‘We could, of course, but it would surely be a trifle unfair to the owner?’
‘I don’t care about that,’ confessed Pen. ‘It would be dreadful to be arrested for thieving, and I know we shall be!’
‘Oh, I trust not!’ Sir Richard said. He straightened the necklace, where it lay on the table, and looked down at it with a slight frown creasing his brow. ‘Yes,’ he said meditatively. ‘I have seen you before. Now,wherehave I seen you before?’
‘Do please put it away!’ begged Pen. ‘Only think if a servant were to come into the room!’
He picked it up. ‘My lamentable memory! Alas, my lamentable memory! Where, oh,wherehave I seen you?’
‘Dear sir, if Jimmy Yarde finds us, he will very likely cut our throats to get the necklace back!’
‘On the contrary, I have his word for it that he is opposed to all forms of violence.’
‘But when he does not discover it in my pocket, where he placed it – and now I come to think of it, he actually had my coat in his hands – he must guess that we have discovered it!’
‘Very likely he will, but I cannot see what profit there would be in his cutting our throats.’ Sir Richard restored the necklace to its leather purse, and dropped it into his pocket. ‘We have now nothing to do but to await the arrival of Jimmy Yarde. Perhaps – who knows? – we may induce him to divulge the ownership of the necklace. Meanwhile, this parlour is very stuffy, and the night remarkably fine. Do you care to stroll out with me to admire the stars, brat?’
‘I suppose,’ said Pen defiantly, ‘that you think I am very poor-spirited!’
‘Very,’ agreed Sir Richard, his eyes glinting under their heavy lids.
‘I am not afraid of anything,’ Pen announced. ‘Merely, I amshocked!’
‘A waste of time, believe me. Are you coming?’
‘Yes, but it seems to me as though you have put a live coal in your pocket! What if some dishonest person were to steal it from you?’
‘Then we shall be freed from all responsibility. Come along!’
She followed him out into the warm night. He appeared to have banished all thought of the necklace from his mind. He pointed various constellations out to her, and, drawing her hand through his arm, strolled with her down the street, past the last straggling cottages, into a lane redolent of meadowsweet.
‘I suppose I was poor-spirited,’ Pen confided presently. ‘Shall you feel obliged to denounce poor Jimmy Yarde to the Runner?’
‘I hope,’ said Sir Richard dryly, ‘that Mr Piers Luttrell is a gentleman of resolute character.’
‘Why?’
‘That he may be able to curb your somewhat reckless friendliness.’
‘Well, I haven’t seen him for five years, but it was always I who thought of things to do.’
‘That is what I feared. Where does he live?’
‘Oh, about two miles farther down this road!Myhome is on the other side of the village. Should you like to see it?’
‘Immensely, but not at the moment. We will now retrace our steps, for it is time that you were in bed.’
‘I shan’t sleep a wink.’
‘I trust that you are mistaken, my good child – in fact, I am reasonably certain that you are.’
‘And to add to everything,’ said Pen, unheeding, ‘Piers has got a horrid man staying with him! I don’t know what is to be done.’
‘In the morning,’ said Sir Richard soothingly, ‘we will attend to all these difficulties.’
‘In the morning, very likely, Aunt Almeria will have discovered me.’
On this gloomy reflection, they retraced their steps to the inn. Its shuttered windows cast golden gleams out into the quiet street, several of them standing open to let in the cool night air. Just as they were about to pass one of them on their way to the inn door, a voice spoke inside the room, and to her astonishment, Sir Richard suddenly gripped Pen’s arm, and brought her to a dead halt. She started to enquire the reason for this sudden stop, but his hand across her mouth choked back the words.
