May 27, 2025 • 10 mins
On the eve of the high-society wedding between the lovely Juliet Phayre and the enigmatic Duke of Claremanagh, Emmy West pays a visit, eager to catch a glimpse of the legendary Tsarina pearls, jewels meant only for the eyes of the Duchess. When Juliet confesses shes never laid eyes on them, Emmys surprising admission that she has seen them once sets off a series of questions. Considering the last duchess passed away many years ago, who could have possibly worn them? Who is this mysterious Lyda Pavoya? And most importantly, who exactly is the man Juliet is about to marry?
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Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter sixteen of The Great Pearl Secret. This is a
LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information of a volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
The Great Pearl Secret by Charles Norris Williamson, Chapter sixteen,
(00:22):
The Gray Room. Pat Clremenna floated in a gray sea
under a gray sky. It seemed to him that the
gray sea and sky were part of some existence after death.
He vaguely remembered that he had died. If it were
not for the constant, heavy pain in his head, he
(00:43):
thought that he could recall the whole incident. Yes, that
was the word incident. It hardly mattered now, and wasn't
worth while racking his brain over. That tin hat of
his was too tight, much, too tight, But he was
too weak to lift his hands and take it off.
(01:04):
Strange though, that he should be wearing it when he
was dead. He must have been killed in the war.
Yet how long ago the war seemed. He had thought
that a great many things had happened to him after
the war, No doubt they were part of this dream,
this long floating dream after death. But they were not
(01:27):
gray like the leaden sea and the sky that hung
so low over his head. They were beautiful, colorful things.
Just straining to remember brought rainbow flashes across his brain.
Out of these lights, the girl's face looked at him, Juliette.
He heard himself mutter in a thick, tongue tied voice.
(01:50):
Instantly another face appeared and blotted out that of the girl.
This one was solid and very real. It bent over
him in the grayness, a man's face, somehow familiar, as
if he had known it long ago, long ago. Disliked it,
a fleshy bulk surround it with hair. He loathed it
(02:12):
for itself, and hated it for shutting out the vision
of juliet So he closed his eyes for a moment.
Consciousness died down like a fading flame. Only a vast,
vague grayness was left, and the tight pain of the
tin hat. But when a few moments or a few
years had passed, a voice spoke. It beat upon his
(02:35):
dulled intelligence, like the strokes of a clock in the dark,
telling an hour. Pat was suddenly keyed up to listening
because it was a woman's voice, and far down within
himself he was aware that a woman's voice a certain
woman's voice was what he yearned to hear. Strange. He
(02:57):
was wide awake, and knowledge came to him that he
was not dead after all, though he might be close
to death. But he did not open his eyes because
he could not bear to see the living mass of
flesh and hair. Again, he lay quite still, and he listened.
You are always hanging over him like that whenever I
(03:18):
turn my back, said the woman. Why not I do
no harm, answered a man's voice with a rather soft,
monotonous foreign accent. Pat knew that the voice belonged to
the face. It also had association with long past things,
which was somehow important. A scene began forming in his
(03:39):
tired mind, like bits of an old picture being matched together.
A room with tables and men drinking and smoking, a
cleared space, a kind of stage, A girl dancing, slim,
lovely light as a fawn, long red hair, waving back
and forth. Lida that was her name, Lider something. He
(04:06):
was at one of the tables, very young, only a boy,
and the hairy man sat with him, talking, praising the girl. Markov.
He stopped remembering and listened again. You'd do harm if
you dared to, the woman said, you'd like to kill him.
(04:26):
I think it will be better for us all if
he die, said the man. Much better, much safer, but
no violence. Let him go fade away. I thought it
would soon be finished with him. Then he opened his
eyes and look at me. You hear him speak some word? Yes,
(04:48):
I heard him, the woman answered. It's the first time
he's made a sound since, except a sort of groaning.
I'm jolly glad. We don't want him to drop off
the hooks, not much. You are very foolish, madam. He
can give your husband and the oass away. It is
(05:09):
only me who have nursing to fear. He did not
see me there yet I am witness against anyone's who
treat me wrong. Pooh, said the woman. You are always
harping on your powers to hurt us. It's nil. The
hunt's out for you, mister Markoff or Halbin or whatever
you like to be. If we're keeping you for our
(05:30):
own sakes because you haven't paid up anyhow, it's your
game to lie low. You don't show your nose outside
this door. But for heaven's sake, let's stop arguing. I'm
for nothing in that part of the business. You have
all got some plan. You try to work behind my back,
growled the man. I tell you enough times. The money
(05:52):
will come. When it comes, you'll get the pearls if
it comes in time. That's the rub. The word pearls
was like a key. It unlocked the door of Pat's memory,
and impressions flowed in, but they were confused, without beginning
or end, and he lay motionless, hoping for more clues.
(06:15):
He was conscious that the woman leaned over him. She
brought with her a heavy oriental perfume, and he felt
a waft of warm breath on his face. Are you awake,
she asked, speaking slowly. Do you know what happened to
hurt you? Eh? Pat did not show, by the quiver
of an eyelid that he had heard. When he come
(06:37):
back to himself, bang by, he will remember everything perhaps,
and then where will you all be? The man wanted
to know. He never will remember unless there's someone to
give him the tip. People don't remember with concussion. The
woman said, so that was what he had, concussion of
(06:59):
the brain. Pat wondered how he had got it. One
of the impressions filtering back was of hitting a man
and hearing him squeal. What had followed was a blank,
like everything, since maybe some other man had hit him
from behind. The woman moved away, and cautiously Pat opened
(07:19):
his eyes. The grayness was still there, but it was
more definite, more commonplace, as if belonging to earth and
things of every day life. He thought that he must
be lying on his back in a bed, looking straight
up at a low gray ceiling. There were gray walls, too,
but he could not turn his head to see more,
(07:40):
as his neck was stiff and painful. The light was
so dim that he imagined it must be drawing toward
dusk in a room with small windows partly covered with curtains.
More talking went on at a distance between the man
and woman. Sometimes it sounded so far off that Pat
wondered if there there was an adjoining room with an
(08:01):
open door. Presently, when all had been silent for so
long that he had almost dozed off, there was a
sudden explosion of voices. The listener fancied that there were
two new ones, both voices of men and one he recognized,
though irritatingly he could not attach the right name label.
(08:22):
He kept his eyes closed because he was sure that
the late comers would look at him, and his caution
was rewarded. Someone turned on alight. The two new voices
mumbled in sick bed whispers across his pillow. He caught
a word here and there again the pearls, Markov and
the Duchess. The last gave him an odd thrill. Juliet,
(08:47):
she had been angry? How was she feeling now? Was
she seeking for him? Or did she give him credit
for running off with the pearls or Lider or both together.
The thought that this might be so, probably was so,
made him long to spring up and fight his way
to his wife somehow, And perhaps he could not have
(09:10):
resisted attempting to move, had not A sudden noise snapped
the thread of his thought. A quarrel had broken out
over something between the men. All three voices rose sharply.
The woman intervened and was rebuked. Then came a squawl
of rage. Instantly stifled, the woman screamed and drew in
(09:31):
her breath with a gasp. All was still again. Hark
whispered someone. The light went out. In place of the grayness,
blackness fell. Pat could hear the pounding of his own heart,
and another sound, almost hidden by the noise, in his breast.
He thought that stairs were squeaking under a stealthy foot
(09:55):
end of Chapter sixteen,
Chapter sixteen of The Great Pearl Secret. This is a
LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain.
For more information of a volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org.
The Great Pearl Secret by Charles Norris Williamson, Chapter sixteen,
(00:22):
The Gray Room. Pat Clremenna floated in a gray sea
under a gray sky. It seemed to him that the
gray sea and sky were part of some existence after death.
He vaguely remembered that he had died. If it were
not for the constant, heavy pain in his head, he
(00:43):
thought that he could recall the whole incident. Yes, that
was the word incident. It hardly mattered now, and wasn't
worth while racking his brain over. That tin hat of
his was too tight, much, too tight, But he was
too weak to lift his hands and take it off.
(01:04):
Strange though, that he should be wearing it when he
was dead. He must have been killed in the war.
Yet how long ago the war seemed. He had thought
that a great many things had happened to him after
the war, No doubt they were part of this dream,
this long floating dream after death. But they were not
(01:27):
gray like the leaden sea and the sky that hung
so low over his head. They were beautiful, colorful things.
Just straining to remember brought rainbow flashes across his brain.
Out of these lights, the girl's face looked at him, Juliette.
He heard himself mutter in a thick, tongue tied voice.
(01:50):
Instantly another face appeared and blotted out that of the girl.
This one was solid and very real. It bent over
him in the grayness, a man's face, somehow familiar, as
if he had known it long ago, long ago. Disliked it,
a fleshy bulk surround it with hair. He loathed it
(02:12):
for itself, and hated it for shutting out the vision
of juliet So he closed his eyes for a moment.
Consciousness died down like a fading flame. Only a vast,
vague grayness was left, and the tight pain of the
tin hat. But when a few moments or a few
years had passed, a voice spoke. It beat upon his
(02:35):
dulled intelligence, like the strokes of a clock in the dark,
telling an hour. Pat was suddenly keyed up to listening
because it was a woman's voice, and far down within
himself he was aware that a woman's voice a certain
woman's voice was what he yearned to hear. Strange. He
(02:57):
was wide awake, and knowledge came to him that he
was not dead after all, though he might be close
to death. But he did not open his eyes because
he could not bear to see the living mass of
flesh and hair. Again, he lay quite still, and he listened.
You are always hanging over him like that whenever I
(03:18):
turn my back, said the woman. Why not I do
no harm, answered a man's voice with a rather soft,
monotonous foreign accent. Pat knew that the voice belonged to
the face. It also had association with long past things,
which was somehow important. A scene began forming in his
(03:39):
tired mind, like bits of an old picture being matched together.
A room with tables and men drinking and smoking, a
cleared space, a kind of stage, A girl dancing, slim,
lovely light as a fawn, long red hair, waving back
and forth. Lida that was her name, Lider something. He
(04:06):
was at one of the tables, very young, only a boy,
and the hairy man sat with him, talking, praising the girl. Markov.
He stopped remembering and listened again. You'd do harm if
you dared to, the woman said, you'd like to kill him.
(04:26):
I think it will be better for us all if
he die, said the man. Much better, much safer, but
no violence. Let him go fade away. I thought it
would soon be finished with him. Then he opened his
eyes and look at me. You hear him speak some word? Yes,
(04:48):
I heard him, the woman answered. It's the first time
he's made a sound since, except a sort of groaning.
I'm jolly glad. We don't want him to drop off
the hooks, not much. You are very foolish, madam. He
can give your husband and the oass away. It is
(05:09):
only me who have nursing to fear. He did not
see me there yet I am witness against anyone's who
treat me wrong. Pooh, said the woman. You are always
harping on your powers to hurt us. It's nil. The
hunt's out for you, mister Markoff or Halbin or whatever
you like to be. If we're keeping you for our
(05:30):
own sakes because you haven't paid up anyhow, it's your
game to lie low. You don't show your nose outside
this door. But for heaven's sake, let's stop arguing. I'm
for nothing in that part of the business. You have
all got some plan. You try to work behind my back,
growled the man. I tell you enough times. The money
(05:52):
will come. When it comes, you'll get the pearls if
it comes in time. That's the rub. The word pearls
was like a key. It unlocked the door of Pat's memory,
and impressions flowed in, but they were confused, without beginning
or end, and he lay motionless, hoping for more clues.
(06:15):
He was conscious that the woman leaned over him. She
brought with her a heavy oriental perfume, and he felt
a waft of warm breath on his face. Are you awake,
she asked, speaking slowly. Do you know what happened to
hurt you? Eh? Pat did not show, by the quiver
of an eyelid that he had heard. When he come
(06:37):
back to himself, bang by, he will remember everything perhaps,
and then where will you all be? The man wanted
to know. He never will remember unless there's someone to
give him the tip. People don't remember with concussion. The
woman said, so that was what he had, concussion of
(06:59):
the brain. Pat wondered how he had got it. One
of the impressions filtering back was of hitting a man
and hearing him squeal. What had followed was a blank,
like everything, since maybe some other man had hit him
from behind. The woman moved away, and cautiously Pat opened
(07:19):
his eyes. The grayness was still there, but it was
more definite, more commonplace, as if belonging to earth and
things of every day life. He thought that he must
be lying on his back in a bed, looking straight
up at a low gray ceiling. There were gray walls, too,
but he could not turn his head to see more,
(07:40):
as his neck was stiff and painful. The light was
so dim that he imagined it must be drawing toward
dusk in a room with small windows partly covered with curtains.
More talking went on at a distance between the man
and woman. Sometimes it sounded so far off that Pat
wondered if there there was an adjoining room with an
(08:01):
open door. Presently, when all had been silent for so
long that he had almost dozed off, there was a
sudden explosion of voices. The listener fancied that there were
two new ones, both voices of men and one he recognized,
though irritatingly he could not attach the right name label.
(08:22):
He kept his eyes closed because he was sure that
the late comers would look at him, and his caution
was rewarded. Someone turned on alight. The two new voices
mumbled in sick bed whispers across his pillow. He caught
a word here and there again the pearls, Markov and
the Duchess. The last gave him an odd thrill. Juliet,
(08:47):
she had been angry? How was she feeling now? Was
she seeking for him? Or did she give him credit
for running off with the pearls or Lider or both together.
The thought that this might be so, probably was so,
made him long to spring up and fight his way
to his wife somehow, And perhaps he could not have
(09:10):
resisted attempting to move, had not A sudden noise snapped
the thread of his thought. A quarrel had broken out
over something between the men. All three voices rose sharply.
The woman intervened and was rebuked. Then came a squawl
of rage. Instantly stifled, the woman screamed and drew in
(09:31):
her breath with a gasp. All was still again. Hark
whispered someone. The light went out. In place of the grayness,
blackness fell. Pat could hear the pounding of his own heart,
and another sound, almost hidden by the noise, in his breast.
He thought that stairs were squeaking under a stealthy foot
(09:55):
end of Chapter sixteen,
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