Mystery & Suspense - Daily Short Stories

The Cheated Juliet

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Duration:: 13m
Broadcast on:: 01 Jul 2024
Audio Format:: mp3

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Just head over to solgoodmedia.com and sign up to start your free trial today. No ads, no interruptions, just pure, immersive audio content. Don't miss out. Transform your listening experience with Solgood Media. Visit solgoodmedia.com and start your free trial now. We can't wait for you to join our audio community. Happy listening. The Cheetah Juliet. Extracted from the memoirs of a retired burglar. The housing question was what Peter the scholar, who corrects my proof sheets, calls one of the runes for his sort. The front facing a street and the back looking over a turfed garden with a lime tree or two, a labernum, and a lawn tennis cork marked out. It's white lines playing to see in the starlight. At the end of the garden, a door painted dark green, led into a narrow lane between high walls. Where, if two persons met, one had to turn sideways to let the other pass. The entrance to this lane was cut in two by a wooden post about half the height of your hip. And just beyond this, in the high road, George was waiting for us with a dog cart. We had picked the usual time, the dinner hour. It had just turned dark and the church clock two streets away was chiming the quarter after eight. When Peter and I let ourselves in by the green door, I spoke of and felt along the wall for the gardener's ladder that we knew was hanging there. A simple job there never was. The bedroom window we had marked on the first floor stood right open to the night air and inside there was the light of a candle or two flickering. Just as the careless maid will leave them after her mistress has gone down to dinner. To be sure, there was a chance of her coming back to put them out, but we could hear her voice going in the servant's hall as we lifted the ladder and rested it against the seal. "She's good for half an hour yet," Peter whispered, holding the ladder while I began to climb. But if I hear her voice stop, I'll give the signal to be cautious. I went up softly, pushed my head gently above the level of the seal and looked in. There was a roomy place with a great half-tested bed hung with curtains, standing out from the wall on my right. The curtains were of chintz, a dark background with flaming red poppies sprawling over it. And the further curtain hid the dressing table and the candle's upon it and the jewel case that I confidently hoped to stand upon it also. Her bright Brussels carpet covered the floor and the wallpaper I remember, though for the life of me I can't tell why, was a pale grey ground worked out to imitate watered silk with sprigs of gilt honeysuckle upon it. I looked around and listened for half a minute. The house was still as death up here. Not a sound in the room or in the passages beyond. With a nod to Peter to hold the ladder firm I lifted one leg over the seal, then the other dropped my feet carefully upon the thick carpet and went quickly round the bed to the dressing table. But at the corner and as soon as ever I saw around the chintz curtain my knees gave way and I put out a hand toward the bedpost. Before the dressing table and in front of the big glass in which she could see my white face was an old lady seated. She wore a blaze of jewels and a low gown out of which rose the scraggiest neck and shoulders I ever looked upon. Her hair was thick with black dye and fastened with a diamond star. The powder between the two candles showed her cheekbones like flour on a miller's coat. Chin on hand she was gazing steadily into the mirror before her and even in my fright I had time to note a glass of sherry and a plate of rice and curry sooted her elbow among the rouge pots and powder puffs. While I stood stock still and pretty well scared out of my wits she rose, still staring at my image in the glass, folded her hands modestly over her bosom and spoke in a deep tragical voice. The prince, then facing sharply around she held out her thin arms. You have come at last? There wasn't much to say to this except that I had, so I confessed it, even with the candles behind her I could see her eyes glowing like a dog and an uglier poor creature this world could scarcely show. "Is the lightest set against the window? Since you seem to know, ma'am," said I, "it is." "Ah, Romeo, your cheeks are ready, your poppies are too red. Then I am glad my colours come back. For to tell the truth you did give me a turn just at first. You were looking out for me, no doubt. My prince, she stretched out her arms again and being pretty well at my wits hand and let her embrace me. It has been too long," she said, "oh, the weary while, and they ill treat me here. Where have you been all this tedious time?" I wasn't going to answer that, you may be sure. It appeared to me that towards my right to ask questions rather than stand there answering them. "They've been ill treating you, ma'am," said I, "they shall answer for it. My love." "Yes, ma'am. Would it be taking a liberty if I ask their names?" "There is Gertrude. Gertrude's hash is as good as settled, ma'am. I checked of Gertrude on my thumb. That's my niece. For a moment I feared I'd been a little too prompt, but she went on." And next there's Henry and the children who have more than once made faces at me. Hey Phipson, Phipson's in it too. You know her? Don't I? It surprised me a trifle to find that Phipson was a female. Three times tonight she pulled my hair and the rice she brought me. Look at it. All stuck together and sodden. Phipson shall pay for it with her blood. My hero, my darling, don't spare Phipson. She screams bitterly if a pin is stuck in her. I did it once, stick her all over with pins. By this time I'd begun to guess what was pretty near the truth. That I was talking with a mad aunt or the family below, and that the game was in my hands if I played with decent care. So I brought her to face the important question. "Look here," I said, "all this shall be done when you are out of their hands. At present I'm running a considerable risk in braving these prosecutors of yawn. Dearest mad aunt, the ladders outside and the carriage waiting, how don't we better elope at once? She gave a sob and fell on my arms. Oh, is it true? Is it true? Pinch me that I may wake if this is but a happy dream. Are you ready?" This moment. There is just one other little thing, ma'am, your jewels. You won't leave them to your enemies, I suppose. This was the dangerous moment, and I felt a twitch of the nerves as I watched her face. To see how she would take the suggestion. But the poor silly soul turned up her eyes to mine, all full of tears and confidence. "Dearest, I am old, old. Had you come earlier, my beauty had not wanted jewels to set it off. But now I must wear them to look my best as your bride." She hid her face in her hands for a second, then turned to the dressing table, lifted her jewel case and put it into my hands. "I am ready." She repeated. "Let us be quick and stealthy as death." She followed me to the window, and looking out, drew back. "What horrible black deaths!" "It's as easy," said I, "as pie, you could do it on your head. Look here." I climbed out first and helped her, setting her feet on the rungs. We went down in silence, eye choking with laughter all the way at the side of Peter Below, who was looking with his mouth open and his lips too weak to meet on the curses of wonderment that arose from the depths of him. When I touched a turf and handed him the jewel case, he took it like a man in a trance. We put the light up back in its place and stole over the turf together. But outside the garden door Peter could stand no more of it. "I have a firearm in my pocket," whispered he, pulling up, "and I am going to fire it off to relieve my feelings if you don't explain here and now. Who in pity's name is she?" "You mug, she's the original sleeping beauty. I'm a loping with her and you've got her jewels." "Pardon me, Jim," he says in his gentlemanly way, "if you don't quite see, are you taking off to melt her or marry her? For how to get rid of her, else?" The poor old creature had halted two, three paces ahead of us, and waited while we whispered, with the moonlight that slanted down into the lane, widening her bare neck and flashing in her jewels. "One moment," I said, and stepped forward to her, "you had better take off those ornaments here, my dear, and give them to my servant to take care of. There's a carriage waiting for us at the end of the lane, and when he has stoked them under the seat we can climb in and drive off. To the end of the world, to the very rim of it, my hero, she pulled the gems from her ears, hair and bosom, and handed them to Peter, who received them with a bow. Next she searched her pocket and drew out a tiny key. Peter unlocked the case, and, having carefully stowed, the diamonds inside, locked it again, handed back the key, touched his hat, and walked off towards the dog-cut. My dearest lady I began as soon as we were alone between the high walls, it's a devotion of a life, her bare arm crept into mine. There is a little time left for us in which to be happy, year after year I have marked off the almanac. Day by day I have watched the dial, I saw my sisters married, and my sisters daughters, and still I waited. Each had a man to love her and tend her, but none had such a man as I would have chosen. There were none like you, my prince. No, I dare say not. Oh, but my heart is not so old. Take my hand, it is firm and strong. Watch my lips, they are burning, a low whistle sounded at the top of the lane. As I took her hands I pushed her back, and turning ran for my life. I suppose that as I ran I counted forty before her scream came, and then the sound of her feet pelt, and then the sound of her feet pattering after me. She must have run like a demon, for I was less than ten yards ahead when Peter caught my wrist and pulled me up onto the back seat of the dog cart, and before George could set the horse going her hand clutched at the flap on which my feet rested. It missed its grasp, and she never got near enough again, but for half a minute I looked into that horrible face following us, and working with silent rage, and for half a mile at least I heard the patter of her feet in the darkness behind. Indeed, I can hear it now. And of… A Cheetah Juliet! Bye Q. Hello, it is Ryan, and I was on a flight the other day playing one of my favorite social spin slot games on Chumbakasino.com. 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