Sax Rohmer - The Golden Scorpion

Dorian pulled open the drawer. She discovered first the cheque-book

and next a private account-book; then from under the latter she drew

out a foolscap envelope sealed with red wax and bearing, in Stuart's

handwriting, the address:

Lost Property Office,

Metropolitan Police,

New Scotland Yard, S. W. I.

She uttered a subdued exclamation; then, as a spark of light gleamed

within the open drawer, she gazed as if stupefied at the little

ornament which she had suddenly perceived lying near the cheque-book.

She picked it up and stared at it aghast. A moment she hesitated;

then, laying down the fragment of gold and also the long envelope upon

the table, she took up the telephone. Keeping her eyes fixed upon the

closed door of the study, she asked for the number East 89512, and

whilst she waited for the connection continued that nervous watching

and listening. Suddenly she began to speak, in a low voice.

"Yes! ... Miska speaks. Listen! One of the new keys--it fits. I have

the envelope. But, also in the same drawer, I find a part of a broken

gold _'agrab_ (scorpion). Yes, it is broken. It must be they find it,

on him." Her manner grew more and more agitated. "Shall I bring it?

The envelope it is very large. I do not know if----"

From somewhere outside the house came a low, wailing cry--a cry which

Stuart, if he had heard it, must have recognized to be identical with

that which he had heard in the night--but which he had forgotten to

record in his written account.

"Ah!" whispered the girl--"there is the signal! It is the doctor who

returns." She listened eagerly, fearfully, to the voice which spoke

over the wires. "Yes--yes!"

Always glancing toward the door, she put down the instrument, took

up the long envelope and paused for a moment, thinking that she had

heard the sound of approaching footsteps. She exhibited signs of

nervous indecision, tried to thrust the envelope into her little bag

and realized that even folded it would not fit so as to escape

observation. She ran across to the grate and dropped the envelope

upon the smouldering fire. As she did so, the nicely balanced poker

fell with a clatter upon the tiled hearth.

She started wildly, ran back to the table, took up the broken ornament

and was about to thrust it into the open drawer, when the study door

was flung open and Stuart came in.

"MADEMOISELLE DORIAN!" cried Stuart joyously, advancing with

outstretched hand. She leaned back against the table watching him--and

suddenly he perceived the open drawer. He stopped. His expression

changed to one of surprise and anger, and the girl's slim fingers

convulsively clutched the table edge as she confronted him. Her

exquisite colour fled and left her pallid, dark-eyed and dismayed.

"So," he said bitterly--"I returned none too soon, Mlle.--_Dorian_"

"Oh! she whispered, and shrank from him as he approached nearer.

"Your object in selecting an obscure practitioner for your medical

adviser becomes painfully evident to me. Diagnosis of your case would

have been much more easy if I had associated your symptoms with the

presence in my table drawer of"--he hesitated--"of something which

you have taken out. Give me whatever you have stolen and compose

yourself to await the arrival of the police."

He was cruel in his disillusionment. Here lay the explanation of his

romance; here was his disguised princess--a common thief! She stared

at him wildly.

"I take nothing!" she cried. "Oh, let me go! Please, please let me go!"

"Pleading is useless. What have you stolen?"

"Nothing--see." She cast the little gold ornament on the table. "I

look at this, but I do not mean to steal it."

She raised her beautiful eyes to his face again, and he found himself

wavering. That she had made his acquaintance in order to steal the

fragment of the golden scorpion was impossible, for he had not

possessed it at the time of her first visit. He was hopelessly

mystified and utterly miserable.

"How did you open the drawer?" he asked sternly.

She took up the bunch of keys which lay upon the table and naively

exhibited that which fitted the lock of the drawer. Her hands were

shaking.

"Where did you obtain this key; and why?"

She watched him intently, her lips trembling and her eyes wells of

sorrow into which he could not gaze unmoved.

"If I tell you--will you let me go?"

"I shall make no promises, for I can believe nothing that you may

tell me. You gained my confidence by a lie--and now, by another lie,

you seem to think that you can induce me to overlook a deliberate

attempt at burglary--common burglary." He clenched his hands.

"Heavens! I could never have believed it of you!"

She flinched as though from a blow and regarded him pitifully as he

stood, head averted.

"Oh, please listen to me," she whispered. "At first I tell you a lie,

yes."

"And now?"

"Now--I tell you the truth."

"That you are a petty thief?"

"Ah! you are cruel--you have no pity! You judge me as you judge--one

of your Englishwomen. Perhaps I cannot help what I do. In the East a

woman is a chattel and has no will of her own."

"A chattel!" cried Stuart scornfully. "Your resemblance to the

'chattels' of the East is a remote one. There is Eastern blood in

your veins, no doubt, but you are educated, you are a linguist, you

know the world. Right and wrong are recognizable to the lowest savage."

"And if they recognize, but are helpless?"

Stuart made a gesture of impatience.

"You are simply seeking to enlist my sympathy," he said bitterly.

"But you have said nothing which inclines me to listen to you any

longer. Apart from the shock of finding you to be--what you are, I

am utterly mystified as to your object. I am a poor man. The entire

contents of my house would fetch only a few hundred pounds if sold

to-morrow. Yet you risk your liberty to rifle my bureau. For the last

time--what have you taken from that drawer?"

She leaned back against the table, toying with the broken piece of

gold and glancing down at it as she did so. Her long lashes cast

shadows below her eyes, and a hint of colour was returning to her

cheeks. Stuart studied her attentively--even delightedly, for all

her shortcomings, and knew in his heart that he could never give her

in charge of the police. More and more the wonder of it all grew upon

him, and now he suddenly found himself thinking of the unexplained

incident of the previous night.

"You do not answer," he said. "I will ask you another question: have

you attempted to open that drawer prior to this evening?"

Mlle. Dorian looked up rapidly, and her cheeks, which had been pale,

now flushed rosily.

"I try twice before," she confessed, "and cannot open it."

"Ah! And--has _someone else_ tried also?"

Instantly her colour fled again, and she stared at him wide-eyed,

fearful.

"Someone else?" she whispered.

"Yes--someone else. A man ... wearing a sort of cowl----"

"Oh?" she cried and threw out her hands in entreaty. "Do not ask me of

_him_! I dare not answer--I dare not!"

"You have answered," said Stuart, in a voice unlike his own; for a

horrified amazement was creeping upon him and supplanting the

contemptuous anger which the discovery of this beautiful girl engaged

in pilfering his poor belongings had at first aroused.

The mystery of her operations was explained--explained by a deeper