L. T. Meade

“ I was relieved that Don Santos was no longer by my side. If the man was not mad he was next door to it: his words during my visit had been more than strange, and there was a light in his eyes which I had seen before, but never in those of a sane person. Should I leave the veranda, go downstairs, and make my escape? Was I really in danger? I could have easily gone away, but Lady Helen had trusted me with her commission, and the casket was in the Spaniard's possession. I must not leave the house without the £5,000 which was to be Lady Helen's in exchange for the Catalini Casket. ”

“ I naturally did not believe in dreams, but the face of the woman opposite to me, in its intense and tragic earnestness, forbade a smile.
“I can guess something of your thought, Dr. Cato,” she continued, “but there are dreams which have elements of truth in them. Let me tell you mine. On the night when my boy was murdered, I dreamt that he visited Don Santos at Roe House, that he gave the Spaniard the pearl necklace, and sat with him for a time on the wide veranda of his house.” ”

“ Well, I am in a fair way to have that day-dream realized. I am just about to receive a commission—5 per cent. on £7,000. That means £350, all earned in one day. Think of that for a novice!”
“But how have you done it?” I asked.
“Ah! that I cannot explain—I am bound to secrecy, but what I tell you is true. I will call again to-morrow, and if you like, will show you the cheque. Yes, I am a made man, for other commissions will doubtless follow from the same source. But I cannot stay another instant. Tell Chetwynd, and wish me luck, Dr. Cato.” ”

“ I asked.
“Señor Don Santos was far too friendly with Ingram when they were both here. I distrust the man thoroughly. There is no doubt that on some points he is insane—he is also unscrupulous, and to attain his ends would stop at nothing.”
“Oh! you are over-suspicious,” was my answer. “There is no use in labelling any man scoundrel until he has proved himself one, and what the Spaniard has to do with Ingram beats my comprehension.”
“Why, Paul, are you blind? Who else would give Ingram a commission of that magnitude? Doubtless, when he left here, he was going to Wimbledon. ”

“ Ingram never reached Roe House, and beyond doubt the murderer absconded with the necklace.”
“So that is Don Santos's story,” replied Mrs. Ingram, very slowly. “Will you listen to me? I have every reason to believe—nay more, I am certain of the fact—that my son did visit Señor Don Santos on the evening of the day on which he was murdered, and did hand him over the necklace. I have more than one reason for the very firm opinion which I have formed. In the first place, Don Santos is not a man of honour.” ”

“ Don Santos, however, had not the same power of dissimulating his misery as Lady Helen had—Chetwynd believed him to be suffering from incipient insanity, and there were times when his moody eye and fierce and yet abstracted manner seemed abundantly to carry out this suggestion.
“I do not like the man,” said Chetwynd; “he is either insane or he is a devil incarnate. I wish Lady Helen were not so friendly with him.” ”

“ How did he get there?”
“That,” replied Chetwynd, “is what you and I have got to discover, and to-morrow night, too. It is a risk—are you prepared to run it?”
“I certainly am. Chetwynd, I am sorry for you; you are bitten by a craze—a craze to discover what never can be discovered on earth.”
“We will soon know,” was his ambiguous answer.
Lady Helen returned with the casket and put it into my hands, and punctually at eight o'clock on the following evening I arrived at Roe House, carrying the treasure with me. The moment I rang the bell the door was opened by Don Santos himself. ”

“ Don Santos rang his bell and gave directions to a servant who appeared. Not long afterwards he and I found ourselves seated at a little oval table in the big dining-room. As we ate my host talked well and brilliantly. Certainly he was an interesting man, and his knowledge of art treasures was extensive.
The meal lasted for over an hour, and during that time I had almost forgotten Mrs. Ingram, her curious dream, and her nameless suspicions. The dream, however, and the suspicions were revived when Don Santos said, in a hearty voice:—
“The night is fine—let us go up and smoke on the veranda.” ”

“ Don Santos lived in a large mansion called Roe House in the neighbourhood of Wimbledon Common, and was said to be not only very rich, but was also known to possess one of the finest private collections of art treasures in England. Don Santos and Lady Helen soon became great friends—they had many tastes in common, and used to spend hours talking about those gems of art, those priceless possessions, which, handed down from father to son, are the heirlooms of many families. ”

“ If you had ever studied the subject of art treasures, Dr. Cato, you must have heard of this special casket. It is formed out of one enormous onyx, on which are two priceless cameos, and around the lid rubies, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, all of enormous value, are richly embedded. ”

“ I am also going back to Yorkshire this afternoon, but will return early to-morrow with the casket. I want you to take the Catalini Casket to Don Santos to-morrow night and to bring me back the money. He will pay me in gold, not by cheque—I have asked him to do this in order to insure my husband never knowing of the transaction.”
“But why should I be your messenger?”
“It is by the señor's special request. He says that he has made a rule never to admit a woman into Roe House. Oh, you will not refuse me? If you will help me in this matter I will bless you to the longest day of my life.” ”

“ The Spaniard spoke softly and with much sadness in his tone.
“There is one thing, Don Santos,” I said, suddenly; “you will forgive me, but perhaps you do not realize that Mrs. Ingram is a poor woman. Her son borrowed £7,000 to buy that necklace for you. Is it fair that she should have to pay it back?” ”

“ He has got into terrible trouble—he is reckless, defiant of the ordinary rules of society. He has always been something of a spoilt darling. When my mother died she left him in my care. He has got into debt. My husband is jealous of my great love for him, and will not help him with so much as a pound. Something must be done immediately, so I am determined to come to the rescue. If I can get £5,000 from Don Santos, my brother's most pressing debts will be paid, and he will be saved. ”

“ One and all denied that the murder was the work of a human being, though they frankly admitted that they could offer no suggestion as an alternative argument. I personally could give no information except a report of Ingram's last words to me on the previous day. Suddenly it flashed through my mind that I would call upon Señor Don Santos and tell him the whole story. He had been interested in Ingram. If Chetwynd's surmise was right, he had something to do with the large commission which the poor fellow was to earn. Roe House was situated on the edge of the Common. ”

“ The señor is partly mad, but more wicked. He had a craze for the collection of art treasures, and wanted to secure them without paying his victims the necessary money. Thus he never intended to pay Lady Helen for the Catalini Casket. The old story which was repeated once in the case of Ingram would have again been the talk about you. Your lifeless body would have been found in the morning on Wimbledon Common, and the police would suppose that you had been robbed and murdered. ”

“ Chetwynd would doubtless have shared her suspicions, but I could scarcely give credence to her story. Because a woman dreamt a ghastly dream, was a person, to all appearance innocent, to be accused of crime? Nevertheless, Don Santos must be a scoundrel not to have made some effort to replace the £7,000 which Ingram had borrowed to purchase the necklace. ”

“ The house itself was large and built in the modern style. It was surrounded by private grounds, and there were thick trees growing up almost to the front door.
I rang the bell. It was answered immediately by a demure-looking, elderly servant in livery. In reply to my query he told me that his master was within, and invited me to enter. I was shown into a lofty dining-room sumptuously furnished. ”

“ My son, reckless with joy at the thought of securing so large a sum, had borrowed the £7,000 from a dealer in order to go to Christie's to pay for the necklace. On my son's murder, this dealer, Robertson by name, applied to Don Santos to restore the money, declaring that the order was practically his, and that he ought to make good the loss. Don Santos absolutely declined to pay one penny.”
“And how has the debt been met?” I asked.
“By me, Dr. Cato. All I possess in the world of ready capital has been raised to clear my son's honour. I have paid Mr. ”