Mrs. Pitt was an innocent old party, who added greatly to the hilarity of the company by her incapacity to see the point of any joke. It was Alfred's great stunt to ask her conundrums with perfectly meaningless answers.
"Mrs. Pitt, what is the difference between a cock-eyed rooster and a man with one leg?"
"Well, what is the difference, Mr. Booker?"
"The higher, the fewer."
"Why, of course!"
"Mrs. Pitt, why is a mouse when it spins?"
"I don't quite get that, Mr. Booker."
"Why is a mouse when it spins?"
"Well, why is it, Mr. Booker. I give up."
"Just because."
"Oh, how comical!"
It presently appeared that Mr. Spinney played the bones. Mr. Simpson produced a mouth organ from his breast pocket, as big as a cake of chocolate. So they had music. It was all as cosy and friendly as possible.
"Can it be that I am going to rob this house to-night?" Jessie asked herself, with a feeling of curious unreality.
"Take your hat off, dearie; it's more comfortable," suggested Mrs. Pitt.
But Jessie knew she would have need of that hat later. "It's hardly worth while," she said. "I'll have to be going soon."
Alfred began to get uneasy at the duration of the party. "Well, if we're going to take a look around upstairs...." he said.
There was a general move. Mrs. Pitt said she would remain behind to clean up.
Outside the servants' dining-room there was a sort of central hall with many doors. One of these doors opened to a service stairway which they started to ascend.
"This stair runs all the way to the roof," Mr. Spinney remarked.
They issued out into the central hall of the house at the street level. It was a wide foyer, floored and lined with marble, magnificent in its stark bareness, with a sweeping stairway of marble and wrought iron at the back. At the rear of this floor was the dining-room, a noble apartment forty feet long. At the sight of it Jessie exclaimed in wonder.
"But you should see it when all the plate is displayed!" said Mr. Spinney.
He was then for leading the way up the grand stairway, but Jessie had a particular reason for wishing to see the front. "What's over here?" she asked, striking off.
In front of the great foyer there was a square vestibule, with the front door on one side, and a small room on either hand as you entered. The front door was a massive affair of wrought iron and plate glass. Jessie, as if in idleness of mind, turned the knob, and found that it swung open easily. The door had only the usual spring-lock upon it, which worked automatically. She peeped into each of the small rooms.
"These small rooms are intended for cloak-rooms, when the family is entertaining," Mr. Spinney explained. "At other times they are used by the footmen, and for persons to wait in, who are not exactly friends of the family."
"In the room on your left as you entered, there was a door on the far side. Where does that go to?" asked Jessie. "I thought that was the side of the house."
"That leads to the landing just inside the service entrance," said Mr. Spinney.
Jessie remembered having seen that door from the other side.
"With a house full of rich things like this, I should think you'd be afraid of burglars every night," remarked Jessie.
"No," said Mr. Spinney, "when we retire for the night, the burglar alarm is always turned on."
"What's that?" asked Jessie innocently.
"It's an electrical appliance connected with all the doors and windows. After it is turned on, if anything was opened, it would ring a gong in the house, and also sound an alarm in the office of the protective agency, who would have their men here in a moment or two."
"Do show it to me," begged Jessie.
It appeared that the switch was in the same small room to the left of the front door. Mr. Spinney good-naturedly opened a little cupboard in the wall, and showed her the switch.
"When the handle is up, it's on," he said; "and when it's down it's off."
"Think of that!" said Jessie.
They then ascended the great stairway, padded with a red carpet as soft as grass, to the palatial rooms above. These were the entertaining rooms; a beautiful salon, stretching across the front of the house; a great central hall; library and music room at the rear. It was all very wonderful; and Jessie looked, admired and asked questions without stint. But her real interest lay in what was above. Unfortunately, it appeared that the tour was to end here.
"Well, that's all," said Mr. Spinney.
"What's on the next floor?" asked Jessie.
"That's the private suite of the master and mistress," said Mr. Spinney. "Sitting-room, bedrooms, boudoir, and all. I don't feel as how we ought to walk through their private rooms."
"Just a peep inside the sitting-room door," begged Jessie.
"Oh, well. Just the sitting-room."
They went up another flight. The sitting-room was in the middle of the front of the house. Like every other room in the house, it was full of rare and costly things, but it had an inviting and livable look. It bore the marks of use. Jessie spotted such homely objects as a work-box of Mrs. Sterry's and a row of the master's briar pipes.
Mr. Spinney explained that the master's bedroom was on one side, and the mistress's on the other. Back of the bedrooms were dressing-rooms, wardrobes, bathrooms, etc. At the rear of this floor, Mrs. Sterry's boudoir was on one side, and Mr. Sterry's den on the other.
"I didn't know there was so many different kinds of rooms," remarked Jessie.
In the sitting-room, she had no difficulty in picking out the safe, though it did not advertise its nature, being contained in a handsome walnut cabinet between the two windows. She also chose her hiding-place behind a Spanish screen of decorated leather in the corner.
They started down the service stairway, Mr. Spinney in advance; then Nina Trudeau and her friend; Jessie and Alfred bringing up the rear. At the next landing, Alfred laid a hand on Jessie's arm, and whispered:
"Let them go on."
They waited in the dark until they heard the others pass out on the basement floor; then Alfred softly drew Jessie through a door. They were on the main floor of the house, among the great rooms.
"I want to show you something," said Alfred.
"What will they think?" protested Jessie.
"Oh, they'll just think we stopped to spoon on the stairs."
Without lighting any lights he led Jessie through the music-room, and through a French window on to a little balcony which overlooked a sunken garden in the rear of the house. It was very pretty, but that was not what Alfred had come for. He slipped his arm around Jessie's waist, and his lips sought hers greedily.
Jessie, instantly on the alert, slipped sideways out of his embrace, and faced him. "Hey! cut that out!"
"Aw," said Alfred, reaching for her again.
"Cut it out, I say," said Jessie evading him.
"Aw, you said..."
"I said nothing."
"Well, you gave me to understand..."
"I can't help it if your understanding's defective."
"Aw!..."
Jessie felt a moment's compunction on Alfred's account. There was justice in his protests. He was getting a raw deal in this affair. However, in a game of such magnitude, one could not regard the feelings of so insignificant a pawn.
Alfred began to grow sore. "You shouldn't have come here if you didn't mean nothing by it."
"I wanted to see the house."
"You gone too far now to turn me down. I won't take it from yeh."
He came at her in good earnest then. Jessie retreated through the French window. There was a short, sharp struggle inside, all in silence. Jessie was easily a match for him. Women are called the weaker sex, but I have noticed they can defend themselves very well against men when they have a mind to. Jessie tore herself free, and waited for him. When he rushed at her again, she presented a shoulder, and catching him full on the chest, sent him flying backwards, full length on the floor.
In a flash she was out of the room. The door was open. She pulled it to after her, to delay him, and went down the great stairway as if she were running on a hundred little feet. I have seen her do that. When she got to the bottom Alfred was at the door overhead. She sped across the entrance hall, and got the front door open. Then the heavy, thudding slam of it sounded through the house, an unmistakable sound.
But Jessie was not outside, of course. She dropped to the floor, and crept on all fours to the little room on the left.
Alfred reached the front door a second later. He opened it, but did not run out. Jessie could see the motionless shadow of him. No doubt it had occurred to him that if she was gone, she was gone, and he could not very well chase her bareheaded through the streets. At any rate, he broke into a low, thick cursing, and let the door close.
Jessie retreated softly through the door into the side corridor. She could not be sure which way he would go then. He might turn on lights. Listening at the crack of the door, she heard him come towards it, and flitted as quietly as a ghost down the stairs, and along the corridor to the rear. The door of the servant's dining-room stood open, and Nina and her young man were sitting on the sofa within. The voices of Mr. Spinney and Mrs. Pitt came from the kitchen. As the hall was dark, Jessie had no trouble in getting past the open door unseen. She opened the door leading to the service stairway, and waited on the bottom step listening.
Alfred came along the corridor, and entered the dining-room.
"Where's your girl?" asked Nina indifferently.
"I'm goin' to take her home now," said Alfred. "Came after my hat.... She asked me to tell you good-night," he added as an afterthought.
"That's real kind," said Nina sarcastically. "Tell her the same from me."
Having presumably secured his hat, Alfred returned along the corridor.
Jessie went softly up the service stairway for three flights, and made her way to the sitting-room in front.
It was still something short of eleven o'clock when Jessie stole into the sitting-room, and the Sterrys did not return until half-past one. The time seemed interminable to the waiting Jessie. She left the door open to guard against surprise. She expected Nina to come for the purpose of laying out her mistress's night things, or Alfred to perform a like office for his master. But it must have been done earlier, for neither of them appeared. In the dense silence that filled the house, she heard the servants, one by one, go up the back stairs to bed.
The tedious wait proved to be very valuable to Jessie. She spent the whole of it stretched out on the floor in front of the safe, working the combination from the memorandum that she had. She soon memorised the figures; more than that; she worked at it until she found herself able to shut off her little pocket light, and open the safe merely by the feel of the lock, and by listening to the click of the tumblers as they fell into place.
It was with a little sob of relief that she at last heard the automobile drive up to the door, and the people enter below. She stole to the door of the room and closed it, since it was customarily kept closed, and went behind her screen. She had previously satisfied herself that there was nothing behind the screen; therefore, no reason for anybody to come to that corner. The screen was purely for ornament.
Mr. and Mrs. Sterry entered the room, and closed the door behind them. They were in the middle of a conversation which was unintelligible to Jessie, since she had missed the key word. They were evidently fatigued, and the talk soon lapsed. They moved here and there about the room. Finally Mr. Sterry said:
"Hand me the gew-gaws."
He was evidently kneeling in front of the safe.
His wife presumably handed over the jewels. "Oh, I wish they were safe out of the house," she said nervously. "I shan't be able to sleep a wink for thinking of them."
"Well, my dear, that's the penalty for having such things," he said. "Uneasy lies the head, etc., etc.... I wonder if it's worth it."
"Are you sorry you bought it?" she asked quickly.
"I bought it for you, my dear. Are you satisfied?"
"Oh, yes! I had a veritable triumph to-night. There wasn't a woman present who wouldn't have given her eyes to be me."
"I dare say, I dare say," he said. "... It is beautiful," he went on dreamily—evidently he had the tiara in his hands, "quite beautiful enough to go to hell for—if one wasn't so civilised. These stones are like little living eyes peering at one—or it's as if each one had a soul imprisoned within it."
"Mercy!" she said. "Do put it out of sight, Walbridge. It makes me nervous when we're alone here."
Jessie heard, successively, the steel drawer flung in, the safe door closed, the handle turned that locked it, and the knob of the combination spun around.
Mrs. Sterry then went into her own room, and Mr. Sterry into his. They left the doors open, and talked across the sitting-room; talk of no moment, mostly dealing with the events of the party that night. Finally, Mrs. Sterry said:
"You leave your door open, Walbridge, so you can hear anything, and I'll close mine."
"Why close yours?" he asked.
"Because I don't want to hear anything."
He laughed. "Don't you feel safe with our two brawny defenders downstairs?"
At these words the listening Jessie's heart seemed to miss a beat. Here was something outside of her calculations. Two brawny defenders! Who were they?
"No, I don't feel safe!" complained Mrs. Sterry. "I'm as much afraid of those two as I am of anything. Here they are right inside the house. What's to prevent them stealing upstairs and blackjacking us in our beds!"
"Oh, my dear! my dear!" laughed her husband. "There are some honest men in the world. These fellows are hired to protect us; men don't go back on their responsibilities like that. And suppose they were tempted; they're known men; they know they'd be caught within an hour."
"There's no provision for them to sleep anywhere," said Mrs. Sterry.
"They're not supposed to sleep. They're going to sit up until they're relieved at eight o'clock. They asked me for a pack of cards!"