the open space, and without waiting for his
host walked right into the house and opened the door of the SALON.
Two people were seated there; one was Miss Vandeleur, who bore the
marks of weeping about her eyes, and was still shaken from time to
time by a sob; in the other the Prince recognised the young man who
had consulted him on literary matters about a month before, in a
club smoking-room.

"Good evening, Miss Vandeleur," said Florizel; "you look fatigued.
Mr. Rolles, I believe? I hope you have profited by the study of
Gaboriau, Mr. Rolles."

But the young clergyman's temper was too much embittered for
speech; and he contented himself with bowing stiffly, and continued
to gnaw his lip.

"To what good wind," said Mr. Vandeleur, following his guest, "am I
to attribute the honour of your Highness's presence?"

"I am come on business," returned the Prince; "on business with
you; as soon as that is settled I shall request Mr. Rolles to
accompany me for a walk. Mr. Rolles," he added with severity, "let
me remind you that I have not yet sat down."

The clergyman sprang to his feet with an apology; whereupon the
Prince took an armchair beside the table, handed his hat to Mr.
Vandeleur, his cane to Mr. Rolles, and, leaving them standing and
thus menially employed upon his service, spoke as follows:-

"I have come here, as I said, upon business; but, had I come
looking for pleasure, I could not have been more displeased with my
reception nor more dissatisfied with my company. You, sir,"
addressing Mr. Rolles, "you have treated your superior in station
with discourtesy; you, Vandeleur, receive me with a smile, but you
know right well that your hands are not yet cleansed from
misconduct. I do not desire to be interrupted, sir," he added
imperiously; "I am here to speak, and not to listen; and I have to
ask you to hear me with respect, and to obey punctiliously. At the
earliest possible date your daughter shall be married at the
Embassy to my friend, Francis Scrymgeour, your brother's
acknowledged son. You will oblige me by offering not less than ten
thousand pounds dowry. For yourself, I will indicate to you in
writing a mission of some importance in Siam which I destine to
your care. And now, sir, you will answer me in two words whether
or not you agree to these conditions."

"Your Highness will pardon me," said Mr. Vandeleur, "and permit me,
with all respect, to submit to him two queries?"

"The permission is granted," replied the Prince.

"Your Highness," resumed the Dictator, "has called Mr. Scrymgeour
his friend. Believe me, had I known he was thus honoured, I should
have treated him with proportional respect."

"You interrogate adroitly," said the Prince; "but it will not serve
your turn. You have my commands; if I had never seen that
gentleman before to-night, it would not render them less absolute."

"Your Highness interprets my meaning with his usual subtlety,"
returned Vandeleur. "Once more: I have, unfortunately, put the
police upon the track of Mr. Scrymgeour on a charge of theft; am I
to withdraw or to uphold the accusation?"

"You will please yourself," replied Florizel. "The question is one
between your conscience and the laws of this land. Give me my hat;
and you, Mr. Rolles, give me my cane and follow me. Miss
Vandeleur, I wish you good evening. I judge," he added to
Vandeleur, "that your silence means unqualified assent."

"If I can do no better," replied the old man, "I shall submit; but
I warn you openly it shall not be without a struggle."

"You are old," said the Prince; "but years are disgraceful to the
wicked. Your age is more unwise than the youth of others. Do not
provoke me, or you may find me harder than you dream. This is the
first time that I have fallen across your path in anger; take care
that it be the last."

With these words, motioning the clergyman to follow, Florizel left
the apartment and directed his steps towards the garden gate; and
the Dictator, following with a candle, gave them light, and once
more undid the elaborate fastenings with which he sought to protect
himself from intrusion.

"Your daughter is no longer present," said the Prince, turning on
the threshold. "Let me tell you that I understand your threats;
and you have only to lift your hand to bring upon yourself sudden
and irremediable ruin."

The Dictator made no reply; but as the Prince turned his back upon
him in the lamplight he made a gesture full of menace and insane
fury; and the next moment, slipping round a corner, he was running
at full speed for the nearest cab-stand.

(Here, says my Arabian, the thread of events is finally diverted
from THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN BLINDS. One more adventure, he adds,
and we have done with THE RAJAH'S DIAMOND. That last link in the
chain is known among the inhabitants of Bagdad by the name of THE
ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORIZEL AND A DETECTIVE.)

THE ADVENTURE OF PRINCE FLORIZEL AND A DETECTIVE

Prince Florizel walked with Mr. Rolles to the door of a small hotel
where the latter resided. They spoke much together, and the
clergyman was more than once affected to tears by the mingled
severity and tenderness of Florizel's reproaches.

"I have made ruin of my life," he said at last. "Help me; tell me
what I am to do; I have, alas! neither the virtues of a priest nor
the dexterity of a rogue."

"Now that you are humbled," said the Prince, "I command no longer;
the repentant have to do with God and not with princes. But if you
will let me advise you, go to Australia as a colonist, seek menial
labour in the open air, and try to forget that you have ever been a
clergyman, or that you ever set eyes on that accursed stone."

"Accurst indeed!" replied Mr. Rolles. "Where is it now? What
further hurt is it not working for mankind?"

"It will do no more evil," returned the Prince. "It is here in my
pocket. And this," he added kindly, "will show that I place some
faith in your penitence, young as it is."

"Suffer me to touch your hand," pleaded Mr. Rolles.

"No," replied Prince Florizel, "not yet."

The tone in which he uttered these last words was eloquent in the
ears of the young clergyman; and for some minutes after the Prince
had turned away he stood on the threshold following with his eyes
the retreating figure and invoking the blessing of heaven upon a
man so excellent in counsel.

For several hours the Prince walked alone in unfrequented streets.
His mind was full of concern; what to do with the diamond, whether
to return it to its owner, whom he judged unworthy of this rare
possession, or to take some sweeping and courageous measure and put
it out of the reach of all mankind at once and for ever, was a
problem too grave to be decided in a moment. The manner in which
it had come into his hands appeared manifestly providential; and as
he took out the jewel and looked at it under the street lamps, its
size and surprising brilliancy inclined him more and more to think
of it as of an unmixed and dangerous evil for the world.

"God help me!" he thought; "if I look at it much oftener, I shall
begin to grow covetous myself."

At last, though still uncertain in his mind, he turned his steps
towards the small but elegant mansion on the river-side which had
belonged for centuries to his royal family. The arms of Bohemia
are deeply graved over the door and upon the tall chimneys;
passengers have a look into a green court set with the most costly
flowers, and a stork, the only one in Paris, perches on the gable
all day long and keeps a crowd before the house. Grave servants
are seen passing to and fro within; and from time to time the great
gate is thrown open and a carriage rolls below the arch. For many
reasons this residence was especially dear to the heart of Prince
Florizel; he never drew near to it without enjoying that sentiment
of home-coming so rare in the lives of the great; and on the
present evening he beheld its tall roof and mildly illuminated
windows with unfeigned relief and satisfaction.

As he was approaching the postern door by which he always entered
when alone, a man stepped forth from the shadow and presented
himself with an obeisance in the Prince's path.

"I have the honour of addressing Prince Florizel of Bohemia?" said
he.

"Such is my title," replied the Prince. "What do you want with
me?"

"I am," said the man, "a detective, and I have to present your
Highness with this billet from the Prefect of Police."

The Prince took the letter and glanced it through by the light of
the street lamp. It was highly apologetic, but requested him to
follow the bearer to the Prefecture without delay.

"In short," said Florizel, "I am arrested."

"Your Highness," replied the officer, "nothing, I am certain, could
be further from the intention of the Prefect. You will observe
that he has not granted a warrant. It is mere formality, or call
it, if you prefer, an obligation that your Highness lays on the
authorities."

"At the same time," asked the Prince, "if I were to refuse to
follow you?"

"I will not conceal from your Highness that a considerable
discretion has been granted me," replied the detective with a bow.

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