CHAPTER XXII.THE ODD EAR-RING.
Jane Kelly had proceeded but a few paces from the outer door, when Madame reached the pavement. Very few persons were in the street at that time of the evening; for, though not very late, the building was deep in the commercial heart of the city, and few persons ever spent the night there.
“Oh, there he is.”
As the old woman uttered these words, she darted across the street and seized a policeman by the arm.
“Burglary—burglary! I have been robbed. The thief has been trying at my door again; I have tracked her now, There the woman goes; seize her! seize her! she has robbed me of a diamond ear-ring; I swear it, I am ready to testify; here is the mate; seize her, or she will be off.”
As she spoke, the old woman drew the ear-ring from her bosom and held it up in the light of a street-lamp. The man gave one glance at the sparkling stones, and darted after Jane Kelly, who was gliding off like a shadow in the distance.
Madame put up her jewel, and followed the policeman, chuckling softly to herself.
“Is this the person?” said the policeman, leading Jane Kelly back, with a strong grasp on her arm. “Have I caught the right bird?”
“That is the woman,” replied the old De Marke, peering into Jane’s face, “I should know her among a thousand. I caught her in my room, not ten minutes ago, robbing my money-box; picked the door-lock when I was out buying groceries; had this very ear-ring in her hand; you’ll find the box open on the floor, just as she left it. I trod softly, light as a feather, darted in upon her, snatched this from her hand—she ran—I after her, and here she is!”
Jane Kelly stood before her accuser as she uttered these charges, dumb with astonishment, and pale with dismay. She looked from the policeman to the old woman and back again with a wild stare.
“What is the witch at now?” she said, at last, in a frightened voice, wincing under the grasp fixed on her arm. “Let me go, I haven’t done nothing; I’m a hired nurse at Bellevue Hospital—a paid nurse, do you understand?”
“Is she?” inquired the man, turning to Madame de Marke.
“Don’t know anything about her, sir; saw her hanging about my building about ten days ago, first and last time I ever saw her till now. That night I walked in the streetsfrom twelve o’clock at night till three in the morning, the priest made me do it as a penance; when I got home, the mate to this was gone from my money-box; to-night she came after another haul!”
Jane Kelly turned upon her fierce and pale. “Woman, you lie!” broke from lips that trembled so with fear and passion that the words came almost in a whisper.
“Of course I do; no one ever told the truth about a thief; of course it’s all a story, perhaps the magistrate’ll think so.”
“You do not mean to have me really taken up?”
“Of course not; you’ve committed burglary on my premises, robbed me of diamonds worth five hundred dollars, and tried to do it again; but of course I a’n’t going to take you up, dear. Perhaps I’m tender-hearted, perhaps I love you too much, perhaps you’ll be marched off to the police office without another minute’s time for abusing me! Mr. Policeman, just move on, I am ready. It isn’t too late yet, and I want to get home again!”
“I won’t go—I charge that woman with murder, perjury, false imprisonment. She’s an imp, a wretch, a wild beast, I tell you; takeherup, I charge her with something worse than stealing.”
Jane struggled fiercely as she hurled these words back upon her accuser, and almost wrenched her arm from the policeman.
“Hush, be quiet, I say!” commanded the man, sternly, “I’ll have no more of this; come along, marm, we’ve held court long enough in the street. If we wait in this way, the magistrate will be gone.”
“Oh, I’m ready, I’m in a hurry to go,” said Madame, with her glittering eyes turned on Kelly; “it isn’t me that delays you; walk on, I’ll follow with all the pleasure in the world; perhaps she’s got the mate to this about her!”
“No such thing,” exclaimed Jane, with another burst ofpassion, “you know well enough that I told you it was in my trunk.”
“Oh!” ejaculated the officer, with a wink at the old woman, who gave back a significant nod, and cast another jeering glance at her victim.
“Did you tell me that? thank you, dear, it’s pleasant to find a person so frank. You hear, sir, she confesses. Kind, isn’t it?”
Jane was about to speak, and probably in her wrath might have committed herself still further, but the policeman dragged her forward. She made a little resistance at first, but at last moved on more patiently, though still burning with indignation, which was likely to break forth to her disadvantage the moment she was allowed to speak again.
Madame De Marke seemed to be aware of this, for though she appeared to follow the officer and his charge, every few minutes she would glide up to the side of her victim, and whisper some taunt or jeer that stung the woman’s wrath into fresh vigor, and in this state she was placed before the magistrate.
The moment she entered the police-office, Madame De Marke changed her whole manner; the glitter of her eyes was subdued, her demeanor became quiet, and notwithstanding her mean garments and general untidiness, there was something about her which bespoke a knowledge of good society and its usages. Besides, her face bore evidence of a keen intellect, the more remarkable from the squalid poverty of her appearance.
She advanced before the judge, and made her charge in a clear, truthful manner, that left no room for doubt, though the magistrate seemed a good deal astonished by the value of the property stolen; and when Madame, with her usual boast, spoke of rolling in gold, an incredulous smile stole across his lips.
Madame De Marke saw the smile, and a little of her natural shrewishness broke forth.
“You don’t believe me; you think, perhaps, I stole the things first myself,” she said, sharply.
“No, I do not trouble myself to think of anything that has not taken the form of evidence,” said the judge, smiling with an expression that Madame liked still less than the first; “to-morrow we will look into the case, if you appear against the woman.”
“But you will lock her up—you will not allow her to go home?” cried the old woman, eagerly; “she will hide my diamonds away, and I shall never see them again!”
The magistrate waved his hand, as if to silence further speech, and writing on a slip of paper, handed it to the officer.
“Come,” said the officer, touching Jane.
The woman turned sharply upon him.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Into another wing of the Tombs: don’t make a disturbance now, but come peaceably.”
“Not unless this old Jezebel goes with me,” cried the woman, furiously. “I tell you, she is ten thousand times worse than a thief; she wanted me to commit murder—to let one of the sweetest creatures that ever lived starve on her sick-bed; she tried to bribe me with that very ear-ring. I tell you, gentlemen, she is more of a murderer than I am a thief ten times over!”
She was interrupted by a laugh, low and quiet, but which shook Madame’s meagre form from head to foot.
“Pleasant charges, very,” she observed, addressing the magistrate; “perhaps I stole my own jewels.”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” murmured the judge, scarcely above his breath, but Madame heard it.
“Yes,” she added, “and perhaps I engraved my own name on the back.”
She held out the ear-ring, and the judge saw G. De Marke engraved on the antique setting. He had heard the name,and now gazed with great curiosity on its owner, for with all her apparent poverty he knew her to be one of the wealthiest women in New York. He handed back the ear-ring with a bow, and waving his hand, ordered the prisoner to be removed.