# The Bartenstein Case/Chapter 8

CHAPTER III
STORY OF THE HIDALGO'S CURSE
The person who was now shown into Inspector Dwayne's room might, but for his modern dress, have stepped out of one of the canvases of Velasquez. He was a tall and very stately gentleman, of a clear olive complexion, very black of hair and eye, and possessed of a pair of formidable moustaches and a small beard, carefully trimmed to a point. Irreproachably clad in the finest of black cloth, and wearing immaculate linen, he made a figure of distinction as, drawing his heels together and executing a sweep of his glossy, wide-brimmed, high-crowned hat, he saluted those present with a profound bow.
"Good morning, sir," said Inspector Dwayne, rising and placing a chair for the new-comer. "Be seated, sir." He glanced at the card which Wilson had given him. "Mr. Carlos———"
"The Señor Carlos Juan Olivares," said the Spanish gentleman in a deep voice.
The Inspector made a polite bow, and when his visitor was seated resumed his own chair.
"I understand, señor, that you wish to tell me ​something about the sword-stick which is mentioned in the newspapers in connection with the Bartenstein case?" he said.
Señor Olivares made a deprecating motion of his handsome head.
"Pardon, sir, no," he replied. "That is not primarily, though I have no doubt that I could tell you much. My object in attending you was not so much to give as to receive information."
"Oh!" said the Inspector. "And in what way, sir?"
"I have reason to believe," answered the Spaniard, who spoke very slowly but in excellent English, "that the sword-stick which you describe as having been found in the now deceased Mr. Bartenstein's room is one which, if everyone had their own, is my property."
Inspector Dwayne who, before Señor Olivares's entrance had replaced the sword-stick in the cupboard, glanced at Lauderdale.
"Well, señor," he said, "here is another gentleman who also claims the sword-stick as his property, and who, moreover, says that it has been the property of his family for over a hundred years—in fact, since the first campaign in the Peninsular War."
Señor Olivares regarded Lauderdale with a calm and dignified look, and bent his head courteously.
"Just so," said he. "It was about that time that it passed out of the keeping of its rightful owner, my great-grandsire."
​"My great-grandfather, señor," said Lauderdale, "became possessed of the sword-stick in Spain under very romantic circumstances."
"It was given to him, sir, by a young Spanish lady with whom he had an affair of love," said Señor Olivares quietly. "Is it not so, sir?"
"Well, yes, that is so," answered Lauderdale, somewhat taken aback. "I see you know something of the story."
"I know all of it, sir," said Señor Olivares. "For the young lady was an ancestor of my own. Sir, may I ask you a question?"
"As many as you please, señor," replied Lauderdale.
"How did your great-grandfather meet his death?" inquired the Spaniard.
"He was drowned at sea," replied Lauderdale.
"And your grandfather?"
"He broke his neck in the hunting-field."
"And—you will pardon me, señor—if your father is dead, how did he die?" asked the questioner.
"My father is dead," answered Lauderdale. "He was killed at the Battle of Colenso during the Boer War."
Señor Olivares made a low bow.
"Quite so, sir," he said. "That is exactly what I expected to hear. Indeed, I could not have heard anything else."
"But why, señor?" asked Lauderdale.
"Because it is what I expected—nay, was certain to hear," replied the Spaniard. "Were I ​you, sir, I should rejoice that the sword-stick had passed out of my possession."
"Well, I don't rejoice," said Lauderdale with characteristic British bluntness. "The thing's been an heirloom in our family for over a hundred years, and I don't mean to lose possession of it if I can help it. I don't care whom it belonged to in the beginning—your family or any other family—I know it was given to my great-grandfather and therefore became his. And again I ask, why did you expect to hear that my ancestors died as they did?"
Señor Olivares bent his large and melancholy eyes more deeply on the young Englishman.
"Because, sir, they could not have died in any other way," he answered. "The sword-stick is accursed—until it is returned to its rightful owner—myself."
"Oh, bosh!" answered Lauderdale. "Who's going to believe that sort of rot at this time of day?"
"It is nevertheless as I say, sir," affirmed the Spaniard. "Consider now—your great grandsire is drowned; your grandfather broke his neck; your father dies in battle—a most honourable death, sir, but one of violence. And over you yourself at this moment hangs the shadow of death by violence."
"What do you mean, sir?" exclaimed Lauderdale, half angrily.
"Are you not suspected of the murder of Mr. Bartenstein, and on very strong evidence?" ​said the Spaniard. "I tell you, sir, the sword-stick is accursed so long as it remains out of the proprietorship of its rightful owner. What happened to Bartenstein when he became possessed of it?"
"Ah," broke in Inspector Dwayne who, at this juncture, saw matters coming more within his own province, "now we're touching on something practical. What I want to get at just now, Lieutenant Lauderdale, is how did Bartenstein get hold of that sword-stick? Mind, I don't say that it would clear you of suspicion if he did buy it, for you might have seen it in his room, picked it up and used it upon him in a moment of rage or temper, but if we can prove that you didn't carry it there with you, it's a point considerably in your favour. Now, Mr. Hasleton here had brought us to the point where he parted with the stick to a Mr. Aaron Abrahams, when the señor came in. What do you suggest, Mr. Hasleton?"
The lame young man, who had remained silent since the entrance of Señor Olivares, but had shown great interest in that gentleman and his statements, now became more animated.
"It seems to me," said he, "that the first thing to do is to find out if Señor Olivares is talking of the same sword-stick that we were discussing. Although both he and Lieutenant Lauderdale are evidently conversant with the romantic circumstances under which the stick passed from Spanish to English hands, the señor has not put ​forward any evidence to show that they are speaking of the same stick, or that he is entitled to it."
"Very well put, Mr. Hasleton," said the Inspector. "Now, señor, what do you say to that?"
"Merely this, sir," answered the Spaniard, drawing out a pocket-book and producing from it a document which had become yellow with age, "that I have here a paper, written by my grandsire, Don Raman Olivares, of Seville, in which the history of the sword-stick is set forth. Now, strange as it may seem, it is only recently that I became possessed of this paper, and therefore with the story of the stick. I have been settled in England for many years as a wine-merchant in the City—in fact, London is now my home, though I am not, and do not intend to be, naturalized, much as I admire this great nation. Very recently, on the death of my father, I received a chest full of family documents, and in going through them I discovered this. Until then I had no knowledge of the matter—if my father had, he certainly never mentioned it to me."
"Does the document throw any light on the matter, señor?" asked Inspector Dwayne. "If not———"
"That is precisely how you take it, sir," replied the Spaniard, unfolding the time-stained paper. "There is here a complete description of the sword-stick, which tallies entirely with that given ​in this afternoon's newspapers, and there is also the history of it and the curse attaching to it. If that is of moment to the case———"
The Inspector by his manner seemed to show that he did not think it did, but Mr. Hasleton, who was obviously inquisitive, suggested that the history should certainly be placed before them.
"Well, simply then, señor," said Inspector Dwayne, glancing at his watch. "I have further work in this matter tonight—in which I shall want your assistance, Mr. Hasleton. And yours, Lieutenant," he added with a significant glance at Lauderdale. "Well, señor, what is it?"
Señor Olivares, putting on the bridge of his fine nose a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, consulted the document in his hand.
"You must know, gentlemen," he said, "that although I prefer to rank amongst you as a plain and unpretentious citizen, I am of noble blood, being descended from the great Gaspar de Guzman, Count Duke of Olivares, who was in his time the powerful minister of Philip the Fourth.
"Now it was to Olivares that this sword-stick was presented by His Majesty himself, and the inscription, which is described as now being almost illegible, was chased upon the silver head by direct orders of Philip himself. Whatever value the Count Duke placed upon this royal gift does not appear, but it eventually passed into the keeping of my branch of the family, represented about a hundred and seventy years ​ago by a hidalgo of a very proud and fierce temperament who, being enamoured of this link between ourselves and Philip the Fourth, wrote a history of the sword-stick on parchment, in which he commanded it to be kept for ever as a family heirloom, and appended to the history a curse which set forth that whoever suffered it to leave the family, or whoever received it from the family, should die a violent and sudden death.
It remained in the family until the time of the Peninsular War, when an English officer—the great-grandfather of this gentleman, I presume—became the family's guest and participated in an amour with the daughter of the house. She, knowing that he had a great fancy for this stick, and either being ignorant of the curse or caring nothing for it, gave it to him when he left, and concealed the matter from her people for some time. Then it passed out of possession of my family. Since I received and read this document I have done all I could to discover the whereabouts of the stick, but as I did not know the name of your ancestor, sir," concluded Señor Olivares with a polite bow to Lauderdale, "I was unable to trace it until the event of last night brought it before the public."
"What became of the young lady, señor, who gave the stick away?" asked Mr. Hasleton. "I am curious to know."
"Sir," replied the Spaniard, "she was stabbed to the heart by a disappointed lover! And now, ​sir," he added to Inspector Dwayne, "I trust that I have proved my claim, and that I may be permitted to resume possession of my family's property."
Inspector Dwayne stared blankly at Señor Olivares and then laughed.
"Oh, dear me, no!" he said. "You can't expect that, sir. That stick is under safe lock and key and will be wanted at—at the trial, if there is a trial," he added.
"May I, then, be permitted to look upon so historic a relic?" asked Señor Olivares. "You will understand my feelings?"
The Inspector saw no reason to object to that and, unlocking the cupboard, he once more produced the sword-stick and permitted the Spaniard to handle it. Señor Olivares did so with great reverence, and then departed with many formal bows.
"Ánd now, gentlemen," the Inspector said, "we must really get to business. Mr. Hasleton, I want you to take me to see this man, Aaron Abrahams. And you, Lieutenant, must come with us. I'm afraid I can't let you run off just yet."