"You are very fond of her!" the Princess exclaimed. "Very, your Highness. She is my only child. My poor wife died when she was twelve, and ever since that she has been with us, living upon her wits--and living well too. To confess all this to you I am ashamed; yet now you know who and what I am, and you are our friend, it is only right that you should be made aware of everything," the old fellow said frankly.

"Quite right. I admire you for telling me the truth. In a few days I shall cross to London, and shall be extremely glad of your daughter's services if you will kindly write to her."

"When do you think of leaving?"

"Well, probably the day after to-morrow, by the first service _via_ Calais."

"Then Leucha shall meet that train on arrival at Charing Cross. She will be dressed as a maid, in black, with a black straw sailor hat and a white lace cravat. She will at once enter your service. The question of salary will not be discussed. You have a.s.sisted us, and it is our duty to help you in return, especially at this most perilous moment, when you are believed to have eloped with a lover."

"I'm sure you are very, very kind, Mr. Redmayne," she declared. "Truth to tell, it is so very difficult for me to know in whom to trust; I have been betrayed so often. But I have every confidence in both you and your daughter; therefore I most gladly accept your offer, for, as you say, I am sadly in need of some one to look after the child--some one, indeed, in whom I can trust." An exalted charm seemed to invest her always.

"Well, your Highness," exclaimed the pleasant-faced old fellow, "you have been kind and tolerant to us unfortunates, and I hope to prove to you that even a thief can show his grat.i.tude."

"You have already done so, Mr. Redmayne; and believe me, I am very much touched by all that you have done--your actions are those of an honest man, not those of an outlaw."

"Don't let us discuss the past, your Highness," he said, somewhat confused by her kindly words; "let's think of the future--your own future, I mean. You can trust Leucha implicitly, and as the police, fortunately, have no suspicion of her, she will be perfectly free to serve you. Hitherto she has always obtained employment with an ulterior motive, but this fact, I hope, will not prejudice her in your eyes. I can only a.s.sure you that for her father's sake she will do anything, and that for his sake she will serve you both loyally and well." He halted beneath a street lamp, and tearing a leaf from a small notebook, wrote an address in Granville Gardens, Shepherd's Bush, which he gave to her, saying: "This is in case you miss her at Charing Cross. Send her a letter, and she will at once come to you."

Again she thanked him, and they walked to the corner of the Boulevard Saint Germain, where they halted to part.

"Remember, Princess, command me in any way," said the old man, raising his hat politely. "I am always at your service. I have not concealed anything from you. Take me as I am, your servant."

"Thank you, Mr. Redmayne. I a.s.sure you I deeply appreciate and am much touched by your kindness to a defenceless woman. _Au revoir_." And giving him her hand again, she mounted into a fiacre and drove straight back to her hotel.

Her friendship with this gang of adventurers was surely giving a curious turn to the current of strange events. She, a woman of imperial birth, had at last found friends, and among the cla.s.s where one would hesitate to look for them--the outcasts of society! The more she reflected upon the situation, the more utterly bewildering it was to her. She was unused as a child to the ways of the world. Her life had always been spent within the narrow confines of the glittering Courts of Europe, and she had only known of "the people" vaguely. Every hour she now lived more deeply impressed her that "the people" possessed a great and loving heart for the ill-judged and the oppressed.

At the hotel she counted the notes Roddy had given her, and found the sum that he had named. The calm, smiling old fellow was actually an honest thief!

The following day she occupied herself in making some purchases, and in the evening a police agent called in order to inform her that up to the present nothing had been ascertained regarding her stolen jewels. They had knowledge of a gang of expert English jewel thieves being in Paris, and were endeavouring to discover them.

The Princess heard what the man said, but, keeping her own counsel, thanked him for his endeavours and dismissed him. She congratulated herself that Roddy and his two a.s.sociates were already out of France.

On the following afternoon, about half-past four, when the Continental express drew slowly into Charing Cross Station, where a knot of eager persons as usual awaited its arrival, the Princess, leading little Ignatia and wearing the ladybird as a brooch, descended from a first-cla.s.s compartment and looked about her in the bustling crowd of arrivals. A porter took her wraps and placed them in a four-wheeled cab for her, and then taking her baggage ticket said,--

"You'll meet me yonder at the Custom 'ouse, mum," leaving her standing by the cab, gazing around for the woman in black who was to be her maid.

For fully ten minutes, while the baggage was being taken out of the train, she saw no one answering to Roddy's description of his daughter; but at last from out of the crowd came a tall, slim, dark-haired, rather handsome young woman, with black eyes and refined, regular features, neatly dressed in black, wearing a sailor hat, a white lace cravat, and black kid gloves.

As she approached the Princess smiled at her; whereupon the girl, blushing in confusion, asked simply,--

"Is it the Crown Princess Claire? or am I mistaken?"

"Yes. And you are Leucha Redmayne," answered her Highness, shaking hands with her, for from the first moment she became favourably impressed.

"Oh, your Highness, I really hope I have not kept you waiting," she exclaimed concernedly. "But father's letter describing you was rather hurried and vague, and I've seen several ladies alone with little girls, though none of them seemed to be--well, not one of them seemed to be a Princess--only yourself. Besides, you are wearing the little ladybird."

Her Highness smiled, explained that she was very friendly with her father, who had suggested that she should enter her service as maid, and expressed a hope that she was willing.

"My father has entrusted to me a duty, Princess," was the dark-eyed girl's serious reply. "And I hope that you will not find me wanting in the fulfilment of it."

And then they went together within the Customs barrier and claimed the baggage.

The way in which she did this showed the Princess at once that Leucha Redmayne was a perfectly trained maid.

How many ladies, she wondered, had lost their jewels after employing her?

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

LEUCHA MAKES CONFESSION.

Leucha Redmayne was, as her father had declared, a very clever young woman.

She was known as "the Ladybird" on account of her habit of flitting from place to place, constantly taking situations in likely families. Most of the ladies in whose service she had been had regretted when she left, and many of them actually offered her higher wages to remain. She was quick and neat, had taken lessons in hairdressing and dressmaking in Paris, could speak French fluently, and possessed that quiet, dignified demeanour so essential to the maid of an aristocratic woman.

Her references were excellent. A well-known d.u.c.h.ess--whose jewels, however, had been too carefully guarded--and half a dozen other t.i.tled ladies testified to her honesty and good character, and also to their regret on account of her being compelled to leave their service; therefore, armed with such credentials, she never had difficulty in obtaining any situation that was vacant.

So ingenious was she, and so cleverly did she contrive to make her excuses for leaving the service of her various mistresses, that n.o.body, not even the most astute officers from Scotland Yard, ever suspected her.

The case of Lady Harefield's jewels, which readers of the present narrative of a royal scandal will well remember, was a typical one.

Leucha, who saw in the _Morning Post_ that Lady Harefield wanted a maid to travel, applied, and at once obtained the situation. She soon discovered that her Ladyship possessed some extremely valuable diamonds; but they were in the bank at Derby, near which town the country place was situated. She accompanied her Ladyship to the Riviera for the season, and then returning to England found out that her mistress intended to go to Court upon a certain evening, and that she would have the diamonds brought up from Derby on the preceding day. His Lordship's secretary was to be sent for them. As soon as she obtained this information she was taken suddenly ill, and left Lady Harefield's service to go back to her fict.i.tious home in the country. At once she called her father and Bourne, with the result that on the day in question, when Lord Harefield's secretary arrived at St. Pancras Station, the bag containing the jewels disappeared, and was never again seen.

More than once too, she had, by pre-arrangement with her father, left her mistress's bedroom window open and the jewel-case unlocked while the family were dining, with the result that the precious ornaments had been mysteriously abstracted. Many a time, after taking a situation, and finding that her mistress's jewels were paste, she had calmly left at the end of the week, feigning to be ill-tempered and dissatisfied, and not troubling about wages. If there were no jewels she never remained.

And wherever she chanced to be--in London, in the country, or up in Scotland--either one or other of her father's companions was generally lurking near to receive her secret communications.

Hers had from childhood been a life full of strange adventures, of ingenious deceptions, and of clever subterfuge. So closely did she keep her own counsel that not a single friend was aware of her motive in so constantly changing her employment; indeed, the majority of them put it down to her own fickleness, and blamed her for not "settling down."

Such was the woman whom the Crown Princess Claire had taken into her service.

At the Savoy, where she took up a temporary abode under the t.i.tle of Baroness Deitel of Frankfort, Leucha quickly exhibited her skill as lady's maid. Indeed, even Henriette was not so quick or deft as was this dark-eyed young woman who was the spy of a gang of thieves.

While she dressed the Princess's hair, her Highness explained how her valuable jewels had been stolen, and how her father had so generously restored them to her.

"Guy--Mr. Bourne, I mean--has already told me. He is back in London, and is lying low because of the police. They suspect him on account of a little affair up in Edinburgh about three months ago."

"Where is he?" asked the Princess; "I would so like to see him."

"He is living in secret over at Hammersmith. He dare not come here, I think."

"But we might perhaps pay him a visit--eh?"

From the manner in which the girl inadvertently referred to Bourne by his Christian name, her Highness suspected that they were fond of each other. But she said nothing, resolving to remain watchful and observe for herself.

That same evening, after dinner, when Ignatia was sleeping, and they sat together in her Highness's room overlooking the dark Thames and the long lines of lights of the Embankment, "the Ladybird," at the Princess's invitation, related one or two of her adventures, confessing openly to the part she had played as her father's spy. She would certainly have said nothing had not her Highness declared that she was interested, and urged her to tell her something of her life. Though trained as an a.s.sistant to these men ever since she had left the cheap boarding-school at Weymouth, she hated herself for the despicable part she had played, and yet, as she had often told herself, it had been of sheer necessity.

"Yes," she sighed, "I have had several narrow escapes of being suspected of the thefts. Once, when in Lady Milborne's service, down at Lyme Regis, I discovered that she kept the Milborne heirlooms, among which were some very fine old rubies--which are just now worth more than diamonds in the market--in a secret cupboard in the wall of her bedroom, behind an old family portrait. My father, with Guy, Kinder, and two others, were in the vicinity of the house ready to make the _coup_; and I arranged with them that on a certain evening, while her Ladyship was at dinner, I would put the best of the jewels into a wash-leather bag and lower them from the window to where Guy was to be in waiting for them in the park. He was to cut the string and disappear with the bag, while I would draw up the string and put it upon the fire. Her Ladyship seldom went to the secret cupboard, and some days might elapse before the theft was discovered. Well, on the evening in question I slipped up to the bedroom, obtained the rubies and let them out of the window. I felt the string being cut, and hauling it back again quickly burnt it, and then got away to another part of the house, hoping that her Ladyship would not go to her jewels for a day or two. In the meantime I dare not leave her service, or suspicion might fall upon me. Besides, the Honourable George, her eldest son--a fellow with a rather bad reputation for gambling and racing--was about to be married to the daughter of a wealthy landowner in the neighbourhood; a most excellent match for him, as the Milbornes had become poor owing to the depreciation in the value of land.

"About two hours after I had let down the precious little bag I chanced to be looking out into the park from my own window, and saw a man in the public footway strike three matches in order to light his pipe--the signal that my friends wanted to speak to me. In surprise I slipped out, and there found Guy, who, to my utter amazement, told me that they had not received the bag; they had been forestalled by a tall man in evening dress who had emerged from the Hall, and who chanced to be walking up and down smoking when the bag dangled in front of him!

Imagine my feelings!

"Unfortunately I had not looked out, for fear of betraying myself; and as it was the exact hour appointed, I felt certain that my friend would be there. The presence of the man in evening dress, however, deterred them from emerging from the bushes, and they were compelled to remain concealed and watch my peril. The man looked up, and though the room was in darkness, he could see my white ap.r.o.n. Then in surprise he cut the string, and having opened the bag in the light, saw what it contained, placed it in his pocket, and re-entered the house. Guy described him, and I at once knew that it was the Honourable George, my mistress's son. He would no doubt denounce me as a thief.