So one mystery, at all events, was cleared up, and the diamonds were obviously the key to the whole situation.
Those last days on the Kilmorden seemed to pass very quickly. As we drew nearer and nearer to Cape Town, I was forced to consider carefully my future plans. There were so many people I wanted to keep an eye on. Mr. Chichester, Sir Eustace and his secretary, and—yes, Colonel Race! What was I to do about it? Naturally it was Chichester who had first claim on my attention. Indeed, I was on the point of reluctantly dismissing Sir Eustace and Mr. Pagett from their position of suspicious characters, when a chance conversation awakened fresh doubts in my mind.
I had not forgotten Mr. Pagett’s incomprehensible emotion at the mention of Florence. On the last evening on board we were all sitting on deck and Sir Eustace addressed a perfectly innocent question to his secretary. I forget exactly what it was, something to do with railway delays in Italy, but at once I noticed that Mr. Pagett was displaying the same uneasiness which had caught my attention before. When Sir Eustace claimed Mrs. Blair for a dance, I quickly moved into the chair next to the secretary. I was determined to get to the bottom of the matter.
“I have always longed to go to Italy,” I said. “And especially to Florence. Didn’t you enjoy it very much there?”
“Indeed I did, Miss Beddingfeld. If you will excuse me, there is some correspondence of Sir Eustace’s that—”
I took hold of him firmly by his coat sleeve.
“Oh, you mustn’t run away!” I cried with the skittish accent of an elderly dowager. “I’m sure Sir Eustace wouldn’t like you to leave me alone with no one to talk to. You never seem to want to talk about Florence. Oh, Mr. Pagett, I believe you have a guilty secret!”