Mr. Rushcroft magnanimously offered to coach "Miss Jones" in the part he was going to write in for her just as soon as he could get around to it.
"No use writing a part for her, Mr. Barnes, until I get through beating the parts we already have into the heads of these poor fools up here. I've got trouble enough on my hands."
And so the time crept by, up to the night of the performance. Miss Cameron remained in ignorance of the close proximity of the jewels, and the police of Crowndale remained in even denser ignorance as to the whereabouts of the man who robbed Mr. Hasselwein of all his spare cash and an excellent gold watch.
Hasselwein's story was brief but dramatic. He was recovering rapidly from his experience and the local newspaper, on Tuesday, announced that he would be strong enough to accompany his wife when she left the "city" toward the end of the week. (Considerable space was employed by the reporter in "writing up" the wonderful devotion of Mrs. Hasselwein, who, despite the fact that she was quite an invalid, conducted herself with rare fortitude, seldom leaving her husband's room in the hospital.) According to the injured man, his assailant was a huge, powerful individual, wearing a mask and armed to the teeth. He came in through an open window and attacked him while he was asleep in bed. Notwithstanding the stunning blow he received while prostrate, Mr. Hasselwein struggled to his feet and engaged the miscreant--(while the word was used at least twenty times in the newspaper account, I promise to use it but once)--in a desperate conflict. Loss of blood weakened him and he soon fell exhausted upon the bed. To make the story even shorter than Prince Ugo made it, not a word was said about the jewels, and that, after all, is the only feature of the case in which we are interested.
Barnes smiled grimly over Ugo's failure to mention the jewels, and the misleading description of the thief. He was thankful, however, and relieved to learn that the one man who might recognise Miss Cameron was not likely to leave the hospital short of a week's time.
No time was lost by the Countess in getting word to her compatriots in New York. Barnes posted a dozen letters for her; each contained the tidings of her safety and the assurance that she would soon follow in person.
Those three days and nights were full of joy and enchantment for Barnes. True, he did not sleep very well,--indeed, scarcely at all,-- but it certainly was not a hardship to lie awake and think of her throughout the whole of each blessed night. He recalled and secretly dilated upon every sign of decreasing reserve on her part. He shamed himself more than once for deploring the fact that her ankle was mending with uncommon rapidity, and that in a few days she would be quite able to walk without support. And he actually debased himself by wishing that the Rushcroft company might find it imperative to go on rehearsing for weeks in that dim, enchanted temple.