Chapter IV: “he Will Be Just in Time!”

Miss Leverton and Mr. Winch, each carrying a despatch box, the contents of which were as yet unknown to either, passed out of the coolness of the marble-paved hall of Abbotsbury House into the warmth of Norfolk Street, and turned upward to the bustling Strand. And Mr. Winch, remembering all the circumstances of this unusual morning, halted.

“I think, my dear,” he said, glancing reflectively at his burden, and then at Frances, and then along the street, “I think we had better take a motor-cab. It is true that our burdens are not very heavy, but their contents may be very valuable. I have little doubt they are--and we ought not to run the risk of having them snatched from us, and this is a busy hour of the day; moreover, I am sure you are tired. And therefore--yes, driver, we will hire you. 250A, New Square.”

Frances was glad to set down her burden on Mr. Winch’s desk in a quiet and peaceful old room in an equally peaceful and quiet house in Lincoln’s Inn. The presence of Mr. Winch himself, a grey-whiskered, fatherly man of leisurely movements, was restful after the loud and bustling personality of John Carsdale, and the atmosphere of his offices, where all seemed to go smoothly and quietly, was vastly preferable to that of the mahoganied and enamelled suite in Norfolk Street, where the click of the typewriter, and the ring of the telephone bell was ever insistent. And Mr. Winch seemed to recognize that the girl felt this, and he drew up the easiest chair in the room to the side of his desk for her, and motioned her to be at rest in it.

“Now, my dear,” he said, taking his own chair and putting on his spectacles, “let me see the memorandum of instructions which your father gave you last night about this matter. You say you wrote his instructions down just as he gave them?”

“Word for word,” replied Frances, producing a folded paper. “And I afterwards read over to him what I had written.”

“Very well, very well,” said Mr. Winch. “Now, let me read it all over again more carefully--we only glanced through it before. Well, now----”

He spread out the sheet of foolscap which the girl handed him, and holding it at the distance of an inch or two before his spectacled nose, read its contents aloud, slowly and ruminatively.

“_May 18, 1908._

“MEMORANDUM OF INSTRUCTIONS FROM BARCLAY LEVERTON TO FRANCES LEVERTON:
IN CASE OF B. L.’S SUDDEN DEATH.

“_First._ Within an hour of my death (or as quickly as may be
possible after that occurs) you are to go to Mr. Septimus Winch, in
New Square, and to ask him to accompany you to my office in Norfolk
Street, and to take with him the key of my private safe, which I
recently handed to him.

“_Second._ You are to open the safe, and to take from the right-hand
drawer the packet of securities which you will find there, and which
is done up in brown paper, and sealed in red wax. These you will hand
to Mr. Winch.

“_Third._ From the left-hand drawer you will take the small package
which is done up in cartridge paper and sealed in black wax, and the
large envelope which lies beneath it, similarly sealed. These you
will carry away yourself, taking care not to release your hold upon
them.

“_Fourth._ You and Mr. Winch will return to his office at once with
these things, and Mr. Winch will immediately deposit the packet of
securities sealed in red wax in his safe, to be properly examined at
some other time.

“_Fifth._ You and Mr. Winch will then open the envelope sealed in
black, and will read its contents, which are two papers marked on the
outsides A and B respectively.

“_Sixth._ You will then open the sealed packet, and examine the
object referred to in these papers.

“_Seventh._ Mr. Winch will then seal up both packet and envelope
again, and will at once, and in your presence, deposit both with his
bankers until the date mentioned in the papers A and B.”

“Um!” said Mr. Winch, laying down the sheet of foolscap on his desk. “There appears to be a great deal of mystery in these instructions, my dear. You have no idea what it is that is referred to here and the object in the sealed packet?”

“None except that it is something of considerable value or great importance,” replied Frances.

“Evidently--evidently!” assented Mr. Winch. “Now, I wonder why my late client never mentioned this matter to me?”

“He never even mentioned it to me,” said Frances. “I think, perhaps, that he might have said more last night, but he became very weak--too weak to talk--after he had dictated that memorandum.”

“Aye, just so, just so! Well, now,” continued Mr. Winch, rising and possessing himself of the bundle of papers sealed with red wax. “We will discharge the first of our duties by placing these securities in my safe. See, my dear, we will deposit them here, in this drawer, to be examined at our leisure. And now--now that is done, we will see what is in this envelope.”

Frances Leverton watched the old lawyer almost apathetically as he slowly took up the heavily-sealed envelope, turned it over two or three times as if it had been a curiosity, and methodically inserted the point of an old-fashioned ivory paper-cutter beneath the flap. She had not expected her father to recover from his illness, and his death had not come as a surprise to her, but she was alive to the fact that she was now quite alone in the world, so far as kith or kin were concerned, and although she had been busily engaged all the morning, she was dully conscious that a great event in her life had happened, and that within the next few days she would have to think seriously as to her future. And believing the task in which she and Mr. Winch were engaged to be one which only affected her late father’s business affairs, she had no great interest in it, beyond a desire to carry out his wishes--the mystery of the memorandum did not appeal to her as much as it did to the old gentleman, who was just then drawing out of the stout envelope two sheets of equally stout paper.

“Let us be in order,” observed Mr. Winch. “We will take A first. Now, my dear, perhaps we can read this together.”

But in spite of this suggestion, Mr. Winch read the document aloud, dwelling impressively upon every word.

“ABBOTSBURY HOUSE, NORFOLK STREET, STRAND,
“London, W.C.
“_June 21, 1905._

“BARCLAY LEVERTON, ESQ.

“DEAR SIR,--

“I acknowledge hereby the receipt from you of the sum of five
thousand pounds sterling, which you have lent me for the purposes
of my proposed exploration of Central South America, upon which I am
just starting.

“As security for this loan I have deposited with you a diamond
necklace which is my own whole and sole property, and which has
been in possession of my family for the last hundred years, and is
believed to have once been the property of the Empress Maria Louisa.

“I hereby agree that if I do not repay to you the sum of five
thousand pounds, with interest at the rate of five per cent. per
annum, on or before June 21, 1908, the diamond necklace above
mentioned is to become your property, to be disposed of at your
discretion.
“Yours faithfully,
“RALPH SEYMOUR BURGOYNE.”

Mr. Winch took off his spectacles, and turned an astonished face on his companion, who on her part was now awakened to a keen interest.

“Burgoyne!” exclaimed Mr. Winch. “Why, that is surely the traveller, the great explorer?”

“Who is said to be lost,” remarked Frances, eagerly. “Don’t you know--nothing’s been heard of him for over a year.”

“To be sure--to be sure, my dear!” said Mr. Winch. “Dear me!--this is a very remarkable document. I had no idea that your father had been engaged in any transaction of this kind. However,” he continued, with a side-glance at the packet which Frances had brought from Norfolk Street, “we now know, my dear, what is in that small parcel--a diamond necklace. We had better examine it at once, and ascertain that it is safe.”

“But we have not yet read paper ‘B,’” said Frances. “Hadn’t we better follow the instructions of the memorandum, Mr. Winch?”

“True, true, so we had,” replied the old lawyer, picking up the second of the papers. “Now, what have we here?--ah, some notes in your father’s handwriting. Let me see--um--ah!--perhaps you will read, this my dear!--your father’s calligraphy always was a little puzzling.”

“Well, this, then, is dated May 14, 1907,” said Frances. “Just about a year ago. This is what he says:--

“MEMORANDUM AS TO THE TRANSACTION BETWEEN CAPTAIN BURGOYNE AND
MYSELF, AND REFERRED TO IN THE PAPER MARKED ‘A.’

“A rumour having reached England that Captain Burgoyne and his party
have been lost in the wilds of Central South America, and that there
is little hope of their returning home, I think it well to write down
what my wishes are with respect to the diamond necklace which he left
with me as security for the £5,000 which I lent him for the purposes
of his expedition.

“If the £5,000 so advanced, and the interest upon it at five per
cent. per annum, is not paid (or arranged for) on or before June 21,
1908, I (or my executors in case of my death between now and then)
will be quite justified in selling the necklace at our discretion.
That is a point upon which Captain Burgoyne and I were quite at one
when the money was advanced. Although the necklace has been in his
family for a long time, he has no sentimental feeling about it, and
he has more than once expressed to me his firm determination never
to marry, so that there is small expectation (if, as I hope, he is
alive) of his having son or daughter to leave it to.

“If, however, I am living on June 21, 1908 (which is doubtful, as
I suffer from a serious affection of the heart), and if Captain
Burgoyne has not then redeemed the necklace, I shall not dispose of
it, but shall hold it at his disposal for at least one year longer.
And I wish my daughter Frances, to whom I shall leave all I have, to
do what I should do, and my executors to respect my desires in the
matter.
“BARCLAY LEVERTON.”

The girl folded the formal-looking paper into its original crease, and laid it softly down by its fellow document. She turned to the old solicitor with a glint of tears in her eyes.

“You will do what my father wished, Mr. Winch?” she said. “I know you’re one of the executors.”

“Oh, of course, of course, my dear!” exclaimed Mr. Winch. “Yes, certainly we shall respect his wishes. Really, this is quite romantic! But let us look at the necklace. Once the property of the Empress Maria Louisa, who was, I think, the second wife of Napoleon Buonaparte. Most interesting!--the necklace must be very beautiful.”

But when between them, they had undone the various wrappings in which the necklace was packed, and had at last brought it to light, Mr. Winch felt himself disappointed. The old gold settings were dull and tarnished: the stones, he said, looked like pieces of glass.

“But look at their size and their fire!” said Frances. “Oh, Mr. Winch, this is worth much more than five thousand pounds.”

“Very probably, my dear, very probably,” assented Mr. Winch. “And therefore all the more reason why you and I should promptly pack it, seal it, and carry it to my bankers, together with those documents. Let us go at once.”

Half an hour later, as they came out of Mr. Winch’s bank in Chancery Lane, Frances suddenly caught the old man’s arm, and pointed to a newspaper contents bill which a lad was holding in front of him as he cried his wares.

“Look, look!” she exclaimed. “Do you see it? ‘News of the Burgoyne Expedition--All Safe’!”

She almost snatched a paper from the boy, while Mr. Winch felt with both hands for a copper. Suddenly she thrust the paper before his eyes.

“There!” she said. “Oh, you can’t see without your glasses. Listen, then--‘The Burgoyne Expedition, seven all told, has arrived at Lima, and will leave at once for England, and may be expected at Southampton, about June 20.’ There, Mr. Winch!”

Mr. Winch nodded his head several times before he looked at Frances, and gravely observed: “He will be just in time!”