"What does this mean?" she said, contemptuously. "My son, Mr.
Carruthers, charged with stealing a watch? What does it mean, Mr.
Forster?"
"Lady Carruthers," said the lawyer, "it is true. I was in court when
your son, under the name of John Smith, pleaded guilty to the charge of
getting in the room belonging to Count Jules St. Croix, and I, myself,
heard him sentenced to six months' imprisonment."
She sat for some minutes, silent, mute and motionless. Then in a low
voice she asked: "Is he mad?"
"That was my first thought. It is some weeks since I had seen him, and
yesterday morning a note was brought to my office, from a gentleman in
court, telling me your son was in the dock. I hastened there and found
it true. You may imagine how quickly I followed him and implored of him
to tell me the mystery, for mystery I feel sure there is. Instead of
looking ashamed of himself and miserable, he had a light in his face
that puzzled me. I blamed him, told him the consequences--how his life
would be useless to him after this, but he only smiled; my words made no
impression on him; he evidently derived comfort and support from some
source known to himself and no others."
"And is it possible?" asked Lady Carruthers, with ghastly face; "does he
lie in prison now?"
"He does indeed, and there he must remain until the six months are
ended."
CHAPTER V.
Lady Carruthers.
My lady rose from her seat with an air of almost tragical dignity.
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