Meg's Friend Part 23

"You cannot deny that you were there. I met you there!" Miss Pinkett rejoined excitedly.

"What do you mean?" said Meg. She looked round in a dazed manner, then a sudden fury gripped her throat as she understood the drift of the questions.

"Do you mean to say that you accuse me of stealing?"

"It does not amount to an accusation," said Miss Reeves. "I only ask you what you were doing in Miss Pinkett's room?"

"I never touched the diamond star," said Meg.

"Never! Do you mean," cried Miss Pinkett, "that you did not touch it that day I found you in my room with the diamond in your hand?"

"I touched it that day," said Meg, and paused; she had caught sight of Elsie, cowering pale and trembling against the wall.

"Why did you touch it? Why did you say I ought not to leave it about?"

hotly questioned Miss Pinkett.

"I had a reason for touching it that day."

"What reason?" asked Miss Reeves.

"One which I cannot tell. It was a good reason. Believe it or not, I don't care. But I did not touch it to-day. I did not see it."

"You were in my room," said Miss Pinkett, "and the diamond case was on the table, and the diamond was in it, I know."

"I was in your room," Meg began.

"What for?" asked Miss Pinkett.

"I was looking"--again Meg encountered that appealing look from Elsie, cowering a white trembling little sc.r.a.p against the wall.

"Your explanations are lame," said Miss Reeves gravely.

"I don't care if they are lame or not," Meg interrupted fiercely. "I have not taken that diamond. That is all I have to say. I have not taken it. I had it one day in my hand. Appearances may be so far against me; but if you condemn me on that, you do it out of your hatred to me."

"Hush, Miss Beecham!" said Miss Reeves severely.

"You hate and despise me because I have no one who belongs to me in the world," continued Meg. "You call me a gypsy girl and a tramp, that's what you call me. I don't care if you hate and despise me. I can't help what I was born, and I don't want to help it. What I know is that I have not taken that diamond."

A murmur ran round the room, but Meg did not pause to consider its nature. She turned in her ungovernable indignation, and pus.h.i.+ng through her companions she flung open the door and slammed it after her. Again she caught a glimpse of Elsie's terrorized face and figure as she rushed past.

She went out into the playground to breathe the fresh air, trembling with fury. The old wild self had returned to her, taking with it seven devils. Her heart felt too big for her breast. Tearless sobs shook her as with all the vehemence of her spirit she repelled the charge brought against her.

Then again she seemed to see before her the wretched, cringing little figure of Elsie, and the large eyes fixed wistfully upon her. A suspicion fell cold and terrible on Meg's heart and checked her wrath.

She had vaguely interpreted that look as an entreaty not to reveal Elsie's admiration for the gem. It seemed now to convey another meaning. How could she see that child alone, get a few secret words with her?

She went indoors, and in the hall she met Elsie, like a little ghost, furtively creeping out, holding something in her shaking hand.

"What is it, Elsie?"

"They are going to search our things, everybody's things," gasped Elsie.

"I am going to throw it away."

"Throw what away?" asked Meg energetically.

"The diamond," the convulsive voice of the child answered; and still she held something tight hidden in the small shaking hand covered with a network of blue veins.

"Oh, Elsie, did you take the diamond?" asked Meg sadly.

"Yes, I thought--I thought Miss Pinkett would not wear it. I wanted to have it for one night. I--I thought she would not find it out. I heard her say she was not going to wear it. Where shall I throw it away?"

"You must not throw it away," said Meg. "Some one else would be suspected. Come, Elsie, you must be brave. You must say that you took it. Come with me, I'll say it for you."

She put her arm about the child. But Elsie struggled like a little mad animal from her grasp.

"No, no; don't say it was I--don't say it was I!"

An infinite compa.s.sion seized Meg when she saw the big tears welling in Elsie's eyes, and she asked herself how she could save this little one.

Pity grew into the stronger motive and smothered fear. It was Meg's nature that what she undertook to do she did thoroughly.

"I will ask to be punished in your stead, Elsie," she said.

"They won't punish you for me--they won't let you be punished for me!"

Meg drew her breath.

"They don't think it is I--they don't think it is I!" sobbed Elsie, clinging to Meg. "Don't say it is I!"

The child was cold with anguish.

"Very well; I will not say it is you."

"You'll not say it--you'll not say it?" repeated Elsie, clinging to Meg's skirt.

"No; I'll manage it," said Meg.

"How will you manage it? Who will give the diamond up?"

"I," said Meg.

The child put her arms round Meg's neck, kissing her over and over again, and reiterating her cry not to say she had taken it.

Meg put her gently away, marched out and went straight into the room where all were a.s.sembled.

Miss Reeves with Signora Vallaria and two other teachers were preparing for the search of the boxes. Meg walked up to the head-mistress.

"There is the diamond!" she said, holding it out with outstretched hand.

A dead pause greeted this speech. Then Miss Pinkett's laugh rippled up.