"All right. I'm Mason. I knew the game was up the moment I saw you.
Any one but you, Mr. Crawford, would pay for this interruption, pistol
or no pistol. An hour. So be it. You might tell that fool
down-stairs and give him the papers you find in my grip. Miss
Killigrew's sapphires, I regret to say, are no more. The mistake I
made in London was in returning the Nana Sahib's ruby."
"There is always one mistake," replied Crawford sternly. He felt sad,
too.
"Off with you, Tibbets! We can make the train for New York if we
hustle."
The man-servant's brilliant eyes flashed evilly.
"Will you make it an hour and a half, sir?" asked Mason, as his valet
slid over the window-sill.
It sounded strange to Forbes. Mason had unconsciously fallen into the
old tone and mode of address, and he himself recognized him now.
"Till nine-thirty, then. At that time I shall notify Haggerty."
"The boat?"
"Oh, no. I'm giving you that chance without conditions. It's up to
Haggerty to find you. There's one question I should like to ask you.
Were you in this sort of business while you were serving me?"
Mason laughed. The real man shone in his eyes and smile. "I was. It
was very exciting. It was very amusing, too. I valeted you during the
day-time and went about my own peculiar business at night. I entered
your service to rob you and remained to serve you; ten years. I want
you always to remember this: to you I was loyal, that I stood between
you and death because you were the only being I was fond of. You are
the one bit of sentiment that ever entered my life. Well, I must be
off. But I've had a jolly time of it, masquerading as a titled
gentleman. What a comedy! How the fools kotowed and simpered while I
looked over their jewels and speculated upon how much I could get for
them! But I had my code. I never pilfered in the houses of my hosts.
I set a fine trap for that simple young man down-stairs, and he fell
into it, head-first. Trust an Englishman of his sort to see nothing
beyond his nose. I'm off. Good-by, Mr. Crawford. I'm grateful." The
man stepped out of the window and vanished into the night.
Crawford glanced at his watch; it was eight-ten.
"Do you hope he'll get away?" asked Forbes breathlessly.
"I don't know what I hope, Mort. I'm rather dazed with the
unexpectedness of all this. Let's see what you took from their
pockets."