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diff --git a/old/mston10.txt b/old/mston10.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b6a0582..0000000 --- a/old/mston10.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,22502 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Moonstone, by Wilkie Collins - -Please take a look at the important information in this header. -We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an -electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* - -Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and -further information is included below. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* - - - - - - THE MOONSTONE - A Romance - by - Wilkie Collins - - - - - - PROLOGUE - - THE STORMING OF SERINGAPATAM (1799) - - - Extracted from a Family Paper - - -I address these lines--written in India--to my relatives in England. - -My object is to explain the motive which has induced me to refuse -the right hand of friendship to my cousin, John Herncastle. -The reserve which I have hitherto maintained in this matter has been -misinterpreted by members of my family whose good opinion I cannot -consent to forfeit. I request them to suspend their decision until -they have read my narrative. And I declare, on my word of honour, -that what I am now about to write is, strictly and literally, -the truth. - -The private difference between my cousin and me took its rise -in a great public event in which we were both concerned-- -the storming of Seringapatam, under General Baird, on the 4th -of May, 1799. - -In order that the circumstances may be clearly understood, -I must revert for a moment to the period before the assault, -and to the stories current in our camp of the treasure in jewels -and gold stored up in the Palace of Seringapatam. - - - -II - - -One of the wildest of these stories related to a Yellow Diamond-- -a famous gem in the native annals of India. - -The earliest known traditions describe the stone as having been set -in the forehead of the four-handed Indian god who typifies the Moon. -Partly from its peculiar colour, partly from a superstition which -represented it as feeling the influence of the deity whom it adorned, -and growing and lessening in lustre with the waxing and waning -of the moon, it first gained the name by which it continues -to be known in India to this day--the name of THE MOONSTONE. -A similar superstition was once prevalent, as I have heard, -in ancient Greece and Rome; not applying, however (as in India), -to a diamond devoted to the service of a god, but to a semi-transparent -stone of the inferior order of gems, supposed to be affected -by the lunar influences--the moon, in this latter case also, -giving the name by which the stone is still known to collectors in our -own time. - -The adventures of the Yellow Diamond begin with the eleventh -century of the Christian era. - -At that date, the Mohammedan conqueror, Mahmoud of Ghizni, crossed India; -seized on the holy city of Somnauth; and stripped of its treasures the -famous temple, which had stood for centuries--the shrine of Hindoo pilgrimage, -and the wonder of the Eastern world. - -Of all the deities worshipped in the temple, the moon-god alone escaped -the rapacity of the conquering Mohammedans. Preserved by three Brahmins, -the inviolate deity, bearing the Yellow Diamond in its forehead, was removed -by night, and was transported to the second of the sacred cities of India-- -the city of Benares. - -Here, in a new shrine--in a hall inlaid with precious stones, -under a roof supported by pillars of gold--the moon-god was set up -and worshipped. Here, on the night when the shrine was completed, -Vishnu the Preserver appeared to the three Brahmins in a dream. - -The deity breathed the breath of his divinity on the Diamond in the forehead -of the god. And the Brahmins knelt and hid their faces in their robes. -The deity commanded that the Moonstone should be watched, from that -time forth, by three priests in turn, night and day, to the end of the -generations of men. And the Brahmins heard, and bowed before his will. -The deity predicted certain disaster to the presumptuous mortal who laid -hands on the sacred gem, and to all of his house and name who received -it after him. And the Brahmins caused the prophecy to be written over -the gates of the shrine in letters of gold. - -One age followed another--and still, generation after generation, -the successors of the three Brahmins watched their priceless Moonstone, -night and day. One age followed another until the first years -of the eighteenth Christian century saw the reign of Aurungzebe, -Emperor of the Moguls. At his command havoc and rapine were let -loose once more among the temples of the worship of Brahmah. -The shrine of the four-handed god was polluted by the slaughter -of sacred animals; the images of the deities were broken in pieces; -and the Moonstone was seized by an officer of rank in the army -of Aurungzebe. - -Powerless to recover their lost treasure by open force, -the three guardian priests followed and watched it in disguise. -The generations succeeded each other; the warrior who had -committed the sacrilege perished miserably; the Moonstone passed -(carrying its curse with it) from one lawless Mohammedan -hand to another; and still, through all chances and changes, -the successors of the three guardian priests kept their watch, -waiting the day when the will of Vishnu the Preserver should -restore to them their sacred gem. Time rolled on from the first -to the last years of the eighteenth Christian century. The Diamond -fell into the possession of Tippoo, Sultan of Seringapatam, -who caused it to be placed as an ornament in the handle of a dagger, -and who commanded it to be kept among the choicest treasures -of his armoury. Even then--in the palace of the Sultan himself-- -the three guardian priests still kept their watch in secret. -There were three officers of Tippoo's household, -strangers to the rest, who had won their master's confidence -by conforming, or appearing to conform, to the Mussulman faith; -and to those three men report pointed as the three priests -in disguise. - - - -III - - -So, as told in our camp, ran the fanciful story of the Moonstone. -It made no serious impression on any of us except my cousin-- -whose love of the marvellous induced him to believe it. -On the night before the assault on Seringapatam, he was absurdly -angry with me, and with others, for treating the whole thing -as a fable. A foolish wrangle followed; and Herncastle's -unlucky temper got the better of him. He declared, in his -boastful way, that we should see the Diamond on his finger, -if the English army took Seringapatam. The sally was saluted -by a roar of laughter, and there, as we all thought that night, -the thing ended. - -Let me now take you on to the day of the assault. My cousin and I -were separated at the outset. I never saw him when we forded the river; -when we planted the English flag in the first breach; when we crossed -the ditch beyond; and, fighting every inch of our way, entered the town. -It was only at dusk, when the place was ours, and after General Baird -himself had found the dead body of Tippoo under a heap of the slain, -that Herncastle and I met. - -We were each attached to a party sent out by the general's orders -to prevent the plunder and confusion which followed our conquest. -The camp-followers committed deplorable excesses; and, worse still, -the soldiers found their way, by a guarded door, into the treasury -of the Palace, and loaded themselves with gold and jewels. -It was in the court outside the treasury that my cousin and I met, -to enforce the laws of discipline on our own soldiers. Herncastle's fiery -temper had been, as I could plainly see, exasperated to a kind -of frenzy by the terrible slaughter through which we had passed. -He was very unfit, in my opinion, to perform the duty that had been -entrusted to him. - -There was riot and confusion enough in the treasury, but no -violence that I saw. The men (if I may use such an expression) -disgraced themselves good-humouredly. All sorts of rough -jests and catchwords were bandied about among them; -and the story of the Diamond turned up again unexpectedly, -in the form of a mischievous joke. "Who's got the Moonstone?" -was the rallying cry which perpetually caused the plundering, -as soon as it was stopped in one place, to break out in another. -While I was still vainly trying to establish order, I heard -a frightful yelling on the other side of the courtyard, and at -once ran towards the cries, in dread of finding some new outbreak -of the pillage in that direction. - -I got to an open door, and saw the bodies of two Indians -(by their dress, as I guessed, officers of the palace) -lying across the entrance, dead. - -A cry inside hurried me into a room, which appeared to serve as an armoury. -A third Indian, mortally wounded, was sinking at the feet of a man whose back -was towards me. The man turned at the instant when I came in, and I saw -John Herncastle, with a torch in one hand, and a dagger dripping with blood -in the other. A stone, set like a pommel, in the end of the dagger's handle, -flashed in the torchlight, as he turned on me, like a gleam of fire. -The dying Indian sank to his knees, pointed to the dagger in Herncastle's -hand, and said, in his native language--"The Moonstone will have its vengeance -yet on you and yours!" He spoke those words, and fell dead on the floor. - -Before I could stir in the matter, the men who had followed me across -the courtyard crowded in. My cousin rushed to meet them, like a madman. -"Clear the room!" he shouted to me, "and set a guard on the door!" -The men fell back as he threw himself on them with his torch and his dagger. -I put two sentinels of my own company, on whom I could rely, to keep -the door. Through the remainder of the night, I saw no more of -my cousin. - -Early in the morning, the plunder still going on, General Baird announced -publicly by beat of drum, that any thief detected in the fact, be he whom -he might, should be hung. The provost-marshal was in attendance, -to prove that the General was in earnest; and in the throng that followed -the proclamation, Herncastle and I met again. - -He held out his hand, as usual, and said, "Good morning. - -I waited before I gave him my hand in return. - -"Tell me first," I said, "how the Indian in the armoury met his death, -and what those last words meant, when he pointed to the dagger in your hand." - -"The Indian met his death, as I suppose, by a mortal wound," -said Herncastle. "What his last words meant I know no more than -you do." - -I looked at him narrowly. His frenzy of the previous day -had all calmed down. I determined to give him another chance. - -"Is that all you have to tell me?" I asked. - -He answered, "That is all." - -I turned my back on him; and we have not spoken since. - - - -IV - - -I beg it to be understood that what I write here about my cousin -(unless some necessity should arise for making it public) -is for the information of the family only. Herncastle has said -nothing that can justify me in speaking to our commanding officer. -He has been taunted more than once about the Diamond, by those who -recollect his angry outbreak before the assault; but, as may easily -be imagined, his own remembrance of the circumstances under which I -surprised him in the armoury has been enough to keep him silent. -It is reported that he means to exchange into another regiment, -avowedly for the purpose of separating himself from ME. - -Whether this be true or not, I cannot prevail upon myself to become -his accuser--and I think with good reason. If I made the matter public, -I have no evidence but moral evidence to bring forward. -I have not only no proof that he killed the two men at the door; -I cannot even declare that he killed the third man inside-- -for I cannot say that my own eyes saw the deed committed. -It is true that I heard the dying Indian's words; but if those -words were pronounced to be the ravings of delirium, how could I -contradict the assertion from my own knowledge? Let our relatives, -on either side, form their own opinion on what I have written, -and decide for themselves whether the aversion I now feel towards -this man is well or ill founded. - -Although I attach no sort of credit to the fantastic Indian legend -of the gem, I must acknowledge, before I conclude, that I am influenced -by a certain superstition of my own in this matter. It is my conviction, -or my delusion, no matter which, that crime brings its own fatality with it. -I am not only persuaded of Herncastle's guilt; I am even fanciful enough -to believe that he will live to regret it, if he keeps the Diamond; -and that others will live to regret taking it from him, if he gives the -Diamond away. - - - - THE STORY - - FIRST PERIOD - - THE LOSS OF THE DIAMOND (1848) - - - -The events related by GABRIEL BETTEREDGE, house-steward - in the service of JULIA, LADY VERINDER - - - -CHAPTER I - - -In the first part of ROBINSON CRUSOE, at page one hundred and twenty-nine, -you will find it thus written: - -"Now I saw, though too late, the Folly of beginning a Work before we -count the Cost, and before we judge rightly of our own Strength to go -through with it." - -Only yesterday, I opened my ROBINSON CRUSOE at that place. -Only this morning (May twenty-first, Eighteen hundred and fifty), -came my lady's nephew, Mr. Franklin Blake, and held a short -conversation with me, as follows:-- - -"Betteredge," says Mr. Franklin, "I have been to the lawyer's about some -family matters; and, among other things, we have been talking of the loss -of the Indian Diamond, in my aunt's house in Yorkshire, two years since. -Mr. Bruff thinks as I think, that the whole story ought, in the interests -of truth, to be placed on record in writing--and the sooner the better." - -Not perceiving his drift yet, and thinking it always desirable for the sake -of peace and quietness to be on the lawyer's side, I said I thought so too. -Mr. Franklin went on. - -"In this matter of the Diamond," he said, "the characters of innocent -people have suffered under suspicion already--as you know. -The memories of innocent people may suffer, hereafter, for want -of a record of the facts to which those who come after us can appeal. -There can be no doubt that this strange family story of ours ought -to be told. And I think, Betteredge, Mr. Bruff and I together have hit -on the right way of telling it." - -Very satisfactory to both of them, no doubt. But I failed to see -what I myself had to do with it, so far. - -"We have certain events to relate," Mr. Franklin proceeded; -"and we have certain persons concerned in those events who are -capable of relating them. Starting from these plain facts, the idea -is that we should all write the story of the Moonstone in turn-- -as far as our own personal experience extends, and no farther. -We must begin by showing how the Diamond first fell into the hands -of my uncle Herncastle, when he was serving in India fifty years since. -This prefatory narrative I have already got by me in the form of an old -family paper, which relates the necessary particulars on the authority -of an eye-witness. The next thing to do is to tell how the Diamond -found its way into my aunt's house in Yorkshire, two years ago, -and how it came to be lost in little more than twelve hours afterwards. -Nobody knows as much as you do, Betteredge, about what went on in -the house at that time. So you must take the pen in hand, and start -the story." - -In those terms I was informed of what my personal concern was -with the matter of the Diamond. If you are curious to know -what course I took under the circumstances, I beg to inform -you that I did what you would probably have done in my place. -I modestly declared myself to be quite unequal to the task -imposed upon me--and I privately felt, all the time, -that I was quite clever enough to perform it, if I only gave -my own abilities a fair chance. Mr. Franklin, I imagine, -must have seen my private sentiments in my face. He declined -to believe in my modesty; and he insisted on giving my abilities -a fair chance. - -Two hours have passed since Mr. Franklin left me. As soon as his -back was turned, I went to my writing desk to start the story. -There I have sat helpless (in spite of my abilities) ever since; -seeing what Robinson Crusoe saw, as quoted above--namely, the folly -of beginning a work before we count the cost, and before we judge -rightly of our own strength to go through with it. Please to remember, -I opened the book by accident, at that bit, only the day before I -rashly undertook the business now in hand; and, allow me to ask-- -if THAT isn't prophecy, what is? - -I am not superstitious; I have read a heap of books in my time; -I am a scholar in my own way. Though turned seventy, I possess -an active memory, and legs to correspond. You are not to take it, -if you please, as the saying of an ignorant man, when I express -my opinion that such a book as ROBINSON CRUSOE never was written, -and never will be written again. I have tried that book for years-- -generally in combination with a pipe of tobacco--and I have found -it my friend in need in all the necessities of this mortal life. -When my spirits are bad--ROBINSON CRUSOE. When I want advice-- -ROBINSON CRUSOE. In past times when my wife plagued me; -in present times when I have had a drop too much--ROBINSON CRUSOE. -I have worn out six stout ROBINSON CRUSOES with hard work in my service. -On my lady's last birthday she gave me a seventh. I took a drop too -much on the strength of it; and ROBINSON CRUSOE put me right again. -Price four shillings and sixpence, bound in blue, with a picture into -the bargain. - -Still, this don't look much like starting the story of the Diamond--does it? -I seem to be wandering off in search of Lord knows what, Lord knows where. -We will take a new sheet of paper, if you please, and begin over again, -with my best respects to you. - - - -CHAPTER II - - -I spoke of my lady a line or two back. Now the Diamond could never have -been in our house, where it was lost, if it had not been made a present -of to my lady's daughter; and my lady's daughter would never have been -in existence to have the present, if it had not been for my lady who -(with pain and travail) produced her into the world. Consequently, if we -begin with my lady, we are pretty sure of beginning far enough back. -And that, let me tell you, when you have got such a job as mine in hand, -is a real comfort at starting. - -If you know anything of the fashionable world, you have -heard tell of the three beautiful Miss Herncastles. -Miss Adelaide; Miss Caroline; and Miss Julia--this last being -the youngest and the best of the three sisters, in my opinion; -and I had opportunities of judging, as you shall presently see. -I went into the service of the old lord, their father -(thank God, we have got nothing to do with him, in this business -of the Diamond; he had the longest tongue and the shortest -temper of any man, high or low, I ever met with)--I say, -I went into the service of the old lord, as page-boy in waiting -on the three honourable young ladies, at the age of fifteen years. -There I lived till Miss Julia married the late Sir John Verinder. -An excellent man, who only wanted somebody to manage him; -and, between ourselves, he found somebody to do it; -and what is more, he throve on it and grew fat on it, -and lived happy and died easy on it, dating from the day -when my lady took him to church to be married, to the day -when she relieved him of his last breath, and closed his eyes -for ever. - -I have omitted to state that I went with the bride to the -bride's husband's house and lands down here. "Sir John," -she says, "I can't do without Gabriel Betteredge." "My lady," -says Sir John, "I can't do without him, either." That was -his way with her--and that was how I went into his service. -It was all one to me where I went, so long as my mistress and I -were together. - -Seeing that my lady took an interest in the out-of-door work, -and the farms, and such like, I took an interest in them too-- -with all the more reason that I was a small farmer's seventh -son myself. My lady got me put under the bailiff, and I did -my best, and gave satisfaction, and got promotion accordingly. -Some years later, on the Monday as it might be, -my lady says, "Sir John, your bailiff is a stupid old man. -Pension him liberally, and let Gabriel Betteredge have his place." -On the Tuesday as it might be, Sir John says, "My lady, -the bailiff is pensioned liberally; and Gabriel Betteredge has -got his place." You hear more than enough of married people -living together miserably. Here is an example to the contrary. -Let it be a warning to some of you, and an encouragement to others. -In the meantime, I will go on with my story. - -Well, there I was in clover, you will say. Placed in a position -of trust and honour, with a little cottage of my own to live in, -with my rounds on the estate to occupy me in the morning, -and my accounts in the afternoon, and my pipe and my ROBINSON CRUSOE -in the evening--what more could I possibly want to make me happy? -Remember what Adam wanted when he was alone in the Garden of Eden; -and if you don't blame it in Adam, don't blame it in me. - -The woman I fixed my eye on, was the woman who kept -house for me at my cottage. Her name was Selina Goby. -I agree with the late William Cobbett about picking a wife. -See that she chews her food well and sets her foot down -firmly on the ground when she walks, and you're all right. -Selina Goby was all right in both these respects, which was -one reason for marrying her. I had another reason, likewise, -entirely of my own discovering. Selina, being a single woman, -made me pay so much a week for her board and services. -Selina, being my wife, couldn't charge for her board, and would -have to give me her services for nothing. That was the point -of view I looked at it from. Economy--with a dash of love. -I put it to my mistress, as in duty bound, just as I had put it -to myself. - -"I have been turning Selina Goby over in my mind," I said, -"and I think, my lady, it will be cheaper to marry her than -to keep her." - -My lady burst out laughing, and said she didn't know -which to be most shocked at--my language or my principles. -Some joke tickled her, I suppose, of the sort that you can't -take unless you are a person of quality. Understanding nothing -myself but that I was free to put it next to Selina, -I went and put it accordingly. And what did Selina say? -Lord! how little you must know of women, if you ask that. -Of course she said, Yes. - -As my time drew nearer, and there got to be talk of my having -a new coat for the ceremony, my mind began to misgive me. -I have compared notes with other men as to what they -felt while they were in my interesting situation; -and they have all acknowledged that, about a week before -it happened, they privately wished themselves out of it. -I went a trifle further than that myself; I actually rose up, -as it were, and tried to get out of it. Not for nothing! -I was too just a man to expect she would let me off for nothing. -Compensation to the woman when the man gets out of it, -is one of the laws of England. In obedience to the laws, -and after turning it over carefully in my mind, I offered Selina -Goby a feather-bed and fifty shillings to be off the bargain. -You will hardly believe it, but it is nevertheless true--she was -fool enough to refuse. - -After that it was all over with me, of course. I got the new coat as cheap -as I could, and I went through all the rest of it as cheap as I could. -We were not a happy couple, and not a miserable couple. We were six of one -and half-a-dozen of the other. How it was I don't understand, but we always -seemed to be getting, with the best of motives, in one another's way. -When I wanted to go up-stairs, there was my wife coming down; or when my wife -wanted to go down, there was I coming up. That is married life, according to -my experience of it. - -After five years of misunderstandings on the stairs, it pleased -an all-wise Providence to relieve us of each other by taking my wife. -I was left with my little girl Penelope, and with no other child. -Shortly afterwards Sir John died, and my lady was left with her -little girl, Miss Rachel, and no other child. I have written -to very poor purpose of my lady, if you require to be told that my -little Penelope was taken care of, under my good mistress's own eye, -and was sent to school and taught, and made a sharp girl, and promoted, -when old enough, to be Miss Rachel's own maid. - -As for me, I went on with my business as bailiff year after year up -to Christmas 1847, when there came a change in my life. On that day, -my lady invited herself to a cup of tea alone with me in my cottage. -She remarked that, reckoning from the year when I started as page-boy in -the time of the old lord, I had been more than fifty years in her service, -and she put into my hands a beautiful waistcoat of wool that she had -worked herself, to keep me warm in the bitter winter weather. - -I received this magnificent present quite at a loss to find words to thank -my mistress with for the honour she had done me. To my great astonishment, -it turned out, however, that the waistcoat was not an honour, but a bribe. -My lady had discovered that I was getting old before I had discovered -it myself, and she had come to my cottage to wheedle me (if I may use -such an expression) into giving up my hard out-of-door work as bailiff, -and taking my ease for the rest of my days as steward in the house. I made -as good a fight of it against the indignity of taking my ease as I could. -But my mistress knew the weak side of me; she put it as a favour to herself. -The dispute between us ended, after that, in my wiping my eyes, -like an old fool, with my new woollen waistcoat, and saying I would think -about it. - -The perturbation in my mind, in regard to thinking about it, being truly -dreadful after my lady had gone away, I applied the remedy which I -have never yet found to fail me in cases of doubt and emergency. -I smoked a pipe and took a turn at ROBINSON CRUSOE. Before I had -occupied myself with that extraordinary book five minutes, I came -on a comforting bit (page one hundred and fifty-eight), as follows: -"To-day we love, what to-morrow we hate." I saw my way clear directly. -To-day I was all for continuing to be farm-bailiff; to-morrow, on -the authority of ROBINSON CRUSOE, I should be all the other way. -Take myself to-morrow while in to-morrow's humour, and the thing -was done. My mind being relieved in this manner, I went to sleep -that night in the character of Lady Verinder's farm bailiff, -and I woke up the next morning in the character of Lady -Verinder's house-steward. All quite comfortable, and all through -ROBINSON CRUSOE! - -My daughter Penelope has just looked over my shoulder to see what I -have done so far. She remarks that it is beautifully written, -and every word of it true. But she points out one objection. -She says what I have done so far isn't in the least what I was -wanted to do. I am asked to tell the story of the Diamond and, -instead of that, I have been telling the story of my own self. -Curious, and quite beyond me to account for. I wonder whether -the gentlemen who make a business and a living out of writing books, -ever find their own selves getting in the way of their subjects, -like me? If they do, I can feel for them. In the meantime, -here is another false start, and more waste of good writing-paper. -What's to be done now? Nothing that I know of, except for you -to keep your temper, and for me to begin it all over again for the -third time. - - - -CHAPTER III - - -The question of how I am to start the story properly I have -tried to settle in two ways. First, by scratching my head, -which led to nothing. Second, by consulting my daughter Penelope, -which has resulted in an entirely new idea. - -Penelope's notion is that I should set down what happened, -regularly day by day, beginning with the day when we got the news -that Mr. Franklin Blake was expected on a visit to the house. -When you come to fix your memory with a date in this way, it is -wonderful what your memory will pick up for you upon that compulsion. -The only difficulty is to fetch out the dates, in the first place. -This Penelope offers to do for me by looking into her own diary, -which she was taught to keep when she was at school, and which she has -gone on keeping ever since. In answer to an improvement on this notion, -devised by myself, namely, that she should tell the story instead -of me, out of her own diary, Penelope observes, with a fierce -look and a red face, that her journal is for her own private eye, -and that no living creature shall ever know what is in it but herself. -When I inquire what this means, Penelope says, "Fiddlesticks!" -I say, Sweethearts. - -Beginning, then, on Penelope's plan, I beg to mention that I -was specially called one Wednesday morning into my lady's -own sitting-room, the date being the twenty-fourth of May, -Eighteen hundred and forty-eight. - -"Gabriel," says my lady, "here is news that will surprise you. -Franklin Blake has come back from abroad. He has been staying -with his father in London, and he is coming to us to-morrow -to stop till next month, and keep Rachel's birthday." - -If I had had a hat in my hand, nothing but respect would have prevented me -from throwing that hat up to the ceiling. I had not seen Mr. Franklin since -he was a boy, living along with us in this house. He was, out of all sight -(as I remember him), the nicest boy that ever spun a top or broke a window. -Miss Rachel, who was present, and to whom I made that remark, observed, -in return, that SHE remembered him as the most atrocious tyrant that ever -tortured a doll, and the hardest driver of an exhausted little girl -in string harness that England could produce. "I burn with indignation, -and I ache with fatigue," was the way Miss Rachel summed it up, "when I think -of Franklin Blake." - -Hearing what I now tell you, you will naturally ask how it -was that Mr. Franklin should have passed all the years, -from the time when he was a boy to the time when he was a man, -out of his own country. I answer, because his father had -the misfortune to be next heir to a Dukedom, and not to be able -to prove it. - -In two words, this was how the thing happened: - -My lady's eldest sister married the celebrated Mr. Blake-- -equally famous for his great riches, and his great suit at law. -How many years he went on worrying the tribunals of his -country to turn out the Duke in possession, and to put himself -in the Duke's place--how many lawyer's purses he filled -to bursting, and how many otherwise harmless people he set -by the ears together disputing whether he was right or wrong-- -is more by a great deal than I can reckon up. His wife died, -and two of his three children died, before the tribunals could make -up their minds to show him the door and take no more of his money. -When it was all over, and the Duke in possession was left -in possession, Mr. Blake discovered that the only way of being -even with his country for the manner in which it had treated him, -was not to let his country have the honour of educating his son. -"How can I trust my native institutions," was the form in which -he put it, "after the way in which my native institutions have -behaved to ME?" Add to this, that Mr. Blake disliked all boys, -his own included, and you will admit that it could only end -in one way. Master Franklin was taken from us in England, -and was sent to institutions which his father COULD trust, -in that superior country, Germany; Mr. Blake himself, -you will observe, remaining snug in England, to improve his -fellow-countrymen in the Parliament House, and to publish -a statement on the subject of the Duke in possession, -which has remained an unfinished statement from that day -to this. - -There! thank God, that's told! Neither you nor I need trouble our -heads any more about Mr. Blake, senior. Leave him to the Dukedom; -and let you and I stick to the Diamond. - -The Diamond takes us back to Mr. Franklin, who was the innocent means -of bringing that unlucky jewel into the house. - -Our nice boy didn't forget us after he went abroad. He wrote every -now and then; sometimes to my lady, sometimes to Miss Rachel, -and sometimes to me. We had had a transaction together, -before he left, which consisted in his borrowing of me a ball -of string, a four-bladed knife, and seven-and-sixpence in money-- -the colour of which last I have not seen, and never expect to -see again. His letters to me chiefly related to borrowing more. -I heard, however, from my lady, how he got on abroad, as he grew -in years and stature. After he had learnt what the institutions -of Germany could teach him, he gave the French a turn next, -and the Italians a turn after that. They made him among them -a sort of universal genius, as well as I could understand it. -He wrote a little; he painted a little; he sang and played and -composed a little--borrowing, as I suspect, in all these cases, -just as he had borrowed from me. His mother's fortune -(seven hundred a year) fell to him when he came of age, -and ran through him, as it might be through a sieve. -The more money he had, the more he wanted; there was a hole -in Mr. Franklin's pocket that nothing would sew up. -Wherever he went, the lively, easy way of him made him welcome. -He lived here, there, and everywhere; his address (as he used -to put it himself) being "Post Office, Europe--to be left till -called for." Twice over, he made up his mind to come back -to England and see us; and twice over (saving your presence), -some unmentionable woman stood in the way and stopped him. -His third attempt succeeded, as you know already from -what my lady told me. On Thursday the twenty-fifth of May, -we were to see for the first time what our nice boy had grown -to be as a man. He came of good blood; he had a high courage; -and he was five-and-twenty years of age, by our reckoning. -Now you know as much of Mr. Franklin Blake as I did-- -before Mr. Franklin Blake came down to our house. - - - -The Thursday was as fine a summer's day as ever you saw: -and my lady and Miss Rachel (not expecting Mr. Franklin -till dinner-time) drove out to lunch with some friends in -the neighbourhood. - -When they were gone, I went and had a look at the bedroom which -had been got ready for our guest, and saw that all was straight. -Then, being butler in my lady's establishment, as well as steward -(at my own particular request, mind, and because it vexed me -to see anybody but myself in possession of the key of the late -Sir John's cellar)--then, I say, I fetched up some of our famous -Latour claret, and set it in the warm summer air to take off the chill -before dinner. Concluding to set myself in the warm summer air next-- -seeing that what is good for old claret is equally good for old age-- -I took up my beehive chair to go out into the back court, when I -was stopped by hearing a sound like the soft beating of a drum, -on the terrace in front of my lady's residence. - -Going round to the terrace, I found three mahogany-coloured Indians, -in white linen frocks and trousers, looking up at the house. - -The Indians, as I saw on looking closer, had small hand-drums slung in front -of them. Behind them stood a little delicate-looking light-haired English -boy carrying a bag. I judged the fellows to be strolling conjurors, -and the boy with the bag to be carrying the tools of their trade. -One of the three, who spoke English and who exhibited, I must own, -the most elegant manners, presently informed me that my judgment was right. -He requested permission to show his tricks in the presence of the lady of -the house. - -Now I am not a sour old man. I am generally all for amusement, -and the last person in the world to distrust another person -because he happens to be a few shades darker than myself. -But the best of us have our weaknesses--and my weakness, -when I know a family plate-basket to be out on a pantry-table, -is to be instantly reminded of that basket by the sight -of a strolling stranger whose manners are superior to my own. -I accordingly informed the Indian that the lady of the house -was out; and I warned him and his party off the premises. -He made me a beautiful bow in return; and he and his party went -off the premises. On my side, I returned to my beehive chair, -and set myself down on the sunny side of the court, and fell -(if the truth must be owned), not exactly into a sleep, but into -the next best thing to it. - -I was roused up by my daughter Penelope running out at me -as if the house was on fire. What do you think she wanted? -She wanted to have the three Indian jugglers instantly taken up; -for this reason, namely, that they knew who was coming from -London to visit us, and that they meant some mischief to -Mr. Franklin Blake. - -Mr. Franklin's name roused me. I opened my eyes, and made my girl -explain herself. - -It appeared that Penelope had just come from our lodge, where she -had been having a gossip with the lodge-keeper's daughter. -The two girls had seen the Indians pass out, after I had -warned them off, followed by their little boy. Taking it -into their heads that the boy was ill-used by the foreigners-- -for no reason that I could discover, except that he was -pretty and delicate-looking--the two girls had stolen along -the inner side of the hedge between us and the road, and had -watched the proceedings of the foreigners on the outer side. -Those proceedings resulted in the performance of the following -extraordinary tricks. - -They first looked up the road, and down the road, and made -sure that they were alone. Then they all three faced about, -and stared hard in the direction of our house. Then they -jabbered and disputed in their own language, and looked at -each other like men in doubt. Then they all turned to their -little English boy, as if they expected HIM to help them. -And then the chief Indian, who spoke English, said to the boy, -"Hold out your hand." - -On hearing those dreadful words, my daughter Penelope said she didn't -know what prevented her heart from flying straight out of her. -I thought privately that it might have been her stays. -All I said, however, was, "You make my flesh creep." (NOTA BENE: -Women like these little compliments.) - -Well, when the Indian said, "Hold out your hand," the boy -shrunk back, and shook his head, and said he didn't like it. -The Indian, thereupon, asked him (not at all unkindly), whether -he would like to be sent back to London, and left where they -had found him, sleeping in an empty basket in a market-- -a hungry, ragged, and forsaken little boy. This, it seems, -ended the difficulty. The little chap unwillingly held out his hand. -Upon that, the Indian took a bottle from his bosom, and poured out -of it some black stuff, like ink, into the palm of the boy's hand. -The Indian--first touching the boy's head, and making signs over -it in the air--then said, "Look." The boy became quite stiff, -and stood like a statue, looking into the ink in the hollow of -his hand. - -(So far, it seemed to me to be juggling, accompanied by a foolish -waste of ink. I was beginning to feel sleepy again, when Penelope's -next words stirred me up.) - -The Indians looked up the road and down the road once more-- -and then the chief Indian said these words to the boy; -"See the English gentleman from foreign parts." - -The boy said, "I see him." - -The Indian said, "Is it on the road to this house, and on no other, -that the English gentleman will travel to-day?" - -The boy said, "It is on the road to this house, and on no other, -that the English gentleman will travel to-day." The Indian put -a second question--after waiting a little first. He said: -"Has the English gentleman got It about him?" - -The boy answered--also, after waiting a little first--"Yes." - -The Indian put a third and last question: "Will the English gentleman -come here, as he has promised to come, at the close of day?" - -The boy said, "I can't tell." - -The Indian asked why. - -The boy said, "I am tired. The mist rises in my head, and puzzles me. -I can see no more to-day." - -With that the catechism ended. The chief Indian said something in his -own language to the other two, pointing to the boy, and pointing towards -the town, in which (as we afterwards discovered) they were lodged. -He then, after making more signs on the boy's head, blew on his forehead, -and so woke him up with a start. After that, they all went on their way -towards the town, and the girls saw them no more. - -Most things they say have a moral, if you only look for it. -What was the moral of this? - -The moral was, as I thought: First, that the chief juggler had heard -Mr. Franklin's arrival talked of among the servants out-of-doors, and saw -his way to making a little money by it. Second, that he and his men and boy -(with a view to making the said money) meant to hang about till they saw my -lady drive home, and then to come back, and foretell Mr. Franklin's arrival -by magic. Third, that Penelope had heard them rehearsing their hocus-pocus, -like actors rehearsing a play. Fourth, that I should do well to have an eye, -that evening, on the plate-basket. Fifth, that Penelope would do well to -cool down, and leave me, her father, to doze off again in the sun. - -That appeared to me to be the sensible view. If you know anything of the ways -of young women, you won't be surprised to hear that Penelope wouldn't -take it. The moral of the thing was serious, according to my daughter. -She particularly reminded me of the Indian's third question, Has the English -gentleman got It about him? "Oh, father!" says Penelope, clasping her hands, -"don't joke about this. What does 'It' mean?" - -"We'll ask Mr. Franklin, my dear," I said, "if you can wait till -Mr. Franklin comes. I winked to show I meant that in joke. -Penelope took it quite seriously. My girl's earnestness tickled me. -"What on earth should Mr. Franklin know about it?" I inquired. -"Ask him," says Penelope. "And see whether HE thinks it -a laughing matter, too." With that parting shot, my daughter -left me. - -I settled it with myself, when she was gone, that I really -would ask Mr. Franklin--mainly to set Penelope's mind at rest. -What was said between us, when I did ask him, later on that same day, -you will find set out fully in its proper place. But as I -don't wish to raise your expectations and then disappoint them, -I will take leave to warn you here--before we go any further-- -that you won't find the ghost of a joke in our conversation on -the subject of the jugglers. To my great surprise, Mr. Franklin, -like Penelope, took the thing seriously. How seriously, -you will understand, when I tell you that, in his opinion, -"It" meant the Moonstone. - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -I am truly sorry to detain you over me and my beehive chair. -A sleepy old man, in a sunny back yard, is not an interesting object, -I am well aware. But things must be put down in their places, -as things actually happened--and you must please to jog on a little -while longer with me, in expectation of Mr. Franklin Blake's arrival -later in the day. - -Before I had time to doze off again, after my daughter Penelope -had left me, I was disturbed by a rattling of plates and dishes -in the servants' hall, which meant that dinner was ready. -Taking my own meals in my own sitting-room, I had nothing to do -with the servants' dinner, except to wish them a good stomach to it -all round, previous to composing myself once more in my chair. -I was just stretching my legs, when out bounced another woman on me. -Not my daughter again; only Nancy, the kitchen-maid, this time. -I was straight in her way out; and I observed, as she asked -me to let her by, that she had a sulky face--a thing which, -as head of the servants, I never allow, on principle, to pass me -without inquiry. - -"What are you turning your back on your dinner for?" I asked. -"What's wrong now, Nancy?" - -Nancy tried to push by, without answering; upon which I rose up, -and took her by the ear. She is a nice plump young lass, -and it is customary with me to adopt that manner of showing -that I personally approve of a girl. - -"What's wrong now?" I said once more. - -"Rosanna's late again for dinner," says Nancy. "And I'm sent to fetch -her in. All the hard work falls on my shoulders in this house. -Let me alone, Mr. Betteredge!" - -The person here mentioned as Rosanna was our second housemaid. -Having a kind of pity for our second housemaid (why, you shall -presently know), and seeing in Nancy's face, that she would fetch -her fellow-servant in with more hard words than might be needful -under the circumstances, it struck me that I had nothing particular -to do, and that I might as well fetch Rosanna myself; giving her -a hint to be punctual in future, which I knew she would take kindly -from ME. - -"Where is Rosanna?" I inquired. - -"At the sands, of course!" says Nancy, with a toss of her head. -"She had another of her fainting fits this morning, and she asked -to go out and get a breath of fresh air. I have no patience -with her!" - -"Go back to your dinner, my girl," I said. "I have patience with her, -and I'll fetch her in." - -Nancy (who has a fine appetite) looked pleased. When she looks pleased, -she looks nice. When she looks nice, I chuck her under the chin. -It isn't immorality--it's only habit. - -Well, I took my stick, and set off for the sands. - -No! it won't do to set off yet. I am sorry again to detain you; -but you really must hear the story of the sands, and the story of Rosanna-- -for this reason, that the matter of the Diamond touches them both nearly. -How hard I try to get on with my statement without stopping by the way, -and how badly I succeed! But, there!--Persons and Things do turn up -so vexatiously in this life, and will in a manner insist on being noticed. -Let us take it easy, and let us take it short; we shall be in the thick of the -mystery soon, I promise you! - -Rosanna (to put the Person before the Thing, which is but -common politeness) was the only new servant in our house. -About four months before the time I am writing of, -my lady had been in London, and had gone over a Reformatory, -intended to save forlorn women from drifting back into bad ways, -after they had got released from prison. The matron, seeing my -lady took an interest in the place, pointed out a girl to her, -named Rosanna Spearman, and told her a most miserable story, -which I haven't the heart to repeat here; for I don't like -to be made wretched without any use, and no more do you. -The upshot of it was, that Rosanna Spearman had been a thief, -and not being of the sort that get up Companies in the City, -and rob from thousands, instead of only robbing from one, -the law laid hold of her, and the prison and the reformatory -followed the lead of the law. The matron's opinion of Rosanna was -(in spite of what she had done) that the girl was one -in a thousand, and that she only wanted a chance to prove -herself worthy of any Christian woman's interest in her. -My lady (being a Christian woman, if ever there was one yet) -said to the matron, upon that, "Rosanna Spearman shall -have her chance, in my service." In a week afterwards, -Rosanna Spearman entered this establishment as our second -housemaid. - -Not a soul was told the girl's story, excepting Miss Rachel and me. -My lady, doing me the honour to consult me about most things, -consulted me about Rosanna. Having fallen a good deal latterly into -the late Sir John's way of always agreeing with my lady, I agreed -with her heartily about Rosanna Spearman. - -A fairer chance no girl could have had than was given to this -poor girl of ours. None of the servants could cast her past life -in her teeth, for none of the servants knew what it had been. -She had her wages and her privileges, like the rest of them; -and every now and then a friendly word from my lady, in private, -to encourage her. In return, she showed herself, I am bound -to say, well worthy of the kind treatment bestowed upon her. -Though far from strong, and troubled occasionally with those -fainting-fits already mentioned, she went about her work -modestly and uncomplainingly, doing it carefully, and doing -it well. But, somehow, she failed to make friends among -the other women servants, excepting my daughter Penelope, -who was always kind to Rosanna, though never intimate -with her. - -I hardly know what the girl did to offend them. There was -certainly no beauty about her to make the others envious; -she was the plainest woman in the house, with the additional -misfortune of having one shoulder bigger than the other. -What the servants chiefly resented, I think, was her silent -tongue and her solitary ways. She read or worked in leisure -hours when the rest gossiped. And when it came to her turn -to go out, nine times out of ten she quietly put on her bonnet, -and had her turn by herself. She never quarrelled, -she never took offence; she only kept a certain distance, -obstinately and civilly, between the rest of them and herself. -Add to this that, plain as she was, there was just a dash -of something that wasn't like a housemaid, and that WAS -like a lady, about her. It might have been in her voice, -or it might have been in her face. All I can say is, -that the other women pounced on it like lightning the first -day she came into the house, and said (which was most unjust) -that Rosanna Spearman gave herself airs. - -Having now told the story of Rosanna, I have only to notice one of the many -queer ways of this strange girl to get on next to the story of the sands. - -Our house is high up on the Yorkshire coast, and close by the sea. -We have got beautiful walks all round us, in every direction but one. -That one I acknowledge to be a horrid walk. It leads, for a quarter -of a mile, through a melancholy plantation of firs, and brings you -out between low cliffs on the loneliest and ugliest little bay on all -our coast. - -The sand-hills here run down to the sea, and end in two spits of rock -jutting out opposite each other, till you lose sight of them in the water. -One is called the North Spit, and one the South. Between the two, -shifting backwards and forwards at certain seasons of the year, -lies the most horrible quicksand on the shores of Yorkshire. -At the turn of the tide, something goes on in the unknown deeps below, -which sets the whole face of the quicksand shivering and trembling -in a manner most remarkable to see, and which has given to it, -among the people in our parts, the name of the Shivering Sand. -A great bank, half a mile out, nigh the mouth of the bay, -breaks the force of the main ocean coming in from the offing. -Winter and summer, when the tide flows over the quicksand, -the sea seems to leave the waves behind it on the bank, and rolls -its waters in smoothly with a heave, and covers the sand in silence. -A lonesome and a horrid retreat, I can tell you! No boat ever -ventures into this bay. No children from our fishing-village, called -Cobb's Hole, ever come here to play. The very birds of the air, -as it seems to me, give the Shivering Sand a wide berth. -That a young woman, with dozens of nice walks to choose from, -and company to go with her, if she only said "Come!" should prefer -this place, and should sit and work or read in it, all alone, -when it's her turn out, I grant you, passes belief. It's true, -nevertheless, account for it as you may, that this was Rosanna Spearman's -favourite walk, except when she went once or twice to Cobb's Hole, -to see the only friend she had in our neighbourhood, of whom more anon. -It's also true that I was now setting out for this same place, -to fetch the girl in to dinner, which brings us round happily -to our former point, and starts us fair again on our way to the -sands. - -I saw no sign of the girl in the plantation. When I got out, -through the sand-hills, on to the beach, there she was, -in her little straw bonnet, and her plain grey cloak that she -always wore to hide her deformed shoulder as much as might be-- -there she was, all alone, looking out on the quicksand and -the sea. - -She started when I came up with her, and turned her head away from me. -Not looking me in the face being another of the proceedings, which, -as head of the servants, I never allow, on principle, to pass -without inquiry--I turned her round my way, and saw that she was crying. -My bandanna handkerchief--one of six beauties given to me by my lady-- -was handy in my pocket. I took it out, and I said to Rosanna, -"Come and sit down, my dear, on the slope of the beach along with me. -I'll dry your eyes for you first, and then I'll make so bold as to ask -what you have been crying about." - -When you come to my age, you will find sitting down on the slope of a beach -a much longer job than you think it now. By the time I was settled, -Rosanna had dried her own eyes with a very inferior handkerchief to mine-- -cheap cambric. She looked very quiet, and very wretched; but she sat -down by me like a good girl, when I told her. When you want to comfort -a woman by the shortest way, take her on your knee. I thought of this -golden rule. But there! Rosanna wasn't Nancy, and that's the truth -of it! - -"Now, tell me, my dear," I said, "what are you crying about?" - -"About the years that are gone, Mr. Betteredge," says Rosanna quietly. -"My past life still comes back to me sometimes." - -"Come, come, my girl, I said, "your past life is all sponged out. -Why can't you forget it?" - -She took me by one of the lappets of my coat. I am a slovenly old man, -and a good deal of my meat and drink gets splashed about on my clothes. -Sometimes one of the women, and sometimes another, cleans me of my grease. -The day before, Rosanna had taken out a spot for me on the lappet of my coat, -with a new composition, warranted to remove anything. The grease -was gone, but there was a little dull place left on the nap of the cloth -where the grease had been. The girl pointed to that place, and shook -her head. - -"The stain is taken off," she said. "But the place shows, Mr. Betteredge-- -the place shows!" - -A remark which takes a man unawares by means of his own coat -is not an easy remark to answer. Something in the girl -herself, too, made me particularly sorry for her just then. -She had nice brown eyes, plain as she was in other ways-- -and she looked at me with a sort of respect for my happy old age -and my good character, as things for ever out of her own reach, -which made my heart heavy for our second housemaid. Not feeling -myself able to comfort her, there was only one other thing to do. -That thing was--to take her in to dinner. - -"Help me up," I said. "You're late for dinner, Rosanna--and I -have come to fetch you in." - -"You, Mr. Betteredge!" says she. - -"They told Nancy to fetch you," I said. "But thought you -might like your scolding better, my dear, if it came from me." - -Instead of helping me up, the poor thing stole her hand into mine, and gave it -a little squeeze. She tried hard to keep from crying again, and succeeded-- -for which I respected her. "You're very kind, Mr. Betteredge," she said. -"I don't want any dinner to-day--let me bide a little longer here." - -"What makes you like to be here?" I asked. "What is it that brings -you everlastingly to this miserable place?" - -"Something draws me to it," says the girl, making images with her finger -in the sand. "I try to keep away from it, and I can't. Sometimes," -says she in a low voice, as if she was frightened at her own fancy, -"sometimes, Mr. Betteredge, I think that my grave is waiting for me here." - -"There's roast mutton and suet-pudding waiting for you!" -says I. "Go in to dinner directly. This is what comes, -Rosanna, of thinking on an empty stomach!" I spoke severely, -being naturally indignant (at my time of life) to hear a young -woman of five-and-twenty talking about her latter end! - -She didn't seem to hear me: she put her hand on my shoulder, -and kept me where I was, sitting by her side. - -"I think the place has laid a spell on me," she said. -"I dream of it night after night; I think of it when I sit -stitching at my work. You know I am grateful, Mr. Betteredge-- -you know I try to deserve your kindness, and my lady's confidence -in me. But I wonder sometimes whether the life here is too -quiet and too good for such a woman as I am, after all I have -gone through, Mr. Betteredge--after all I have gone through. -It's more lonely to me to be among the other servants, -knowing I am not what they are, than it is to he here. -My lady doesn't know, the matron at the reformatory doesn't know, -what a dreadful reproach honest people are in themselves -to a woman like me. Don't scold me, there's a dear good man. -I do my work, don't I? Please not to tell my lady I am discontented-- -I am not. My mind's unquiet, sometimes, that's all." -She snatched her hand off my shoulder, and suddenly pointed -down to the quicksand. "Look!" she said "Isn't it wonderful? -isn't it terrible? I have seen it dozens of times, -and it's always as new to me as if I had never seen -it before!" - -I looked where she pointed. The tide was on the turn, and the horrid -sand began to shiver. The broad brown face of it heaved slowly, -and then dimpled and quivered all over. "Do you know what it looks -like to ME?" says Rosanna, catching me by the shoulder again. -"It looks as if it had hundreds of suffocating people under it-- -all struggling to get to the surface, and all sinking lower and -lower in the dreadful deeps! Throw a stone in, Mr. Betteredge! -Throw a stone in, and let's see the sand suck it down!" - -Here was unwholesome talk! Here was an empty stomach -feeding on an unquiet mind! My answer--a pretty sharp one, -in the poor girl's own interests, I promise you!--was at -my tongue's end, when it was snapped short off on a sudden -by a voice among the sand-hills shouting for me by my name. -"Betteredge!" cries the voice, "where are you?" " Here!" -I shouted out in return, without a notion in my mind of who it was. -Rosanna started to her feet, and stood looking towards the voice. -I was just thinking of getting on my own legs next, when I was -staggered by a sudden change in the girl's face. - -Her complexion turned of a beautiful red, which I had never seen in it before; -she brightened all over with a kind of speechless and breathless surprise. -"Who is it?" I asked. Rosanna gave me back my own question. -"Oh! who is it?" she said softly, more to herself than to me. -I twisted round on the sand and looked behind me. There, coming out -on us from among the hills, was a bright-eyed young gentleman, -dressed in a beautiful fawn-coloured suit, with gloves and hat to match, -with a rose in his button-hole, and a smile on his face that might -have set the Shivering Sand itself smiling at him in return. Before I -could get on my legs, he plumped down on the sand by the side of me, -put his arm round my neck, foreign fashion, and gave me a hug that fairly -squeezed the breath out of my body. "Dear old Betteredge!" says he. -"I owe you seven-and-sixpence. Now do you know who I am?" - -Lord bless us and save us! Here--four good hours before we expected him-- -was Mr. Franklin Blake! - -Before I could say a word, I saw Mr. Franklin, a little -surprised to all appearance, look up from me to Rosanna. -Following his lead, I looked at the girl too. She was -blushing of a deeper red than ever, seemingly at having caught -Mr. Franklin's eye; and she turned and left us suddenly, -in a confusion quite unaccountable to my mind, without either -making her curtsey to the gentleman or saying a word to me. -Very unlike her usual self: a civiller and better-behaved servant, -in general, you never met with. - -"That's an odd girl," says Mr. Franklin. "I wonder what she sees -in me to surprise her?" - -"I suppose, sir," I answered, drolling on our young gentleman's -Continental education, "it's the varnish from foreign parts." - -I set down here Mr. Franklin's careless question, and my foolish answer, -as a consolation and encouragement to all stupid people--it being, -as I have remarked, a great satisfaction to our inferior fellow-creatures -to find that their betters are, on occasions, no brighter than they are. -Neither Mr. Franklin, with his wonderful foreign training, nor I, -with my age, experience, and natural mother-wit, had the ghost of an idea -of what Rosanna Spearman's unaccountable behaviour really meant. -She was out of our thoughts, poor soul, before we had seen the last flutter -of her little grey cloak among the sand-hills. And what of that? you will ask, -naturally enough. Read on, good friend, as patiently as you can, and perhaps -you will be as sorry for Rosanna Spearman as I was, when I found out -the truth. - - - -CHAPTER V - - -The first thing I did, after we were left together alone, -was to make a third attempt to get up from my seat on the sand. -Mr. Franklin stopped me. - -"There is one advantage about this horrid place," he said; -"we have got it all to ourselves. Stay where you are, Betteredge; -I have something to say to you." - -While he was speaking, I was looking at him, and trying to see something -of the boy I remembered, in the man before me. The man put me out. -Look as I might, I could see no more of his boy's rosy cheeks than -of his boy's trim little jacket. His complexion had got pale: -his face, at the lower part was covered, to my great surprise -and disappointment, with a curly brown beard and mustachios. -He had a lively touch-and-go way with him, very pleasant and engaging, -I admit; but nothing to compare with his free-and-easy manners -of other times. To make matters worse, he had promised to be tall, -and had not kept his promise. He was neat, and slim, and well made; -but he wasn't by an inch or two up to the middle height. In short, -he baffled me altogether. The years that had passed had left nothing -of his old self, except the bright, straightforward look in his eyes. -There I found our nice boy again, and there I concluded to stop in -my investigation. - -"Welcome back to the old place, Mr. Franklin," I said. -"All the more welcome, sir, that you have come some hours -before we expected you." - -"I have a reason for coming before you expected me," answered Mr. Franklin. -"I suspect, Betteredge, that I have been followed and watched in London, -for the last three or four days; and I have travelled by the morning instead -of the afternoon train, because I wanted to give a certain dark-looking -stranger the slip." - -Those words did more than surprise me. They brought back to my mind, -in a flash, the three jugglers, and Penelope's notion that they meant -some mischief to Mr. Franklin Blake. - -"Who's watching you, sir,--and why?" I inquired. - -"Tell me about the three Indians you have had at the house to-day," -says Mr. Franklin, without noticing my question. "It's just possible, -Betteredge, that my stranger and your three jugglers may turn out to be -pieces of the same puzzle." - -"How do you come to know about the jugglers, sir?" I asked, -putting one question on the top of another, which was bad manners, -I own. But you don't expect much from poor human nature-- -so don't expect much from me. - -"I saw Penelope at the house," says Mr. Franklin; "and Penelope told me. -Your daughter promised to be a pretty girl, Betteredge, and she has -kept her promise. Penelope has got a small ear and a small foot. -Did the late Mrs. Betteredge possess those inestimable advantages?" - -"The late Mrs. Betteredge possessed a good many defects, sir," -says I. "One of them (if you will pardon my mentioning it) -was never keeping to the matter in hand. She was more like a fly -than a woman: she couldn't settle on anything." - -"She would just have suited me," says Mr. Franklin. "I never settle -on anything either. Betteredge, your edge is better than ever. -Your daughter said as much, when I asked for particulars about the jugglers. -"Father will tell you, sir. He's a wonderful man for his age; and he -expresses himself beautifully." Penelope's own words--blushing divinely. -Not even my respect for you prevented me from--never mind; I knew her -when she was a child, and she's none the worse for it. Let's be serious. -What did the jugglers do?" - -I was something dissatisfied with my daughter--not for letting -Mr. Franklin kiss her; Mr. Franklin was welcome to THAT-- -but for forcing me to tell her foolish story at second hand. -However, there was no help for it now but to mention -the circumstances. Mr. Franklin's merriment all died away as I -went on. He sat knitting his eyebrows, and twisting his beard. -When I had done, he repeated after me two of the questions which -the chief juggler had put to the boy--seemingly for the purpose -of fixing them well in his mind. - -"'Is it on the road to this house, and on no other, that the English -gentleman will travel to-day?' 'Has the English gentleman got It about him?' -I suspect," says Mr. Franklin, pulling a little sealed paper parcel -out of his pocket, "that 'It' means THIS. And 'this,' Betteredge, -means my uncle Herncastle's famous Diamond." - -"Good Lord, sir!" I broke out, "how do you come to be in charge -of the wicked Colonel's Diamond?" - -"The wicked Colonel's will has left his Diamond as a birthday -present to my cousin Rachel," says Mr. Franklin. "And my father, -as the wicked Colonel's executor, has given it in charge to me -to bring down here." - -If the sea, then oozing in smoothly over the Shivering Sand, -had been changed into dry land before my own eyes, I doubt if I -could have been more surprised than I was when Mr. Franklin -spoke those words. - -"The Colonel's Diamond left to Miss Rachel!" says I. "And -your father, sir, the Colonel's executor! Why, I would -have laid any bet you like, Mr. Franklin, that your father -wouldn't have touched the Colonel with a pair of tongs!" - -"Strong language, Betteredge! What was there against the Colonel. -He belonged to your time, not to mine. Tell me what you know about him, -and I'll tell you how my father came to be his executor, and more besides. -I have made some discoveries in London about my uncle Herncastle -and his Diamond, which have rather an ugly look to my eyes; and I want -you to confirm them. You called him the 'wicked Colonel' just now. -Search your memory, my old friend, and tell me why." - -I saw he was in earnest, and I told him. - -Here follows the substance of what I said, written out entirely -for your benefit. Pay attention to it, or you will be all abroad, -when we get deeper into the story. Clear your mind of the children, -or the dinner, or the new bonnet, or what not. Try if you can't -forget politics, horses, prices in the City, and grievances at the club. -I hope you won't take this freedom on my part amiss; it's only a way -I have of appealing to the gentle reader. Lord! haven't I seen you -with the greatest authors in your hands, and don't I know how ready -your attention is to wander when it's a book that asks for it, -instead of a person? - - - -I spoke, a little way back, of my lady's father, the old lord with -the short temper and the long tongue. He had five children in all. -Two sons to begin with; then, after a long time, his wife broke out -breeding again, and the three young ladies came briskly one after -the other, as fast as the nature of things would permit; my mistress, -as before mentioned, being the youngest and best of the three. -Of the two sons, the eldest, Arthur, inherited the title and estates. -The second, the Honourable John, got a fine fortune left him by a relative, -and went into the army. - -It's an ill bird, they say, that fouls its own nest. -I look on the noble family of the Herncastles as being my nest; -and I shall take it as a favour if I am not expected to enter -into particulars on the subject of the Honourable John. -He was, I honestly believe, one of the greatest blackguards that -ever lived. I can hardly say more or less for him than that. -He went into the army, beginning in the Guards. He had to leave -the Guards before he was two-and-twenty--never mind why. -They are very strict in the army, and they were too strict for -the Honourable John. He went out to India to see whether they -were equally strict there, and to try a little active service. -In the matter of bravery (to give him his due), he was a -mixture of bull-dog and game-cock, with a dash of the savage. -He was at the taking of Seringapatam. Soon afterwards -he changed into another regiment, and, in course of time, -changed into a third. In the third he got his last step -as lieutenant-colonel, and, getting that, got also a sunstroke, -and came home to England. - -He came back with a character that closed the doors of all his family -against him, my lady (then just married) taking the lead, and declaring -(with Sir John's approval, of course) that her brother should never -enter any house of hers. There was more than one slur on the Colonel -that made people shy of him; but the blot of the Diamond is all I need -mention here. - -It was said he had got possession of his Indian jewel -by means which, bold as he was, he didn't dare acknowledge. -He never attempted to sell it--not being in need of money, -and not (to give him his due again) making money an object. -He never gave it away; he never even showed it to any living soul. -Some said he was afraid of its getting him into a difficulty with -the military authorities; others (very ignorant indeed of the real -nature of the man) said he was afraid, if he showed it, of its -costing him his life. - -There was perhaps a grain of truth mixed up with this last report. -It was false to say that he was afraid; but it was a fact -that his life had been twice threatened in India; and it was -firmly believed that the Moonstone was at the bottom of it. -When he came back to England, and found himself avoided by everybody, -the Moonstone was thought to be at the bottom of it again. -The mystery of the Colonel's life got in the Colonel's way, -and outlawed him, as you may say, among his own people. -The men wouldn't let him into their clubs; the women-- -more than one--whom he wanted to marry, refused him; -friends and relations got too near-sighted to see him in -the street. - -Some men in this mess would have tried to set themselves right -with the world. But to give in, even when he was wrong, and had -all society against him, was not the way of the Honourable John. -He had kept the Diamond, in flat defiance of assassination, in India. -He kept the Diamond, in flat defiance of public opinion, in England. -There you have the portrait of the man before you, as in a picture: -a character that braved everything; and a face, handsome as it was, -that looked possessed by the devil. - -We heard different rumours about him from time to time. Sometimes they -said he was given up to smoking opium and collecting old books; -sometimes he was reported to be trying strange things in chemistry; -sometimes he was seen carousing and amusing himself among the lowest -people in the lowest slums of London. Anyhow, a solitary, vicious, -underground life was the life the Colonel led. Once, and once only, -after his return to England, I myself saw him, face to face. - -About two years before the time of which I am now writing, -and about a year and a half before the time of his death, -the Colonel came unexpectedly to my lady's house in London. -It was the night of Miss Rachel's birthday, the twenty-first -of June; and there was a party in honour of it, as usual. -I received a message from the footman to say that a gentleman wanted -to see me. Going up into the hall, there I found the Colonel, -wasted, and worn, and old, and shabby, and as wild and as wicked -as ever. - -"Go up to my sister," says he; "and say that I have called to wish my niece -many happy returns of the day." - -He had made attempts by letter, more than once already, to be reconciled -with my lady, for no other purpose, I am firmly persuaded, than to annoy her. -But this was the first time he had actually come to the house. I had it -on the tip of my tongue to say that my mistress had a party that night. -But the devilish look of him daunted me. I went up-stairs with his message, -and left him, by his own desire, waiting in the hall. The servants stood -staring at him, at a distance, as if he was a walking engine of destruction, -loaded with powder and shot, and likely to go off among them at a -moment's notice. - -My lady had a dash--no more--of the family temper. -"Tell Colonel Herncastle," she said, when I gave her her -brother's message, "that Miss Verinder is engaged, and that I -decline to see him." I tried to plead for a civiller answer -than that; knowing the Colonel's constitutional superiority -to the restraints which govern gentlemen in general. -Quite useless! The family temper flashed out at me directly. -"When I want your advice," says my lady, "you know that I -always ask for it. I don't ask for it now." I went downstairs -with the message, of which I took the liberty of presenting -a new and amended edition of my own contriving, as follows: -"My lady and Miss Rachel regret that they are engaged, Colonel; -and beg to be excused having the honour of seeing you." - -I expected him to break out, even at that polite way of putting it. -To my surprise he did nothing of the sort; he alarmed me -by taking the thing with an unnatural quiet. His eyes, -of a glittering bright grey, just settled on me for a moment; -and he laughed, not out of himself, like other people, -but INTO himself, in a soft, chuckling, horridly mischievous way. -"Thank you, Betteredge," he said. "I shall remember -my niece's birthday." With that, he turned on his heel, -and walked out of the house. - -The next birthday came round, and we heard he was ill in bed. -Six months afterwards--that is to say, six months before -the time I am now writing of--there came a letter from a highly -respectable clergyman to my lady. It communicated two wonderful -things in the way of family news. First, that the Colonel -had forgiven his sister on his death-bed. Second, that he had -forgiven everybody else, and had made a most edifying end. -I have myself (in spite of the bishops and the clergy) -an unfeigned respect for the Church; but I am firmly persuaded, -at the same time, that the devil remained in undisturbed -possession of the Honourable John, and that the last abominable -act in the life of that abominable man was (saving your presence) -to take the clergyman in! - -This was the sum-total of what I had to tell Mr. Franklin. -I remarked that he listened more and more eagerly the longer I -went on. Also, that the story of the Colonel being sent away -from his sister's door, on the occasion of his niece's birthday, -seemed to strike Mr. Franklin like a shot that had hit the mark. -Though he didn't acknowledge it, I saw that I had made him uneasy, -plainly enough, in his face. - -"You have said your say, Betteredge," he remarked. "It's my turn now. -Before, however, I tell you what discoveries I have made in London, -and how I came to be mixed up in this matter of the Diamond, I want -to know one thing. You look, my old friend, as if you didn't quite -understand the object to be answered by this consultation of ours. -Do your looks belie you?" - -"No, sir," I said. "My looks, on this occasion at any rate, -tell the truth." - -"In that case," says Mr. Franklin, "suppose I put you up to my point -of view, before we go any further. I see three very serious questions -involved in the Colonel's birthday-gift to my cousin Rachel. -Follow me carefully, Betteredge; and count me off on your fingers, -if it will help you," says Mr. Franklin, with a certain pleasure -in showing how clear-headed he could be, which reminded me wonderfully -of old times when he was a boy. "Question the first: Was the Colonel's -Diamond the object of a conspiracy in India? Question the second: -Has the conspiracy followed the Colonel's Diamond to England? -Question the third: Did the Colonel know the conspiracy followed -the Diamond; and has he purposely left a legacy of trouble and danger -to his sister, through the innocent medium of his sister's child? -THAT is what I am driving at, Betteredge. Don't let me -frighten you." - -It was all very well to say that, but he HAD frightened me. - -If he was right, here was our quiet English house suddenly invaded -by a devilish Indian Diamond--bringing after it a conspiracy -of living rogues, set loose on us by the vengeance of a dead man. -There was our situation as revealed to me in Mr. Franklin's last words! -Who ever heard the like of it--in the nineteenth century, mind; -in an age of progress, and in a country which rejoices in the -blessings of the British constitution? Nobody ever heard the like -of it, and, consequently, nobody can be expected to believe it. -I shall go on with my story, however, in spite of that. - -When you get a sudden alarm, of the sort that I had got now, -nine times out of ten the place you feel it in is your stomach. -When you feel it in your stomach, your attention wanders, and you -begin to fidget. I fidgeted silently in my place on the sand. -Mr. Franklin noticed me, contending with a perturbed stomach or mind-- -which you please; they mean the same thing--and, checking himself -just as he was starting with his part of the story, said to me sharply, -"What do you want?" - -What did I want? I didn't tell HIM; but I'll tell YOU, in confidence. -I wanted a whiff of my pipe, and a turn at ROBINSON CRUSOE. - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -Keeping my private sentiments to myself, I respectfully requested Mr. Franklin -to go on. Mr. Franklin replied, "Don't fidget, Betteredge," and went on. - -Our young gentleman's first words informed me that his discoveries, -concerning the wicked Colonel and the Diamond, had begun with a visit -which he had paid (before he came to us) to the family lawyer, at Hampstead. -A chance word dropped by Mr. Franklin, when the two were alone, one day, -after dinner, revealed that he had been charged by his father with a -birthday present to be taken to Miss Rachel. One thing led to another; -and it ended in the lawyer mentioning what the present really was, -and how the friendly connexion between the late Colonel and Mr. Blake, -senior, had taken its rise. The facts here are really so extraordinary, -that I doubt if I can trust my own language to do justice to them. -I prefer trying to report Mr. Franklin's discoveries, as nearly as may be, -in Mr. Franklin's own words. - -"You remember the time, Betteredge," he said, "when my father -was trying to prove his title to that unlucky Dukedom? -Well! that was also the time when my uncle Herncastle returned -from India. My father discovered that his brother-in-law -was in possession of certain papers which were likely to be -of service to him in his lawsuit. He called on the Colonel, -on pretence of welcoming him back to England. The Colonel was -not to be deluded in that way. "You want something," he said, -"or you would never have compromised your reputation by calling -on ME." My father saw that the one chance for him was to show -his hand; he admitted, at once, that he wanted the papers. -The Colonel asked for a day to consider his answer. -His answer came in the shape of a most extraordinary letter, -which my friend the lawyer showed me. The Colonel began by saying -that he wanted something of my father, and that he begged -to propose an exchange of friendly services between them. -The fortune of war (that was the expression he used) had placed -him in possession of one of the largest Diamonds in the world; -and he had reason to believe that neither he nor his precious -jewel was safe in any house, in any quarter of the globe, -which they occupied together. Under these alarming circumstances, -he had determined to place his Diamond in the keeping of -another person. That person was not expected to run any risk. -He might deposit the precious stone in any place especially -guarded and set apart--like a banker's or jeweller's strong-room-- -for the safe custody of valuables of high price. -His main personal responsibility in the matter was to be -of the passive kind. He was to undertake either by himself, -or by a trustworthy representative--to receive at a -prearranged address, on certain prearranged days in every year, -a note from the Colonel, simply stating the fact that he was -a living man at that date. In the event of the date passing -over without the note being received, the Colonel's silence -might be taken as a sure token of the Colonel's death by murder. -In that case, and in no other, certain sealed instructions -relating to the disposal of the Diamond, and deposited -with it, were to be opened, and followed implicitly. -If my father chose to accept this strange charge, -the Colonel's papers were at his disposal in return. That was -the letter." - -"What did your father do, sir?" I asked. - -"Do?" says Mr. Franklin. "I'll tell you what he did. -He brought the invaluable faculty, called common sense, -to bear on the Colonel's letter. The whole thing, he declared, -was simply absurd. Somewhere in his Indian wanderings, -the Colonel had picked up with some wretched crystal which -he took for a diamond. As for the danger of his being murdered, -and the precautions devised to preserve his life and his piece -of crystal, this was the nineteenth century, and any man in his -senses had only to apply to the police. The Colonel had been -a notorious opium-eater for years past; and, if the only way -of getting at the valuable papers he possessed was by accepting -a matter of opium as a matter of fact, my father was quite -willing to take the ridiculous responsibility imposed on him-- -all the more readily that it involved no trouble to himself. -The Diamond and the sealed instructions went into his banker's -strong-room, and the Colonel's letters, periodically reporting -him a living man, were received and opened by our family lawyer, -Mr. Bruff, as my father's representative. No sensible person, -in a similar position, could have viewed the matter in any other way. -Nothing in this world, Betteredge, is probable unless it appeals -to our own trumpery experience; and we only believe in a romance -when we see it in a newspaper." - -It was plain to me from this, that Mr. Franklin thought his father's notion -about the Colonel hasty and wrong. - -"What is your own private opinion about the matter, sir?" -I asked. - -"Let's finish the story of the Colonel first," says Mr. Franklin. -"There is a curious want of system, Betteredge, in the English mind; -and your question, my old friend, is an instance of it. When we -are not occupied in making machinery, we are (mentally speaking) -the most slovenly people in the universe." - -"So much," I thought to myself, "for a foreign education! -He has learned that way of girding at us in France, -I suppose." - -Mr. Franklin took up the lost thread, and went on. - -"My father," he said, "got the papers he wanted, -and never saw his brother-in-law again from that time. -Year after year, on the prearranged days, the prearranged -letter came from the Colonel, and was opened by Mr. Bruff. -I have seen the letters, in a heap, all of them written in -the same brief, business-like form of words: " Sir,--This is -to certify that I am still a living man. Let the Diamond be. -John Herncastle." That was all he ever wrote, and that came -regularly to the day; until some six or eight months since, -when the form of the letter varied for the first time. -It ran now: "Sir,--They tell me I am dying. Come to me, -and help me to make my will." Mr. Bruff went, and found him, -in the little suburban villa, surrounded by its own grounds, -in which he had lived alone, ever since he had left India. -He had dogs, cats, and birds to keep him company; -but no human being near him, except the person who came -daily to do the house-work, and the doctor at the bedside. -The will was a very simple matter. The Colonel had dissipated -the greater part of his fortune in his chemical investigations. -His will began and ended in three clauses, which he dictated -from his bed, in perfect possession of his faculties. The first -clause provided for the safe keeping and support of his animals. -The second founded a professorship of experimental chemistry -at a northern university. The third bequeathed the Moonstone -as a birthday present to his niece, on condition that my father -would act as executor. My father at first refused to act. -On second thoughts, however, he gave way, partly because he was -assured that the executorship would involve him in no trouble; -partly because Mr. Bruff suggested, in Rachel's interest, -that the Diamond might be worth something, after all." - -"Did the Colonel give any reason, sir," I inquired, "why he left -the Diamond to Miss Rachel?" - -"He not only gave the reason--he had the reason written in his will," -said Mr. Franklin. "I have got an extract, which you shall -see presently. Don't be slovenly-minded, Betteredge! -One thing at a time. You have heard about the Colonel's Will; -now you must hear what happened after the Colonel's death. -It was formally necessary to have the Diamond valued, -before the Will could be proved. All the jewellers consulted, -at once confirmed the Colonel's assertion that he possessed -one of the largest diamonds in the world. The question -of accurately valuing it presented some serious difficulties. -Its size made it a phenomenon in the diamond market; -its colour placed it in a category by itself; and, to add -to these elements of uncertainty, there was a defect, -in the shape of a flaw, in the very heart of the stone. -Even with this last serious draw-back, however, the lowest -of the various estimates given was twenty thousand pounds. -Conceive my father's astonishment! He had been within -a hair's-breadth of refusing to act as executor, and of -allowing this magnificent jewel to be lost to the family. -The interest he took in the matter now, induced him to open -the sealed instructions which had been deposited with the Diamond. -Mr. Bruff showed this document to me, with the other papers; -and it suggests (to my mind) a clue to the nature of the conspiracy -which threatened the Colonel's life." - -"Then you do believe, sir," I said, "that there was a conspiracy?" - -"Not possessing my father's excellent common sense," answered Mr. Franklin, -"I believe the Colonel's life was threatened, exactly as the Colonel said. -The sealed instructions, as I think, explain how it was that he died, -after all, quietly in his bed. In the event of his death by violence (that is -to say, in the absence of the regular letter from him at the appointed date), -my father was then directed to send the Moonstone secretly to Amsterdam. -It was to be deposited in that city with a famous diamond-cutter, and it -was to be cut up into from four to six separate stones. The stones were -then to be sold for what they would fetch, and the proceeds were to be -applied to the founding of that professorship of experimental chemistry, -which the Colonel has since endowed by his Will. Now, Betteredge, exert those -sharp wits of yours, and observe the conclusion to which the Colonel's -instructions point!" - -I instantly exerted my wits. They were of the slovenly English sort; -and they consequently muddled it all, until Mr. Franklin took them in hand, -and pointed out what they ought to see. - -"Remark," says Mr. Franklin, "that the integrity of the Diamond, -as a whole stone, is here artfully made dependent on -the preservation from violence of the Colonel's life. -He is not satisfied with saying to the enemies he dreads, "Kill me-- -and you will be no nearer to the Diamond than you are now; -it is where you can't get at it--in the guarded strong-room -of a bank." He says instead, "Kill me--and the Diamond will -be the Diamond no longer; its identity will be destroyed." -What does that mean?" - -Here I had (as I thought) a flash of the wonderful foreign brightness. - -"I know," I said. "It means lowering the value of the stone, -and cheating the rogues in that way!" - -"Nothing of the sort," says Mr. Franklin. "I have inquired -about that. The flawed Diamond, cut up, would actually fetch -more than the Diamond as it now is; for this plain reason-- -that from four to six perfect brilliants might be cut from it, -which would be, collectively, worth more money than the large-- -but imperfect single stone. If robbery for the purpose -of gain was at the bottom of the conspiracy, the Colonel's -instructions absolutely made the Diamond better worth stealing. -More money could have been got for it, and the disposal of it -in the diamond market would have been infinitely easier, -if it had passed through the hands of the workmen -of Amsterdam." - -"Lord bless us, sir!" I burst out. "What was the plot, then?" - -"A plot organised among the Indians who originally owned the jewel," -says Mr. Franklin--"a plot with some old Hindoo superstition at -the bottom of it. That is my opinion, confirmed by a family paper -which I have about me at this moment." - -I saw, now, why the appearance of the three Indian jugglers -at our house had presented itself to Mr. Franklin in the light -of a circumstance worth noting. - -"I don't want to force my opinion on you," Mr. Franklin went on. -"The idea of certain chosen servants of an old Hindoo superstition -devoting themselves, through all difficulties and dangers, -to watching the opportunity of recovering their sacred gem, -appears to me to be perfectly consistent with everything that we -know of the patience of Oriental races, and the influence -of Oriental religions. But then I am an imaginative man; -and the butcher, the baker, and the tax-gatherer, are not -the only credible realities in existence to my mind. -Let the guess I have made at the truth in this matter go for what -it is worth, and let us get on to the only practical question -that concerns us. Does the conspiracy against the Moonstone -survive the Colonel's death? And did the Colonel know it, -when he left the birthday gift to his niece?" - -I began to see my lady and Miss Rachel at the end of it all, now. -Not a word he said escaped me. - -"I was not very willing, when I discovered the story of the Moonstone," -said Mr. Franklin, "to be the means of bringing it here. But Mr. Bruff -reminded me that somebody must put my cousin's legacy into my cousin's hands-- -and that I might as well do it as anybody else. After taking the Diamond -out of the bank, I fancied I was followed in the streets by a shabby, -dark-complexioned man. I went to my father's house to pick up my luggage, -and found a letter there, which unexpectedly detained me in London. -I went back to the bank with the Diamond, and thought I saw the shabby -man again. Taking the Diamond once more out of the bank this morning, -I saw the man for the third time, gave him the slip, and started -(before he recovered the trace of me) by the morning instead of -the afternoon train. Here I am, with the Diamond safe and sound-- -and what is the first news that meets me? I find that three strolling -Indians have been at the house, and that my arrival from London, -and something which I am expected to have about me, are two special objects -of investigation to them when they believe themselves to be alone. -I don't waste time and words on their pouring the ink into the boy's hand, -and telling him to look in it for a man at a distance, and for something -in that man's pocket. The thing (which I have often seen done in the East) -is "hocus-pocus" in my opinion, as it is in yours. The present question -for us to decide is, whether I am wrongly attaching a meaning to a mere -accident? or whether we really have evidence of the Indians being on -the track of the Moonstone, the moment it is removed from the safe keeping of -the bank?" - -Neither he nor I seemed to fancy dealing with this part of the inquiry. -We looked at each other, and then we looked at the tide, oozing in smoothly, -higher and higher, over the Shivering Sand. - -"What are you thinking of?" says Mr. Franklin, suddenly. - -"I was thinking, sir," I answered, "that I should like to shy the Diamond -into the quicksand, and settle the question in THAT way." - -"If you have got the value of the stone in your pocket," -answered Mr. Franklin, "say so, Betteredge, and in it goes!" - -It's curious to note, when your mind's anxious, how very far in the way of -relief a very small joke will go. We found a fund of merriment, at the time, -in the notion of making away with Miss Rachel's lawful property, and getting -Mr. Blake, as executor, into dreadful trouble--though where the merriment was, -I am quite at a loss to discover now. - -Mr. Franklin was the first to bring the talk back to the talk's -proper purpose. He took an envelope out of his pocket, opened it, -and handed to me the paper inside. - -"Betteredge," he said, "we must face the question of the Colonel's -motive in leaving this legacy to his niece, for my aunt's sake. -Bear in mind how Lady Verinder treated her brother from the time -when he returned to England, to the time when he told you he should -remember his niece's birthday. And read that." - -He gave me the extract from the Colonel's Will. I have got it -by me while I write these words; and I copy it, as follows, -for your benefit: - -"Thirdly, and lastly, I give and bequeath to my niece, Rachel Verinder, -daughter and only child of my sister, Julia Verinder, widow--if her mother, -the said Julia Verinder, shall be living on the said Rachel Verinder's -next Birthday after my death--the yellow Diamond belonging to me, and known -in the East by the name of The Moonstone: subject to this condition, -that her mother, the said Julia Verinder, shall be living at the time. -And I hereby desire my executor to give my Diamond, either by his -own hands or by the hands of some trustworthy representative whom -he shall appoint, into the personal possession of my said niece Rachel, -on her next birthday after my death, and in the presence, if possible, -of my sister, the said Julia Verinder. And I desire that my said sister -may be informed, by means of a true copy of this, the third and last -clause of my Will, that I give the Diamond to her daughter Rachel, -in token of my free forgiveness of the injury which her conduct towards -me has been the means of inflicting on my reputation in my lifetime; -and especially in proof that I pardon, as becomes a dying man, -the insult offered to me as an officer and a gentleman, when her servant, -by her orders, closed the door of her house against me, on the occasion of her -daughter's birthday." - -More words followed these, providing if my lady was dead, -or if Miss Rachel was dead, at the time of the testator's decease, -for the Diamond being sent to Holland, in accordance -with the sealed instructions originally deposited with it. -The proceeds of the sale were, in that case, to be added -to the money already left by the Will for the professorship of -chemistry at the university in the north. - -I handed the paper back to Mr. Franklin, sorely troubled what to say -to him. Up to that moment, my own opinion had been (as you know) -that the Colonel had died as wickedly as he had lived. I don't say -the copy from his Will actually converted me from that opinion: -I only say it staggered me. - -"Well," says Mr. Franklin, "now you have read the Colonel's own statement, -what do you say? In bringing the Moonstone to my aunt's house, am I -serving his vengeance blindfold, or am I vindicating him in the character -of a penitent and Christian man?" - -"It seems hard to say, sir," I answered, "that he died with a horrid revenge -in his heart, and a horrid lie on his lips. God alone knows the truth. -Don't ask me." - -Mr. Franklin sat twisting and turning the extract from the Will -in his fingers, as if he expected to squeeze the truth out of it -in that manner. He altered quite remarkably, at the same time. -From being brisk and bright, he now became, most unaccountably, -a slow, solemn, and pondering young man. - -"This question has two sides," he said. "An Objective side, -and a Subjective side. Which are we to take?" - -He had had a German education as well as a French. One of the two had -been in undisturbed possession of him (as I supposed) up to this time. -And now (as well as I could make out) the other was taking its place. -It is one of my rules in life, never to notice what I don't understand. -I steered a middle course between the Objective side and the Subjective side. -In plain English I stared hard, and said nothing. - -"Let's extract the inner meaning of this," says Mr. Franklin. -"Why did my uncle leave the Diamond to Rachel? Why didn't he leave it -to my aunt?" - -"That's not beyond guessing, sir, at any rate," I said. -"Colonel Herncastle knew my lady well enough to know that she -would have refused to accept any legacy that came to her -from HIM." - -"How did he know that Rachel might not refuse to accept it, too?" - -"Is there any young lady in existence, sir, who could resist the temptation -of accepting such a birthday present as The Moonstone?" - -"That's the Subjective view," says Mr. Franklin. "It does you -great credit, Betteredge, to be able to take the Subjective view. -But there's another mystery about the Colonel's legacy which is not -accounted for yet. How are we to explain his only giving Rachel her -birthday present conditionally on her mother being alive?" - -"I don't want to slander a dead man, sir," I answered. -"But if he HAS purposely left a legacy of trouble and danger -to his sister, by the means of her child, it must be a legacy -made conditional on his sister's being alive to feel the vexation -of it." - -"Oh! That's your interpretation of his motive, is it? -The Subjective interpretation again! Have you ever been -in Germany, Betteredge?" - -"No, sir. What's your interpretation, if you please?" - -"I can see," says Mr. Franklin, "that the Colonel's object may, -quite possibly, have been--not to benefit his niece, whom he had never -even seen--but to prove to his sister that he had died forgiving her, -and to prove it very prettily by means of a present made to her child. -There is a totally different explanation from yours, Betteredge, taking its -rise in a Subjective-Objective point of view. From all I can see, -one interpretation is just as likely to be right as the other." - -Having brought matters to this pleasant and comforting issue, Mr. Franklin -appeared to think that he had completed all that was required of him. -He laid down flat on his back on the sand, and asked what was to be -done next. - -He had been so clever, and clear-headed (before he began to talk -the foreign gibberish), and had so completely taken the lead -in the business up to the present time, that I was quite -unprepared for such a sudden change as he now exhibited in this -helpless leaning upon me. It was not till later that I learned-- -by assistance of Miss Rachel, who was the first to make the discovery-- -that these puzzling shifts and transformations in Mr. Franklin -were due to the effect on him of his foreign training. -At the age when we are all of us most apt to take our colouring, -in the form of a reflection from the colouring of other people, -he had been sent abroad, and had been passed on from one nation -to another, before there was time for any one colouring more than -another to settle itself on him firmly. As a consequence of this, -he had come back with so many different sides to his character, -all more or less jarring with each other, that he seemed to pass -his life in a state of perpetual contradiction with himself. -He could be a busy man, and a lazy man; cloudy in the head, -and clear in the head; a model of determination, and a spectacle -of helplessness, all together. He had his French side, -and his German side, and his Italian side--the original -English foundation showing through, every now and then, -as much as to say, "Here I am, sorely transmogrified, as you see, -but there's something of me left at the bottom of him still." -Miss Rachel used to remark that the Italian side of him -was uppermost, on those occasions when he unexpectedly gave in, -and asked you in his nice sweet-tempered way to take his own -responsibilities on your shoulders. You will do him no injustice, -I think, if you conclude that the Italian side of him was -uppermost now. - -"Isn't it your business, sir," I asked, "to know what to do next? -Surely it can't be mine?" - -Mr. Franklin didn't appear to see the force of my question-- -not being in a position, at the time, to see anything but the sky -over his head. - -"I don't want to alarm my aunt without reason," he said. -"And I don't want to leave her without what may be a needful warning. -If you were in my place, Betteredge, tell me, in one word, -what would you do?" - -In one word, I told him: "Wait." - -"With all my heart," says Mr. Franklin. "How long?" - -I proceeded to explain myself. - -"As I understand it, sir," I said, "somebody is bound to put -this plaguy Diamond into Miss Rachel's hands on her birthday-- -and you may as well do it as another. Very good. This is -the twenty-fifth of May, and the birthday is on the twenty-first -of June. We have got close on four weeks before us. -Let's wait and see what happens in that time; and let's warn -my lady, or not, as the circumstances direct us." - -"Perfect, Betteredge, as far as it goes!" says Mr. Franklin. -"But between this and the birthday, what's to be done with -the Diamond?" - -"What your father did with it, to be sure, sir!" I answered. -"Your father put it in the safe keeping of a bank in London. -You put in the safe keeping of the bank at Frizinghall." -(Frizinghall was our nearest town, and the Bank of England wasn't -safer than the bank there.) "If I were you, sir," I added, -"I would ride straight away with it to Frizinghall before the ladies -come back." - -The prospect of doing something--and, what is more, of doing that something -on a horse--brought Mr. Franklin up like lightning from the flat of his back. -He sprang to his feet, and pulled me up, without ceremony, on to mine. -"Betteredge, you are worth your weight in gold," he said. "Come along, -and saddle the best horse in the stables directly." - -Here (God bless it!) was the original English foundation -of him showing through all the foreign varnish at last! -Here was the Master Franklin I remembered, coming out again -in the good old way at the prospect of a ride, and reminding -me of the good old times! Saddle a horse for him? -I would have saddled a dozen horses, if he could only have ridden -them all! - -We went back to the house in a hurry; we had the fleetest horse in -the stables saddled in a hurry; and Mr. Franklin rattled off in a hurry, -to lodge the cursed Diamond once more in the strong-room of a bank. -When I heard the last of his horse's hoofs on the drive, and when I turned -about in the yard and found I was alone again, I felt half inclined to ask -myself if I hadn't woke up from a dream. - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -While I was in this bewildered frame of mind, sorely needing -a little quiet time by myself to put me right again, my daughter -Penelope got in my way (just as her late mother used to get in my -way on the stairs), and instantly summoned me to tell her all -that had passed at the conference between Mr. Franklin and me. -Under present circumstances, the one thing to be done was to -clap the extinguisher upon Penelope's curiosity on the spot. -I accordingly replied that Mr. Franklin and I had both -talked of foreign politics, till we could talk no longer, -and had then mutually fallen asleep in the heat of the sun. -Try that sort of answer when your wife or your daughter -next worries you with an awkward question at an awkward time, -and depend on the natural sweetness of women for kissing and -making it up again at the next opportunity. - -The afternoon wore on, and my lady and Miss Rachel came back. - -Needless to say how astonished they were, when they heard that -Mr. Franklin Blake had arrived, and had gone off again on horseback. -Needless also to say, that THEY asked awkward questions directly, -and that the "foreign politics" and the "falling asleep in the sun" -wouldn't serve a second time over with THEM. Being at the end -of my invention, I said Mr. Franklin's arrival by the early train -was entirely attributable to one of Mr. Franklin's freaks. -Being asked, upon that, whether his galloping off again -on horseback was another of Mr. Franklin's freaks, I said, -"Yes, it was;" and slipped out of it--I think very cleverly-- -in that way. - -Having got over my difficulties with the ladies, I found more -difficulties waiting for me when I went back to my own room. -In came Penelope--with the natural sweetness of women-- -to kiss and make it up again; and--with the natural curiosity -of women--to ask another question. This time she only wanted -me to tell her what was the matter with our second housemaid, -Rosanna Spearman. - -After leaving Mr. Franklin and me at the Shivering Sand, Rosanna, it appeared, -had returned to the house in a very unaccountable state of mind. -She had turned (if Penelope was to be believed) all the colours of -the rainbow. She had been merry without reason, and sad without reason. -In one breath she asked hundreds of questions about Mr. Franklin Blake, -and in another breath she had been angry with Penelope for presuming -to suppose that a strange gentleman could possess any interest for her. -She had been surprised, smiling, and scribbling Mr. Franklin's name -inside her workbox. She had been surprised again, crying and looking -at her deformed shoulder in the glass. Had she and Mr. Franklin known -anything of each other before to-day? Quite impossible! Had they heard -anything of each other? Impossible again! I could speak to Mr. Franklin's -astonishment as genuine, when he saw how the girl stared at him. -Penelope could speak to the girl's inquisitiveness as genuine, -when she asked questions about Mr. Franklin. The conference between us, -conducted in this way, was tiresome enough, until my daughter suddenly ended -it by bursting out with what I thought the most monstrous supposition I -had ever heard in my life. - -"Father!" says Penelope, quite seriously, "there's only one explanation -of it. Rosanna has fallen in love with Mr. Franklin Blake at first sight!" - -You have heard of beautiful young ladies falling in love at first sight, -and have thought it natural enough. But a housemaid out of a reformatory, -with a plain face and a deformed shoulder, falling in love, at first sight, -with a gentleman who comes on a visit to her mistress's house, match me that, -in the way of an absurdity, out of any story-book in Christendom, if you can! -I laughed till the tears rolled down my cheeks. Penelope resented my -merriment, in rather a strange way. "I never knew you cruel before, father," -she said, very gently, and went out. - -My girl's words fell upon me like a splash of cold water. -I was savage with myself, for feeling uneasy in myself the moment -she had spoken them--but so it was. We will change the subject, -if you please. I am sorry I drifted into writing about it; -and not without reason, as you will see when we have gone on together -a little longer. - - - -The evening came, and the dressing-bell for dinner rang, -before Mr. Franklin returned from Frizinghall. I took -his hot water up to his room myself, expecting to hear, -after this extraordinary delay, that something had happened. -To my great disappointment (and no doubt to yours also), -nothing had happened. He had not met with the Indians, -either going or returning. He had deposited the Moonstone -in the bank--describing it merely as a valuable of great price-- -and he had got the receipt for it safe in his pocket. -I went down-stairs, feeling that this was rather a flat ending, -after all our excitement about the Diamond earlier in -the day. - -How the meeting between Mr. Franklin and his aunt and cousin went off, -is more than I can tell you. - -I would have given something to have waited at table that day. -But, in my position in the household, waiting at dinner (except on -high family festivals) was letting down my dignity in the eyes -of the other servants--a thing which my lady considered me quite -prone enough to do already, without seeking occasions for it. -The news brought to me from the upper regions, that evening, -came from Penelope and the footman. Penelope mentioned that she had -never known Miss Rachel so particular about the dressing of her hair, -and had never seen her look so bright and pretty as she did when she -went down to meet Mr. Franklin in the drawing-room. The footman's -report was, that the preservation of a respectful composure -in the presence of his betters, and the waiting on Mr. Franklin -Blake at dinner, were two of the hardest things to reconcile -with each other that had ever tried his training in service. -Later in the evening, we heard them singing and playing duets, -Mr. Franklin piping high, Miss Rachel piping higher, and my lady, -on the piano, following them as it were over hedge and ditch, -and seeing them safe through it in a manner most wonderful and -pleasant to hear through the open windows, on the terrace at night. -Later still, I went to Mr. Franklin in the smoking-room, with -the soda-water and brandy, and found that Miss Rachel had put -the Diamond clean out of his head. "She's the most charming girl -I have seen since I came back to England!" was all I could extract -from him, when I endeavoured to lead the conversation to more -serious things. - -Towards midnight, I went round the house to lock up, accompanied by my -second in command (Samuel, the footman), as usual. When all the doors -were made fast, except the side door that opened on the terrace, -I sent Samuel to bed, and stepped out for a breath of fresh air before I -too went to bed in my turn. - -The night was still and close, and the moon was at the full in the heavens. -It was so silent out of doors, that I heard from time to time, -very faint and low, the fall of the sea, as the ground-swell heaved it -in on the sand-bank near the mouth of our little bay. As the house stood, -the terrace side was the dark side; but the broad moonlight showed -fair on the gravel walk that ran along the next side to the terrace. -Looking this way, after looking up at the sky, I saw the shadow -of a person in the moonlight thrown forward from behind the corner of -the house. - -Being old and sly, I forbore to call out; but being also, unfortunately, -old and heavy, my feet betrayed me on the gravel. Before I could steal -suddenly round the corner, as I had proposed, I heard lighter feet than mine-- -and more than one pair of them as I thought--retreating in a hurry. -By the time I had got to the corner, the trespassers, whoever they were, -had run into the shrubbery at the off side of the walk, and were hidden -from sight among the thick trees and bushes in that part of the grounds. -From the shrubbery, they could easily make their way, over our fence -into the road. If I had been forty years younger, I might have had -a chance of catching them before they got clear of our premises. -As it was, I went back to set a-going a younger pair of legs than mine. -Without disturbing anybody, Samuel and I got a couple of guns, and went -all round the house and through the shrubbery. Having made sure that no -persons were lurking about anywhere in our grounds, we turned back. -Passing over the walk where I had seen the shadow, I now noticed, -for the first time, a little bright object, lying on the clean gravel, -under the light of the moon. Picking the object up, I discovered it -was a small bottle, containing a thick sweet-smelling liquor, as black as -ink. - -I said nothing to Samuel. But, remembering what Penelope had told -me about the jugglers, and the pouring of the little pool of ink -into the palm of the boy's hand, I instantly suspected that I had -disturbed the three Indians, lurking about the house, and bent, -in their heathenish way, on discovering the whereabouts of the Diamond -that night. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Here, for one moment, I find it necessary to call a halt. - -On summoning up my own recollections--and on getting Penelope to help me, -by consulting her journal--I find that we may pass pretty rapidly over -the interval between Mr. Franklin Blake's arrival and Miss Rachel's birthday. -For the greater part of that time the days passed, and brought nothing with -them worth recording. With your good leave, then, and with Penelope's help, -I shall notice certain dates only in this place; reserving to myself -to tell the story day by day, once more, as soon as we get to the time -when the business of the Moonstone became the chief business of everybody -in our house. - -This said, we may now go on again--beginning, of course, -with the bottle of sweet-smelling ink which I found on the gravel -walk at night. - -On the next morning (the morning of the twenty-sixth) I showed Mr. Franklin -this article of jugglery, and told him what I have already told you. -His opinion was, not only that the Indians had been lurking about after -the Diamond, but also that they were actually foolish enough to believe -in their own magic--meaning thereby the making of signs on a boy's head, -and the pouring of ink into a boy's hand, and then expecting him to see -persons and things beyond the reach of human vision. In our country, -as well as in the East, Mr. Franklin informed me, there are people who -practise this curious hocus-pocus (without the ink, however); and who call -it by a French name, signifying something like brightness of sight. -"Depend upon it," says Mr. Franklin, "the Indians took it for granted -that we should keep the Diamond here; and they brought their clairvoyant -boy to show them the way to it, if they succeeded in getting into the house -last night." - -"Do you think they'll try again, sir?" I asked. - -"It depends," says Mr. Franklin, "on what the boy can really do. -If he can see the Diamond through the iron safe of the bank at Frizinghall, -we shall be troubled with no more visits from the Indians for the present. -If he can't, we shall have another chance of catching them in the shrubbery, -before many more nights are over our heads." - -I waited pretty confidently for that latter chance; but, strange to relate, -it never came. - -Whether the jugglers heard, in the town, of Mr. Franklin having -been seen at the bank, and drew their conclusions accordingly; -or whether the boy really did see the Diamond where the Diamond -was now lodged (which I, for one, flatly disbelieve); or whether, -after all, it was a mere effect of chance, this at any rate is -the plain truth--not the ghost of an Indian came near the house again, -through the weeks that passed before Miss Rachel's birthday. -The jugglers remained in and about the town plying their trade; -and Mr. Franklin and I remained waiting to see what might happen, -and resolute not to put the rogues on their guard by showing our -suspicions of them too soon. With this report of the proceedings -on either side, ends all that I have to say about the Indians for -the present. - - - -On the twenty-ninth of the month, Miss Rachel and Mr. Franklin -hit on a new method of working their way together through -the time which might otherwise have hung heavy on their hands. -There are reasons for taking particular notice here of the -occupation that amused them. You will find it has a bearing -on something that is still to come. - -Gentlefolks in general have a very awkward rock ahead in life-- -the rock ahead of their own idleness. Their lives being, -for the most part, passed in looking about them for something -to do, it is curious to see--especially when their tastes -are of what is called the intellectual sort--how often they -drift blindfold into some nasty pursuit. Nine times out of ten -they take to torturing something, or to spoiling something-- -and they firmly believe they are improving their minds, -when the plain truth is, they are only making a mess in the house. -I have seen them (ladies, I am sorry to say, as well as gentlemen) -go out, day after day, for example, with empty pill-boxes, -and catch newts, and beetles, and spiders, and frogs, -and come home and stick pins through the miserable wretches, -or cut them up, without a pang of remorse, into little pieces. -You see my young master, or my young mistress, poring over -one of their spiders' insides with a magnifying-glass; -or you meet one of their frogs walking downstairs without -his head--and when you wonder what this cruel nastiness means, -you are told that it means a taste in my young master or my -young mistress for natural history. Sometimes, again, you see -them occupied for hours together in spoiling a pretty flower -with pointed instruments, out of a stupid curiosity to know -what the flower is made of. Is its colour any prettier, -or its scent any sweeter, when you DO know? But there! -the poor souls must get through the time, you see--they must -get through the time. You dabbled in nasty mud, and made pies, -when you were a child; and you dabble in nasty science, -and dissect spiders, and spoil flowers, when you grow up. -In the one case and in the other, the secret of it is, -that you have got nothing to think of in your poor empty head, -and nothing to do with your poor idle hands. And so it ends in -your spoiling canvas with paints, and making a smell in the house; -or in keeping tadpoles in a glass box full of dirty water, -and turning everybody's stomach in the house; or in chipping off -bits of stone here, there, and everywhere, and dropping grit -into all the victuals in the house; or in staining your fingers -in the pursuit of photography, and doing justice without mercy -on everybody's face in the house. It often falls heavy enough, -no doubt, on people who are really obliged to get their living, -to be forced to work for the clothes that cover them, the roof -that shelters them, and the food that keeps them going. -But compare the hardest day's work you ever did with the -idleness that splits flowers and pokes its way into spiders' -stomachs, and thank your stars that your head has got something -it MUST think of, and your hands something that they MUST -do. - -As for Mr. Franklin and Miss Rachel, they tortured nothing, I am glad to say. -They simply confined themselves to making a mess; and all they spoilt, to do -them justice, was the panelling of a door. - -Mr. Franklin's universal genius, dabbling in everything, -dabbled in what he called "decorative painting." He had invented, -he informed us, a new mixture to moisten paint with, which he -described as a "vehicle." What it was made of, I don't know. -What it did, I can tell you in two words--it stank. -Miss Rachel being wild to try her hand at the new process, -Mr. Franklin sent to London for the materials; mixed them up, -with accompaniment of a smell which made the very dogs sneeze -when they came into the room; put an apron and a bib over -Miss Rachel's gown, and set her to work decorating her own -little sitting-room--called, for want of English to name it in, -her "boudoir." They began with the inside of the door. -Mr. Franklin scraped off all the nice varnish with pumice-stone, -and made what he described as a surface to work on. -Miss Rachel then covered the surface, under his directions -and with his help, with patterns and devices--griffins, birds, -flowers, cupids, and such like--copied from designs made -by a famous Italian painter, whose name escapes me: -the one, I mean, who stocked the world with Virgin Maries, -and had a sweetheart at the baker's. Viewed as work, -this decoration was slow to do, and dirty to deal with. -But our young lady and gentleman never seemed to tire of it. -When they were not riding, or seeing company, or taking their meals, -or piping their songs, there they were with their heads together, -as busy as bees, spoiling the door. Who was the poet who said -that Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do? -If he had occupied my place in the family, and had seen Miss -Rachel with her brush, and Mr. Franklin with his vehicle, -he could have written nothing truer of either of them than -that. - - - -The next date worthy of notice is Sunday the fourth of June. - -On that evening we, in the servants' hall, debated a domestic -question for the first time, which, like the decoration of the door, -has its bearing on something that is still to come. - -Seeing the pleasure which Mr. Franklin and Miss Rachel took -in each other's society, and noting what a pretty match -they were in all personal respects, we naturally speculated -on the chance of their putting their heads together with -other objects in view besides the ornamenting of a door. -Some of us said there would be a wedding in the house before -the summer was over. Others (led by me) admitted it was -likely enough Miss Rachel might be married; but we doubted -(for reasons which will presently appear) whether her bridegroom -would be Mr. Franklin Blake. - -That Mr. Franklin was in love, on his side, nobody who saw and heard -him could doubt. The difficulty was to fathom Miss Rachel. -Let me do myself the honour of making you acquainted with her; -after which, I will leave you to fathom for yourself-- -if you can. - -My young lady's eighteenth birthday was the birthday now coming, -on the twenty-first of June. If you happen to like dark women -(who, I am informed, have gone out of fashion latterly in the gay -world), and if you have no particular prejudice in favour of size, -I answer for Miss Rachel as one of the prettiest girls your eyes -ever looked on. She was small and slim, but all in fine proportion -from top to toe. To see her sit down, to see her get up, -and specially to see her walk, was enough to satisfy any man -in his senses that the graces of her figure (if you will pardon -me the expression) were in her flesh and not in her clothes. -Her hair was the blackest I ever saw. Her eyes matched her hair. -Her nose was not quite large enough, I admit. Her mouth and chin were -(to quote Mr. Franklin) morsels for the gods; and her complexion -(on the same undeniable authority) was as warm as the sun itself, -with this great advantage over the sun, that it was always in nice -order to look at. Add to the foregoing that she carried her head -as upright as a dart, in a dashing, spirited, thoroughbred way-- -that she had a clear voice, with a ring of the right metal in it, -and a smile that began very prettily in her eyes before it got to her lips-- -and there behold the portrait of her, to the best of my painting, as large -as life! - -And what about her disposition next? Had this charming creature no faults? -She had just as many faults as you have, ma'am--neither more nor less. - -To put it seriously, my dear pretty Miss Rachel, -possessing a host of graces and attractions, had one defect, -which strict impartiality compels me to acknowledge. -She was unlike most other girls of her age, in this--that she had -ideas of her own, and was stiff-necked enough to set the fashions -themselves at defiance, if the fashions didn't suit her views. -In trifles, this independence of hers was all well enough; -but in matters of importance, it carried her (as my lady thought, -and as I thought) too far. She judged for herself, as few women -of twice her age judge in general; never asked your advice; -never told you beforehand what she was going to do; -never came with secrets and confidences to anybody, from her -mother downwards. In little things and great, with people -she loved, and people she hated (and she did both with equal -heartiness), Miss Rachel always went on a way of her own, -sufficient for herself in the joys and sorrows of her life. -Over and over again I have heard my lady say, "Rachel's best -friend and Rachel's worst enemy are, one and the other-- -Rachel herself." - -Add one thing more to this, and I have done. - -With all her secrecy, and self-will, there was not so much as the shadow -of anything false in her. I never remember her breaking her word; -I never remember her saying No, and meaning Yes. I can call to mind, -in her childhood, more than one occasion when the good little soul -took the blame, and suffered the punishment, for some fault committed -by a playfellow whom she loved. Nobody ever knew her to confess to it, -when the thing was found out, and she was charged with it afterwards. -But nobody ever knew her to lie about it, either. She looked you -straight in the face, and shook her little saucy head, and said plainly, -"I won't tell you!" Punished again for this, she would own to being -sorry for saying "won't;" but, bread and water notwithstanding, -she never told you. Self-willed--devilish self-willed sometimes--I grant; -but the finest creature, nevertheless, that ever walked the ways of this -lower world. Perhaps you think you see a certain contradiction here? -In that case, a word in your ear. Study your wife closely, for the next -four-and-twenty hours. If your good lady doesn't exhibit something in -the shape of a contradiction in that time, Heaven help you!--you have married -a monster. - - - -I have now brought you acquainted with Miss Rachel, which you will find -puts us face to face, next, with the question of that young lady's -matrimonial views. - -On June the twelfth, an invitation from my mistress was sent to a -gentleman in London, to come and help to keep Miss Rachel's birthday. -This was the fortunate individual on whom I believed her heart -to be privately set! Like Mr. Franklin, he was a cousin of hers. -His name was Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. - -My lady's second sister (don't be alarmed; we are not going very deep -into family matters this time)--my lady's second sister, I say, -had a disappointment in love; and taking a husband afterwards, -on the neck or nothing principle, made what they call a misalliance. -There was terrible work in the family when the Honourable Caroline -insisted on marrying plain Mr. Ablewhite, the banker at Frizinghall. -He was very rich and very respectable, and he begot a prodigious -large family--all in his favour, so far. But he had presumed -to raise himself from a low station in the world--and that was -against him. However, Time and the progress of modern enlightenment -put things right; and the mis-alliance passed muster very well. -We are all getting liberal now; and (provided you can scratch me, -if I scratch you) what do I care, in or out of Parliament, -whether you are a Dustman or a Duke? That's the modern way of -looking at it--and I keep up with the modern way. The Ablewhites -lived in a fine house and grounds, a little out of Frizinghall. -Very worthy people, and greatly respected in the neighbourhood. -We shall not be much troubled with them in these pages-- -excepting Mr. Godfrey, who was Mr. Ablewhite's second son, and who -must take his proper place here, if you please, for Miss Rachel's -sake. - -With all his brightness and cleverness and general good qualities, -Mr. Franklin's chance of topping Mr. Godfrey in our young lady's -estimation was, in my opinion, a very poor chance indeed. - -In the first place, Mr. Godfrey was, in point of size, -the finest man by far of the two. He stood over six feet high; -he had a beautiful red and white colour; a smooth round face, -shaved as bare as your hand; and a head of lovely long -flaxen hair, falling negligently over the poll of his neck. -But why do I try to give you this personal description of him? -If you ever subscribed to a Ladies' Charity in London, -you know Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite as well as I do. -He was a barrister by profession; a ladies' man by temperament; -and a good Samaritan by choice. Female benevolence and female -destitution could do nothing without him. Maternal societies for -confining poor women; Magdalen societies for rescuing poor women; -strong-minded societies for putting poor women into poor -men's places, and leaving the men to shift for themselves;-- -he was vice-president, manager, referee to them all. -Wherever there was a table with a committee of ladies sitting round -it in council there was Mr. Godfrey at the bottom of the board, -keeping the temper of the committee, and leading the dear -creatures along the thorny ways of business, hat in hand. -I do suppose this was the most accomplished philanthropist -(on a small independence) that England ever produced. -As a speaker at charitable meetings the like of him for -drawing your tears and your money was not easy to find. -He was quite a public character. The last time I was in London, -my mistress gave me two treats. She sent me to the theatre -to see a dancing woman who was all the rage; and she sent -me to Exeter Hall to hear Mr. Godfrey. The lady did it, -with a band of music. The gentleman did it, with a handkerchief -and a glass of water. Crowds at the performance with the legs. -Ditto at the performance with the tongue. And with all this, -the sweetest tempered person (I allude to Mr. Godfrey)-- -the simplest and pleasantest and easiest to please--you ever -met with. He loved everybody. And everybody loved HIM. -What chance had Mr. Franklin--what chance had anybody -of average reputation and capacities--against such a man as -this? - - - -On the fourteenth, came Mr. Godfrey's answer. - -He accepted my mistress's invitation, from the Wednesday -of the birthday to the evening of Friday--when his duties -to the Ladies' Charities would oblige him to return to town. -He also enclosed a copy of verses on what he elegantly called -his cousin's "natal day." Miss Rachel, I was informed, -joined Mr. Franklin in making fun of the verses at dinner; -and Penelope, who was all on Mr. Franklin's side, asked me, -in great triumph, what I thought of that. "Miss Rachel has led -you off on a false scent, my dear," I replied; "but MY nose is -not so easily mystified. Wait till Mr. Ablewhite's verses are -followed by Mr. Ablewhite himself." - -My daughter replied, that Mr. Franklin might strike in, -and try his luck, before the verses were followed by the poet. -In favour of this view, I must acknowledge that Mr. Franklin left -no chance untried of winning Miss Rachel's good graces. - -Though one of the most inveterate smokers I ever met with, -he gave up his cigar, because she said, one day, she hated -the stale smell of it in his clothes. He slept so badly, -after this effort of self-denial, for want of the composing -effect of the tobacco to which he was used, and came down -morning after morning looking so haggard and worn, that Miss -Rachel herself begged him to take to his cigars again. -No! he would take to nothing again that could cause here -a moment's annoyance; he would fight it out resolutely, -and get back his sleep, sooner or later, by main force of -patience in waiting for it. Such devotion as this, you may say -(as some of them said downstairs), could never fail of producing -the right effect on Miss Rachel--backed up, too, as it was, -by the decorating work every day on the door. All very well-- -but she had a photograph of Mr. Godfrey in her bed-room; -represented speaking at a public meeting, with all his hair -blown out by the breath of his own eloquence, and his eyes, -most lovely, charming the money out of your pockets. What do you -say to that? Every morning--as Penelope herself owned to me-- -there was the man whom the women couldn't do without, looking on, -in effigy, while Miss Rachel was having her hair combed. -He would be looking on, in reality, before long--that was my opinion -of it. - - - -June the sixteenth brought an event which made Mr. Franklin's chance look, -to my mind, a worse chance than ever. - -A strange gentleman, speaking English with a foreign accent, -came that morning to the house, and asked to see Mr. Franklin Blake -on business. The business could not possibly have been connected -with the Diamond, for these two reasons--first, that Mr. Franklin -told me nothing about it; secondly, that he communicated it -(when the gentleman had gone, as I suppose) to my lady. -She probably hinted something about it next to her daughter. -At any rate, Miss Rachel was reported to have said some -severe things to Mr. Franklin, at the piano that evening, -about the people he had lived among, and the principles he had -adopted in foreign parts. The next day, for the first time, -nothing was done towards the decoration of the door. -I suspect some imprudence of Mr. Franklin's on the Continent-- -with a woman or a debt at the bottom of it--had followed -him to England. But that is all guesswork. In this case, -not only Mr. Franklin, but my lady too, for a wonder, left me in -the dark. - - - -On the seventeenth, to all appearance, the cloud passed away again. -They returned to their decorating work on the door, and seemed -to be as good friends as ever. If Penelope was to be believed, -Mr. Franklin had seized the opportunity of the reconciliation to make -an offer to Miss Rachel, and had neither been accepted nor refused. -My girl was sure (from signs and tokens which I need not trouble you with) -that her young mistress had fought Mr. Franklin off by declining -to believe that he was in earnest, and had then secretly regretted -treating him in that way afterwards. Though Penelope was admitted -to more familiarity with her young mistress than maids generally are-- -for the two had been almost brought up together as children--still I -knew Miss Rachel's reserved character too well to believe that she -would show her mind to anybody in this way. What my daughter told me, -on the present occasion, was, as I suspected, more what she wished than -what she really knew. - - - -On the nineteenth another event happened. We had the doctor -in the house professionally. He was summoned to prescribe for a -person whom I have had occasion to present to you in these pages-- -our second housemaid, Rosanna Spearman. - -This poor girl--who had puzzled me, as you know already, -at the Shivering Sand--puzzled me more than once again, -in the interval time of which I am now writing. Penelope's notion -that her fellow-servant was in love with Mr. Franklin -(which my daughter, by my orders, kept strictly secret) -seemed to be just as absurd as ever. But I must own that what I -myself saw, and what my daughter saw also, of our second -housemaid's conduct, began to look mysterious, to say the least -of it. - -For example, the girl constantly put herself in Mr. Franklin's way--very slyly -and quietly, but she did it. He took about as much notice of her as he took -of the cat; it never seemed to occur to him to waste a look on Rosanna's -plain face. The poor thing's appetite, never much, fell away dreadfully; -and her eyes in the morning showed plain signs of waking and crying at night. -One day Penelope made an awkward discovery, which we hushed up on the spot. -She caught Rosanna at Mr. Franklin's dressing-table, secretly removing -a rose which Miss Rachel had given him to wear in his button-hole, and -putting another rose like it, of her own picking, in its place. She was, -after that, once or twice impudent to me, when I gave her a well-meant -general hint to be careful in her conduct; and, worse still, she was not -over-respectful now, on the few occasions when Miss Rachel accidentally spoke -to her. - -My lady noticed the change, and asked me what I thought about it. I tried -to screen the girl by answering that I thought she was out of health; and it -ended in the doctor being sent for, as already mentioned, on the nineteenth. -He said it was her nerves, and doubted if she was fit for service. -My lady offered to remove her for change of air to one of our farms, inland. -She begged and prayed, with the tears in her eyes, to be let to stop; -and, in an evil hour, I advised my lady to try her for a little longer. -As the event proved, and as you will soon see, this was the worst advice I -could have given. If I could only have looked a little way into the future, -I would have taken Rosanna Spearman out of the house, then and there, with my -own hand. - -On the twentieth, there came a note from Mr. Godfrey. He had arranged to stop -at Frizinghall that night, having occasion to consult his father on business. -On the afternoon of the next day, he and his two eldest sisters would ride -over to us on horseback, in good time before dinner. An elegant little -casket in China accompanied the note, presented to Miss Rachel, with her -cousin's love and best wishes. Mr. Franklin had only given her a plain -locket not worth half the money. My daughter Penelope, nevertheless--such is -the obstinacy of women--still backed him to win. - -Thanks be to Heaven, we have arrived at the eve of the birthday at last! -You will own, I think, that I have got you over the ground this time, -without much loitering by the way. Cheer up! I'll ease you with another -new chapter here--and, what is more, that chapter shall take you straight -into the thick of the story. - - - - CHAPTER IX - - - -June twenty-first, the day of the birthday, was cloudy and unsettled -at sunrise, but towards noon it cleared up bravely. - -We, in the servants' hall, began this happy anniversary, -as usual, by offering our little presents to Miss Rachel, -with the regular speech delivered annually by me as the chief. -I follow the plan adopted by the Queen in opening Parliament-- -namely, the plan of saying much the same thing regularly every year. -Before it is delivered, my speech (like the Queen's) -is looked for as eagerly as if nothing of the kind had ever -been heard before. When it is delivered, and turns out not -to be the novelty anticipated, though they grumble a little, -they look forward hopefully to something newer next year. -An easy people to govern, in the Parliament and in the Kitchen-- -that's the moral of it. After breakfast, Mr. Franklin and I -had a private conference on the subject of the Moonstone-- -the time having now come for removing it from the bank -at Frizinghall, and placing it in Miss Rachel's -own hands. - -Whether he had been trying to make love to his cousin again, -and had got a rebuff--or whether his broken rest, night after night, -was aggravating the queer contradictions and uncertainties in -his character--I don't know. But certain it is, that Mr. Franklin -failed to show himself at his best on the morning of the birthday. -He was in twenty different minds about the Diamond in as many minutes. -For my part, I stuck fast by the plain facts a we knew them. -Nothing had happened to justify us in alarming my lady on the subject -of the jewel; and nothing could alter the legal obligation that -now lay on Mr. Franklin to put it in his cousin's possession. -That was my view of the matter; and, twist and turn it as -he might, he was forced in the end to make it his view too. -We arranged that he was to ride over, after lunch, to Frizinghall, -and bring the Diamond back, with Mr. Godfrey and the two -young ladies, in all probability, to keep him company on the way -home again. - -This settled, our young gentleman went back to Miss Rachel. - -They consumed the whole morning, and part of the afternoon, -in the everlasting business of decorating the door, -Penelope standing by to mix the colours, as directed; and my lady, -as luncheon time drew near, going in and out of the room, -with her handkerchief to her nose (for they used a deal -of Mr. Franklin's vehicle that day), and trying vainly to get -the two artists away from their work. It was three o'clock -before they took off their aprons, and released Penelope -(much the worse for the vehicle), and cleaned themselves of -their mess. But they had done what they wanted--they had finished -the door on the birthday, and proud enough they were of it. -The griffins, cupids, and so on, were, I must own, most beautiful -to behold; though so many in number, so entangled in flowers -and devices, and so topsy-turvy in their actions and attitudes, -that you felt them unpleasantly in your head for hours -after you had done with the pleasure of looking at them. -If I add that Penelope ended her part of the morning's work -by being sick in the back-kitchen, it is in no unfriendly -spirit towards the vehicle. No! no! It left off stinking -when it dried; and if Art requires these sort of sacrifices-- -though the girl is my own daughter--I say, let Art -have them! - -Mr. Franklin snatched a morsel from the luncheon-table, and rode -off to Frizinghall--to escort his cousins, as he told my lady. -To fetch the Moonstone, as was privately known to himself and -to me. - -This being one of the high festivals on which I took my place -at the side-board, in command of the attendance at table, -I had plenty to occupy my mind while Mr. Franklin was away. -Having seen to the wine, and reviewed my men and women who -were to wait at dinner, I retired to collect myself before -the company came. A whiff of--you know what, and a turn at a -certain book which I have had occasion to mention in these pages, -composed me, body and mind. I was aroused from what I am -inclined to think must have been, not a nap, but a reverie, -by the clatter of horses' hoofs outside; and, going to the door, -received a cavalcade comprising Mr. Franklin and his three cousins, -escorted by one of old Mr. Ablewhite's grooms. - -Mr. Godfrey struck me, strangely enough, as being like Mr. Franklin -in this respect--that he did not seem to be in his customary spirits. -He kindly shook hands with me as usual, and was most politely glad -to see his old friend Betteredge wearing so well. But there was a sort -of cloud over him, which I couldn't at all account for; and when I asked -how he had found his father in health, he answered rather shortly, -"Much as usual." However, the two Miss Ablewhites were cheerful enough -for twenty, which more than restored the balance. They were nearly as big -as their brother; spanking, yellow-haired, rosy lasses, overflowing with -super-abundant flesh and blood; bursting from head to foot with health -and spirits. The legs of the poor horses trembled with carrying them; -and when they jumped from their saddles (without waiting to be helped), I -declare they bounced on the ground as if they were made of india-rubber. -Everything the Miss Ablewhites said began with a large O; everything they -did was done with a bang; and they giggled and screamed, in season -and out of season, on the smallest provocation. Bouncers--that's what I -call them. - -Under cover of the noise made by the young ladies, I had an opportunity -of saying a private word to Mr. Franklin in the hall. - -"Have you got the Diamond safe, sir?" - -He nodded, and tapped the breast-pocket of his coat. - -"Have you seen anything of the Indians?" - -"Not a glimpse." With that answer, he asked for my lady, and, -hearing she was in the small drawing-room, went there straight. -The bell rang, before he had been a minute in the room, and Penelope -was sent to tell Miss Rachel that Mr. Franklin Blake wanted to speak -to her. - -Crossing the hall, about half an hour afterwards, I was brought -to a sudden standstill by an outbreak of screams from the small -drawing-room. I can't say I was at all alarmed; for I recognised -in the screams the favourite large O of the Miss Ablewhites. -However, I went in (on pretence of asking for instructions about -the dinner) to discover whether anything serious had really happened. - -There stood Miss Rachel at the table, like a person fascinated, -with the Colonel's unlucky Diamond in her hand. There, on either side -of her, knelt the two Bouncers, devouring the jewel with their eyes, -and screaming with ecstasy every time it flashed on them in a new light. -There, at the opposite side of the table, stood Mr. Godfrey, clapping his -hands like a large child, and singing out softly, "Exquisite! exquisite!" -There sat Mr. Franklin in a chair by the book-case, tugging at his beard, -and looking anxiously towards the window. And there, at the window, -stood the object he was contemplating--my lady, having the extract from -the Colonel's Will in her hand, and keeping her back turned on the whole of -the company. - -She faced me, when I asked for my instructions; and I saw the family frown -gathering over her eyes, and the family temper twitching at the corners -of her mouth. - -"Come to my room in half an hour," she answered. "I shall -have something to say to you then." - -With those words she went out. It was plain enough that she was posed -by the same difficulty which had posed Mr. Franklin and me in our -conference at the Shivering Sand. Was the legacy of the Moonstone -a proof that she had treated her brother with cruel injustice? or was it -a proof that he was worse than the worst she had ever thought of him? -Serious questions those for my lady to determine, while her daughter, -innocent of all knowledge of the Colonel's character, stood there with -the Colonel's birthday gift in her hand. - -Before I could leave the room in my turn, Miss Rachel, always considerate -to the old servant who had been in the house when she was born, stopped me. -"Look, Gabriel!" she said, and flashed the jewel before my eyes in a ray of -sunlight that poured through the window. - -Lord bless us! it WAS a Diamond! As large, or nearly, as a plover's egg! -The light that streamed from it was like the light of the harvest moon. -When you looked down into the stone, you looked into a yellow -deep that drew your eyes into it so that they saw nothing else. -It seemed unfathomable; this jewel, that you could hold between your -finger and thumb, seemed unfathomable as the heavens themselves. -We set it in the sun, and then shut the light out of the room, -and it shone awfully out of the depths of its own brightness, -with a moony gleam, in the dark. No wonder Miss Rachel was fascinated: -no wonder her cousins screamed. The Diamond laid such a hold on ME -that I burst out with as large an "O" as the Bouncers themselves. -The only one of us who kept his senses was Mr. Godfrey. -He put an arm round each of his sister's waists, and, looking -compassionately backwards and forwards between the Diamond -and me, said, "Carbon Betteredge! mere carbon, my good friend, -after all!" - -His object, I suppose, was to instruct me. All he did, however, was to -remind me of the dinner. I hobbled off to my army of waiters downstairs. -As I went out, Mr. Godfrey said, "Dear old Betteredge, I have the truest -regard for him!" He was embracing his sisters, and ogling Miss Rachel, -while he honoured me with that testimony of affection. Something like -a stock of love to draw on THERE! Mr. Franklin was a perfect savage by -comparison with him. - -At the end of half an hour, I presented myself, as directed, -in my lady's room. - -What passed between my mistress and me, on this occasion, was, -in the main, a repetition of what had passed between Mr. Franklin -and me at the Shivering Sand--with this difference, that I took -care to keep my own counsel about the jugglers, seeing that nothing -had happened to justify me in alarming my lady on this head. -When I received my dismissal, I could see that she took the blackest -view possible of the Colonel's motives, and that she was bent on getting -the Moonstone out of her daughter's possession at the first opportunity. - -On my way back to my own part of the house, I was encountered by -Mr. Franklin. He wanted to know if I had seen anything of his cousin Rachel. -I had seen nothing of her. Could I tell him where his cousin Godfrey was? -I didn't know; but I began to suspect that cousin Godfrey might not be -far away from cousin Rachel. Mr. Franklin's suspicions apparently took -the same turn. He tugged hard at his beard, and went and shut himself -up in the library with a bang of the door that had a world of meaning -in it. - -I was interrupted no more in the business of preparing for the birthday dinner -till it was time for me to smarten myself up for receiving the company. -Just as I had got my white waistcoat on, Penelope presented herself -at my toilet, on pretence of brushing what little hair I have got left, -and improving the tie of my white cravat. My girl was in high spirits, -and I saw she had something to say to me. She gave me a kiss on the top -of my bald head, and whispered, "News for you, father! Miss Rachel has -refused him." - -"Who's 'HIM'?" I asked. - -"The ladies' committee-man, father," says Penelope. "A nasty sly fellow! -I hate him for trying to supplant Mr. Franklin!" - -If I had had breath enough, I should certainly have protested against -this indecent way of speaking of an eminent philanthropic character. -But my daughter happened to be improving the tie of my cravat at that moment, -and the whole strength of her feelings found its way into her fingers. -I never was more nearly strangled in my life. - -"I saw him take her away alone into the rose-garden," says Penelope. -"And I waited behind the holly to see how they came back. -They had gone out arm-in-arm, both laughing. They came back, -walking separate, as grave as grave could be, and looking straight -away from each other in a manner which there was no mistaking. -I never was more delighted, father, in my life! There's one woman -in the world who can resist Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, at any rate; and, if I -was a lady, I should be another!" - -Here I should have protested again. But my daughter had got the hair-brush -by this time, and the whole strength of her feelings had passed into THAT. -If you are bald, you will understand how she sacrificed me. If you are not, -skip this bit, and thank God you have got something in the way of a defence -between your hair-brush and your head. - -"Just on the other side of the holly," Penelope went on, -"Mr. Godfrey came to a standstill. 'You prefer,' says he, -'that I should stop here as if nothing had happened?' -Miss Rachel turned on him like lightning. 'You have accepted my -mother's invitation,' she said; 'and you are here to meet her guests. -Unless you wish to make a scandal in the house, you will remain, -of course!' She went on a few steps, and then seemed to relent -a little. 'Let us forget what has passed, Godfrey,' she said, -'and let us remain cousins still.' She gave him her hand. -He kissed it, which I should have considered taking a liberty, -and then she left him. He waited a little by himself, -with his head down, and his heel grinding a hole slowly -in the gravel walk; you never saw a man look more put -out in your life. 'Awkward!' he said between his teeth, -when he looked up, and went on to the house--'very awkward!' -If that was his opinion of himself, he was quite right. -Awkward enough, I'm sure. And the end of it is, father, what I -told you all along," cries Penelope, finishing me off with -a last scarification, the hottest of all. "Mr. Franklin's -the man!" - -I got possession of the hair-brush, and opened my lips to administer -the reproof which, you will own, my daughter's language and conduct -richly deserved. - -Before I could say a word, the crash of carriage-wheels outside -struck in, and stopped me. The first of the dinner-company had come. -Penelope instantly ran off. I put on my coat, and looked in the glass. -My head was as red as a lobster; but, in other respects, I was as -nicely dressed for the ceremonies of the evening as a man need be. -I got into the hall just in time to announce the two first of the guests. -You needn't feel particularly interested about them. Only the -philanthropist's father and mother--Mr. and Mrs. Ablewhite. - - - -CHAPTER X - - - -One on the top of the other the rest of the company followed -the Ablewhites, till we had the whole tale of them complete. -Including the family, they were twenty-four in all. -It was a noble sight to see, when they were settled in their -places round the dinner-table, and the Rector of Frizinghall -(with beautiful elocution) rose and said grace. - -There is no need to worry you with a list of the guests. -You will meet none of them a second time--in my part of the story, -at any rate--with the exception of two. - -Those two sat on either side of Miss Rachel, who, as queen -of the day, was naturally the great attraction of the party. -On this occasion she was more particularly the centre-point -towards which everybody's eyes were directed; for (to my lady's -secret annoyance) she wore her wonderful birthday present, -which eclipsed all the rest--the Moonstone. It was -without any setting when it had been placed in her hands; -but that universal genius, Mr. Franklin, had contrived, -with the help of his neat fingers and a little bit of silver wire, -to fix it as a brooch in the bosom of her white dress. -Everybody wondered at the prodigious size and beauty of the Diamond, -as a matter of course. But the only two of the company who said -anything out of the common way about it were those two guests -I have mentioned, who sat by Miss Rachel on her right hand and -her left. - -The guest on her left was Mr. Candy, our doctor at Frizinghall. - -This was a pleasant, companionable little man, with the drawback, however, -I must own, of being too fond, in season and out of season, of his joke, -and of his plunging in rather a headlong manner into talk with strangers, -without waiting to feel his way first. In society he was constantly -making mistakes, and setting people unintentionally by the ears together. -In his medical practice he was a more prudent man; picking up his discretion -(as his enemies said) by a kind of instinct, and proving to be generally right -where more carefully conducted doctors turned out to be wrong. - -What HE said about the Diamond to Miss Rachel was said, as usual, -by way of a mystification or joke. He gravely entreated her -(in the interests of science) to let him take it home and burn it. -"We will first heat it, Miss Rachel," says the doctor, "to such -and such a degree; then we will expose it to a current of air; -and, little by little--puff!--we evaporate the Diamond, and spare you -a world of anxiety about the safe keeping of a valuable precious stone!" -My lady, listening with rather a careworn expression on her face, -seemed to wish that the doctor had been in earnest, and that he could -have found Miss Rachel zealous enough in the cause of science to sacrifice -her birthday gift. - -The other guest, who sat on my young lady's right hand, was an eminent -public character--being no other than the celebrated Indian traveller, -Mr. Murthwaite, who, at risk of his life, had penetrated in disguise -where no European had ever set foot before. - -This was a long, lean, wiry, brown, silent man. He had a weary look, -and a very steady, attentive eye. It was rumoured that he was tired -of the humdrum life among the people in our parts, and longing to go -back and wander off on the tramp again in the wild places of the East. -Except what he said to Miss Rachel about her jewel, I doubt if he spoke six -words or drank so much as a single glass of wine, all through the dinner. -The Moonstone was the only object that interested him in the smallest degree. -The fame of it seemed to have reached him, in some of those perilous -Indian places where his wanderings had lain. After looking at it -silently for so long a time that Miss Rachel began to get confused, -he said to her in his cool immovable way, "If you ever go to India, -Miss Verinder, don't take your uncle's birthday gift with you. A Hindoo -diamond is sometimes part of a Hindoo religion. I know a certain city, -and a certain temple in that city, where, dressed as you are now, -your life would not be worth five minutes' purchase." Miss Rachel, -safe in England, was quite delighted to hear of her danger in India. -The Bouncers were more delighted still; they dropped their knives -and forks with a crash, and burst out together vehemently, -"O! how interesting!" My lady fidgeted in her chair, and changed -the subject. - -As the dinner got on, I became aware, little by little, -that this festival was not prospering as other like festivals -had prospered before it. - -Looking back at the birthday now, by the light of what happened afterwards, -I am half inclined to think that the cursed Diamond must have cast -a blight on the whole company. I plied them well with wine; -and being a privileged character, followed the unpopular dishes -round the table, and whispered to the company confidentially, -"Please to change your mind and try it; for I know it will do you good." -Nine times out of ten they changed their minds--out of regard -for their old original Betteredge, they were pleased to say-- -but all to no purpose. There were gaps of silence in the talk, -as the dinner got on, that made me feel personally uncomfortable. -When they did use their tongues again, they used them innocently, -in the most unfortunate manner and to the worst possible purpose. -Mr. Candy, the doctor, for instance, said more unlucky things than I ever -knew him to say before. Take one sample of the way in which he went on, -and you will understand what I had to put up with at the sideboard, -officiating as I was in the character of a man who had the prosperity -of the festival at heart. - -One of our ladies present at dinner was worthy Mrs. Threadgall, -widow of the late Professor of that name. Talking of her deceased -husband perpetually, this good lady never mentioned to strangers -that he WAS deceased. She thought, I suppose, that every -able-bodied adult in England ought to know as much as that. -In one of the gaps of silence, somebody mentioned the dry -and rather nasty subject of human anatomy; whereupon good -Mrs. Threadgall straightway brought in her late husband as usual, -without mentioning that he was dead. Anatomy she described -as the Professor's favourite recreation in his leisure hours. -As ill-luck would have it, Mr. Candy, sitting opposite -(who knew nothing of the deceased gentleman), heard her. -Being the most polite of men, he seized the opportunity -of assisting the Professor's anatomical amusements on -the spot. - -"They have got some remarkably fine skeletons lately at the College -of Surgeons," says Mr. Candy, across the table, in a loud cheerful voice. -"I strongly recommend the Professor, ma'am, when he next has an hour to spare, -to pay them a visit." - -You might have heard a pin fall. The company (out of respect -to the Professor's memory) all sat speechless. I was behind -Mrs. Threadgall at the time, plying her confidentially with a glass -of hock. She dropped her head, and said in a very low voice, -"My beloved husband is no more." - -Unluckily Mr. Candy, hearing nothing, and miles away from suspecting -the truth, went on across the table louder and politer than ever. - - -"The Professor may not be aware," says he, "that the card of a member -of the College will admit him, on any day but Sunday, between the hours -of ten and four." - -Mrs. Threadgall dropped her head right into her tucker, and, in a lower -voice still, repeated the solemn words, "My beloved husband is no more." - -I winked hard at Mr. Candy across the table. Miss Rachel touched his arm. -My lady looked unutterable things at him. Quite useless! On he went, -with a cordiality that there was no stopping anyhow. "I shall be delighted," -says he, "to send the Professor my card, if you will oblige me by mentioning -his present address." - -"His present address, sir, is THE GRAVE," says Mrs. Threadgall, -suddenly losing her temper, and speaking with an emphasis and fury -that made the glasses ring again. "The Professor has been dead -these ten years." - -"Oh, good heavens!" says Mr. Candy. Excepting the Bouncers, -who burst out laughing, such a blank now fell on the company, -that they might all have been going the way of the Professor, -and hailing as he did from the direction of the grave. - -So much for Mr. Candy. The rest of them were nearly as -provoking in their different ways as the doctor himself. -When they ought to have spoken, they didn't speak; -or when they did speak they were perpetually at cross purposes. -Mr. Godfrey, though so eloquent in public, declined to exert himself -in private. Whether he was sulky, or whether he was bashful, -after his discomfiture in the rose-garden, I can't say. -He kept all his talk for the private ear of the lady -(a member of our family) who sat next to him. She was -one of his committee-women--a spiritually-minded person, -with a fine show of collar-bone and a pretty taste in champagne; -liked it dry, you understand, and plenty of it. -Being close behind these two at the sideboard, I can testify, -from what I heard pass between them, that the company lost -a good deal of very improving conversation, which I caught up -while drawing the corks, and carving the mutton, and so forth. -What they said about their Charities I didn't hear. -When I had time to listen to them, they had got a long way beyond -their women to be confined, and their women to be rescued, -and were disputing on serious subjects. Religion (I understand -Mr. Godfrey to say, between the corks and the carving) meant love. -And love meant religion. And earth was heaven a little the worse -for wear. And heaven was earth, done up again to look like new. -Earth had some very objectionable people in it; but, to make -amends for that, all the women in heaven would be members of a -prodigious committee that never quarrelled, with all the men in -attendance on them as ministering angels. Beautiful! beautiful! -But why the mischief did Mr. Godfrey keep it all to his lady -and himself? - -Mr. Franklin again--surely, you will say, Mr. Franklin stirred the company -up into making a pleasant evening of it? - -Nothing of the sort! He had quite recovered himself, and he was in -wonderful force and spirits, Penelope having informed him, I suspect, -of Mr. Godfrey's reception in the rose-garden. But, talk as he might, -nine times out of ten he pitched on the wrong subject, or he addressed -himself to the wrong person; the end of it being that he offended some, -and puzzled all of them. That foreign training of his--those French -and German and Italian sides of him, to which I have already alluded-- -came out, at my lady's hospitable board, in a most bewildering manner. - -What do you think, for instance, of his discussing the lengths -to which a married woman might let her admiration go for a man -who was not her husband, and putting it in his clear-headed witty -French way to the maiden aunt of the Vicar of Frizinghall? -What do you think, when he shifted to the German side, -of his telling the lord of the manor, while that great authority -on cattle was quoting his experience in the breeding of bulls, -that experience, properly understood counted for nothing, and that -the proper way to breed bulls was to look deep into your own mind, -evolve out of it the idea of a perfect bull, and produce him? -What do you say, when our county member, growing hot, at cheese -and salad time, about the spread of democracy in England, -burst out as follows: "If we once lose our ancient safeguards, -Mr. Blake, I beg to ask you, what have we got left?"--what do you -say to Mr. Franklin answering, from the Italian point of view: -"We have got three things left, sir--Love, Music, and Salad"? -He not only terrified the company with such outbreaks as these, -but, when the English side of him turned up in due course, -he lost his foreign smoothness; and, getting on the subject -of the medical profession, said such downright things in ridicule -of doctors, that he actually put good-humoured little Mr. Candy in -a rage. - -The dispute between them began in Mr. Franklin being led--I forget how-- -to acknowledge that he had latterly slept very badly at night. -Mr. Candy thereupon told him that his nerves were all out of order -and that he ought to go through a course of medicine immediately. -Mr. Franklin replied that a course of medicine, and a course of groping -in the dark, meant, in his estimation, one and the same thing. -Mr. Candy, hitting back smartly, said that Mr Franklin himself was, -constitutionally speaking, groping in the dark after sleep, -and that nothing but medicine could help him to find it. -Mr. Franklin, keeping the ball up on his side, said he had often -heard of the blind leading the blind, and now, for the first time, -he knew what it meant. In this way, they kept it going briskly, -cut and thrust, till they both of them got hot--Mr. Candy, -in particular, so completely losing his self-control, in defence -of his profession, that my lady was obliged to interfere, -and forbid the dispute to go on. This necessary act of authority -put the last extinguisher on the spirits of the company. The talk -spurted up again here and there, for a minute or two at a time; -but there was a miserable lack of life and sparkle in it. The Devil -(or the Diamond) possessed that dinner-party; and it was a relief -to everybody when my mistress rose, and gave the ladies the signal -to leave the gentlemen over their wine. - - - -I had just ranged the decanters in a row before old Mr. Ablewhite -(who represented the master of the house), when there came -a sound from the terrace which, startled me out of my company -manners on the instant. Mr. Franklin and I looked at each other; -it was the sound of the Indian drum. As I live by bread, -here were the jugglers returning to us with the return of the -Moonstone to the house! - -As they rounded the corner of the terrace, and came -in sight, I hobbled out to warn them off. But, as ill-- -luck would have it, the two Bouncers were beforehand with me. -They whizzed out on to the terrace like a couple of skyrockets, -wild to see the Indians exhibit their tricks. The other -ladies followed; the gentlemen came out on their side. -Before you could say, "Lord bless us!" the rogues were making -their salaams; and the Bouncers were kissing the pretty -little boy. - -Mr. Franklin got on one side of Miss Rachel, and I put myself behind her. -If our suspicions were right, there she stood, innocent of all knowledge of -the truth, showing the Indians the Diamond in the bosom of her dress! - -I can't tell you what tricks they performed, or how they did it. -What with the vexation about the dinner, and what with the -provocation of the rogues coming back just in the nick of time -to see the jewel with their own eyes, I own I lost my head. -The first thing that I remember noticing was the sudden -appearance on the scene of the Indian traveller, Mr. Murthwaite. -Skirting the half-circle in which the gentlefolks stood or sat, -he came quietly behind the jugglers and spoke to them on a sudden in -the language of their own country. - -If he had pricked them with a bayonet, I doubt if the Indians could have -started and turned on him with a more tigerish quickness than they did, -on hearing the first words that passed his lips. The next moment they -were bowing and salaaming to him in their most polite and snaky way. -After a few words in the unknown tongue had passed on either side, -Mr. Murthwaite withdrew as quietly as he had approached. -The chief Indian, who acted as interpreter, thereupon wheeled about again -towards the gentlefolks. I noticed that the fellow's coffee-coloured -face had turned grey since Mr. Murthwaite had spoken to him. -He bowed to my lady, and informed her that the exhibition was over. -The Bouncers, indescribably disappointed, burst out with a loud -"O!" directed against Mr. Murthwaite for stopping the performance. -The chief Indian laid his hand humbly on his breast, and said a second -time that the juggling was over. The little boy went round with the hat. -The ladies withdrew to the drawing--room; and the gentlemen -(excepting Mr. Franklin and Mr. Murthwaite) returned to their wine. -I and the footman followed the Indians, and saw them safe off -the premises. - -Going back by way of the shrubbery, I smelt tobacco, and found -Mr. Franklin and Mr. Murthwaite (the latter smoking a cheroot) -walking slowly up and down among the trees. Mr. Franklin beckoned -to me to join them. - -"This," says Mr. Franklin, presenting me to the great traveller, -"is Gabriel Betteredge, the old servant and friend of our family -of whom I spoke to you just now. Tell him, if you please, what you -have just told me." - -Mr. Murthwaite took his cheroot out of his mouth, and leaned, -in his weary way, against the trunk of a tree. - -"Mr. Betteredge," he began, "those three Indians are no more jugglers -than you and I are." - -Here was a new surprise! I naturally asked the traveller if he had ever met -with the Indians before. - -"Never," says Mr. Murthwaite; "but I know what Indian -juggling really is. All you have seen to-night is a very bad -and clumsy imitation of it. Unless, after long experience, -I am utterly mistaken, those men are high-caste Brahmins. -I charged them with being disguised, and you saw how it told on them, -clever as the Hindoo people are in concealing their feelings. -There is a mystery about their conduct that I can't explain. -They have doubly sacrificed their caste--first, in crossing -the sea; secondly, in disguising themselves as jugglers. -In the land they live in that is a tremendous sacrifice to make. -There must be some very serious motive at the bottom of it, -and some justification of no ordinary kind to plead for them, -in recovery of their caste, when they return to their own -country." - -I was struck dumb. Mr. Murthwaite went on with his cheroot. -Mr. Franklin, after what looked to me like a little private -veering about between the different sides of his character, -broke the silence as follows: - -"I feel some hesitation, Mr. Murthwaite, in troubling you with family matters, -in which you can have no interest and which I am not very willing -to speak of out of our own circle. But, after what you have said, -I feel bound, in the interests of Lady Verinder and her daughter, -to tell you something which may possibly put the clue into your hands. -I speak to you in confidence; you will oblige me, I am sure, by not -forgetting that?" - -With this preface, he told the Indian traveller all that he had -told me at the Shivering Sand. Even the immovable Mr. Murthwaite -was so interested in what he heard, that he let his cheroot go out. - -"Now," says Mr. Franklin, when he had done, "what does your experience say?" - -"My experience," answered the traveller, "says that you have had more -narrow escapes of your life, Mr. Franklin Blake, than I have had of mine; -and that is saying a great deal." - -It was Mr. Franklin's turn to be astonished now. - -"Is it really as serious as that?" he asked. - -"In my opinion it is," answered Mr. Murthwaite. "I can't doubt, -after what you have told me, that the restoration of the Moonstone -to its place on the forehead of the Indian idol, is the motive and the -justification of that sacrifice of caste which I alluded to just now. -Those men will wait their opportunity with the patience of cats, -and will use it with the ferocity of tigers. How you have escaped -them I can't imagine," says the eminent traveller, lighting his -cheroot again, and staring hard at Mr. Franklin. "You have been -carrying the Diamond backwards and forwards, here and in London, -and you are still a living man! Let us try and account for it. -It was daylight, both times, I suppose, when you took the jewel out of -the bank in London?" - -"Broad daylight," says Mr. Franklin. - -"And plenty of people in the streets?" - -"Plenty." - -"You settled, of course, to arrive at Lady Verinder's house at a -certain time? It's a lonely country between this and the station. -Did you keep your appointment?" - -"No. I arrived four hours earlier than my appointment." - -"I beg to congratulate you on that proceeding! When did you take -the Diamond to the bank at the town here?" - -"I took it an hour after I had brought it to this house-- -and three hours before anybody was prepared for seeing me in -these parts." - -"I beg to congratulate you again! Did you bring it back here alone?" - -"No. I happened to ride back with my cousins and the groom." - -"I beg to congratulate you for the third time! If you ever -feel inclined to travel beyond the civilised limits, Mr. Blake, -let me know, and I will go with you. You are a lucky man." - -Here I struck in. This sort of thing didn't at all square -with my English ideas. - -"You don't really mean to say, sir," I asked, "that they -would have taken Mr. Franklin's life, to get their Diamond, -if he had given them the chance?" - -"Do you smoke, Mr. Betteredge?" says the traveller. - -"Yes, sir. - -"Do you care much for the ashes left in your pipe when you empty it?" - -"No, sir." - -"In the country those men came from, they care just as much about -killing a man, as you care about emptying the ashes out of your pipe. -If a thousand lives stood between them and the getting back of their Diamond-- -and if they thought they could destroy those lives without discovery-- -they would take them all. The sacrifice of caste is a serious thing in India, -if you like. The sacrifice of life is nothing at all." - -I expressed my opinion upon this, that they were a set of murdering thieves. -Mr. Murthwaite expressed HIS opinion that they were a wonderful people. -Mr. Franklin, expressing no opinion at all, brought us back to the matter -in hand. - -"They have seen the Moonstone on Miss Verinder's dress," he said. -"What is to be done?" - -"What your uncle threatened to do," answered Mr. Murthwaite. -"Colonel Herncastle understood the people he had to deal with. -Send the Diamond to-morrow (under guard of more than one man) to be cut -up at Amsterdam. Make half a dozen diamonds of it, instead of one. -There is an end of its sacred identity as The Moonstone--and there is an -end of the conspiracy." - -Mr. Franklin turned to me. - -"There is no help for it," he said. "We must speak to Lady -Verinder to-morrow." - -"What about to-night, sir?" I asked. "Suppose the Indians come back?" - -Mr. Murthwaite answered me before Mr. Franklin could speak. - -"The Indians won't risk coming back to-night," he said. -"The direct way is hardly ever the way they take to anything-- -let alone a matter like this, in which the slightest mistake -might be fatal to their reaching their end." - -"But suppose the rogues are bolder than you think, sir?" I persisted. - -"In that case," says Mr. Murthwaite, "let the dogs loose. -Have you got any big dogs in the yard?" - -"Two, sir. A mastiff and a bloodhound." - -"They will do. In the present emergency, Mr. Betteredge, -the mastiff and the bloodhound have one great merit-- -they are not likely to be troubled with your scruples about -the sanctity of human life." - -The strumming of the piano reached us from the drawing-room, -as he fired that shot at me. He threw away his cheroot, -and took Mr. Franklin's arm, to go back to the ladies. -I noticed that the sky was clouding over fast, as I followed them -to the house. Mr. Murthwaite noticed it too. He looked round -at me, in his dry, droning way, and said: - -"The Indians will want their umbrellas, Mr. Betteredge, to-night!" - -It was all very well for HIM to joke. But I was not an eminent traveller-- -and my way in this world had not led me into playing ducks and drakes with my -own life, among thieves and murderers in the outlandish places of the earth. -I went into my own little room, and sat down in my chair in a perspiration, -and wondered helplessly what was to be done next. In this anxious frame -of mind, other men might have ended by working themselves up into a fever; -I ended in a different way. I lit my pipe, and took a turn at -ROBINSON CRUSOE. - -Before I had been at it five minutes, I came to this amazing bit-- -page one hundred and sixty-one--as follows: - -"Fear of Danger is ten thousand times more terrifying than Danger itself, -when apparent to the Eyes; and we find the Burthen of Anxiety greater, -by much, than the Evil which we are anxious about." - -The man who doesn't believe in ROBINSON CRUSOE, after THAT, -is a man with a screw loose in his understanding, or a man -lost in the mist of his own self-conceit! Argument is thrown -away upon him; and pity is better reserved for some person -with a livelier faith. - -I was far on with my second pipe, and still lost in admiration of that -wonderful book, when Penelope (who had been handing round the tea) -came in with her report from the drawing-room. She had left the Bouncers -singing a duet-words beginning with a large "O," and music to correspond. -She had observed that my lady made mistakes in her game of whist -for the first time in our experience of her. She had seen the great -traveller asleep in a corner. She had overheard Mr. Franklin sharpening -his wits on Mr. Godfrey, at the expense of Ladies' Charities in general; -and she had noticed that Mr. Godfrey hit him back again rather more smartly -than became a gentleman of his benevolent character. She had detected -Miss Rachel, apparently engaged in appeasing Mrs. Threadgall by showing -her some photographs, and really occupied in stealing looks at Mr. Franklin, -which no intelligent lady's maid could misinterpret for a single instant. -Finally, she had missed Mr. Candy, the doctor, who had mysteriously -disappeared from the drawing-room, and had then mysteriously returned, -and entered into conversation with Mr. Godfrey. Upon the whole, -things were prospering better than the experience of the dinner gave -us any right to expect. If we could only hold on for another hour, -old Father Time would bring up their carriages, and relieve us of -them altogether. - -Everything wears off in this world; and even the comforting -effect of ROBINSON CRUSOE wore off, after Penelope left me. -I got fidgety again, and resolved on making a survey of the -grounds before the rain came. Instead of taking the footman, -whose nose was human, and therefore useless in any emergency, -I took the bloodhound with me. HIS nose for a stranger -was to be depended on. We went all round the premises, -and out into the road--and returned as wise as we went, -having discovered no such thing as a lurking human -creature anywhere. - -The arrival of the carriages was the signal for the arrival of the rain. -It poured as if it meant to pour all night. With the exception of the doctor, -whose gig was waiting for him, the rest of the company went home snugly, -under cover, in close carriages. I told Mr. Candy that I was afraid he would -get wet through. He told me, in return, that he wondered I had arrived -at my time of life, without knowing that a doctor's skin was waterproof. -So he drove away in the rain, laughing over his own little joke; and so we got -rid of our dinner company. - -The next thing to tell is the story of the night. - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -When the last of the guests had driven away, I went back into -the inner hall and found Samuel at the side-table, presiding -over the brandy and soda-water. My lady and Miss Rachel came -out of the drawing-room, followed by the two gentlemen. -Mr. Godfrey had some brandy and soda-water, Mr. Franklin -took nothing. He sat down, looking dead tired; the talking -on this birthday occasion had, I suppose, been too much -for him. - -My lady, turning round to wish them good-night, looked hard -at the wicked Colonel's legacy shining in her daughter's dress. - -"Rachel," she asked, "where are you going to put your Diamond to-night?" - -Miss Rachel was in high good spirits, just in that humour -for talking nonsense, and perversely persisting in it as if it -was sense, which you may sometimes have observed in young girls, -when they are highly wrought up, at the end of an exciting day. -First, she declared she didn't know where to put the Diamond. -Then she said, "on her dressing-table, of course, along with -her other things." Then she remembered that the Diamond -might take to shining of itself, with its awful moony light -in the dark--and that would terrify her in the dead of night. -Then she bethought herself of an Indian cabinet which stood -in her sitting-room; and instantly made up her mind to put -the Indian diamond in the Indian cabinet, for the purpose of -permitting two beautiful native productions to admire each other. -Having let her little flow of nonsense run on as far as that point, -her mother interposed and stopped her. - -"My dear! your Indian cabinet has no lock to it," says my lady. - -"Good Heavens, mamma!" cried Miss Rachel, "is this an hotel? -Are there thieves in the house?" - -Without taking notice of this fantastic way of talking, my lady -wished the gentlemen good-night. She next turned to Miss Rachel, -and kissed her. "Why not let ME keep the Diamond for you to-night?" -she asked. - -Miss Rachel received that proposal as she might, ten years since, -have received a proposal to part her from a new doll. -My lady saw there was no reasoning with her that night. -"Come into my room, Rachel, the first thing to-morrow morning," -she said. "I shall have something to say to you." With those -last words she left us slowly; thinking her own thoughts, and, -to all appearance, not best pleased with the way by which they were -leading her. - -Miss Rachel was the next to say good-night. She shook hands first -with Mr. Godfrey, who was standing at the other end of the hall, -looking at a picture. Then she turned back to Mr. Franklin, -still sitting weary and silent in a corner. - -What words passed between them I can't say. But standing near the old -oak frame which holds our large looking-glass, I saw her reflected -in it, slyly slipping the locket which Mr. Franklin had given to her, -out of the bosom of her dress, and showing it to him for a moment, -with a smile which certainly meant something out of the common, -before she tripped off to bed. This incident staggered me a little -in the reliance I had previously felt on my own judgment. I began -to think that Penelope might be right about the state of her young -lady's affections, after all. - -As soon as Miss Rachel left him eyes to see with, Mr. Franklin noticed me. -His variable humour, shifting about everything, had shifted about the -Indians already. - -"Betteredge," he said, "I'm half inclined to think I took Mr. Murthwaite -too seriously, when we had that talk in the shrubbery. I wonder whether -he has been trying any of his traveller's tales on us? Do you really mean -to let the dogs loose?" - -"I'll relieve them of their collars, sir," I answered, "and leave -them free to take a turn in the night, if they smell a reason for it." - -"All right," says Mr. Franklin. "We'll see what is to be done to-morrow. I -am not at all disposed to alarm my aunt, Betteredge, without a very pressing -reason for it. Good-night." - -He looked so worn and pale as he nodded to me, and took his -candle to go up-stairs, that I ventured to advise his having -a drop of brandy-and-water, by way of night-cap. Mr. Godfrey, -walking towards us from the other end of the hall, backed me. -He pressed Mr. Franklin, in the friendliest manner, to take something, -before he went to bed. - -I only note these trifling circumstances, because, after all -I had seen and heard, that day, it pleased me to observe -that our two gentlemen were on just as good terms as ever. -Their warfare of words (heard by Penelope in the drawing-room), -and their rivalry for the best place in Miss Rachel's good graces, -seemed to have set no serious difference between them. -But there! they were both good-tempered, and both men of the world. -And there is certainly this merit in people of station, that they -are not nearly so quarrelsome among each other as people of no -station at all. - -Mr. Franklin declined the brandy-and-water, and went up-stairs -with Mr. Godfrey, their rooms being next door to each other. -On the landing, however, either his cousin persuaded him, -or he veered about and changed his mind as usual. -"Perhaps I may want it in the night," he called down to me. -"Send up some brandy-and-water into my room." - -I sent up Samuel with the brandy-and-water; and then went out -and unbuckled the dogs' collars. They both lost their heads -with astonishment on being set loose at that time of night, -and jumped upon me like a couple of puppies! However, the rain -soon cooled them down again: they lapped a drop of water each, -and crept back into their kennels. As I went into the house I -noticed signs in the sky which betokened a break in the weather -for the better. For the present, it still poured heavily, -and the ground was in a perfect sop. - -Samuel and I went all over the house, and shut up as usual. -I examined everything myself, and trusted nothing to my deputy -on this occasion. All was safe and fast when I rested my old bones -in bed, between midnight and one in the morning. - -The worries of the day had been a little too much for me, I suppose. -At any rate, I had a touch of Mr. Franklin's malady that night. -It was sunrise before I fell off at last into a sleep. -All the time I lay awake the house was as quiet as the grave. -Not a sound stirred but the splash of the rain, and the sighing -of the wind among the trees as a breeze sprang up with -the morning. - - - -About half-past seven I woke, and opened my window on a fine sunshiny day. -The clock had struck eight, and I was just going out to chain up the dogs -again, when I heard a sudden whisking of petticoats on the stairs behind me. - -I turned about, and there was Penelope flying down after me like mad. -"Father!" she screamed, "come up-stairs, for God's sake! THE DIAMOND -IS GONE!" "Are you out of your mind? "I asked her. - -"Gone!" says Penelope. "Gone, nobody knows how! Come up and see." - -She dragged me after her into our young lady's sitting-room, which opened into -her bedroom. There, on the threshold of her bedroom door, stood Miss Rachel, -almost as white in the face as the white dressinggown that clothed her. -There also stood the two doors of the Indian cabinet, wide open. One, of the -drawers inside was pulled out as far as it would go. - -"Look!" says Penelope. "I myself saw Miss Rachel put the Diamond -into that drawer last night." I went to the cabinet. The drawer -was empty. - -"Is this true, miss?" I asked. - -With a look that was not like herself, with a voice that was not like her own, -Miss Rachel answered as my daughter had answered: "The Diamond is gone!" -Having said those words, she withdrew into her bedroom, and shut and locked -the door. - -Before we knew which way to turn next, my lady came in, hearing my -voice in her daughter's sittingroom, and wondering what had happened. -The news of the loss of the Diamond seemed to petrify her. She went -straight to Miss Rachel's bedroom, and insisted on being admitted. -Miss Rachel let here in. - -The alarm, running through the house like fire, caught the two gentlemen next. - -Mr. Godfrey was the first to come out of his room. -All he did when he heard what had happened was to hold up -his hands in a state of bewilderment, which didn't say much -for his natural strength of mind. Mr. Franklin, whose clear -head I had confidently counted on to advise us, seemed to be -as helpless as his cousin when he heard the news in his turn. -For a wonder, he had had a good night's rest at last; -and the unaccustomed luxury of sleep had, as he said himself, -apparently stupefied him. However, when he had swallowed -his cup of coffee--which he always took, on the foreign plan, -some hours before he ate any breakfast--his brains brightened; -the clear-headed side of him turned up, and he took the matter -in hand, resolutely and cleverly, much as follows: - -He first sent for the servants, and told them to leave all the lower doors -and windows (with the exception of the front door, which I had opened) -exactly as they had been left when we locked up over night. He next proposed -to his cousin and to me to make quite sure, before we took any further steps, -that the Diamond had not accidentally dropped somewhere out of sight--say at -the back of the cabinet, or down behind the table on which the cabinet stood. -Having searched in both places, and found nothing--having also questioned -Penelope, and discovered from her no more than the little she had already -told me--Mr. Franklin suggested next extending our inquiries to Miss Rachel, -and sent Penelope to knock at her bed-room door. - -My lady answered the knock, and closed the door behind her. -The moment after we heard it locked inside by Miss Rachel. -My mistress came out among us, looking sorely puzzled -and distressed. "The loss of the Diamond seems to have quite -overwhelmed Rachel," she said, in reply to Mr. Franklin. -"She shrinks, in the strangest manner, from speaking of it, -even to ME. It is impossible you can see her for the present." -Having added to our perplexities by this account of Miss Rachel, -my lady, after a little effort, recovered her usual composure, -and acted with her usual decision. - -"I suppose there is no help for it?" she said, quietly. "I suppose I -have no alternative but to send for the police?" - -"And the first thing for the police to do," added Mr. Franklin, -catching her up, "is to lay hands on the Indian jugglers -who performed here last night." - -My lady and Mr. Godfrey (not knowing what Mr. Franklin and I knew) -both started, and both looked surprised. - -"I can't stop to explain myself now," Mr. Franklin went on. -"I can only tell you that the Indians have certainly stolen -the Diamond. Give me a letter of introduction," says he, -addressing my lady, "to one of the magistrates at Frizinghall-- -merely telling him that I represent your interests and wishes, -and let me ride off with it instantly. Our chance of catching -the thieves may depend on our not wasting one unnecessary minute." -(Nota bene: Whether it was the French side or the English, -the right side of Mr. Franklin seemed to be uppermost now. The only -question was, How long would it last?) - -He put pen, ink, and paper before his aunt, who (as it appeared to me) -wrote the letter he wanted a little unwillingly. If it had been possible -to overlook such an event as the loss of a jewel worth twenty thousand pounds, -I believe--with my lady's opinion of her late brother, and her distrust -of his birthday-gift--it would have been privately a relief to her to let -the thieves get off with the Moonstone scot free. - -I went out with Mr. Franklin to the stables, and took the opportunity -of asking him how the Indians (whom I suspected, of course, as shrewdly -as he did) could possibly have got into the house. - -"One of them might have slipped into the hall, in the confusion, -when the dinner company were going away," says Mr. Franklin. -"The fellow may have been under the sofa while my aunt and Rachel -were talking about where the Diamond was to be put for the night. -He would only have to wait till the house was quiet, and there -it would be in the cabinet, to be had for the taking." -With those words, he called to the groom to open the gate, -and galloped off. - -This seemed certainly to be the only rational explanation. -But how had the thief contrived to make his escape from the house? -I had found the front door locked and bolted, as I had left -it at night, when I went to open it, after getting up. -As for the other doors and windows, there they were still, -all safe and fast, to speak for themselves. The dogs, too? -Suppose the thief had got away by dropping from one of the -upper windows, how had he escaped the dogs? Had he come provided -for them with drugged meat? As the doubt crossed my mind, -the dogs themselves came galloping at me round a corner, rolling each -other over on the wet grass, in such lively health and spirits -that it was with no small difficulty I brought them to reason, -and chained them up again. The more I turned it over in my mind, -the less satisfactory Mr. Franklin's explanation appeared -to be. - -We had our breakfasts--whatever happens in a house, robbery or murder, -it doesn't matter, you must have your breakfast. When we had done, -my lady sent for me; and I found myself compelled to tell her all that I -had hitherto concealed, relating to the Indians and their plot. -Being a woman of a high courage, she soon got over the first startling effect -of what I had to communicate. Her mind seemed to be far more perturbed -about her daughter than about the heathen rogues and their conspiracy. -"You know how odd Rachel is, and how differently she behaves sometimes -from other girls," my lady said to me. "But I have never, in all -my experience, seen her so strange and so reserved as she is now. -The loss of her jewel seems almost to have turned her brain. Who would have -thought that horrible Diamond could have laid such a hold on her in so short -a time?" - -It was certainly strange. Taking toys and trinkets in general, -Miss Rachel was nothing like so mad after them as most young girls. -Yet there she was, still locked up inconsolably in her bedroom. -It is but fair to add that she was not the only one of us in the house -who was thrown out of the regular groove. Mr. Godfrey, for instance-- -though professionally a sort of consoler-general--seemed to be at -a loss where to look for his own resources. Having no company -to amuse him, and getting no chance of trying what his experience -of women in distress could do towards comforting Miss Rachel, -he wandered hither and thither about the house and gardens in an -aimless uneasy way. He was in two different minds about what it -became him to do, after the misfortune that had happened to us. -Ought he to relieve the family, in their present situation, -of the responsibility of him as a guest, or ought he to stay on -the chance that even his humble services might be of some use? -He decided ultimately that the last course was perhaps the most -customary and considerate course to take, in such a very peculiar -case of family distress as this was. Circumstances try the metal -a man is really made of. Mr. Godfrey, tried by circumstances, -showed himself of weaker metal than I had thought him to be. -As for the women-servants excepting Rosanna Spearman, who kept by herself-- -they took to whispering together in corners, and staring at nothing -suspiciously, as is the manner of that weaker half of the human family, -when anything extraordinary happens in a house. I myself acknowledge -to have been fidgety and ill-tempered. The cursed Moonstone had -turned us all upside down. - -A little before eleven Mr. Franklin came back. The resolute -side of him had, to all appearance, given way, in the interval -since his departure, under the stress that had been laid on it. -He had left us at a gallop; he came back to us at a walk. -When he went away, he was made of iron. When he returned, he was -stuffed with cotton, as limp as limp could be. - -"Well," says my lady, "are the police coming?" - -"Yes," says Mr. Franklin; "they said they would follow me in a fly. -Superintendent Seegrave, of your local police force, and two of his men. -A mere form! The case is hopeless." - -"What! have the Indians escaped, sir?" I asked. - -"The poor ill-used Indians have been most unjustly put in prison," -says Mr. Franklin. "They are as innocent as the babe unborn. -My idea that one of them was hidden in the house has ended, -like all the rest of my ideas, in smoke. It's been proved," -says Mr. Franklin, dwelling with great relish on his own incapacity, -"to be simply impossible." - -After astonishing us by announcing this totally new turn in the matter -of the Moonstone, our young gentleman, at his aunt's request, took a seat, -and explained himself. - -It appeared that the resolute side of him had held out as far -as Frizinghall. He had put the whole case plainly before -the magistrate, and the magistrate had at once sent for the police. -The first inquiries instituted about the Indians showed -that they had not so much as attempted to leave the town. -Further questions addressed to the police, proved that all -three had been seen returning to Frizinghall with their boy, -on the previous night between ten and eleven--which (regard being -had to hours and distances) also proved that they had -walked straight back after performing on our terrace. -Later still, at midnight, the police, having occasion to search -the common lodging-house where they lived, had seen them -all three again, and their little boy with them, as usual. -Soon after midnight I myself had safely shut up the house. -Plainer evidence than this, in favour of the Indians, -there could not well be. The magistrate said there was not -even a case of suspicion against them so far. But, as it was -just possible, when the police came to investigate the matter, -that discoveries affecting the jugglers might be made, -he would contrive, by committing them as rogues and vagabonds, -to keep them at our disposal, under lock and key, for a week. -They had ignorantly done something (I forget what) in the town, -which barely brought them within the operation of the law. -Every human institution (justice included) will stretch -a little, if you only pull it the right way. The worthy -magistrate was an old friend of my lady's, and the Indians -were "committed" for a week, as soon as the court opened that -morning. - -Such was Mr. Franklin's narrative of events at Frizinghall. -The Indian clue to the mystery of the lost jewel was now, -to all appearance, a clue that had broken in our hands. -If the jugglers were innocent, who, in the name of wonder, had taken -the Moonstone out of Miss Rachel's drawer? - -Ten minutes later, to our infinite relief; Superintendent Seegrave -arrived at the house. He reported passing Mr. Franklin on the terrace, -sitting in the sun (I suppose with the Italian side of him uppermost), -and warning the police, as they went by, that the investigation was hopeless, -before the investigation had begun. - -For a family in our situation, the Superintendent of the Frizinghall -police was the most comforting officer you could wish to see. -Mr. Seegrave was tall and portly, and military in his manners. -He had a fine commanding voice, and a mighty resolute eye, and a grand -frock-coat which buttoned beautifully up to his leather stock. -"I'm the man you want!" was written all over his face; and he ordered -his two inferior police men about with a severity which convinced us all -that there was no trifling with HIM. - -He began by going round the premises, outside and in; -the result of that investigation proving to him that no thieves -had broken in upon us from outside, and that the robbery, -consequently, must have been committed by some person in the house. -I leave you to imagine the state the servants were in when this -official announcement first reached their ears. The Superintendent -decided to begin by examining the boudoir, and, that done, -to examine the servants next. At the same time, he posted -one of his men on the staircase which led to the servants' -bedrooms, with instructions to let nobody in the house pass him, -till further orders. - -At this latter proceeding, the weaker half of the human family went distracted -on the spot. They bounced out of their comers, whisked up-stairs in a body -to Miss Rachel's room (Rosanna Spearman being carried away among them this -time), burst in on Superintendent Seegrave, and, all looking equally guilty, -summoned him to say which of them he suspected, at once. - -Mr. Superintendent proved equal to the occasion; he looked at them -with his resolute eye, and he cowed them with his military voice. - - - -"Now, then, you women, go down-stairs again, every one of you; -I won't have you here. Look!" says Mr. Superintendent, -suddenly pointing to a little smear of the decorative painting -on Miss Rachel's door, at the outer edge, just under the lock. -"Look what mischief the petticoats of some of you have done already. -Clear out! clear out!" Rosanna Spearman, who was nearest to him, -and nearest to the little smear on the door, set the example -of obedience, and slipped off instantly to her work. The rest -followed her out. The Superintendent finished his examination -of the room, and, making nothing of it, asked me who had first -discovered the robbery. My daughter had first discovered it. -My daughter was sent for. - -Mr. Superintendent proved to be a little too sharp with -Penelope at starting. "Now, young woman, attend to me, -and mind you speak the truth." Penelope fired up instantly. -"I've never been taught to tell lies Mr. Policeman!-- -and if father can stand there and hear me accused of falsehood -and thieving, and my own bed-room shut against me, and my -character taken away, which is all a poor girl has left, -he's not the good father I take him for!" A timely word from me -put Justice and Penelope on a pleasanter footing together. -The questions and answers went swimmingly, and ended in nothing -worth mentioning. My daughter had seen Miss Rachel put -the Diamond in the drawer of the cabinet the last thing at night. -She had gone in with Miss Rachel's cup of tea at eight -the next morning, and had found the drawer open and empty. -Upon that, she had alarmed the house--and there was an end of -Penelope's evidence. - -Mr. Superintendent next asked to see Miss Rachel herself. -Penelope mentioned his request through the door. The answer reached -us by the same road: "I have nothing to tell the policeman-- -I can't see anybody." Our experienced officer looked -equally surprised and offended when he heard that reply. -I told him my young lady was ill, and begged him to wait -a little and see her later. We thereupon went downstairs again, -and were met by Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Franklin crossing -the hall. - -The two gentlemen, being inmates of the house, were summoned to say if they -could throw any light on the matter. Neither of them knew anything about it. -Had they heard any suspicious noises during the previous night? They had -heard nothing but the pattering of the rain. Had I, lying awake longer than -either of them, heard nothing either? Nothing! Released from examination, -Mr. Franklin, still sticking to the helpless view of our difficulty, whispered -to me: "That man will be of no earthly use to us. Superintendent Seegrave -is an ass." Released in his turn, Mr. Godfrey whispered to me--"Evidently -a most competent person. Betteredge, I have the greatest faith in him!" -Many men, many opinions, as one of the ancients said, before my time. - -Mr. Superintendent's next proceeding took him back to the "boudoir" again, -with my daughter and me at his heels. His object was to discover whether any -of the furniture had been moved, during the night, out of its customary place-- -his previous investigation in the room having, apparently, not gone quite far -enough to satisfy his mind on this point. - -While we were still poking about among the chairs and tables, -the door of the bed-room was suddenly opened. After having -denied herself to everybody, Miss Rachel, to our astonishment, -walked into the midst of us of her own accord. She took up -her garden hat from a chair, and then went straight to Penelope -with this question:- - -"Mr. Franklin Blake sent you with a message to me this morning?" - -"Yes, miss." - -"He wished to speak to me, didn't he?" - -"Yes, miss." - -"Where is he now?" - -Hearing voices on the terrace below, I looked out of window, -and saw the two gentlemen walking up and down together. -Answering for my daughter, I said, "Mr. Franklin is on -the terrace, miss." - -Without another word, without heeding Mr. Superintendent, -who tried to speak to her, pale as death, and wrapped up -strangely in her own thoughts, she left the room, and went -down to her cousins on the terrace. - -It showed a want of due respect, it showed a breach of good manners, -on my part, but, for the life of me, I couldn't help looking -out of window when Miss Rachel met the gentlemen outside. -She went up to Mr. Franklin without appearing to notice -Mr. Godfrey, who thereupon drew back and left them by themselves. -What she said to Mr. Franklin appeared to be spoken vehemently. -It lasted but for a short time, and, judging by what I saw -of his face from the window, seemed to astonish him beyond -all power of expression. While they were still together, -my lady appeared on the terrace. Miss Rachel saw her-- -said a few last words to Mr. Franklin--and suddenly went back -into the house again, before her mother came up with her. -My lady surprised herself, and noticing Mr. Franklin's surprise, -spoke to him. Mr. Godfrey joined them, and spoke also. -Mr. Franklin walked away a little between the two, telling them -what had happened I suppose, for they both stopped short, -after taking a few steps, like persons struck with amazement. -I had just seen as much as this, when the door of the sitting-room -was opened violently. Miss Rachel walked swiftly through to her -bed-room, wild and angry, with fierce eyes and flaming cheeks. -Mr. Superintendent once more attempted to question her. -She turned round on him at her bed-room door. -"I have not sent for you!" she cried out vehemently. -"I don't want you. My Diamond is lost. Neither you nor -anybody else will ever find it! With those words she went in, -and locked the door in our faces. Penelope, standing nearest -to it, heard her burst out crying the moment she was alone -again. - -In a rage, one moment; in tears, the next! What did it mean? - -I told the Superintendent it meant that Miss Rachel's temper was upset -by the loss of her jewel. Being anxious for the honour of the family, -it distressed me to see my young lady forget herself--even with -a police-officer--and I made the best excuse I could, accordingly. -In my own private mind I was more puzzled by Miss Rachel's extraordinary -language and conduct than words can tell. Taking what she had said at her -bed-room door as a guide to guess by, I could only conclude that she was -mortally offended by our sending for the police, and that Mr. Franklin's -astonishment on the terrace was caused by her having expressed herself -to him (as the person chiefly instrumental in fetching the police) -to that effect. If this guess was right, why--having lost her Diamond-- -should she object to the presence in the house of the very people whose -business it was to recover it for her? And how, in Heaven's name, -could SHE know that the Moonstone would never be found again? - -As things stood, at present, no answer to those questions was to be -hoped for from anybody in the house. Mr. Franklin appeared to think -it a point of honour to forbear repeating to a servant--even to so old -a servant as I was--what Miss Rachel had said to him on the terrace. -Mr. Godfrey, who, as a gentleman and a relative, had been probably -admitted into Mr. Franklin's confidence, respected that confidence -as he was bound to do. My lady, who was also in the secret no doubt, -and who alone had access to Miss Rachel, owned openly that she could -make nothing of her. "You madden me when you talk of the Diamond!" -All her mother's influence failed to extract from her a word more -than that. - -Here we were, then, at a dead-lock about Miss Rachel-- -and at a dead-lock about the Moonstone. In the first case, -my lady was powerless to help us. In the second (as you shall -presently judge), Mr. Seegrave was fast approaching the condition -of a superintendent at his wits' end. - -Having ferreted about all over the "boudoir," without making -any discoveries among the furniture, our experienced officer -applied to me to know, whether the servants in general were -or were not acquainted with the place in which the Diamond -had been put for the night. - -"I knew where it was put, sir," I said, "to begin with. -Samuel, the footman, knew also--for he was present in the hall, -when they were talking about where the Diamond was to be kept -that night. My daughter knew, as she has already told you. -She or Samuel may have mentioned the thing to the other servants-- -or the other servants may have heard the talk for themselves, -through the side-door of the hall, which might have -been open to the back staircase. For all I can tell, -everybody in the house may have known where the jewel was, -last night." - -My answer presenting rather a wide field for Mr. Superintendent's -suspicions to range over, he tried to narrow it by asking about -the servants' characters next. - -I thought directly of Rosanna Spearman. But it was neither -my place nor my wish to direct suspicion against a poor girl, -whose honesty had been above all doubt as long as I had known her. -The matron at the Reformatory had reported her to my lady -as a sincerely penitent and thoroughly trustworthy girl. -It was the Superintendent's business to discover reason for -suspecting her first--and then, and not till then, it would -be my duty to tell him how she came into my lady's service. -"All our people have excellent characters," I said. "And all -have deserved the trust their mistress has placed in them." -After that, there was but one thing left for Mr. Seegrave -to do--namely, to set to work, and tackle the servants' -characters himself. - -One after another, they were examined. One after another, they proved -to have nothing to say--and said it (so far as the women were concerned) -at great length, and with a very angry sense of the embargo laid on their -bed-rooms. The rest of them being sent back to their places downstairs, -Penelope was then summoned, and examined separately a second time. - -My daughter's little outbreak of temper in the "boudoir," -and her readiness to think herself suspected, appeared to have -produced an unfavourable impression on Superintendent Seegrave. -It seemed also to dwell a little on his mind, that she -had been the last person who saw the Diamond at night. -When the second questioning was over, my girl came back -to me in a frenzy. There was no doubt of it any longer-- -the police-officer had almost as good as told her she was the thief! -I could scarcely believe him (taking Mr. Franklin's view) -to be quite such an ass as that. But, though he said nothing, -the eye with which he looked at my daughter was not a very pleasant -eye to see. I laughed it off with poor Penelope, as something -too ridiculous to be treated seriously--which it certainly was. -Secretly, I am afraid I was foolish enough to be angry too. -It was a little trying--it was, indeed. My girl sat down in a corner, -with her apron over her head, quite broken-hearted. Foolish -of her, you will say. she might have waited till he openly -accused her. Well, being a man of just an equal temper, -I admit that. Still Mr. Superintendent might have remembered-- -never mind what he might have remembered. The devil -take him! - -The next and last step in the investigation brought matters, as they say, -to a crisis. The officer had an interview (at which I was present) -with my lady. After informing her that the Diamond must have been taken -by somebody in the house, he requested permission for himself and his men -to search the servants' rooms and boxes on the spot. My good mistress, -like the generous high-bred woman she was, refused to let us be treated -like thieves. "I will never consent to make such a return as that," -she said, "for all I owe to the faithful servants who are employed in -my house." - -Mr. Superintendent made his bow, with a look in my direction, -which said plainly, "Why employ me, if you are to tie my hands -in this way?" As head of the servants, I felt directly that we -were bound, in justice to all parties, not to profit by our -mistress's generosity. "We gratefully thank your ladyship," I said; -"but we ask your permission to do what is right in this matter -by giving up our keys. When Gabriel Betteredge sets the example," -says I, stopping Superintendent Seegrave at the door, "the rest -of the servants will follow, I promise you. There are my keys, -to begin with!" My lady took me by the hand, and thanked me -with the tears in her eyes. Lord! what would I not have given, -at that moment, for the privilege of knocking Superintendent -Seegrave down! - -As I had promised for them, the other servants followed my lead, -sorely against the grain, of course, but all taking the view that I took. -The women were a sight to see, while the police-officers were rummaging among -their things. The cook looked as if she could grill Mr. Superintendent -alive on a furnace, and the other women looked as if they could eat him -when he was done. - -The search over, and no Diamond or sign of a Diamond being found, -of course, anywhere, Superintendent Seegrave retired to my -little room to consider with himself what he was to do next. -He and his men had now been hours in the house, and had not -advanced us one inch towards a discovery of how the Moonstone had -been taken, or of whom we were to suspect as the thief. - -While the police-officer was still pondering in solitude, -I was sent for to see Mr. Franklin in the library. -To my unutterable astonishment, just as my hand was on the door, -it was suddenly opened from the inside, and out walked -Rosanna Spearman! - - - -After the library had been swept and cleaned in the morning, -neither first nor second housemaid had any business in that room -at any later period of the day. I stopped Rosanna Spearman, -and charged her with a breach of domestic discipline on -the spot. - -"What might you want in the library at this time of day?" -I inquired. - -"Mr. Franklin Blake dropped one of his rings up-stairs," -says Rosanna; "and I have been into the library to give it to him." -The girl's face was all in a flush as she made me that answer; -and she walked away with a toss of her head and a look of -self-importance which I was quite at a loss to account for. -The proceedings in the house had doubtless upset all the -women-servants more or less; but none of them had gone clean -out of their natural characters, as Rosanna, to all appearance, -had now gone out of hers. - -I found Mr. Franklin writing at the library-table. He asked for a -conveyance to the railway station the moment I entered the room. -The first sound of his voice informed me that we now had the resolute -side of him uppermost once more. The man made of cotton had disappeared; -and the man made of iron sat before me again. - -"Going to London, sir?" I asked. - -"Going to telegraph to London," says Mr. Franklin. "I have convinced my aunt -that we must have a cleverer head than Superintendent Seegrave's to help us; -and I have got her permission to despatch a telegram to my father. -He knows the Chief Commissioner of Police, and the Commissioner can -lay his hand on the right man to solve the mystery of the Diamond. -Talking of mysteries, by-the-bye," says Mr. Franklin, dropping his voice, -"I have another word to say to you before you go to the stables. -Don't breathe a word of it to anybody as yet; but either Rosanna Spearman's -head is not quite right, or I am afraid she knows more about the Moonstone -than she ought to know." - -I can hardly tell whether I was more startled or distressed at hearing -him say that. If I had been younger, I might have confessed as much -to Mr. Franklin. But when you are old, you acquire one excellent habit. -In cases where you don't see your way clearly, you hold your tongue. - -"She came in here with a ring I dropped in my bed-room," -Mr. Franklin went on. "When I had thanked her, of course -I expected her to go. Instead of that, she stood opposite -to me at the table, looking at me in the oddest manner-- -half frightened, and half familiar--I couldn't make it out. -'This is a strange thing about the Diamond, sir,' she said, -in a curiously sudden, headlong way. I said, 'Yes, it was,' -and wondered what was coming next. Upon my honour, Betteredge, -I think she must be wrong in the head! She said, 'They will never -find the Diamond, sir, will they? No! nor the person who took it-- -I'll answer for that.' She actually nodded and smiled at me! -Before I could ask her what she meant, we heard your step outside. -I suppose she was afraid of your catching her here. -At any rate, she changed colour, and left the room. -What on earth does it mean? - -I could not bring myself to tell him the girl's story, even then. -It would have been almost as good as telling him that she was -the thief. Besides, even if I had made a clean breast of it, -and even supposing she was the thief, the reason why she should let -out her secret to Mr. Franklin, of all the people in the world, -would have been still as far to seek as ever. - -"I can't bear the idea of getting the poor girl into a scrape, -merely because she has a flighty way with her, and talks very strangely," -Mr. Franklin went on. "And yet if she had said to, the Superintendent -what she said to me, fool as he is, I'm afraid----" He stopped there, -and left the rest unspoken. - -"The best way, sir," I said, "will be for me to say two words -privately to my mistress about it at the first opportunity. -My lady has a very friendly interest in Rosanna; and the girl -may only have been forward and foolish, after all. -When there's a mess of any kind in a house, sir, the women-servants -like to look at the gloomy side--it gives the poor wretches -a kind of importance in their own eyes. If there's anybody ill, -trust the women for prophesying that the person will die. -If it's a jewel lost, trust them for prophesying that it will -never be found again." - -This view (which I am bound to say, I thought a probable view myself, -on reflection) seemed to relieve Mr. Franklin mightily: -he folded up his telegram, and dismissed the subject. -On my way to the stables, to order the pony-chaise, I looked -in at the servants' hall, where they were at dinner. -Rosanna Spearman was not among them. On inquiry, I found that she -had been suddenly taken ill, and had gone up-stairs to her own room -to lie down. - -"Curious! She looked well enough when I saw her last," -I remarked. - -Penelope followed me out. "Don't talk in that way before the rest -of them, father," she said. "You only make them harder on Rosanna than ever. -The poor thing is breaking her heart about Mr. Franklin Blake." - -Here was another view of the girl's conduct. If it was possible for -Penelope to be right, the explanation of Rosanna's strange language and -behaviour might have been all in this--that she didn't care what she said, -so long as she could surprise Mr. Franklin into speaking to her. -Granting that to be the right reading of the riddle, it accounted, perhaps, -for her flighty, self-conceited manner when she passed me in the hall. -Though he had only said three words, still she had carried her point, -and Mr. Franklin had spoken to her. - -I saw the pony harnessed myself. In the infernal network of mysteries -and uncertainties that now surrounded us, I declare it was a relief -to observe how well the buckles and straps understood each other! -When you had seen the pony backed into the shafts of the chaise, -you had seen something there was no doubt about. And that, -let me tell you, was becoming a treat of the rarest kind in -our household. - -Going round with the chaise to the front door, I found not only Mr. Franklin, -but Mr. Godfrey and Superintendent Seegrave also waiting for me on the steps. - -Mr. Superintendent's reflections (after failing to find -the Diamond in the servants' rooms or boxes) had led him, -it appeared, to an entirely new conclusion. Still sticking -to his first text, namely, that somebody in the house had -stolen the jewel, our experienced officer was now of opinion -that the thief (he was wise enough not to name poor Penelope, -whatever he might privately think of her!) had been acting -in concert with the Indians; and he accordingly proposed shifting -his inquiries to the jugglers in the prison at Frizinghall. -Hearing of this new move, Mr. Franklin had volunteered -to take the Superintendent back to the town, from which -he could telegraph to London as easily as from our station. -Mr. Godfrey, still devoutly believing in Mr. Seegrave, and greatly -interested in witnessing the examination of the Indians, -had begged leave to accompany the officer to Frizinghall. -One of the two inferior policemen was to be left at the house, -in case anything happened. The other was to go back with the -Superintendent to the town. So the four places in the pony-chaise -were just filled. - -Before he took the reins to drive off, Mr. Franklin walked me away -a few steps out of hearing of the others. - -"I will wait to telegraph to London," he said, "till I see what comes -of our examination of the Indians. My own conviction is, that this -muddle-headed local police-officer is as much in the dark as ever, -and is simply trying to gain time. The idea of any of the servants being -in league with the Indians is a preposterous absurdity, in my opinion. -Keep about the house, Betteredge, till I come back, and try what you -can make of Rosanna Spearman. I don't ask you to do anything degrading -to your own self-respect, or anything cruel towards the girl. -I only ask you to exercise your observation more carefully than usual. -We will make as light of it as we can before my aunt--but this is a more -important matter than you may suppose." - -"It is a matter of twenty thousand pounds, sir," I said, -thinking of the value of the Diamond. - -"It's a matter of quieting Rachel's mind," answered Mr. Franklin gravely. -"I am very uneasy about her." - -He left me suddenly; as if he desired to cut short any further talk -between us. I thought I understood why. Further talk might have let -me into the secret of what Miss Rachel had said to him on the terrace. - -So they drove away to Frizinghall. I was ready enough, in the girl's -own interest, to have a little talk with Rosanna in private. -But the needful opportunity failed to present itself. -She only came downstairs again at tea-time. When she did appear, -she was flighty and excited, had what they call an hysterical attack, -took a dose of sal-volatile by my lady's order, and was sent back to -her bed. - -The day wore on to its end drearily and miserably enough, -I can tell you. Miss Rachel still kept her room, -declaring that she was too ill to come down to dinner that day. -My lady was in such low spirits about her daughter, that I -could not bring myself to make her additionally anxious, -by reporting what Rosanna Spearman had said to Mr. Franklin. -Penelope persisted in believing that she was to be forthwith -tried, sentenced, and transported for theft. The other women -took to their Bibles and hymn-books, and looked as sour as -verjuice over their reading--a result, which I have observed, -in my sphere of life, to follow generally on the performance -of acts of piety at unaccustomed periods of the day. -As for me, I hadn't even heart enough to open my ROBINSON CRUSOE. -I went out into the yard, and, being hard up for a little -cheerful society, set my chair by the kennels, and talked to -the dogs. - -Half an hour before dinner-time, the two gentlemen came back from Frizinghall, -having arranged with Superintendent Seegrave that he was to return to us -the next day. They had called on Mr. Murthwaite, the Indian traveller, -at his present residence, near the town. At Mr. Franklin's request, -he had kindly given them the benefit of his knowledge of the language, -in dealing with those two, out of the three Indians, who knew nothing -of English. The examination, conducted carefully, and at great length, -had ended in nothing; not the shadow of a reason being discovered for -suspecting the jugglers of having tampered with any of our servants. -On reaching that conclusion, Mr. Franklin had sent his telegraphic message -to London, and there the matter now rested till to-morrow came. - -So much for the history of the day that followed the birthday. -Not a glimmer of light had broken in on us, so far. -A day or two after, however, the darkness lifted a little. -How, and with what result, you shall presently see. - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -The Thursday night passed, and nothing happened. With the Friday -morning came two pieces of news. - -Item the first: the baker's man declared he had met Rosanna -Spearman, on the previous afternoon, with a thick veil on, -walking towards Frizinghall by the foot-path way over the moor. -It seemed strange that anybody should be mistaken about Rosanna, -whose shoulder marked her out pretty plainly, poor thing-- -but mistaken the man must have been; for Rosanna, as you know, -had been all the Thursday afternoon ill up-stairs in her room. - -Item the second came through the postman. Worthy Mr. Candy -had said one more of his many unlucky things, when he drove off -in the rain on the birthday night, and told me that a doctor's skin -was waterproof. In spite of his skin, the wet had got through him. -He had caught a chill that night, and was now down with a fever. -The last accounts, brought by the postman, represented him -to be light-headed--talking nonsense as glibly, poor man, -in his delirium as he often talked it in his sober senses. -We were all sorry for the little doctor; but Mr. Franklin appeared -to regret his illness, chiefly on Miss Rachel's account. -From what he said to my lady, while I was in the room -at breakfast-time, he appeared to think that Miss Rachel-- -if the suspense about the Moonstone was not soon set at rest-- -might stand in urgent need of the best medical advice at -our disposal. - -Breakfast had not been over long, when a telegram from Mr. Blake, -the elder, arrived, in answer to his son. It informed us -that he had laid hands (by help of his friend, the Commissioner) -on the right man to help us. The name of him was Sergeant Cuff; -and the arrival of him from London might be expected by the -morning train. - -At reading the name of the new police-officer, Mr. Franklin gave a start. -It seems that he had heard some curious anecdotes about Sergeant Cuff, -from his father's lawyer, during his stay in London. - -"I begin to hope we are seeing the end of our anxieties already," he said. -"If half the stories I have heard are true, when it comes to unravelling -a mystery, there isn't the equal in England of Sergeant Cuff!" - -We all got excited and impatient as the time drew near -for the appearance of this renowned and capable character. -Superintendent Seegrave, returning to us at his appointed time, -and hearing that the Sergeant was expected, instantly shut -himself up in a room, with pen, ink, and paper, to make notes -of the Report which would be certainly expected from him. -I should have liked to have gone to the station myself, -to fetch the Sergeant. But my lady's carriage and horses -were not to be thought of, even for the celebrated Cuff; -and the pony-chaise was required later for Mr. Godfrey. -He deeply regretted being obliged to leave his aunt at such -an anxious time; and he kindly put off the hour of his departure -till as late as the last train, for the purpose of hearing -what the clever London police-officer thought of the case. -But on Friday night he must be in town, having a Ladies' -Charity, in difficulties, waiting to consult him on Saturday -morning. - -When the time came for the Sergeant's arrival, I went down to the gate -to look out for him. - -A fly from the railway drove up as I reached the lodge; and out got -a grizzled, elderly man, so miserably lean that he looked as if -he had not got an ounce of flesh on his bones in any part of him. -He was dressed all in decent black, with a white cravat round his neck. -His face was as sharp as a hatchet, and the skin of it was as yellow -and dry and withered as an autumn leaf. His eyes, of a steely light grey, -had a very disconcerting trick, when they encountered your eyes, of looking -as if they expected something more from you than you were aware of yourself. -His walk was soft; his voice was melancholy; his long lanky fingers -were hooked like claws. He might have been a parson, or an undertaker-- -or anything else you like, except what he really was. A more complete -opposite to Superintendent Seegrave than Sergeant Cuff, and a less comforting -officer to look at, for a family in distress, I defy you to discover, -search where you may. - -"Is this Lady Verinder's?" he asked. - -"Yes, sir." - -"I am Sergeant Cuff." - -"This way, sir, if you please." - -On our road to the house, I mentioned my name and position -in the family, to satisfy him that he might speak to me -about the business on which my lady was to employ him. -Not a word did he say about the business, however, for all that. -He admired the grounds, and remarked that he felt the sea -air very brisk and refreshing. I privately wondered, -on my side, how the celebrated Cuff had got his reputation. -We reached the house, in the temper of two strange dogs, -coupled up together for the first time in their lives by the -same chain. - -Asking for my lady, and hearing that she was in one of the conservatories, -we went round to the gardens at the back, and sent a servant to seek her. -While we were waiting, Sergeant Cuff looked through the evergreen -arch on our left, spied out our rosery, and walked straight in, -with the first appearance of anything like interest that he had shown yet. -To the gardener's astonishment, and to my disgust, this celebrated -policeman proved to be quite a mine of learning on the trumpery subject of -rose-gardens. - -"Ah, you've got the right exposure here to the south and sou'-west," -says the Sergeant, with a wag of his grizzled head, and a streak -of pleasure in his melancholy voice. "This is the shape for a rosery-- -nothing like a circle set in a square. Yes, yes; with walks -between all the beds. But they oughtn't to be gravel walks -like these. Grass, Mr. Gardener--grass walks between your roses; -gravel's too hard for them. That's a sweet pretty bed of white -roses and blush roses. They always mix well together, don't they? -Here's the white musk rose, Mr. Betteredge--our old English rose -holding up its head along with the best and the newest of them. -Pretty dear!" says the Sergeant, fondling the Musk Rose with -his lanky fingers, and speaking to it as if he was speaking to -a child. - -This was a nice sort of man to recover Miss Rachel's Diamond, -and to find out the thief who stole it! - -"You seem to be fond of roses, Sergeant?" I remarked. - -"I haven't much time to be fond of anything, 'says Sergeant Cuff. -"But when I HAVE a moment's fondness to bestow, most times, -Mr. Betteredge, the roses get it. I began my life among them -in my father's nursery garden, and I shall end my life among them, -if I can. Yes. One of these days (please God) I shall retire -from catching thieves, and try my hand at growing roses. -There will be grass walks, Mr. Gardener, between my beds," -says the Sergeant, on whose mind the gravel paths of our rosery seemed -to dwell unpleasantly. - -"It seems an odd taste, sir," I ventured to say, "for a man -in your line of life." - -"If you will look about you (which most people won't do)," -says Sergeant Cuff, "you will see that the nature of a man's -tastes is, most times, as opposite as possible to the nature -of a man's business. Show me any two things more opposite -one from the other than a rose and a thief; and I'll correct -my tastes accordingly--if it isn't too late at my time of life. -You find the damask rose a goodish stock for most of the tender sorts, -don't you, Mr. Gardener? Ah! I thought so. Here's a lady coming. -Is it Lady Verinder?" - -He had seen her before either I or the gardener had seen her, -though we knew which way to look, and he didn't. I began -to think him rather a quicker man than he appeared to be at -first sight. - -The Sergeant's appearance, or the Sergeant's errand-- -one or both--seemed to cause my lady some little embarrassment. -She was, for the first time in all my experience of her, -at a loss what to say at an interview with a stranger. -Sergeant Cuff put her at her ease directly. He asked if any other -person had been employed about the robbery before we sent for him; -and hearing that another person had been called in, and was now -in the house, begged leave to speak to him before anything else -was done. - -My lady led the way back. Before he followed her, the Sergeant relieved his -mind on the subject of the gravel walks by a parting word to the gardener. -"Get her ladyship to try grass," he said, with a sour look at the paths. -"No gravel! no gravel!" - -Why Superintendent Seegrave should have appeared to be several -sizes smaller than life, on being presented to Sergeant Cuff, -I can't undertake to explain. I can only state the fact. -They retired together; and remained a weary long time shut up -from all mortal intrusion. When they came out, Mr. Superintendent -was excited, and Mr. Sergeant was yawning. - -"The Sergeant wishes to see Miss Verinder's sitting-room," -says Mr. Seegrave, addressing me with great pomp and eagerness. -"The Sergeant may have some questions to ask. Attend the Sergeant, -if you please!" - -While I was being ordered about in this way, I looked at the great Cuff. -The great Cuff, on his side, looked at Superintendent Seegrave -in that quietly expecting way which I have already noticed. -I can't affirm that he was on the watch for his brother officer's -speedy appearance in the character of an Ass--I can only say that I -strongly suspected it. - -I led the way up-stairs. The Sergeant went softly all over -the Indian cabinet and all round the "boudoir;" asking questions -(occasionally only of Mr. Superintendent, and continually of me), -the drift of which I believe to have been equally unintelligible -to both of us. In due time, his course brought him to the door, -and put him face to face with the decorative painting that you know of. -He laid one lean inquiring finger on the small smear, just under -the lock, which Superintendent Seegrave had already noticed, -when he reproved the women-servants for all crowding together into -the room. - -"That's a pity," says Sergeant Cuff. "How did it happen?" - -He put the question to me. I answered that the women-servants had crowded -into the room on the previous morning, and that some of their petticoats had -done the mischief, "Superintendent Seegrave ordered them out, sir," I added, -"before they did any more harm." - -"Right!" says Mr. Superintendent in his military way. "I ordered them out. -The petticoats did it, Sergeant--the petticoats did it." - -"Did you notice which petticoat did it?" asked Sergeant Cuff, -still addressing himself, not to his brother-officer, but to me. - -"No, sir." - -He turned to Superintendent Seegrave upon that, and said, "You noticed, -I suppose?" - -Mr. Superintendent looked a little taken aback; but he made the best of it. -"I can't charge my memory, Sergeant," he said, "a mere trifle--a mere trifle." - -Sergeant Cuff looked at Mr. Seegrave, as he had looked at the gravel -walks in the rosery, and gave us, in his melancholy way, the first taste -of his quality which we had had yet. - -"I made a private inquiry last week, Mr. Superintendent," he said. -"At one end of the inquiry there was a murder, and at the other end -there was a spot of ink on a table cloth that nobody could account for. -In all my experience along the dirtiest ways of this dirty little world, -I have never met with such a thing as a trifle yet. Before we go a step -further in this business we must see the petticoat that made the smear, -and we must know for certain when that paint was wet." - -Mr. Superintendent--taking his set-down rather sulkily-- -asked if he should summon the women. Sergeant Cuff, -after considering a minute, sighed, and shook his head. - -"No," he said, "we'll take the matter of the paint first. -It's a question of Yes or No with the paint--which is short. -It's a question of petticoats with the women--which is long. -What o'clock was it when the servants were in this room -yesterday morning? Eleven o'clock--eh? Is there anybody in -the house who knows whether that paint was wet or dry, at eleven -yesterday morning?" - -"Her ladyship's nephew, Mr. Franklin Blake, knows," I said. - -"Is the gentleman in the house?" - -Mr. Franklin was as close at hand as could be--waiting for his first chance -of being introduced to the great Cuff. In half a minute he was in the room, -and was giving his evidence as follows: - -"That door, Sergeant," he said, "has been painted by Miss Verinder, -under my inspection, with my help, and in a vehicle of my own composition. -The vehicle dries whatever colours may be used with it, in twelve hours." - -"Do you remember when the smeared bit was done, sir?" asked the Sergeant. - -"Perfectly," answered Mr. Franklin. "That was the last morsel of the door -to be finished. We wanted to get it done, on Wednesday last--and I myself -completed it by three in the afternoon, or soon after." - -"To-day is Friday," said Sergeant Cuff, addressing himself to -Superintendent Seegrave. "Let us reckon back, sir. At three on -the Wednesday afternoon, that bit of the painting was completed. -The vehicle dried it in twelve hours--that is to say, dried it -by three o'clock on Thursday morning. At eleven on Thursday -morning you held your inquiry here. Take three from eleven, -and eight remains. That paint had been EIGHT HOURS DRY, -Mr. Superintendent, when you supposed that the women-servants' -petticoats smeared it." - -First knock-down blow for Mr. Seegrave! If he had not suspected -poor Penelope, I should have pitied him. - -Having settled the question of the paint, Sergeant Cuff, -from that moment, gave his brother-officer up as a bad job-- -and addressed himself to Mr. Franklin, as the more promising -assistant of the two. - -"It's quite on the cards, sir," he said, "that you have put -the clue into our hands." - -As the words passed his lips, the bedroom door opened, and Miss Rachel -came out among us suddenly. - -She addressed herself to the Sergeant, without appearing to notice -(or to heed) that he was a perfect stranger to her. - -"Did you say," she asked, pointing to Mr. Franklin, "that HE -had put the clue into your hands?" - -("This is Miss Verinder," I whispered, behind the Sergeant.) - -"That gentleman, miss," says the Sergeant--with his steely-grey -eyes carefully studying my young lady's face--"has possibly put -the clue into our hands." - -She turned for one moment, and tried to look at Mr. Franklin. -I say, tried, for she suddenly looked away again before their eyes met. -There seemed to be some strange disturbance in her mind. -She coloured up, and then she turned pale again. With the paleness, -there came a new look into her face--a look which it startled me -to see. - -"Having answered your question, miss," says the Sergeant, -"I beg leave to make an inquiry in my turn. There is a smear -on the painting of your door, here. Do you happen to know -when it was done? or who did it?" - -Instead of making any reply, Miss Rachel went on with her questions, -as if he had not spoken, or as if she had not heard him. - -"Are you another police-officer?" she asked. - -"I am Sergeant Cuff, miss, of the Detective Police." - -"Do you think a young lady's advice worth having?" - -"I shall be glad to hear it, miss." - -"Do your duty by yourself--and don't allow Mr Franklin Blake to help you!" - -She said those words so spitefully, so savagely, with such -an extraordinary outbreak of ill-will towards Mr. Franklin, -in her voice and in her look, that--though I had known her from -a baby, though I loved and honoured her next to my lady herself-- -I was ashamed of Miss Rachel for the first time in my life. - -Sergeant Cuff's immovable eyes never stirred from off her face. -"Thank you, miss," he said. "Do you happen to know anything about -the smear? Might you have done it by accident yourself?" - -"I know nothing about the smear." - -With that answer, she turned away, and shut herself up again in her -bed-room. This time, I heard her--as Penelope had heard her before-- -burst out crying as soon as she was alone again. - -I couldn't bring myself to look at the Sergeant--I looked at Mr. Franklin, -who stood nearest to me. He seemed to be even more sorely distressed at what -had passed than I was. - -"I told you I was uneasy about her," he said. "And now you see why." - -"Miss Verinder appears to be a little out of temper about the loss -of her Diamond," remarked the Sergeant. "It's a valuable jewel. -Natural enough! natural enough!" - -Here was the excuse that I had made for her (when she forgot -herself before Superintendent Seegrave, on the previous day) -being made for her over again, by a man who couldn't have had -MY interest in making it--for he was a perfect stranger! -A kind of cold shudder ran through me, which I couldn't -account for at the time. I know, now, that I must have got my -first suspicion, at that moment, of a new light (and horrid light) -having suddenly fallen on the case, in the mind of Sergeant Cuff-- -purely and entirely in consequence of what he had seen in -Miss Rachel, and heard from Miss Rachel, at that first interview -between them. - -"A young lady's tongue is a privileged member, sir," says the Sergeant -to Mr. Franklin. "Let us forget what has passed, and go straight on -with this business. Thanks to you, we know when the paint was dry. -The next thing to discover is when the paint was last seen without -that smear. YOU have got a head on your shoulders--and you understand -what I mean." - -Mr. Franklin composed himself, and came back with an effort from Miss -Rachel to the matter in hand. - -"I think I do understand," he said. "The more we narrow the question of time, -the more we also narrow the field of inquiry." - -"That's it, sir," said the Sergeant. "Did you notice your work here, -on the Wednesday afternoon, after you had done it?" - -Mr. Franklin shook his head, and answered, "I can't say I did." - -"Did you?" inquired Sergeant Cuff, turning to me. - -"I can't say I did either, sir." - -"Who was the last person in the room, the last thing on Wednesday night?" - -"Miss Rachel, I suppose, sir." - -Mr. Franklin struck in there, "Or possibly your daughter, Betteredge." -He turned to Sergeant Cuff, and explained that my daughter was Miss -Verinder's maid. - -"Mr. Betteredge, ask your daughter to step up. Stop!" says the Sergeant, -taking me away to the window, out of earshot, "Your Superintendent here," -he went on, in a whisper, "has made a pretty full report to me -of the manner in which he has managed this case. Among other things, -he has, by his own confession, set the servants' backs up. It's very -important to smooth them down again. Tell your daughter, and tell -the rest of them, these two things, with my compliments: First, that I -have no evidence before me, yet, that the Diamond has been stolen; -I only know that the Diamond has been lost. Second, that my business -here with the servants is simply to ask them to lay their heads together -and help me to find it." - -My experience of the women-servants, when Superintendent Seegrave -laid his embargo on their rooms, came in handy here. - -"May I make so bold, Sergeant, as to tell the women a third thing?" -I asked. "Are they free (with your compliments) to fidget up -and downstairs, and whisk in and out of their bed-rooms, if the fit -takes them?" - -"Perfectly free," said the Sergeant. - -"THAT will smooth them down, sir," I remarked, "from the cook -to the scullion." - -"Go, and do it at once, Mr. Betteredge." - -I did it in less than five minutes. There was only one difficulty when I -came to the bit about the bed-rooms. It took a pretty stiff exertion -of my authority, as chief, to prevent the whole of the female household -from following me and Penelope up-stairs, in the character of volunteer -witnesses in a burning fever of anxiety to help Sergeant Cuff. - -The Sergeant seemed to approve of Penelope. He became a trifle less dreary; -and he looked much as he had looked when he noticed the white musk rose -in the flower-garden. Here is my daughter's evidence, as drawn off from -her by the Sergeant. She gave it, I think, very prettily--but, there! she -is my child all over: nothing of her mother in her; Lord bless you, -nothing of her mother in her! - -Penelope examined: Took a lively interest in the painting -on the door, having helped to mix the colours. Noticed the bit -of work under the lock, because it was the last bit done. -Had seen it, some hours afterwards, without a smear. -Had left it, as late as twelve at night, without a smear. -Had, at that hour, wished her young lady good night in the bedroom; -had heard the clock strike in the "boudoir"; had her hand -at the time on the handle of the painted door; knew the paint -was wet (having helped to mix the colours, as aforesaid); -took particular pains not to touch it; could swear that she -held up the skirts of her dress, and that there was no smear -on the paint then; could not swear that her dress mightn't -have touched it accidentally in going out; remembered the dress -she had on, because it was new, a present from Miss Rachel; -her father remembered, and could speak to it, too; could, and would, -and did fetch it; dress recognised by her father as the dress -she wore that night; skirts examined, a long job from the size -of them; not the ghost of a paint-stain discovered anywhere. -End of Penelope's evidence--and very pretty and convincing, too. -Signed, Gabriel Betteredge. - -The Sergeant's next proceeding was to question me about any -large dogs in the house who might have got into the room, -and done the mischief with a whisk of their tails. -Hearing that this was impossible, he next sent for a -magnifying-glass, and tried how the smear looked, seen that way. -No skin-mark (as of a human hand) printed off on the paint. -All the signs visible--signs which told that the paint had been -smeared by some loose article of somebody's dress touching -it in going by. That somebody (putting together Penelope's -evidence and Mr. Franklin's evidence) must have been in the room, -and done the mischief, between midnight and three o'clock -on the Thursday morning. - -Having brought his investigation to this point, Sergeant Cuff discovered -that such a person as Superintendent Seegrave was still left in the room, -upon which he summed up the proceedings for his brother-officer's benefit, -as follows: - -"This trifle of yours, Mr. Superintendent," says the Sergeant, -pointing to the place on the door, "has grown a little in importance -since you noticed it last. At the present stage of the inquiry there are, -as I take it, three discoveries to make, starting from that smear. -Find out (first) whether there is any article of dress in this house with -the smear of the paint on it. Find out (second) who that dress belongs to. -Find out (third) how the person can account for having been in this room, -and smeared the paint, between midnight and three in the morning. -If the person can't satisfy you, you haven't far to look for the hand that -has got the Diamond. I'll work this by myself, if you please, and detain -you no longer-from your regular business in the town. You have got one -of your men here, I see. Leave him here at my disposal, in case I want him-- -and allow me to wish you good morning." - -Superintendent Seegrave's respect for the Sergeant was great; -but his respect for himself was greater still. Hit hard by the -celebrated Cuff, he hit back smartly, to the best of his ability, -on leaving the room. - -"I have abstained from expressing any opinion, so far," -says Mr. Superintendent, with his military voice still -in good working order. "I have now only one remark to -offer on leaving this case in your hands. There IS such -a thing, Sergeant, as making a mountain out of a molehill. -Good morning." - -"There is also such a thing as making nothing out of a molehill, -in consequence of your head being too high to see it." -Having returned his brother-officer's compliments in those terms, -Sergeant Cuff wheeled about, and walked away to the window -by himself. - -Mr. Franklin and I waited to see what was coming next. -The Sergeant stood at the window with his hands in his pockets, -looking out, and whistling the tune of "The Last Rose of Summer" -softly to himself. Later in the proceedings, I discovered -that he only forgot his manners so far as to whistle, when his -mind was hard at work, seeing its way inch by inch to its own -private ends, on which occasions "The Last Rose of Summer" -evidently helped and encouraged him. I suppose it fitted -in somehow with his character. It reminded him, you see, of his -favourite roses, and, as HE whistled it, it was the most melancholy -tune going. - -Turning from the window, after a minute or two, the Sergeant -walked into the middle of the room, and stopped there, -deep in thought, with his eyes on Miss Rachel's bed-room door. -After a little he roused himself, nodded his head, as much -as to say, "That will do," and, addressing me, asked for -ten minutes' conversation with my mistress, at her ladyship's -earliest convenience. - -Leaving the room with this message, I heard Mr. Franklin ask the Sergeant -a question, and stopped to hear the answer also at the threshold of the door. - -"Can you guess yet," inquired Mr. Franklin, "who has stolen the Diamond?" - -"NOBODY HAS STOLEN THE DIAMOND," answered Sergeant Cuff. - -We both started at that extraordinary view of the case, -and both earnestly begged him to tell us what he meant. - -"Wait a little," said the Sergeant. "The pieces of the puzzle -are not all put together yet." - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -I found my lady in her own sitting room. She started and looked -annoyed when I mentioned that Sergeant Cuff wished to speak to her. - -"MUST I see him?" she asked. "Can't you represent me, Gabriel?" - -I felt at a loss to understand this, and showed it plainly, I suppose, -in my face. My lady was so good as to explain herself. - -"I am afraid my nerves are a little shaken," she said. -"There is something in that police-officer from London which I -recoil from--I don't know why. I have a presentiment that -he is bringing trouble and misery with him into the house. -Very foolish, and very unlike ME--but so it is." - -I hardly knew what to say to this. The more I saw of Sergeant Cuff, -the better I liked him. My lady rallied a little after having opened -her heart to me--being, naturally, a woman of a high courage, as I have -already told you. - -"If I must see him, I must," she said. "But I can't prevail on myself -to see him alone. Bring him in, Gabriel, and stay here as long as he stays." - -This was the first attack of the megrims that I remembered -in my mistress since the time when she was a young girl. -I went back to the "boudoir." Mr. Franklin strolled out into -the garden, and joined Mr. Godfrey, whose time for departure -was now drawing near. Sergeant Cuff and I went straight to my -mistress's room. - -I declare my lady turned a shade paler at the sight of him! -She commanded herself, however, in other respects, and asked -the Sergeant if he had any objection to my being present. -She was so good as to add, that I was her trusted adviser, -as well as her old servant, and that in anything which related -to the household I was the person whom it might be most -profitable to consult. The Sergeant politely answered -that he would take my presence as a favour, having something -to say about the servants in general, and having found -my experience in that quarter already of some use to him. -My lady pointed to two chairs, and we set in for our -conference immediately. - -"I have already formed an opinion on this case, says Sergeant Cuff, -"which I beg your ladyship's permission to keep to myself for the present. -My business now is to mention what I have discovered up-stairs in Miss -Verinder's sitting-room, and what I have decided (with your ladyship's leave) -on doing next." - -He then went into the matter of the smear on the paint, and stated -the conclusions he drew from it--just as he had stated them -(only with greater respect of language) to Superintendent Seegrave. -"One thing," he said, in conclusion, "is certain. The Diamond is missing -out of the drawer in the cabinet. Another thing is next to certain. -The marks from the smear on the door must be on some article of dress -belonging to somebody in this house. We must discover that article of -dress before we go a step further." - -"And that discovery," remarked my mistress, "implies, I presume, -the discovery of the thief?" - -"I beg your ladyship's pardon--I don't say the Diamond is stolen. -I only say, at present, that the Diamond is missing. The discovery -of the stained dress may lead the way to finding it." - -Her ladyship looked at me. "Do you understand this?" she said. - -"Sergeant Cuff understands it, my lady," I answered. - -"How do you propose to discover the stained dress?" inquired my mistress, -addressing herself once more to the Sergeant. "My good servants, -who have been with me for years, have, I am ashamed to say, had their -boxes and rooms searched already by the other officer. I can't and won't -permit them to be insulted in that way a second time!" - -(There was a mistress to serve! There was a woman in ten thousand, -if you like!) - -"That is the very point I was about to put to your ladyship," -said the Sergeant. "The other officer has done a world of harm -to this inquiry, by letting the servants see that he suspected them. -If I give them cause to think themselves suspected a second time, -there's no knowing what obstacles they may not throw in my way-- -the women especially. At the same time, their boxes must be -searched again--for this plain reason, that the first investigation -only looked for the Diamond, and that the second investigation -must look for the stained dress. I quite agree with you, -my lady, that the servants' feelings ought to be consulted. -But I am equally clear that the servants' wardrobes ought to -be searched." - -This looked very like a dead-lock. My lady said so, in choicer language -than mine. - -"I have got a plan to meet the difficulty," said Sergeant Cuff, -"if your ladyship will consent to it. I propose explaining the case -to the servants." - -"The women will think themselves suspected directly, I said, -interrupting him. - -"The women won't, Mr. Betteredge," answered the Sergeant, "if I -can tell them I am going to examine the wardrobes of EVERYBODY-- -from her ladyship downwards--who slept in the house on Wednesday night. -It's a mere formality," he added, with a side look at my mistress; -"but the servants will accept it as even dealing between them -and their betters; and, instead of hindering the investigation, -they will make a point of honour of assisting it." - -I saw the truth of that. My lady, after her first surprise was over, -saw the truth of it also. - -"You are certain the investigation is necessary?" she said. - -"It's the shortest way that I can see, my lady, to the end we have in view." - -My mistress rose to ring the bell for her maid. "You shall speak -to the servants," she said, "with the keys of my wardrobe in your hand." - -Sergeant Cuff stopped her by a very unexpected question. - -"Hadn't we better make sure first," he asked, "that the other ladies -and gentlemen in the house will consent, too?" - -"The only other lady in the house is Miss Verinder," answered my mistress, -with a look of surprise. "The only gentlemen are my nephews, Mr. Blake -and Mr. Ablewhite. There is not the least fear of a refusal from any of -the three." - -I reminded my lady here that Mr. Godfrey was going away. -As I said the words, Mr. Godfrey himself knocked at the door to say -good-bye, and was followed in by Mr. Franklin, who was going -with him to the station. My lady explained the difficulty. -Mr. Godfrey settled it directly. He called to Samuel, -through the window, to take his portmanteau up-stairs again, -and he then put the key himself into Sergeant Cuff's hand. -"My luggage can follow me to London," he said, "when the inquiry -is over." The Sergeant received the key with a becoming apology. -"I am sorry to put you to any inconvenience, sir, for a -mere formality; but the example of their betters will do wonders -in reconciling the servants to this inquiry." Mr. Godfrey, -after taking leave of my lady, in a most sympathising manner? -left a farewell message for Miss Rachel, the terms of which made -it clear to my mind that he had not taken No for an answer, -and that he meant to put the marriage question to her once more, -at the next opportunity. Mr. Franklin, on following his -cousin out, informed the Sergeant that all his clothes were open -to examination, and that nothing he possessed was kept under -lock and key. Sergeant Cuff made his best acknowledgments. -His views, you will observe, had been met with the utmost -readiness by my lady, by Mr. Godfrey, and by Mr. Franklin. -There was only Miss. Rachel now wanting to follow their lead, -before we-called the servants together, and began the search for the -stained dress. - -My lady's unaccountable objection to the Sergeant seemed to make -our conference more distasteful to her than ever, as soon as we -were left alone again. "If I send you down Miss Verinder's keys," -she said to him, "I presume I shall have done all you want of me -for the present?" - -"I beg your ladyship's pardon," said Sergeant Cuff. "Before we begin, -I should like, if convenient, to have the washing-book. The stained article -of dress may be an article of linen. If the search leads to nothing, -I want to be able to account next for all the linen in the house, -and for all the linen sent to the wash. If there is an article missing, -there will be at least a presumption that it has got the paint-stain on it, -and that it has been purposely made away with, yesterday or to-day, -by the person owning it. Superintendent Seegrave," added the Sergeant, -turning to me, "pointed the attention of the women-servants to the smear, -when they all crowded into the room on Thursday morning. That may turn out, -Mr. Betteredge, to have been one more of Superintendent Seegrave's -many mistakes." - -My lady desired me to ring the bell, and order the washing-book. -She remained with us until it was produced, in case Sergeant Cuff -had any further request to make of her after looking at it. - -The washing-book was brought in by Rosanna Spearman. The girl had come -down to breakfast that morning miserably pale and haggard, but sufficiently -recovered from her illness of the previous day to do her usual work. -Sergeant Cuff looked attentively at our second housemaid--at her face, -when she came in; at her crooked shoulder, when she went out. - -"Have you anything more to say to me?" asked my lady, still as eager -as ever to be out of the Sergeant's society. - -The great Cuff opened the washing-book, understood it perfectly in half -a minute, and shut it up again. "I venture to trouble your ladyship -with one last question," he said. "Has the young woman who brought us -this book been in your employment as long as the other servants?" - -"Why do you ask?" said my lady. - -"The last time I saw her," answered the Sergeant, "she was in prison -for theft." - -After that, there was no help for it, but to tell him the truth. -My mistress dwelt strongly on Rosanna's good conduct in her service, -and on the high opinion entertained of her by the matron at the reformatory. -"You don't suspect her, I hope?" my lady added, in conclusion, -very earnestly. - -"I have already told your ladyship that I don't suspect any person -in the house of thieving--up to the present time." - -After that answer, my lady rose to go up-stairs, and ask -for Miss Rachel's keys. The Sergeant was before-hand with me -in opening the door for her. He made a very low bow. -My lady shuddered as she passed him. - -We waited, and waited, and no keys appeared. Sergeant Cuff made -no remark to me. He turned his melancholy face to the window; -he put his lanky hands into his pockets; and he whistled "The Last -Rose of Summer" softly to himself. - -At last, Samuel came in, not with the keys, but with a morsel of paper -for me. I got at my spectacles, with some fumbling and difficulty, -feeling the Sergeant's dismal eyes fixed on me all the time. -There were two or three lines on the paper, written in pencil by my lady. -They informed me that Miss Rachel flatly refused to have her -wardrobe examined. Asked for her reasons, she had burst out crying. -Asked again, she had said: "I won't, because I won't. I must -yield to force if you use it, but I will yield to nothing else." -I understood my lady's disinclination to face Sergeant Cuff with such -an answer from her daughter as that. If I had not been too old -for the amiable weaknesses of youth, I believe I should have blushed -at the notion of facing him myself. - -"Any news of Miss Verinder's keys?" asked the Sergeant. - -"My young lady refuses to have her wardrobe examined." - -"Ah!" said the Sergeant. - -His voice was not quite in such a perfect state of discipline as his face. -When he said "Ah!" he said it in the tone of a man who had heard something -which he expected to hear. He half angered and half frightened me--why, I -couldn't tell, but he did it. - -"Must the search be given up?" I asked. - -"Yes," said the Sergeant, "the search must be given up, -because your young lady refuses to submit to it like the rest. -We must examine all the wardrobes in the house or none. -Send Mr. Ablewhite's portmanteau to London by the next train, -and return the washing-book, with my compliments and thanks, -to the young woman who brought it in." - -He laid the washing-book on the table, and taking out his penknife, -began to trim his nails. - -"You don't seem to be much disappointed," I said. - -"No," said Sergeant Cuff; "I am not much disappointed." - -I tried to make him explain himself. - -"Why should Miss Rachel put an obstacle in your way?" I inquired. -"Isn't it her interest to help you?" - -"Wait a little, Mr. Betteredge--wait a little." - -Cleverer heads than mine might have seen his drift. Or a person -less fond of Miss Rachel than I was, might have seen his drift. -My lady's horror of him might (as I have since thought) -have meant that she saw his drift (as the scripture says) -"in a glass darkly." I didn't see it yet--that's all -I know. - -"What's to be done next?" I asked. - -Sergeant Cuff finished the nail on which he was then at work, -looked at it for a moment with a melancholy interest, and put up -his penknife. - -"Come out into the garden," he said " and let's have a look at the roses." - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -The nearest way to the garden, on going out of my lady's sitting-room, -was by the shrubbery path, which you already know of. For the sake -of your better understanding of what is now to come, I may add to this, -that the shrubbery path was Mr. Franklin's favourite walk. When he was -out in the grounds, and when we failed to find him anywhere else, -we generally found him here. - -I am afraid I must own that I am rather an obstinate old man. -The more firmly Sergeant Cuff kept his thoughts shut up from me, -the more firmly I persisted in trying to look in at them. -As we turned into the shrubbery path, I attempted to circumvent -him in another way. - -"As things are now," I said, "if I was in your place, I should be at -my wits' end." - -"If you were in my place," answered the Sergeant, "you would have formed -an opinion--and, as things are now, any doubt you might previously -have felt about your own conclusions would be completely set at rest. -Never mind for the present what those conclusions are, Mr. Betteredge. -I haven't brought you out here to draw me like a badger; I have brought you -out here to ask for some information. You might have given it to me no doubt, -in the house, instead of out of it. But doors and listeners have a knack -of getting together; and, in my line of life, we cultivate a healthy taste -for the open air." - -Who was to circumvent THIS man? I gave in--and waited as patiently -as I could to hear what was coming next. - -"We won't enter into your young lady's motives," the Sergeant went on; -"we will only say it's a pity she declines to assist me, because, -by so doing, she makes this investigation more difficult than it -might otherwise have been. We must now try to solve the mystery -of the smear on the door--which, you may take my word for it, -means the mystery of the Diamond also--in some other way. -I have decided to see the servants, and to search their thoughts -and actions, Mr. Betteredge, instead of searching their wardrobes. -Before I begin, however, I want to ask you a question or two. -You are an observant man--did you notice anything strange in any of -the servants (making due allowance, of course, for fright and fluster), -after the loss of the Diamond was found out? Any particular quarrel -among them? Any one of them not in his or her usual spirits? -Unexpectedly out of temper, for instance? or unexpectedly -taken ill?" - -I had just time to think of Rosanna Spearman's sudden illness -at yesterday's dinner--but not time to make any answer--when I saw -Sergeant Cuff's eyes suddenly turn aside towards the shrubbery; -and I heard him say softly to himself, "Hullo!" - -"What's the matter?" I asked. - -"A touch of the rheumatics in my back," said the Sergeant, -in a loud voice, as if he wanted some third person to hear us. -"We shall have a change in the weather before long." - -A few steps further brought us to the corner of the house. -Turning off sharp to the right, we entered on the terrace, -and went down, by the steps in the middle, into the garden below. -Sergeant Cuff stopped there, in the open space, where we could see -round us on every side. - -"About that young person, Rosanna Spearman?" he said. -"It isn't very likely, with her personal appearance, that she -has got a lover. But, for the girl's own sake, I must ask you -at once whether SHE has provided herself with a sweetheart, -poor wretch, like the rest of them?" - -What on earth did he mean, under present circumstances, -by putting such a question to me as that? I stared at him, -instead of answering him. - -"I saw Rosanna Spearman hiding in the shrubbery as we went by," -said the Sergeant. - -"When you said 'Hullo'?" - -"Yes--when I said 'Hullo!' If there's a sweetheart in the case, -the hiding doesn't much matter. If there isn't--as things are -in this house--the hiding is a highly suspicious circumstance, -and it will be my painful duty to act on it accordingly." - -What, in God's name, was I to say to him? I knew the shrubbery -was Mr. Franklin's favourite walk; I knew he would most -likely turn that way when he came back from the station; -I knew that Penelope had over and over again caught her -fellow-servant hanging about there, and had always declared to me -that Rosanna's object was to attract Mr. Franklin's attention. -If my daughter was right, she might well have been lying in wait -for Mr. Franklin's return when the Sergeant noticed her. -I was put between the two difficulties of mentioning Penelope's -fanciful notion as if it was mine, or of leaving an unfortunate -creature to suffer the consequences, the very serious consequences, -of exciting the suspicion of Sergeant Cuff. Out of pure pity -for the girl--on my soul and my character, out of pure pity -for the girl--I gave the Sergeant the necessary explanations, -and told him that Rosanna had been mad enough to set her heart on -Mr. Franklin Blake. - -Sergeant Cuff never laughed. On the few occasions when anything amused him, -he curled up a little at the corners of the lips, nothing more. He curled -up now. - -"Hadn't you better say she's mad enough to be an ugly girl and only -a servant?" he asked. "The falling in love with a gentleman of Mr. Franklin -Blake's manners and appearance doesn't seem to me to be the maddest part -of her conduct by any means. However, I'm glad the thing is cleared up: -it relieves one's mind to have things cleared up. Yes, I'll keep it -a secret, Mr. Betteredge. I like to be tender to human infirmity-- -though I don't get many chances of exercising that virtue in my line of life. -You think Mr. Franklin Blake hasn't got a suspicion of the girl's fancy -for him? Ah! he would have found it out fast enough if she had been -nice-looking. The ugly women have a bad time of it in this world; -let's hope it will be made up to them in another. You have got a nice -garden here, and a well-kept lawn. See for yourself how much better -the flowers look with grass about them instead of gravel. No, thank you. -I won't take a rose. It goes to my heart to break them off the stem. -Just as it goes to your heart, you know, when there's something wrong -in the servants' hall. Did you notice anything you couldn't account -for in any of the servants when the loss of the Diamond was first -found out?" - -I had got on very fairly well with Sergeant Cuff so far. -But the slyness with which he slipped in that last question -put me on my guard. In plain English, I didn't at all relish -the notion of helping his inquiries, when those inquiries -took him (in the capacity of snake in the grass) among my -fellow-servants. - -"I noticed nothing," I said, "except that we all lost our heads together, -myself included." - -"Oh," says the Sergeant, "that's all you have to tell me, -is it?" - -I answered, with (as I flattered myself) an unmoved countenance, -"That is all." - -Sergeant Cuff's dismal eyes looked me hard in the face. - -"Mr. Betteredge," he said, "have you any objection to oblige me -by shaking hands? I have taken an extraordinary liking to you." - -(Why he should have chosen the exact moment when I was deceiving him -to give me that proof of his good opinion, is beyond all comprehension! -I felt a little proud--I really did feel a little proud of having been one -too many at last for the celebrated Cuff!) - -We went back to the house; the Sergeant requesting that I would -give him a room to himself, and then send in the servants -(the indoor servants only), one after another, in the order -of their rank, from first to last. - -I showed Sergeant Cuff into my own room, and then called the servants -together in the hall. Rosanna Spearman appeared among them, much as usual. -She was as quick in her way as the Sergeant in his, and I suspect she -had heard what he said to me about the servants in general, just before -he discovered her. There she was, at any rate, looking as if she had -never heard of such a place as the shrubbery in her life. - -I sent them in, one by one, as desired. The cook was -the first to enter the Court of Justice, otherwise my room. -She remained but a short time. Report, on coming out: -"Sergeant Cuff is depressed in his spirits; but Sergeant -Cuff is a perfect gentleman." My lady's own maid followed. -Remained much longer. Report, on coming out: "If Sergeant -Cuff doesn't believe a respectable woman, he might keep -his opinion to himself, at any rate!" Penelope went next. -Remained only a moment or two. Report, on coming out: -"Sergeant Cuff is much to be pitied. He must have been -crossed in love, father, when he was a young man." -The first housemaid followed Penelope. Remained, like my -lady's maid, a long time. Report, on coming out: "I didn't -enter her ladyship's service, Mr. Betteredge, to be doubted -to my face by a low police-officer!" Rosanna Spearman went next. -Remained longer than any of them. No report on coming out-- -dead silence, and lips as pale as ashes. Samuel, the footman, -followed Rosanna. Remained a minute or two. Report, on coming out: -"Whoever blacks Sergeant Cuff's boots ought to be ashamed -of himself." Nancy, the kitchen-maid, went last. Remained a minute -or two. Report, on coming out: "Sergeant Cuff has a heart; -HE doesn't cut jokes, Mr. Betteredge, with a poor hard-working -girl." - -Going into the Court of Justice, when it was all over, to hear if there -were any further commands for me, I found the Sergeant at his old trick-- -looking out of window, and whistling "The Last Rose of Summer" -to himself. - -"Any discoveries, sir?" I inquired. - -"If Rosanna Spearman asks leave to go out," said the Sergeant, -"let the poor thing go; but let me know first." - -I might as well have held my tongue about Rosanna and Mr. Franklin! -It was plain enough; the unfortunate girl had fallen under Sergeant -Cuff's suspicions, in spite of all I could do to prevent it. - -"I hope you don't think Rosanna is concerned in the loss of the Diamond?" -I ventured to say. - -The corners of the Sergeant's melancholy mouth curled up, -and he looked hard in my face, just as he had looked in the garden. - -"I think I had better not tell you, Mr. Betteredge," he said. -"You might lose your head, you know, for the second time." - -I began to doubt whether I had been one too many for the celebrated Cuff, -after all! It was rather a relief to me that we were interrupted -here by a knock at the door, and a message from the cook. -Rosanna Spearman HAD asked to go out, for the usual reason, -that her head was bad, and she wanted a breath of fresh air. -At a sign from the Sergeant, I said, Yes. "Which is the servants' -way out?" he asked, when the messenger had gone. I showed -him the servants' way out. "Lock the door of your room," -says the Sergeant; "and if anybody asks for me, say I'm in there, -composing my mind." He curled up again at the corners of the lips, -and disappeared. - -Left alone, under those circumstances, a devouring curiosity pushed me -on to make some discoveries for myself. - -It was plain that Sergeant Cuff's suspicions of Rosanna had been roused -by something that he had found out at his examination of the servants -in my room. Now, the only two servants (excepting Rosanna herself) -who had remained under examination for any length of time, were my lady's own -maid and the first housemaid, those two being also the women who had taken -the lead in persecuting their unfortunate fellow-servant from the first. -Reaching these conclusions, I looked in on them, casually as it might be, -in the servants' hall, and, finding tea going forward, instantly invited -myself to that meal. (For, NOTA BENE, a drop of tea is to a woman's tongue -what a drop of oil is to a wasting lamp.) - -My reliance on the tea-pot, as an ally, did not go unrewarded. -In less than half an hour I knew as much as the Sergeant himself. - -My lady's maid and the housemaid, had, it appeared, neither of them -believed in Rosanna's illness of the previous day. These two devils-- -I ask your pardon; but how else CAN you describe a couple of spiteful women?-- -had stolen up-stairs, at intervals during the Thursday afternoon; had tried -Rosanna's door, and found it locked; had knocked, and not been answered; -had listened, and not heard a sound inside. When the girl had come -down to tea, and had been sent up, still out of sorts, to bed again, -the two devils aforesaid had tried her door once more, and found it locked; -had looked at the keyhole, and found it stopped up; had seen a light -under the door at midnight, and had heard the crackling of a fire (a fire -in a servant's bed-room in the month of June!) at four in the morning. -All this they had told Sergeant Cuff, who, in return for their anxiety -to enlighten him, had eyed them with sour and suspicious looks, and had -shown them plainly that he didn't believe either one or the other. -Hence, the unfavourable reports of him which these two women had brought -out with them from the examination. Hence, also (without reckoning -the influence of the tea-pot), their readiness to let their tongues run -to any length on the subject of the Sergeant's ungracious behaviour -to them. - -Having had some experience of the great Cuff's round-about ways, -and having last seen him evidently bent on following Rosanna -privately when she went out for her walk, it seemed clear to me -that he had thought it unadvisable to let the lady's maid -and the housemaid know how materially they had helped him. -They were just the sort of women, if he had treated their evidence -as trustworthy, to have been puffed up by it, and to have said -or done something which would have put Rosanna Spearman on -her guard. - -I walked out in the fine summer afternoon, very sorry for the poor girl, -and very uneasy in my mind at the turn things had taken. -Drifting towards the shrubbery, some time later, there I met Mr. Franklin. -After returning from seeing his cousin off at the station, -he had been with my lady, holding a long conversation with her. -She had told him of Miss Rachel's unaccountable refusal to let her -wardrobe be examined; and had put him in such low spirits about my -young lady that he seemed to shrink from speaking on the subject. -The family temper appeared in his face that evening, for the first time in -my experience of him. - -"Well, Betteredge," he said, "how does the atmosphere of mystery -and suspicion in which we are all living now, agree with you? -Do you remember that morning when I first came here with the Moonstone? -I wish to God we had thrown it into the quicksand!" - -After breaking out in that way, he abstained from speaking -again until he had composed himself. We walked silently, -side by side, for a minute or two, and then he asked me -what had become of Sergeant Cuff. It was impossible to put -Mr. Franklin off with the excuse of the Sergeant being in my room, -composing his mind. I told him exactly what had happened, -mentioning particularly what my lady's maid and the house-maid -had said about Rosanna Spearman. - -Mr. Franklin's clear head saw the turn the Sergeant's suspicions had taken, -in the twinkling of an eye. - -"Didn't you tell me this morning," he said, "that one of the tradespeople -declared he had met Rosanna yesterday, on the footway to Frizinghall, -when we supposed her to be ill in her room?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"If my aunt's maid and the other woman have spoken the truth, -you may depend upon it the tradesman did meet her. -The girl's attack of illness was a blind to deceive us. -She had some guilty reason for going to the town secretly. -The paint-stained dress is a dress of hers; and the fire heard -crackling in her room at four in the morning was a fire lit -to destroy it. Rosanna Spearman has stolen the Diamond. -I'll go in directly, and tell my aunt the turn things -have taken." - -"Not just yet, if you please, sir," said a melancholy voice behind us. - -We both turned about, and found ourselves face to face with Sergeant Cuff. - -"Why not just yet?" asked Mr. Franklin. - -"Because, sir, if you tell her ladyship, her ladyship will tell -Miss Verinder." - -"Suppose she does. What then?" Mr. Franklin said those words with a sudden -heat and vehemence, as if the Sergeant had mortally offended him. - -"Do you think it's wise, sir," said Sergeant Cuff, quietly, "to put -such a question as that to me--at such a time as this?" - -There was a moment's silence between them: Mr. Franklin walked close -up to the Sergeant. The two looked each other straight in the face. -Mr. Franklin spoke first, dropping his voice as suddenly as he had -raised it. - -"I suppose you know, Mr. Cuff," he said, "that you are treading -on delicate ground?" - -"It isn't the first time, by a good many hundreds, that I -find myself treading on delicate ground," answered the other, -as immovable as ever. - -"I am to understand that you forbid me to tell my aunt what has happened?" - -"You are to understand, if you please, sir, that I throw up the case, -if you tell Lady Verinder, or tell anybody, what has happened, until I -give you leave." - -That settled it. Mr. Franklin had no choice but to submit. -He turned away in anger--and left us. - -I had stood there listening to them, all in a tremble; not knowing -whom to suspect, or what to think next. In the midst of my confusion, -two things, however, were plain to me. First, that my young lady was, -in some unaccountable manner, at the bottom of the sharp speeches that had -passed between them. Second, that they thoroughly understood each other, -without having previously exchanged a word of explanation on either side. - -"Mr. Betteredge," says the Sergeant, "you have done a very foolish thing in -my absence. You have done a little detective business on your own account. -For the future, perhaps you will be so obliging as to do your detective -business along with me." - -He took me by the arm, and walked me away with him along the road -by which he had come. I dare say I had deserved his reproof-- -but I was not going to help him to set traps for Rosanna Spearman, -for all that. Thief or no thief, legal or not legal, I don't care-- -I pitied her. - -"What do you want of me?" I asked, shaking him off, and stopping short. - -"Only a little information about the country round here," -said the Sergeant. - -I couldn't well object to improve Sergeant Cuff in his geography. - -"Is there any path, in that direction, leading to the sea-beach -from this house?" asked the Sergeant. He pointed, as he spoke, -to the fir-plantation which led to the Shivering Sand. - -"Yes," I said, "there is a path." - -"Show it to me." - -Side by side, in the grey of the summer evening, Sergeant Cuff and I -set forth for the Shivering Sand. - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -The Sergeant remained silent, thinking his own thoughts, till we -entered the plantation of firs which led to the quicksand. -There he roused himself, like a man whose mind was made up, -and spoke to me again. - -"Mr. Betteredge," he said, "as you have honoured me by taking an oar -in my boat, and as you may, I think, be of some assistance to me before -the evening is out, I see no use in our mystifying one another any longer, -and I propose to set you an example of plain speaking on my side. You are -determined to give me no information to the prejudice of Rosanna Spearman, -because she has been a good girl to YOU, and because you pity her heartily. -Those humane considerations do you a world of credit, but they happen -in this instance to be humane considerations clean thrown away. -Rosanna Spearman is not in the slightest danger of getting into trouble-- -no, not if I fix her with being concerned in the disappearance of the Diamond, -on evidence which is as plain as the nose on your face!" - -"Do you mean that my lady won't prosecute?" I asked. - -"I mean that your lady CAN'T prosecute," said the Sergeant. -"Rosanna Spearman is simply an instrument in the hands -of another person, and Rosanna Spearman will be held harmless -for that other person's sake." - -He spoke like a man in earnest--there was no denying that. -Still, I felt something stirring uneasily against him in my mind. -"Can't you give that other person a name?" I said. - -"Can't you, Mr. Betteredge?" - -"No." - -Sergeant Cuff stood stock still, and surveyed me with a look -of melancholy interest. - -"It's always a pleasure to me to be tender towards human infirmity," -he said. "I feel particularly tender at the present moment, -Mr. Betteredge, towards you. And you, with the same excellent motive, -feel particularly tender towards Rosanna Spearman, don't you? -Do you happen to know whether she has had a new outfit of -linen lately?" - -What he meant by slipping in this extraordinary question unawares, -I was at a total loss to imagine. Seeing no possible injury -to Rosanna if I owned the truth, I answered that the girl had -come to us rather sparely provided with linen, and that my lady, -in recompense for her good conduct (I laid a stress on her good -conduct), had given her a new outfit not a fortnight since. - -"This is a miserable world," says the Sergeant. "Human life, -Mr. Betteredge, is a sort of target--misfortune is always firing -at it, and always hitting the mark. But for that outfit, -we should have discovered a new nightgown or petticoat -among Rosanna's things, and have nailed her in that way. -You're not at a loss to follow me, are you? You have examined -the servants yourself, and you know what discoveries two of them -made outside Rosanna's door. Surely you know what the girl -was about yesterday, after she was taken ill? You can't guess? -Oh dear me, it's as plain as that strip of light there, -at the end of the trees. At eleven, on Thursday morning, -Superintendent Seegrave (who is a mass of human infirmity) -points out to all the women servants the smear on the door. -Rosanna has her own reasons for suspecting her own things; -she takes the first opportunity of getting to her room, -finds the paint-stain on her night-gown, or petticoat, -or what not, shams ill and slips away to the town, -gets the materials for making a new petticoat or nightgown, -makes it alone in her room on the Thursday night lights a fire -(not to destroy it; two of her fellow-servants are prying outside -her door, and she knows better than to make a smell of burning, -and to have a lot of tinder to get rid of)--lights a fire, I say, -to dry and iron the substitute dress after wringing it out, -keeps the stained dress hidden (probably ON her), and is at this -moment occupied in making away with it, in some convenient place, -on that lonely bit of beach ahead of us. I have traced her this -evening to your fishing village, and to one particular cottage, -which we may possibly have to visit, before we go back. -She stopped in the cottage for some time, and she came -out with (as I believe) something hidden under her cloak. -A cloak (on a woman's back) is an emblem of charity-- -it covers a multitude of sins. I saw her set off northwards -along the coast, after leaving the cottage. Is your sea-shore -here considered a fine specimen of marine landscape, -Mr. Betteredge?" - -I answered, "Yes," as shortly as might be. - -"Tastes differ," says Sergeant Cuff. "Looking at it from my point -of view, I never saw a marine landscape that I admired less. -If you happen to be following another person along your -sea-coast, and if that person happens to look round, there isn't -a scrap of cover to hide you anywhere. I had to choose -between taking Rosanna in custody on suspicion, or leaving her, -for the time being, with her little game in her own hands. -For reasons which I won't trouble you with, I decided on making -any sacrifice rather than give the alarm as soon as to-night -to a certain person who shall be nameless between us. -I came back to the house to ask you to take me to the north end -of the beach by another way. Sand--in respect of its printing off -people's footsteps--is one of the best detective officers I know. -If we don't meet with Rosanna Spearman by coming round on -her in this way, the sand may tell us what she has been at, -if the light only lasts long enough. Here IS the sand. -If you will excuse my suggesting it--suppose you hold your tongue, -and let me go first?" - -If there is such a thing known at the doctor's shop as a DETECTIVE-FEVER, -that disease had now got fast hold of your humble servant. Sergeant Cuff -went on between the hillocks of sand, down to the beach. I followed him -(with my heart in my mouth); and waited at a little distance for what was to -happen next. - -As it turned out, I found myself standing nearly in the same place -where Rosanna Spearman and I had been talking together when Mr. Franklin -suddenly appeared before us, on arriving at our house from London. -While my eyes were watching the Sergeant, my mind wandered away in spite -of me to what had passed, on that former occasion, between Rosanna and me. -I declare I almost felt the poor thing slip her hand again into mine, -and give it a little grateful squeeze to thank me for speaking kindly to her. -I declare I almost heard her voice telling me again that the Shivering -Sand seemed to draw her to it against her own will, whenever she went out-- -almost saw her face brighten again, as it brightened when she first set -eyes upon Mr. Franklin coming briskly out on us from among the hillocks. -My spirits fell lower and lower as I thought of these things--and the view -of the lonesome little bay, when I looked about to rouse myself, only served -to make me feel more uneasy still. - -The last of the evening light was fading away; and over -all the desolate place there hung a still and awful calm. -The heave of the main ocean on the great sandbank out in the bay, -was a heave that made no sound. The inner sea lay lost and dim, -without a breath of wind to stir it. Patches of nasty -ooze floated, yellow-white, on the dead surface of the water. -Scum and slime shone faintly in certain places, where the last -of the light still caught them on the two great spits of rock -jutting out, north and south, into the sea. It was now the time -of the turn of the tide: and even as I stood there waiting, -the broad brown face of the quicksand began to dimple and quiver-- -the only moving thing in all the horrid place. - -I saw the Sergeant start as the shiver of the sand caught his eye. -After looking at it for a minute or so, he turned and came back -to me. - -"A treacherous place, Mr. Betteredge," he said; "and no signs -of Rosanna Spearman anywhere on the beach, look where you may." - -He took me down lower on the shore, and I saw for myself that his footsteps -and mine were the only footsteps printed off on the sand. - -"How does the fishing village bear, standing where we are now?" -asked Sergeant Cuff. - -"Cobb's Hole," I answered (that being the name of the place), "bears -as near as may be, due south." - -"I saw the girl this evening, walking northward along the shore, -from Cobb's Hole," said the Sergeant. "Consequently, she must have -been walking towards this place. Is Cobb's Hole on the other side -of that point of land there? And can we get to it--now it's low water-- -by the beach?" - -I answered, "Yes," to both those questions. - -"If you'll excuse my suggesting it, we'll step out briskly," -said the Sergeant. "I want to find the place where she left -the shore, before it gets dark." - -We had walked, I should say, a couple of hundred yards towards Cobb's Hole, -when Sergeant Cuff suddenly went down on his knees on the beach, to all -appearance seized with a sudden frenzy for saying his prayers. - -"There's something to be said for your marine landscape here, after all," -remarked the Sergeant. "Here are a woman's footsteps, Mr. Betteredge! -Let us call them Rosanna's footsteps, until we find evidence to the contrary -that we can't resist. Very confused footsteps, you will please to observe-- -purposely confused, I should say. Ah, poor soul, she understands -the detective virtues of sand as well as I do! But hasn't she been -in rather too great a hurry to tread out the marks thoroughly? -I think she has. Here's one footstep going FROM Cobb's Hole; -and here is another going back to it. Isn't that the toe of her -shoe pointing straight to the water's edge? And don't I see two -heel-marks further down the beach, close at the water's edge also? -I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'm afraid Rosanna is sly. -It looks as if she had determined to get to that place you and I have -just come from, without leaving any marks on the sand to trace her by. -Shall we say that she walked through the water from this point till -she got to that ledge of rocks behind us, and came back the same way, -and then took to the beach again where those two heel marks are -still left? Yes, we'll say that. It seems to fit in with my notion -that she had something under her cloak, when she left the cottage. -No! not something to destroy--for, in that case, where would have been -the need of all these precautions to prevent my tracing the place at -which her walk ended? Something to hide is, I think, the better guess -of the two. Perhaps, if we go on to the cottage, we may find out what that -something is?" - -At this proposal, my detective-fever suddenly cooled. "You don't want me," -I said. "What good can I do?" - -"The longer I know you, Mr. Betteredge," said the Sergeant, -"the more virtues I discover. Modesty--oh dear me, how rare -modesty is in this world! and how much of that rarity you possess! -If I go alone to the cottage, the people's tongues will be -tied at the first question I put to them. If I go with you, -I go introduced by a justly respected neighbour, and a flow of -conversation is the necessary result. It strikes me in that light; -how does it strike you?" - -Not having an answer of the needful smartness as ready as I could have wished, -I tried to gain time by asking him what cottage he wanted to go to. - -On the Sergeant describing the place, I recognised it -as a cottage inhabited by a fisherman named Yolland, -with his wife and two grown-up children, a son and a daughter. -If you will look back, you will find that, in first presenting -Rosanna Spearman to your notice, I have described her -as occasionally varying her walk to the Shivering Sand, -by a visit to some friends of hers at Cobb's Hole. -Those friends were the Yollands--respectable, worthy people, -a credit to the neighbourhood. Rosanna's acquaintance with them -had begun by means of the daughter, who was afflicted with a -misshapen foot, and who was known in our parts by the name -of Limping Lucy. The two deformed girls had, I suppose, -a kind of fellow-feeling for each other. Anyway, the Yollands -and Rosanna always appeared to get on together, at the few -chances they had of meeting, in a pleasant and friendly manner. -The fact of Sergeant Cuff having traced the girl to THEIR cottage, -set the matter of my helping his inquiries in quite a new light. -Rosanna had merely gone where she was in the habit of going; -and to show that she had been in company with the fisherman and -his family was as good as to prove that she had been innocently -occupied so far, at any rate. It would be doing the girl -a service, therefore, instead of an injury, if I allowed myself -to be convinced by Sergeant Cuff's logic. I professed myself -convinced by it accordingly. - -We went on to Cobb's Hole, seeing the footsteps on the sand, -as long as the light lasted. - -On reaching the cottage, the fisherman and his son proved to be out -in the boat; and Limping Lucy, always weak and weary, was resting on -her bed up-stairs. Good Mrs. Yolland received us alone in her kitchen. -When she heard that Sergeant Cuff was a celebrated character in London, -she clapped a bottle of Dutch gin and a couple of clean pipes on the table, -and stared as if she could never see enough of him. - -I sat quiet in a corner, waiting to hear how the Sergeant would -find his way to the subject of Rosanna Spearman. His usual -roundabout manner of going to work proved, on this occasion, -to be more roundabout than ever. How he managed it is more -than I could tell at the time, and more than I can tell now. -But this is certain, he began with the Royal Family, -the Primitive Methodists, and the price of fish; and he got from that -(in his dismal, underground way) to the loss of the Moonstone, -the spitefulness of our first house-maid, and the hard behaviour -of the women-servants generally towards Rosanna Spearman. -Having reached his subject in this fashion, he described himself -as making his inquiries about the lost Diamond, partly with a view -to find it, and partly for the purpose of clearing Rosanna -from the unjust suspicions of her enemies in the house. -In about a quarter of an hour from the time when we entered -the kitchen, good Mrs. Yolland was persuaded that she was -talking to Rosanna's best friend, and was pressing Sergeant -Cuff to comfort his stomach and revive his spirits out of the -Dutch bottle. - -Being firmly persuaded that the Sergeant was wasting his breath -to no purpose on Mrs. Yolland, I sat enjoying the talk between them, -much as I have sat, in my time, enjoying a stage play. -The great Cuff showed a wonderful patience; trying his luck -drearily this way and that way, and firing shot after shot, -as it were, at random, on the chance of hitting the mark. -Everything to Rosanna's credit, nothing to Rosanna's prejudice-- -that was how it ended, try as he might; with Mrs. Yolland -talking nineteen to the dozen, and placing the most entire -confidence in him. His last effort was made, when we had -looked at our watches, and had got on our legs previous to -taking leave. - -"I shall now wish you good-night, ma'am," says the Sergeant. -"And I shall only say, at parting, that Rosanna Spearman has -a sincere well-wisher in myself, your obedient servant. -But, oh dear me! she will never get on in her present place; -and my advice to her is--leave it." - -"Bless your heart alive! she is GOING to leave it!" cries Mrs. Yolland. -(NOTA BENE--I translate Mrs. Yolland out of the Yorkshire language into -the English language. When I tell you that the all-accomplished Cuff -was every now and then puzzled to understand her until I helped him, -you will draw your own conclusions as to what your state of mind would be if I -reported her in her native tongue.) - -Rosanna Spearman going to leave us! I pricked up my ears at that. -It seemed strange, to say the least of it, that she should have -given no warning, in the first place, to my lady or to me. -A certain doubt came up in my mind whether Sergeant Cuff's last random -shot might not have hit the mark. I began to question whether my share -in the proceedings was quite as harmless a one as I had thought it. -It might be all in the way of the Sergeant's business to mystify -an honest woman by wrapping her round in a network of lies -but it was my duty to have remembered, as a good Protestant, -that the father of lies is the Devil--and that mischief and the Devil -are never far apart. Beginning to smell mischief in the air, -I tried to take Sergeant Cuff out. He sat down again instantly, -and asked for a little drop of comfort out of the Dutch bottle. -Mrs Yolland sat down opposite to him, and gave him his nip. -I went on to the door, excessively uncomfortable, and said I thought I -must bid them good-night--and yet I didn't go. - -"So she means to leave?" says the Sergeant. "What is she to do when she -does leave? Sad, sad! The poor creature has got no friends in the world, -except you and me." - -"Ah, but she has though!" says Mrs. Yolland. "She came in here, -as I told you, this evening; and, after sitting and talking a little -with my girl Lucy and me she asked to go up-stairs by herself, -into Lucy's room. It's the only room in our place where there's -pen and ink. "I want to write a letter to a friend," she says -"and I can't do it for the prying and peeping of the servants up -at the house." Who the letter was written to I can't tell you: -it must have been a mortal long one, judging by the time she stopped -up-stairs over it. I offered her a postage-stamp when she came down. -She hadn't got the letter in her hand, and she didn't accept the stamp. -A little close, poor soul (as you know), about herself and her doings. -But a friend she has got somewhere, I can tell you; and to that friend -you may depend upon it, she will go." - -"Soon?" asked the Sergeant. - -"As soon as she can." says Mrs. Yolland. - -Here I stepped in again from the door. As chief of my lady's establishment, -I couldn't allow this sort of loose talk about a servant of ours going, -or not going, to proceed any longer in my presence, without noticing it. - -"You must be mistaken about Rosanna Spearman, I said. -"If she had been going to leave her present situation, she would -have mentioned it, in the first place, to ME. - -"Mistaken?" cries Mrs. Yolland. "Why, only an hour ago she bought some things -she wanted for travelling--of my own self, Mr. Betteredge, in this very room. -And that reminds me," says the wearisome woman, suddenly beginning to feel -in her pocket, "of something I have got it on my mind to say about Rosanna -and her money. Are you either of you likely to see her when you go back to -the house?" - -"I'll take a message to the poor thing, with the greatest pleasure," -answered Sergeant Cuff, before I could put in a word edgewise. - -Mrs. Yolland produced out of her pocket, a few shillings and sixpences, -and counted them out with a most particular and exasperating carefulness -in the palm of her hand. She offered the money to the Sergeant, -looking mighty loth to part with it all the while. - -"Might I ask you to give this back to Rosanna, with my love -and respects?" says Mrs. Yolland. "She insisted on paying me -for the one or two things she took a fancy to this evening-- -and money's welcome enough in our house, I don't deny it. -Still, I m not easy in my mind about taking the poor thing's -little savings. And to tell you the truth, I don't think my man -would like to hear that I had taken Rosanna Spearman's money, -when he comes back to-morrow morning from his work. Please say -she's heartily welcome to the things she bought of me--as a gift. -And don't leave the money on the table," says Mrs. Yolland, -putting it down suddenly before the Sergeant, as if it burnt -her fingers--"don't, there's a good man! For times are hard, -and flesh is weak; and I MIGHT feel tempted to put it back in my -pocket again." - -"Come along!" I said, "I can't wait any longer: I must go back -to the house." - -"I'll follow you directly," says Sergeant Cuff. - -For the second time, I went to the door; and, for the second time, -try as I might, I couldn't cross the threshold. - -"It's a delicate matter, ma'am," I heard the Sergeant say, -"giving money back. You charged her cheap for the things, -I'm sure?" - -"Cheap!" says Mrs. Yolland. "Come and judge for yourself." - -She took up the candle and led the Sergeant to a corner of the kitchen. -For the life of me, I couldn't help following them. Shaken down in the corner -was a heap of odds and ends (mostly old metal), which the fisherman had picked -up at different times from wrecked ships, and which he hadn't found a market -for yet, to his own mind. Mrs. Yolland dived into this rubbish, and brought -up an old japanned tin case, with a cover to it, and a hasp to hang it up by-- -the sort of thing they use, on board ship, for keeping their maps and charts, -and such-like, from the wet. - -"There!" says she. "When Rosanna came in this evening, she bought the fellow -to that. 'It will just do,' she says, 'to put my cuffs and collars in, -and keep them from being crumpled in my box.' One and ninepence, Mr. Cuff. -As I live by bread, not a halfpenny more!" - -"Dirt cheap!" says the Sergeant, with a heavy sigh. - -He weighed the case in his hand. I thought I heard a note or two of "The -Last Rose of Summer" as he looked at it. There was no doubt now! -He had made another discovery to the prejudice of Rosanna Spearman, -in the place of all others where I thought her character was safest, -and all through me! I leave you to imagine what I felt, and how sincerely -I repented having been the medium of introduction between Mrs. Yolland and -Sergeant Cuff. - -"That will do," I said. "We really must go." - -Without paying the least attention to me, Mrs. Yolland took -another dive into the rubbish, and came up out of it, this time, -with a dog-chain. - -"Weigh it in your hand, sir," she said to the Sergeant. -"We had three of these; and Rosanna has taken two of them. -'What can you want, my dear, with a couple of dog's chains?' -says I. 'If I join them together they'll do round my box nicely,' -says she. 'Rope's cheapest,' says I. 'Chain's surest,' -says she. 'Who ever heard of a box corded with chain,' -says I. 'Oh, Mrs. Yolland, don't make objections!' says she; -'let me have my chains!' A strange girl, Mr. Cuff-- -good as gold, and kinder than a sister to my Lucy--but always -a little strange. There! I humoured her. Three and sixpence. -On the word of an honest woman, three and sixpence, -Mr. Cuff!" - -"Each?" says the Sergeant. - -"Both together!" says Mrs. Yolland. "Three and sixpence for the two." - -"Given away, ma'am," says the Sergeant, shaking his head. -"Clean given away!" - -"There's the money," says Mrs. Yolland, getting back sideways to the little -heap of silver on the table, as if it drew her in spite of herself. -"The tin case and the dog chains were all she bought, and all she took away. -One and ninepence and three and sixpence--total, five and three. -With my love and respects--and I can't find it in my conscience to take a poor -girl's savings, when she may want them herself." - -"I can't find it in MY conscience, ma'am, to give the money back," -says Sergeant Cuff. "You have as good as made her a present of the things-- -you have indeed." - -"Is that your sincere opinion, sir?" says Mrs. Yolland brightening -up wonderfully. - -"There can't be a doubt about it," answered the Sergeant. -"Ask Mr. Betteredge." - -It was no use asking ME. All they got out of ME was, "Good-night." - -"Bother the money!" says Mrs. Yolland. With these words, she appeared to lose -all command over herself; and, making a sudden snatch at the heap of silver, -put it back, holus-bolus, in her pocket. "It upsets one's temper, it does, -to see it lying there, and nobody taking it," cries this unreasonable woman, -sitting down with a thump, and looking at Sergeant Cuff, as much as to say, -"It's in my pocket again now--get it out if you can!" - -This time, I not only went to the door, but went fairly out on the road back. -Explain it how you may, I felt as if one or both of them had mortally -offended me. Before I had taken three steps down the village, I heard -the Sergeant behind me. - -"Thank you for your introduction, Mr. Betteredge," he said. -"I am indebted to the fisherman's wife for an entirely new sensation. -Mrs. Yolland has puzzled me." - -It was on the tip of my tongue to have given him a sharp answer, -for no better reason than this--that I was out of temper with him, -because I was out of temper with myself. But when he owned -to being puzzled, a comforting doubt crossed my mind whether any -great harm had been done after all. I waited in discreet silence -to hear more. - -"Yes," says the Sergeant, as if he was actually reading my -thoughts in the dark. "Instead of putting me on the scent, -it may console you to know, Mr. Betteredge (with your interest -in Rosanna), that you have been the means of throwing me off. -What the girl has done, to-night, is clear enough, of course. -She has joined the two chains, and has fastened them to -the hasp in the tin case. She has sunk the case, in the water -or in the quicksand. She has made the loose end of the chain -fast to some place under the rocks, known only to herself. -And she will leave the case secure at its anchorage till -the present proceedings have come to an end; after which she -can privately pull it up again out of its hiding-place, -at her own leisure and convenience. All perfectly plain, -so far. But," says the Sergeant, with the first tone of impatience -in his voice that I had heard yet, "the mystery is--what the devil -has she hidden in the tin case?" - -I thought to myself, "The Moonstone!" But I only said to Sergeant Cuff, -"Can't you guess?" - -"It's not the Diamond," says the Sergeant. "The whole experience -of my life is at fault, if Rosanna Spearman has got the Diamond." - -On hearing those words, the infernal detective-fever began, -I suppose, to burn in me again. At any rate, I forgot myself -in the interest of guessing this new riddle. I said rashly, -"The stained dress!" - -Sergeant Cuff stopped short in the dark, and laid his hand on my arm. - -"Is anything thrown into that quicksand of yours, ever thrown up -on the surface again?" he asked. - -"Never," I answered. "Light or heavy whatever goes into the Shivering -Sand is sucked down, and seen no more." - -"Does Rosanna Spearman know that?" - -"She knows it as well as I do." - -"Then," says the Sergeant, "what on earth has she got to do but to tie -up a bit of stone in the stained dress and throw it into the quicksand? -There isn't the shadow of a reason why she should have hidden it--and yet -she must have hidden it. Query," says the Sergeant, walking on again, -"is the paint-stained dress a petticoat or a night-gown? or is it -something else which there is a reason for preserving at any risk? -Mr. Betteredge, if nothing occurs to prevent it, I must go to Frizinghall -to-morrow, and discover what she bought in the town, when she privately -got the materials for making the substitute dress. It's a risk to leave -the house, as things are now--but it's a worse risk still to stir another -step in this matter in the dark. Excuse my being a little out of temper; -I'm degraded in my own estimation--I have let Rosanna Spearman -puzzle me." - -When we got back, the servants were at supper. The first person -we saw in the outer yard was the policeman whom Superintendent -Seegrave had left at the Sergeant's disposal. The Sergeant asked -if Rosanna Spearman had returned. Yes. When? Nearly an hour since. -What had she done? She had gone up-stairs to take off her bonnet -and cloak--and she was now at supper quietly with the rest. - -Without making any remark, Sergeant Cuff walked on, sinking lower -and lower in his own estimation, to the back of the house. -Missing the entrance in the dark, he went on (in spite of my calling -to him) till he was stopped by a wicket-gate which led into the garden. -When I joined him to bring him back by the right way, I found -that he was looking up attentively at one particular window, -on the bed-room floor, at the back of the house. - -Looking up, in my turn, I discovered that the object of his contemplation -was the window of Miss Rachel's room, and that lights were passing backwards -and forwards there as if something unusual was going on. - -"Isn't that Miss Verinder's room?" asked Sergeant Cuff. - -I replied that it was, and invited him to go in with me to supper. -The Sergeant remained in his place, and said something about enjoying -the smell of the garden at night. I left him to his enjoyment. -Just as I was turning in at the door, I heard "The Last Rose of Summer" -at the wicket-gate. Sergeant Cuff had made another discovery! -And my young lady's window was at the bottom of it this time! - -The latter reflection took me back again to the Sergeant, with a polite -intimation that I could not find it in my heart to leave him by himself. -"Is there anything you don't understand up there?" I added, pointing to Miss -Rachel's window. - -Judging by his voice, Sergeant Cuff had suddenly risen again to the right -place in his own estimation. "You are great people for betting in Yorkshire, -are you not?" he asked. - -"Well?" I said. "Suppose we are?" - -"If I was a Yorkshireman," proceeded the Sergeant, taking my arm, -"I would lay you an even sovereign, Mr. Betteredge, -that your young lady has suddenly resolved to leave the house. -If I won on that event, I should offer to lay another sovereign, -that the idea has occurred to her within the last hour." -The first of the Sergeant's guesses startled me. -The second mixed itself up somehow in my head with the report -we had heard from the policeman, that Rosanna Spearman -had returned from the sands with in the last hour. The two -together had a curious effect on me as we went in to supper. -I shook off Sergeant Cuff's arm, and, forgetting my manners, -pushed by him through the door to make my own inquiries -for myself. - -Samuel, the footman, was the first person I met in the passage. - -"Her ladyship is waiting to see you and Sergeant Cuff," he said, -before I could put any questions to him. - -"How long has she been waiting?" asked the Sergeant's voice behind me. - -"For the last hour, sir." - -There it was again! Rosanna had come back; Miss Rachel -had taken some resolution out of the common; and my lady had -been waiting to see the Sergeant--all within the last hour! -It was not pleasant to find these very different persons and things -linking themselves together in this way. I went on upstairs, -without looking at Sergeant Cuff, or speaking to him. -My hand took a sudden fit of trembling as I lifted it to knock -at my mistress's door. - -"I shouldn't be surprised," whispered the Sergeant over my shoulder, -"if a scandal was to burst up in the house to-night. Don't be alarmed! -I have put the muzzle on worse family difficulties than this, -in my time." - -As he said the words I heard my mistress's voice calling to us to come in. - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -We found my lady with no light in the room but the reading-lamp. -The shade was screwed down so as to overshadow her face. -Instead of looking up at us in her usual straightforward way, -she sat close at the table, and kept her eyes fixed obstinately on -an open book. - -"Officer," she said, "is it important to the inquiry you are conducting, -to know beforehand if any person now in this house wishes to leave it?" - -"Most important, my lady." - -"I have to tell you, then, that Miss Verinder proposes going -to stay with her aunt, Mrs. Ablewhite, of Frizinghall. -She has arranged to leave us the first thing to-morrow morning." - -Sergeant Cuff looked at me. I made a step forward to speak to my mistress-- -and, feeling my heart fail me (if I must own it), took a step back again, -and said nothing. - -"May I ask your ladyship WHEN Miss Verinder informed you that she -was going to her aunt's?" inquired the Sergeant. - -"About an hour since," answered my mistress. - -Sergeant Cuff looked at me once more. They say old people's hearts -are not very easily moved. My heart couldn't have thumped much -harder than it did now, if I had been five-and-twenty again! - -"I have no claim, my lady," says the Sergeant, "to control -Miss Verinder's actions. All I can ask you to do is to put -off her departure, if possible, till later in the day. -I must go to Frizinghall myself to-morrow morning--and I shall -be back by two o'clock, if not before. If Miss Verinder can -be kept here till that time, I should wish to say two words -to her--unexpectedly--before she goes." - -My lady directed me to give the coachman her orders, that the carriage -was not to come for Miss Rachel until two o'clock. "Have you more to say?" -she asked of the Sergeant, when this had been done. - -"Only one thing, your ladyship. If Miss Verinder is surprised at this -change in the arrangements, please not to mention Me as being the cause -of putting off her journey." - -My mistress lifted her head suddenly from her book as if she was going -to say something--checked herself by a great effort--and, looking back -again at the open page, dismissed us with a sign of her hand. - -"That's a wonderful woman," said Sergeant Cuff, when we were -out in the hall again. "But for her self-control, the mystery -that puzzles you, Mr. Betteredge, would have been at an end to-night." - -At those words, the truth rushed at last into my stupid old head. -For the moment, I suppose I must have gone clean out of my senses. -I seized the Sergeant by the collar of his coat, and pinned him against -the wall. - -"Damn you!" I cried out, "there's something wrong about Miss Rachel-- -and you have been hiding it from me all this time!" - -Sergeant Cuff looked up at me--flat against the wall--without stirring a hand, -or moving a muscle of his melancholy face. - -"Ah," he said, "you've guessed it at last." - -My hand dropped from his collar, and my head sunk on my breast. -Please to remember, as some excuse for my breaking out -as I did, that I had served the family for fifty years. -Miss Rachel had climbed upon my knees, and pulled my whiskers, -many and many a time when she was a child. Miss Rachel, -with all her faults, had been, to my mind, the dearest and -prettiest and best young mistress that ever an old servant -waited on, and loved. I begged Sergeant's Cuff's pardon, -but I am afraid I did it with watery eyes, and not in a very -becoming way. - -"Don't distress yourself, Mr. Betteredge," says the Sergeant, -with more kindness than I had any right to expect from him. -"In my line of life if we were quick at taking offence, we shouldn't -be worth salt to our porridge. If it's any comfort to you, -collar me again. You don't in the least know how to do it; -but I'll overlook your awkwardness in consideration of -your feelings." - -He curled up at the corners of his lips, and, in his own dreary way, -seemed to think he had delivered himself of a very good joke. - -I led him into my own little sitting-room, and closed the door. - -"Tell me the truth, Sergeant," I said. "What do you suspect? -It's no kindness to hide it from me now." - -"I don't suspect," said Sergeant Cuff. "I know." - -My unlucky temper began to get the better of me again. - -"Do you mean to tell me, in plain English," I said, "that Miss Rachel -has stolen her own Diamond?" - -"Yes," says the Sergeant; "that is what I mean to tell you, in so many words. -Miss Verinder has been in secret possession of the Moonstone from -first to last; and she has taken Rosanna Spearman into her confidence, -because she has calculated on our suspecting Rosanna Spearman of the theft. -There is the whole case in a nutshell. Collar me again, Mr. Betteredge. -If it's any vent to your feelings, collar me again." - -God help me! my feelings were not to be relieved in that way. -"Give me your reasons!" That was all I could say to him. - -"You shall hear my reasons to-morrow," said the Sergeant. -"If Miss Verinder refuses to put off her visit to her aunt -(which you will find Miss Verinder will do), I shall be obliged -to lay the whole case before your mistress to-morrow. And, -as I don't know what may come of it, I shall request you -to be present, and to hear what passes on both sides. -Let the matter rest for to-night. No, Mr. Betteredge, you don't -get a word more on the subject of the Moonstone out of me. -There is your table spread for supper. That's one of -the many human infirmities which I always treat tenderly. -If you will ring the bell, I'll say grace. 'For what we are going -to receive----'" - -"I wish you a good appetite to it, Sergeant," I said. "My appetite is gone. -I'll wait and see you served, and then I'll ask you to excuse me, if I -go away, and try to get the better of this by myself." - -I saw him served with the best of everything--and I shouldn't -have been sorry if the best of everything had choked him. -The head gardener (Mr. Begbie) came in at the same time, -with his weekly account. The Sergeant got on the subject of roses -and the merits of grass walks and gravel walks immediately. -I left the two together, and went out with a heavy heart. -This was the first trouble I remember for many a long year -which wasn't to be blown off by a whiff of tobacco, and which was -even beyond the reach of ROBINSON CRUSOE. - -Being restless and miserable, and having no particular room to go to, -I took a turn on the terrace, and thought it over in peace and quietness -by myself. It doesn't much matter what my thoughts were. I felt -wretchedly old, and worn out, and unfit for my place--and began to wonder, -for the first time in my life, when it would please God to take me. -With all this, I held firm, notwithstanding, to my belief in Miss Rachel. -If Sergeant Cuff had been Solomon in all his glory, and had told me that -my young lady had mixed herself up in a mean and guilty plot, I should -have had but one answer for Solomon, wise as he was, "You don't know her; -and I do." - -My meditations were interrupted by Samuel. He brought me a written message -from my mistress. - -Going into the house to get a light to read it by, Samuel remarked -that there seemed a change coming in the weather. My troubled mind -had prevented me from noticing it before. But, now my attention -was roused, I heard the dogs uneasy, and the wind moaning low. -Looking up at the sky, I saw the rack of clouds getting blacker -and blacker, and hurrying faster and faster over a watery moon. -Wild weather coming--Samuel was right, wild weather coming. - -The message from my lady informed me, that the magistrate at -Frizinghall had written to remind her about the three Indians. -Early in the coming week, the rogues must needs be released, -and left free to follow their own devices. If we had any -more questions to ask them, there was no time to lose. -Having forgotten to mention this, when she had last seen -Sergeant Cuff, my mistress now desired me to supply the omission. -The Indians had gone clean out of my head (as they have, no doubt, -gone clean out of yours). I didn't see much use in stirring -that subject again. However, I obeyed my orders on the spot, -as a matter of course. - -I found Sergeant Cuff and the gardener, with a bottle of Scotch whisky -between them, head over ears in an argument on the growing of roses. -The Sergeant was so deeply interested that he held up his hand, -and signed to me not to interrupt the discussion, when I came in. -As far as I could understand it, the question between them was, -whether the white moss rose did, or did not, require to be budded -on the dog-rose to make it grow well. Mr. Begbie said, Yes; -and Sergeant Cuff said, No. They appealed to me, as hotly as a couple -of boys. Knowing nothing whatever about the growing of roses, -I steered a middle course--just as her Majesty's judges do, -when the scales of justice bother them by hanging even to a hair. -"Gentlemen," I remarked, "there is much to be said on both sides." -In the temporary lull produced by that impartial sentence, I laid -my lady's written message on the table, under the eyes of Sergeant -Cuff. - -I had got by this time, as nearly as might be, to hate the Sergeant. -But truth compels me to acknowledge that, in respect of readiness of mind, -he was a wonderful man. - -In half a minute after he had read the message, he had looked -back into his memory for Superintendent Seegrave's report; -had picked out that part of it in which the Indians were concerned; -and was ready with his answer. A certain great traveller, -who understood the Indians and their language, had figured -in Mr. Seegrave's report, hadn't he? Very well. Did I know -the gentleman's name and address? Very well again. Would I write -them on the back of my lady's message? Much obliged to me. -Sergeant Cuff would look that gentleman up, when he went to -Frizinghall in the morning. - -"Do you expect anything to come of it?" I asked. "Superintendent Seegrave -found the Indians as innocent as the babe unborn." - -"Superintendent Seegrave has been proved wrong, up to this time, -in all his conclusions," answered the Sergeant. "It may be worth -while to find out to-morrow whether Superintendent Seegrave was wrong -about the Indians as well." With that he turned to Mr. Begbie, and took -up the argument again exactly at the place where it had left off. -"This question between us is a question of soils and seasons, -and patience and pains, Mr. Gardener. Now let me put it to you from -another point of view. You take your white moss rose----" - -By that time, I had closed the door on them, and was out of hearing -of the rest of the dispute. - -In the passage, I met Penelope hanging about, and asked what she -was waiting for. - -She was waiting for her young lady's bell, when her young lady chose -to call her back to go on with the packing for the next day's journey. -Further inquiry revealed to me, that Miss Rachel had given it as a -reason for wanting to go to her aunt at Frizinghall, that the house -was unendurable to her, and that she could bear the odious presence -of a policeman under the same roof with herself no longer. -On being informed, half an hour since, that her departure would be -delayed till two in the afternoon, she had flown into a violent passion. -My lady, present at the time, had severely rebuked her, and then -(having apparently something to say, which was reserved for her -daughter's private ear) had sent Penelope out of the room. -My girl was in wretchedly low spirits about the changed state of things -in the house. "Nothing goes right, father; nothing is like what it -used to be. I feel as if some dreadful misfortune was hanging over -us all." - -That was my feeling too. But I put a good face on it, before my daughter. -Miss Rachel's bell rang while we were talking. Penelope ran up the back -stairs to go on with the packing. I went by the other way to the hall, to see -what the glass said about the change in the weather. - -Just as I approached the swing-door leading into the hall from -the servants' offices, it was violently opened from the other side, -and Rosanna Spearman ran by me, with a miserable look of pain -in her face, and one of her hands pressed hard over her heart, -as if the pang was in that quarter. "What's the matter, my girl?" -I asked, stopping her. "Are you ill?" "For God's sake, don't speak -to me," she answered, and twisted herself out of my hands, -and ran on towards the servants' staircase. I called to the cook -(who was within hearing) to look after the poor girl. -Two other persons proved to be within hearing, as well as the cook. -Sergeant Cuff darted softly out of my room, and asked what was the matter. -I answered, "Nothing." Mr. Franklin, on the other side, pulled open -the swing-door, and beckoning me into the hall, inquired if I had seen -anything of Rosanna Spearman. - -"She has just passed me, sir, with a very disturbed face, -and in a very odd manner." - -"I am afraid I am innocently the cause of that disturbance, Betteredge." - -"You, sir!" - -"I can't explain it," says Mr. Franklin; "but, if the girl IS concerned -in the loss of the Diamond, I do really believe she was on the point -of confessing everything--to me, of all the people in the world-- -not two minutes since." - -Looking towards the swing-door, as he said those last words, -I fancied I saw it opened a little way from the inner side. - -Was there anybody listening? The door fell to, before I could get to it. -Looking through, the moment after, I thought I saw the tails of Sergeant -Cuff's respectable black coat disappearing round the corner of the passage. -He knew, as well as I did, that he could expect no more help from me, now that -I had discovered the turn which his investigations were really taking. -Under those circumstances, it was quite in his character to help himself, -and to do it by the underground way. - -Not feeling sure that I had really seen the Sergeant-- -and not desiring to make needless mischief, where, Heaven knows, -there was mischief enough going on already--I told Mr. Franklin -that I thought one of the dogs had got into the house-- -and then begged him to describe what had happened between Rosanna -and himself. - -"Were you passing through the hall, sir?" I asked. "Did you meet -her accidentally, when she spoke to you?" - -Mr. Franklin pointed to the billiard-table. - -"I was knocking the balls about," he said, "and trying to get -this miserable business of the Diamond out of my mind. -I happened to look up--and there stood Rosanna Spearman at -the side of me, like a ghost! Her stealing on me in that way -was so strange, that I hardly knew what to do at first. -Seeing a very anxious expression in her face, I asked her if -she wished to speak to me. She answered, "Yes, if I dare." -Knowing what suspicion attached to her, I could only put -one construction on such language as that. I confess it made -me uncomfortable. I had no wish to invite the girl's confidence. -At the same time, in the difficulties that now beset us, -I could hardly feel justified in refusing to listen to her, if she -was really bent on speaking to me. It was an awkward position; -and I dare say I got out of it awkwardly enough. I said to her, -"I don't quite understand you. Is there anything you want -me to do?" Mind, Betteredge, I didn't speak unkindly! -The poor girl can't help being ugly--I felt that, at the time. -The cue was still in my hand, and I went on knocking -the balls about, to take off the awkwardness of the thing. -As it turned out, I only made matters worse still. I'm afraid -I mortified her without meaning it! She suddenly turned away. -"He looks at the billiard balls," I heard her say. -"Anything rather than look at ME!" Before I could stop her, -she had left the hall. I am not quite easy about it, Betteredge. -Would you mind telling Rosanna that I meant no unkindness? -I have been a little hard on her, perhaps, in my own thoughts--I have -almost hoped that the loss of the Diamond might be traced to HER. -Not from any ill-will to the poor girl: but----" He stopped there, -and going back to the billiard-table, began to knock the balls -about once more. - -After what had passed between the Sergeant and me, I knew what it -was that he had left unspoken as well as he knew it himself. - -Nothing but the tracing of the Moonstone to our second -housemaid could now raise Miss Rachel above the infamous -suspicion that rested on her in the mind of Sergeant Cuff. -It was no longer a question of quieting my young lady's -nervous excitement; it was a question of proving her innocence. -If Rosanna had done nothing to compromise herself, the hope -which Mr. Franklin confessed to having felt would have been hard -enough on her in all conscience. But this was not the case. -She had pretended to be ill, and had gone secretly to Frizinghall. -She had been up all night, making something or destroying something, -in private. And she had been at the Shivering Sand, -that evening, under circumstances which were highly suspicious, -to say the least of them. For all these reasons (sorry as I -was for Rosanna) I could not but think that Mr. Franklin's way -of looking at the matter was neither unnatural nor unreasonable, -in Mr. Franklin's position. I said a word to him to -that effect. - -"Yes, yes!" he said in return. "But there is just a chance-- -a very poor one, certainly--that Rosanna's conduct may admit -of some explanation which we don't see at present. I hate -hurting a woman's feelings, Betteredge! Tell the poor creature -what I told you to tell her. And if she wants to speak to me-- -I don't care whether I get into a scrape or not--send her to me -in the library." With those kind words he laid down the cue and -left me. - -Inquiry at the servants' offices informed me that Rosanna had retired -to her own room. She had declined all offers of assistance with thanks, -and had only asked to be left to rest in quiet. Here, therefore, was an end -of any confession on her part (supposing she really had a confession to make) -for that night. I reported the result to Mr. Franklin, who, thereupon, -left the library, and went up to bed. - -I was putting the lights out, and making the windows fast, -when Samuel came in with news of the two guests whom I had left -in my room. - -The argument about the white moss rose had apparently come to an end at last. -The gardener had gone home, and Sergeant Cuff was nowhere to be found in the -lower regions of the house. - -I looked into my room. Quite true--nothing was to be discovered -there but a couple of empty tumblers and a strong smell of hot grog. -Had the Sergeant gone of his own accord to the bed-chamber that was -prepared for him? I went up-stairs to see. - -After reaching the second landing, I thought I heard a sound of quiet -and regular breathing on my left-hand side. My left-hand side -led to the corridor which communicated with Miss Rachel's room. -I looked in, and there, coiled up on three chairs placed right across -the passage--there, with a red handkerchief tied round his grizzled head, -and his respectable black coat rolled up for a pillow, lay and slept -Sergeant Cuff! - -He woke, instantly and quietly, like a dog, the moment I approached him. - -"Good night, Mr. Betteredge," he said. "And mind, if you ever take -to growing roses, the white moss rose is all the better for not being -budded on the dog-rose, whatever the gardener may say to the contrary!" - -"What are you doing here?" I asked. "Why are you not in your proper bed?" - -"I am not in my proper bed," answered the Sergeant, "because I -am one of the many people in this miserable world who can't -earn their money honestly and easily at the same time. -There was a coincidence, this evening, between the period -of Rosanna Spearman's return from the Sands and the period -when Miss Verinder stated her resolution to leave the house. -Whatever Rosanna may have hidden, it's clear to my mind that your -young lady couldn't go away until she knew that it WAS hidden. -The two must have communicated privately once already to-night. -If they try to communicate again, when the house is quiet, -I want to be in the way, and stop it. Don't blame me -for upsetting your sleeping arrangements, Mr. Betteredge-- -blame the Diamond." - -"I wish to God the Diamond had never found its way into this house!" -I broke out. - -Sergeant Cuff looked with a rueful face at the three chairs -on which he had condemned himself to pass the night. - -"So do I," he said, gravely. - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -Nothing happened in the night; and (I am happy to add) -no attempt at communication between Miss Rachel and Rosanna -rewarded the vigilance of Sergeant Cuff. - -I had expected the Sergeant to set off for Frizinghall the first thing -in the morning. He waited about, however, as if he had something else -to do first. I left him to his own devices; and going into the grounds -shortly after, met Mr. Franklin on his favourite walk by the shrubbery side. - -Before we had exchanged two words, the Sergeant unexpectedly joined us. -He made up to Mr. Franklin, who received him, I must own, haughtily enough. -"Have you anything to say to me?" was all the return he got for politely -wishing Mr. Franklin good morning. - -"I have something to say to you, sir," answered the Sergeant, -"on the subject of the inquiry I am conducting here. -You detected the turn that inquiry was really taking, yesterday. -Naturally enough, in your position, you are shocked and distressed. -Naturally enough, also, you visit your own angry sense of your own -family scandal upon Me." - -"What do you want?" Mr. Franklin broke in, sharply enough. - -"I want to remind you, sir, that I have at any rate, thus far, -not been PROVED to be wrong. Bearing that in mind, be pleased -to remember, at the same time, that I am an officer of the law -acting here under the sanction of the mistress of the house. -Under these circumstances, is it, or is it not, your duty as a -good citizen, to assist me with any special information which you -may happen to possess?" - -"I possess no special information," says Mr. Franklin. - -Sergeant Cuff put that answer by him, as if no answer had been made. - -"You may save my time, sir, from being wasted on an inquiry at a distance," -he went on, "if you choose to understand me and speak out." - -"I don't understand you," answered Mr. Franklin; "and I have nothing to say." - -"One of the female servants (I won't mention names) spoke to you privately, -sir, last night." - -Once more Mr. Franklin cut him short; once more Mr. Franklin answered, -"I have nothing to say." - -Standing by in silence, I thought of the movement in the swing-door on -the previous evening, and of the coat-tails which I had seen disappearing -down the passage. Sergeant Cuff had, no doubt, just heard enough, -before I interrupted him, to make him suspect that Rosanna had relieved -her mind by confessing something to Mr. Franklin Blake. - -This notion had barely struck me--when who should appear at the end -of the shrubbery walk but Rosanna Spearman in her own proper person! -She was followed by Penelope, who was evidently trying to make her -retrace her steps to the house. Seeing that Mr. Franklin was not alone, -Rosanna came to a standstill, evidently in great perplexity what to do next. -Penelope waited behind her. Mr. Franklin saw the girls as soon as I -saw them. The Sergeant, with his devilish cunning, took on not to have -noticed them at all. All this happened in an instant. Before either -Mr. Franklin or I could say a word, Sergeant Cuff struck in smoothly, -with an appearance of continuing the previous conversation. - -"You needn't be afraid of harming the girl, sir," he said to Mr. Franklin, -speaking in a loud voice, so that Rosanna might hear him. "On the contrary, -I recommend you to honour me with your confidence, if you feel any interest in -Rosanna Spearman." - -Mr. Franklin instantly took on not to have noticed the girls either. -He answered, speaking loudly on his side: - -"I take no interest whatever in Rosanna Spearman." - -I looked towards the end of the walk. All I saw at the distance was -that Rosanna suddenly turned round, the moment Mr. Franklin had spoken. -Instead of resisting Penelope, as she had done the moment before, -she now let my daughter take her by the arm and lead her back to -the house. - -The breakfast-bell rang as the two girls disappeared--and even -Sergeant Cuff was now obliged to give it up as a bad job! -He said to me quietly, "I shall go to Frizinghall, Mr. Betteredge; -and I shall be back before two." He went his way without -a word more--and for some few hours we were well rid of him. - -"You must make it right with Rosanna," Mr. Franklin said to me, when we -were alone. "I seem to be fated to say or do something awkward, before that -unlucky girl. You must have seen yourself that Sergeant Cuff laid a trap -for both of us. If he could confuse ME, or irritate HER into breaking out, -either she or I might have said something which would answer his purpose. -On the spur of the moment, I saw no better way out of it than the way I took. -It stopped the girl from saying anything, and it showed the Sergeant that I -saw through him. He was evidently listening, Betteredge, when I was speaking -to you last night." - -He had done worse than listen, as I privately thought to myself. -He had remembered my telling him that the girl was in love with -Mr. Franklin; and he had calculated on THAT, when he appealed to -Mr. Franklin's interest in Rosanna--in Rosanna's hearing. - -"As to listening, sir," I remarked (keeping the other point -to myself), we shall all be rowing in the same boat if this -sort of thing goes on much longer. Prying, and peeping, -and listening are the natural occupations of people situated -as we are. In another day or two, Mr. Franklin, we shall all -be struck dumb together--for this reason, that we shall all be -listening to surprise each other's secrets, and all know it. -Excuse my breaking out, sir. The horrid mystery hanging -over us in this house gets into my head like liquor, -and makes me wild. I won't forget what you have told me. -I'll take the first opportunity of making it right with -Rosanna Spearman." - -"You haven't said anything to her yet about last night, have you?" -Mr. Franklin asked. - -"No, sir." - -"Then say nothing now. I had better not invite the girl's confidence, -with the Sergeant on the look-out to surprise us together. -My conduct is not very consistent, Betteredge--is it? -I see no way out of this business, which isn't dreadful -to think of, unless the Diamond is traced to Rosanna. -And yet I can't, and won't, help Sergeant Cuff to find the -girl out." - -Unreasonable enough, no doubt. But it was my state of mind as well. -I thoroughly understood him. If you will, for once in your life, -remember that you are mortal, perhaps you will thoroughly understand -him too. - - - -The state of things, indoors and out, while Sergeant Cuff was on his way -to Frizinghall, was briefly this: - -Miss Rachel waited for the time when the carriage was to take -her to her aunt's, still obstinately shut up in her own room. -My lady and Mr. Franklin breakfasted together. After breakfast, -Mr. Franklin took one of his sudden resolutions, and went -out precipitately to quiet his mind by a long walk. -I was the only person who saw him go; and he told -me he should be back before the Sergeant returned. -The change in the weather, foreshadowed overnight, had come. -Heavy rain had been followed soon after dawn, by high wind. -It was blowing fresh, as the day got on. But though the clouds -threatened more than once, the rain still held off. -It was not a bad day for a walk, if you were young and strong, -and could breast the great gusts of wind which came sweeping in from -the sea. - -I attended my lady after breakfast, and assisted her in the settlement of our -household accounts. She only once alluded to the matter of the Moonstone, -and that was in the way of forbidding any present mention of it between us. -"Wait till that man comes back," she said, meaning the Sergeant. "We MUST -speak of it then: we are not obliged to speak of it now." - -After leaving my mistress, I found Penelope waiting for me in my room. - -"I wish, father, you would come and speak to Rosanna," she said. -"I am very uneasy about her." - -I suspected what was the matter readily enough. But it is a maxim -of mine that men (being superior creatures) are bound to improve women-- -if they can. When a woman wants me to do anything (my daughter, -or not, it doesn't matter), I always insist on knowing why. -The oftener you make them rummage their own minds for a reason, -the more manageable you will find them in all the relations of life. -It isn't their fault (poor wretches!) that they act first and -think afterwards; it's the fault of the fools who humour them. - -Penelope's reason why, on this occasion, may be given in her own words. -"I am afraid, father," she said, "Mr. Franklin has hurt Rosanna cruelly, -without intending it." - -"What took Rosanna into the shrubbery walk?" I asked. - -"Her own madness," says Penelope; "I can call it nothing else. -She was bent on speaking to Mr. Franklin, this morning, -come what might of it. I did my best to stop her; you saw that. -If I could only have got her away before she heard those -dreadful words----" - -"There! there!" I said, "don't lose your head. I can't call to mind -that anything happened to alarm Rosanna." - -"Nothing to alarm her, father. But Mr. Franklin said he took no interest -whatever in her--and, oh, he said it in such a cruel voice!" - -"He said it to stop the Sergeant's mouth," I answered. - -"I told her that," says Penelope. "But you see, father (though Mr. Franklin -isn't to blame), he's been mortifying and disappointing her for weeks -and weeks past; and now this comes on the top of it all! She has no right, -of course, to expect him to take any interest in her. It's quite -monstrous that she should forget herself and her station in that way. -But she seems to have lost pride, and proper feeling, and everything. -She frightened me, father, when Mr. Franklin said those words. -They seemed to turn her into stone. A sudden quiet came over her, -and she has gone about her work, ever since, like a woman in a dream." - -I began to feel a little uneasy. There was something in -the way Penelope put it which silenced my superior sense. -I called to mind, now my thoughts were directed that way, -what had passed between Mr. Franklin and Rosanna overnight. -She looked cut to the heart on that occasion; and now, -as ill-luck would have it, she had been unavoidably stung again, -poor soul, on the tender place. Sad! sad!--all the more sad -because the girl had no reason to justify her, and no right to -feel it. - -I had promised Mr. Franklin to speak to Rosanna, and this seemed -the fittest time for keeping my word. - -We found the girl sweeping the corridor outside the bedrooms, -pale and composed, and neat as ever in her modest print dress. -I noticed a curious dimness and dullness in her eyes-- -not as if she had been crying but as if she had been looking -at something too long. Possibly, it was a misty something raised -by her own thoughts. There was certainly no object about her -to look at which she had not seen already hundreds on hundreds -of times. - -"Cheer up, Rosanna!" I said. "You mustn't fret over your own fancies. -I have got something to say to you from Mr. Franklin." - -I thereupon put the matter in the right view before her, -in the friendliest and most comforting words I could find. -My principles, in regard to the other sex, are, as you -may have noticed, very severe. But somehow or other, -when I come face to face with the women, my practice (I own) -is not conformable. - -"Mr. Franklin is very kind and considerate. Please to thank him." -That was all the answer she made me. - -My daughter had already noticed that Rosanna went about her work -like a woman in a dream. I now added to this observation, -that she also listened and spoke like a woman in a dream. -I doubted if her mind was in a fit condition to take in what I had -said to her. - -"Are you quite sure, Rosanna, that you understand me?" -I asked. - -"Quite sure." - -She echoed me, not like a living woman, but like a creature -moved by machinery. She went on sweeping all the time. -I took away the broom as gently and as kindly as I could. - -"Come, come, my girl!" I said, "this is not like yourself. -You have got something on your mind. I'm your friend-- -and I'll stand your friend, even if you have done wrong. -Make a clean breast of it, Rosanna--make a clean breast -of it!" - -The time had been, when my speaking to her in that way would -have brought the tears into her eyes. I could see no change -in them now. - -"Yes," she said, "I'll make a clean breast of it." - -"To my lady?" I asked. - -"No." - -"To Mr. Franklin?" - -"Yes; to Mr. Franklin." - -I hardly knew what to say to that. She was in no condition -to understand the caution against speaking to him in private, -which Mr. Franklin had directed me to give her. Feeling my way, -little by little, I only told her Mr. Franklin had gone out for -a walk. - -"It doesn't matter," she answered. "I shan't trouble Mr. Franklin, to-day." - -"Why not speak to my lady?" I said. "The way to relieve your mind -is to speak to the merciful and Christian mistress who has always -been kind to you." - -She looked at me for a moment with a grave and steady attention, -as if she was fixing what I said in her mind. Then she took -the broom out of my hands and moved off with it slowly, -a little way down the corridor. - -"No," she said, going on with her sweeping, and speaking to herself; -"I know a better way of relieving my mind than that." - -"What is it?" - -"Please to let me go on with my work." - -Penelope followed her, and offered to help her. - -She answered, "No. I want to do my work. Thank you, Penelope." -She looked round at me. "Thank you, Mr. Betteredge." - -There was no moving her--there was nothing more to be said. -I signed to Penelope to come away with me. We left her, -as we had found her, sweeping the corridor, like a woman in -a dream. - -"This is a matter for the doctor to look into," I said. -"It's beyond me." - -My daughter reminded me of Mr. Candy's illness, owing (as you may remember) -to the chill he had caught on the night of the dinner-party. His assistant-- -a certain Mr. Ezra Jennings--was at our disposal, to be sure. But nobody -knew much about him in our parts. He had been engaged by Mr. Candy under -rather peculiar circumstances; and, right or wrong, we none of us liked him -or trusted him. There were other doctors at Frizinghall. But they were -strangers to our house; and Penelope doubted, in Rosanna's present state, -whether strangers might not do her more harm than good. - -I thought of speaking to my lady. But, remembering the heavy weight -of anxiety which she already had on her mind, I hesitated to add -to all the other vexations this new trouble. Still, there was a -necessity for doing something. The girl's state was, to my thinking, -downright alarming--and my mistress ought to be informed of it. -Unwilling enough, I went to her sitting-room. No one was there. -My lady was shut up with Miss Rachel. It was impossible for me to see her -till she came out again. - -I waited in vain till the clock on the front staircase struck -the quarter to two. Five minutes afterwards, I heard my name called, -from the drive outside the house. I knew the voice directly. -Sergeant Cuff had returned from Frizinghall. - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Going down to the front door, I met the Sergeant on the steps. - -It went against the grain with me, after what had passed between us, -to show him that I felt any sort of interest in his proceedings. -In spite of myself, however, I felt an interest that there was no resisting. -My sense of dignity sank from under me, and out came the words: "What news -from Frizinghall?" - -"I have seen the Indians," answered Sergeant Cuff. "And I have found -out what Rosanna bought privately in the town, on Thursday last. -The Indians will be set free on Wednesday in next week. -There isn't a doubt on my mind, and there isn't a doubt on -Mr. Murthwaite's mind, that they came to this place to steal -the Moonstone. Their calculations were all thrown out, -of course, by what happened in the house on Wednesday night; -and they have no more to do with the actual loss of the jewel -than you have. But I can tell you one thing, Mr. Betteredge-- -if WE don't find the Moonstone, THEY will. You have not heard the -last of the three jugglers yet." - -Mr. Franklin came back from his walk as the Sergeant said -those startling words. Governing his curiosity better -than I had governed mine, he passed us without a word, -and went on into the house. - -As for me, having already dropped my dignity, I determined to have -the whole benefit of the sacrifice. "So much for the Indians," I said. -"What about Rosanna next?" - -Sergeant Cuff shook his head. - -"The mystery in that quarter is thicker than ever," he said. -"I have traced her to a shop at Frizinghall, kept by a linen -draper named Maltby. She bought nothing whatever at any of -the other drapers' shops, or at any milliners' or tailors' shops; -and she bought nothing at Maltby's but a piece of long cloth. -She was very particular in choosing a certain quality. -As to quantity, she bought enough to make a nightgown." - -"Whose nightgown?" I asked. - -"Her own, to be sure. Between twelve and three, on the Thursday morning, -she must have slipped down to your young lady's room, to settle -the hiding of the Moonstone while all the rest of you were in bed. -In going back to her own room, her nightgown must have brushed the wet -paint on the door. She couldn't wash out the stain; and she couldn't -safely destroy the night-gown without first providing another like it, -to make the inventory of her linen complete." - -"What proves that it was Rosanna's nightgown?" I objected. - -"The material she bought for making the substitute dress," -answered the Sergeant. "If it had been Miss Verinder's nightgown, -she would have had to buy lace, and frilling, and Lord knows -what besides; and she wouldn't have had time to make it in -one night. Plain long cloth means a plain servant's nightgown. -No, no, Mr. Betteredge--all that is clear enough. -The pinch of the question is--why, after having provided -the substitute dress, does she hide the smeared nightgown, -instead of destroying it? If the girl won't speak out, -there is only one way of settling the difficulty. -The hiding-place at the Shivering Sand must be searched-- -and the true state of the case will be discovered there." - -"How are you to find the place?" I inquired. - -"I am sorry to disappoint you," said the Sergeant--"but that's a secret -which I mean to keep to myself." - -(Not to irritate your curiosity, as he irritated mine, I may here inform -you that he had come back from Frizinghall provided with a search-warrant. -His experience in such matters told him that Rosanna was in all probability -carrying about her a memorandum of the hiding-place, to guide her, in case -she returned to it, under changed circumstances and after a lapse of time. -Possessed of this memorandum, the Sergeant would be furnished with all that -he could desire.) - -"Now, Mr. Betteredge," he went on, "suppose we drop speculation, -and get to business. I told Joyce to have an eye on Rosanna. -Where is Joyce?" - -Joyce was the Frizinghall policeman, who had been left -by Superintendent Seegrave at Sergeant Cuff's disposal. -The clock struck two, as he put the question; and, punctual to -the moment, the carriage came round to take Miss Rachel to her -aunt's. - -"One thing at a time," said the Sergeant, stopping me as I was about to send -in search of Joyce. "I must attend to Miss Verinder first." - -As the rain was still threatening, it was the close carriage -that had been appointed to take Miss Rachel to Frizinghall. -Sergeant Cuff beckoned Samuel to come down to him from the -rumble behind. - -"You will see a friend of mine waiting among the trees, on this side -of the lodge gate," he said. "My friend, without stopping the carriage, -will get up into the rumble with you. You have nothing to do but to hold -your tongue, and shut your eyes. Otherwise, you will get into trouble." - -With that advice, he sent the footman back to his place. -What Samuel thought I don't know. It was plain, to my mind, -that Miss Rachel was to be privately kept in view from -the time when she left our house--if she did leave it. -A watch set on my young lady! A spy behind her in the rumble -of her mother's carriage! I could have cut my own tongue -out for having forgotten myself so far as to speak to -Sergeant Cuff. - -The first person to come out of the house was my lady. She stood aside, -on the top step, posting herself there to see what happened. -Not a word did she say, either to the Sergeant or to me. -With her lips closed, and her arms folded in the light garden -cloak which she had wrapped round her on coming into the air, -there she stood, as still as a statue, waiting for her daughter -to appear. - -In a minute more, Miss Rachel came downstairs--very nicely dressed -in some soft yellow stuff, that set off her dark complexion, -and clipped her tight (in the form of a jacket) round the waist. -She had a smart little straw hat on her head, with a white veil -twisted round it. She had primrose-coloured gloves that fitted -her hands like a second skin. Her beautiful black hair looked -as smooth as satin under her hat. Her little ears were like -rosy shells--they had a pearl dangling from each of them. -She came swiftly out to us, as straight as a lily on its stem, -and as lithe and supple in every movement she made as a young cat. -Nothing that I could discover was altered in her pretty face, -but her eyes and her lips. Her eyes were brighter and fiercer -than I liked to see; and her lips had so completely lost -their colour and their smile that I hardly knew them again. -She kissed her mother in a hasty and sudden manner on the cheek. -She said, "Try to forgive me, mamma"--and then pulled down her veil -over her face so vehemently that she tore it. In another moment she -had run down the steps, and had rushed into the carriage as if it was a -hiding-place. - -Sergeant Cuff was just as quick on his side. He put Samuel back, -and stood before Miss Rachel, with the open carriage-door in his hand, -at the instant when she settled herself in her place. - -"What do you want?" says Miss Rachel, from behind her veil. - -"I want to say one word to you, miss," answered the Sergeant, "before you go. -I can't presume to stop your paying a visit to your aunt. I can only venture -to say that your leaving us, as things are now, puts an obstacle in the way -of my recovering your Diamond. Please to understand that; and now decide for -yourself whether you go or stay." - -Miss Rachel never even answered him. "Drive on, James!" she called -out to the coachman. - -Without another word, the Sergeant shut the carriage-door. Just -as he closed it, Mr. Franklin came running down the steps. -"Good-bye, Rachel," he said, holding out his hand. - -"Drive on!" cried Miss Rachel, louder than ever, and taking no more notice -of Mr. Franklin than she had taken of Sergeant Cuff. - -Mr. Franklin stepped back thunderstruck, as well he might be. -The coachman, not knowing what to do, looked towards my lady, -still standing immovable on the top step. My lady, with anger -and sorrow and shame all struggling together in her face, -made him a sign to start the horses, and then turned back hastily -into the house. Mr. Franklin, recovering the use of his speech, -called after her, as the carriage drove off, "Aunt! you were -quite right. Accept my thanks for all your kindness--and let -me go." - -My lady turned as though to speak to him. Then, as if distrusting herself, -waved her hand kindly. "Let me see you, before you leave us, Franklin," -she said, in a broken voice--and went on to her own room. - -"Do me a last favour, Betteredge," says Mr. Franklin, turning to me, -with the tears in his eyes. "Get me away to the train as soon -as you can!" - -He too went his way into the house. For the moment, Miss Rachel -had completely unmanned him. Judge from that, how fond he must -have been of her! - -Sergeant Cuff and I were left face to face, at the bottom of the steps. -The Sergeant stood with his face set towards a gap in the trees, -commanding a view of one of the windings of the drive which led -from the house. He had his hands in his pockets, and he was softly -whistling "The Last Rose of Summer" to himself. - -"There's a time for everything," I said savagely enough. -"This isn't a time for whistling." - -At that moment, the carriage appeared in the distance, through the gap, -on its way to the lodge-gate. There was another man, besides Samuel, -plainly visible in the rumble behind. - -"All right!" said the Sergeant to himself. He turned round to me. -"It's no time for whistling, Mr. Betteredge, as you say. -It's time to take this business in hand, now, without sparing anybody. -We'll begin with Rosanna Spearman. Where is Joyce?" - -We both called for Joyce, and received no answer. I sent one -of the stable-boys to look for him. - -"You heard what I said to Miss Verinder?" remarked the Sergeant, -while we were waiting. "And you saw how she received it? -I tell her plainly that her leaving us will be an obstacle -in the way of my recovering her Diamond--and she leaves, -in the face of that statement! Your young lady has got -a travelling companion in her mother's carriage, Mr. Betteredge-- -and the name of it is, the Moonstone." - -I said nothing. I only held on like death to my belief in Miss Rachel. - -The stable-boy came back, followed--very unwillingly, as it appeared to me-- -by Joyce. - -"Where is Rosanna Spearman?" asked Sergeant Cuff. - -"I can't account for it, sir," Joyce began; "and I am very sorry. -But somehow or other----" - -"Before I went to Frizinghall," said the Sergeant, cutting him short, -"I told you to keep your eyes on Rosanna Spearman, without allowing her -to discover that she was being watched. Do you mean to tell me that you -have let her give you the slip?" - -"I am afraid, sir," says Joyce, beginning to tremble, "that I -was perhaps a little TOO careful not to let her discover me. -There are such a many passages in the lower parts of this house----" - -"How long is it since you missed her?" - -"Nigh on an hour since, sir." - -"You can go back to your regular business at Frizinghall," said the Sergeant, -speaking just as composedly as ever, in his usual quiet and dreary way. -"I don't think your talents are at all in our line, Mr. Joyce. Your present -form of employment is a trifle beyond you. Good morning." - -The man slunk off. I find it very difficult to describe how I -was affected by the discovery that Rosanna Spearman was missing. -I seemed to be in fifty different minds about it, all at the same time. -In that state, I stood staring at Sergeant Cuff--and my powers -of language quite failed me. - -"No, Mr. Betteredge," said the Sergeant, as if he had discovered -the uppermost thought in me, and was picking it out to be answered, -before all the rest. "Your young friend, Rosanna, won't slip through my -fingers so easy as you think. As long as I know where Miss Verinder is, -I have the means at my disposal of tracing Miss Verinder's accomplice. -I prevented them from communicating last night. Very good. They will get -together at Frizinghall, instead of getting together here. The present -inquiry must be simply shifted (rather sooner than I had anticipated) -from this house, to the house at which Miss Verinder is visiting. -In the meantime, I'm afraid I must trouble you to call the servants -together again." - -I went round with him to the servants' hall. It is very disgraceful, -but it is not the less true, that I had another attack of the detective-fever, -when he said those last words. I forgot that I hated Sergeant Cuff. -I seized him confidentially by the arm. I said, "For goodness' sake, tell us -what you are going to do with the servants now?" - -The great Cuff stood stock still, and addressed himself in a kind -of melancholy rapture to the empty air. - -"If this man," said the Sergeant (apparently meaning me), "only -understood the growing of roses he would be the most completely -perfect character on the face of creation!" After that strong -expression of feeling, he sighed, and put his arm through mine. -"This is how it stands," he said, dropping down again to business. -"Rosanna has done one of two things. She has either gone direct -to Frizinghall (before I can get there), or she has gone first to visit -her hiding-place at the Shivering Sand. The first thing to find -out is, which of the servants saw the last of her before she left -the house." - -On instituting this inquiry, it turned out that the last person who had set -eyes on Rosanna was Nancy, the kitchenmaid. - -Nancy had seen her slip out with a letter in her hand, and stop the butcher's -man who had just been delivering some meat at the back door. Nancy had -heard her ask the man to post the letter when he got back to Frizinghall. -The man had looked at the address, and had said it was a roundabout way -of delivering a letter directed to Cobb's Hole, to post it at Frizinghall-- -and that, moreover, on a Saturday, which would prevent the letter from -getting to its destination until Monday morning, Rosanna had answered that -the delivery of the letter being delayed till Monday was of no importance. -The only thing she wished to be sure of was that the man would do what she -told him. The man had promised to do it, and had driven away. Nancy had been -called back to her work in the kitchen. And no other person had seen anything -afterwards of Rosanna Spearman. - -"Well?" I asked, when we were alone again. - -"Well," says the Sergeant. "I must go to Frizinghall." - -"About the letter, sir?" - -"Yes. The memorandum of the hiding-place is in that letter. -I must see the address at the post-office. If it is the address -I suspect, I shall pay our friend, Mrs. Yolland, another visit on -Monday next." - -I went with the Sergeant to order the pony-chaise. In the stable-yard -we got a new light thrown on the missing girl. - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -The news of Rosanna's disappearance had, as it appeared, -spread among the out-of-door servants. They too had made -their inquiries; and they had just laid hands on a quick -little imp, nicknamed "Duffy"--who was occasionally employed -in weeding the garden, and who had seen Rosanna Spearman as -lately as half-an-hour since. Duffy was certain that the girl -had passed him in the fir-plantation, not walking, but RUNNING, -in the direction of the sea-shore. - -"Does this boy know the coast hereabouts?" asked Sergeant Cuff. - -"He has been born and bred on the coast," I answered. - -"Duffy!" says the Sergeant, "do you want to earn a shilling? -If you do, come along with me. Keep the pony-chaise ready, -Mr. Betteredge, till I come back." - -He started for the Shivering Sand, at a rate that my legs -(though well enough preserved for my time of life) had no hope -of matching. Little Duffy, as the way is with the young savages -in our parts when they are in high spirits, gave a howl, -and trotted off at the Sergeant's heels. - -Here again, I find it impossible to give anything like a clear account -of the state of my mind in the interval after Sergeant Cuff had left us. -A curious and stupefying restlessness got possession of me. I did a dozen -different needless things in and out of the house, not one of which I can -now remember. I don't even know how long it was after the Sergeant had -gone to the sands, when Duffy came running back with a message for me. -Sergeant Cuff had given the boy a leaf torn out of his pocket-book, on -which was written in pencil, "Send me one of Rosanna Spearman's boots, -and be quick about it." - -I despatched the first woman-servant I could find to Rosanna's room; -and I sent the boy back to say that I myself would follow him with -the boot. - -This, I am well aware, was not the quickest way to take -of obeying the directions which I had received. But I was -resolved to see for myself what new mystification was going -on before I trusted Rosanna's boot in the Sergeant's hands. -My old notion of screening the girl, if I could, -seemed to have come back on me again, at the eleventh hour. -This state of feeling (to say nothing of the detective-fever) -hurried me off, as soon as I had got the boot, at the nearest -approach to a run which a man turned seventy can reasonably hope -to make. - -As I got near the shore, the clouds gathered black, and the rain came down, -drifting in great white sheets of water before the wind. I heard the thunder -of the sea on the sand-bank at the mouth of the bay. A little further on, -I passed the boy crouching for shelter under the lee of the sand hills. -Then I saw the raging sea, and the rollers tumbling in on the sand-bank, and -the driven rain sweeping over the waters like a flying garment, and the yellow -wilderness of the beach with one solitary black figure standing on it-- -the figure of Sergeant Cuff. - -He waved his hand towards the north, when he first saw me. -"Keep on that side!" he shouted. "And come on down here -to me!" - -I went down to him, choking for breath, with my heart leaping -as if it was like to leap out of me. I was past speaking. -I had a hundred questions to put to him; and not one -of them would pass my lips. His face frightened me. -I saw a look in his eyes which was a look of horror. -He snatched the boot out of my hand, and set it in a footmark -on the sand, bearing south from us as we stood, and pointing -straight towards the rocky ledge called the South Spit. -The mark was not yet blurred out by the rain--and the girl's -boot fitted it to a hair. - -The Sergeant pointed to the boot in the footmark, without saying a word. - -I caught at his arm, and tried to speak to him, and failed as I -had failed when I tried before. He went on, following the -footsteps down and down to where the rocks and the sand joined. -The South Spit was just awash with the flowing tide; -the waters heaved over the hidden face of the Shivering Sand. -Now this way and now that, with an obstinate patience that was -dreadful to see, Sergeant Cuff tried the boot in the footsteps, -and always found it pointing the same way--straight TO the rocks. -Hunt as he might, no sign could he find anywhere of the footsteps -walking FROM them. - -He gave it up at last. Still keeping silence, he looked -again at me; and then he looked out at the waters before us, -heaving in deeper and deeper over the quicksand. -I looked where he looked--and I saw his thought in his face. -A dreadful dumb trembling crawled all over me on a sudden. -I fell upon my knees on the beach. - -"She has been back at the hiding-place," I heard the Sergeant say to himself. -"Some fatal accident has happened to her on those rocks." - -The girl's altered looks, and words, and actions--the numbed, deadened way -in which she listened to me, and spoke to me--when I had found her sweeping -the corridor but a few hours since, rose up in my mind, and warned me, -even as the Sergeant spoke, that his guess was wide of the dreadful truth. -I tried to tell him of the fear that had frozen me up. I tried to say, -"The death she has died, Sergeant, was a death of her own seeking." -No! the words wouldn't come. The dumb trembling held me in its grip. -I couldn't feel the driving rain. I couldn't see the rising tide. -As in the vision of a dream, the poor lost creature came back before me. -I saw her again as I had seen her in the past time--on the morning -when I went to fetch her into the house. I heard her again, telling me -that the Shivering Sand seemed to draw her to it against her will, -and wondering whether her grave was waiting for her THERE. The horror -of it struck at me, in some unfathomable way, through my own child. -My girl was just her age. My girl, tried as Rosanna was tried, -might have lived that miserable life, and died this dreadful -death. - -The Sergeant kindly lifted me up, and turned me away from the sight -of the place where she had perished. - -With that relief, I began to fetch my breath again, and to see things -about me, as things really were. Looking towards the sand-hills, I saw -the men-servants from out-of-doors, and the fisherman, named Yolland, -all running down to us together; and all, having taken the alarm, -calling out to know if the girl had been found. In the fewest words, -the Sergeant showed them the evidence of the footmarks, and told them -that a fatal accident must have happened to her. He then picked out -the fisherman from the rest, and put a question to him, turning about again -towards the sea: "Tell me," he said. "Could a boat have taken her off, -in such weather as this, from those rocks where her footmarks stop?" - -The fisherman pointed to the rollers tumbling in on the sand-bank, -and to the great waves leaping up in clouds of foam against the headlands -on either side of us. - -"No boat that ever was built," he answered, "could have got -to her through THAT." - -Sergeant Cuff looked for the last time at the foot-marks on the sand, -which the rain was now fast blurring out. - -"There," he said, "is the evidence that she can't have left this -place by land. And here," he went on, looking at the fisherman, -"is the evidence that she can't have got away by sea." He stopped, -and considered for a minute. "She was seen running towards this place, -half an hour before I got here from the house," he said to Yolland. -"Some time has passed since then. Call it, altogether, an hour ago. -How high would the water be, at that time, on this side of the rocks?" -He pointed to the south side--otherwise, the side which was not filled up -by the quicksand. - -"As the tide makes to-day," said the fisherman, "there wouldn't -have been water enough to drown a kitten on that side of the Spit, -an hour since." - -Sergeant Cuff turned about northward, towards the quicksand. - -"How much on this side?" he asked. - -"Less still," answered Yolland. "The Shivering Sand would have been -just awash, and no more." - -The Sergeant turned to me, and said that the accident must have happened on -the side of the quicksand. My tongue was loosened at that. "No accident!" -I told him. "When she came to this place, she came weary of her life, to end -it here." - -He started back from me. "How do you know? " he asked. -The rest of them crowded round. The Sergeant recovered -himself instantly. He put them back from me; he said I was -an old man; he said the discovery had shaken me; he said, -"Let him alone a little." Then he turned to Yolland, and asked, -"Is there any chance of finding her, when the tide ebbs again?" -And Yolland answered, "None. What the Sand gets, the Sand keeps -for ever." Having said that, the fisherman came a step nearer, -and addressed himself to me. - -"Mr. Betteredge," he said, "I have a word to say to you about the young -woman's death. Four foot out, broadwise, along the side of the Spit, -there's a shelf of rock, about half fathom down under the sand. -My question is--why didn't she strike that? If she slipped, -by accident, from off the Spit, she fell in where there's foothold -at the bottom, at a depth that would barely cover her to the waist. -She must have waded out, or jumped out, into the Deeps beyond-- -or she wouldn't be missing now. No accident, sir! The Deeps -of the Quicksand have got her. And they have got her by her -own act." - -After that testimony from a man whose knowledge was to be relied on, -the Sergeant was silent. The rest of us, like him, held our peace. -With one accord, we all turned back up the slope of the beach. - -At the sand-hillocks we were met by the under-groom, running to us from -the house. The lad is a good lad, and has an honest respect for me. -He handed me a little note, with a decent sorrow in his face. -"Penelope sent me with this, Mr. Betteredge," he said. "She found it in -Rosanna's room." - -It was her last farewell word to the old man who had done his best-- -thank God, always done his best--to befriend her. - -"You have often forgiven me, Mr. Betteredge, in past times. -When you next see the Shivering Sand, try to forgive me once more. -I have found my grave where my grave was waiting for me. -I have lived, and died, sir, grateful for your kindness." - -There was no more than that. Little as it was, I hadn't manhood enough -to hold up against it. Your tears come easy, when you're young, -and beginning the world. Your tears come easy, when you're old, -and leaving it. I burst out crying. - -Sergeant Cuff took a step nearer to me--meaning kindly, I don't doubt. -I shrank back from him. "Don't touch me," I said. "It's the dread of you, -that has driven her to it." - -"You are wrong, Mr. Betteredge," he answered, quietly. "But there -will be time enough to speak of it when we are indoors again." - -I followed the rest of them, with the help of the groom's arm. -Through the driving rain we went back--to meet the trouble and -the terror that were waiting for us at the house. - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -Those in front had spread the news before us. We found the servants -in a state of panic. As we passed my lady's door, it was thrown -open violently from the inner side. My mistress came out among us -(with Mr. Franklin following, and trying vainly to compose her), quite -beside herself with the horror of the thing. - -"You are answerable for this!" she cried out, threatening the Sergeant -wildly with her hand. "Gabriel! give that wretch his money--and release -me from the sight of him!" - -The Sergeant was the only one among us who was fit to cope with her-- -being the only one among us who was in possession of himself. - -"I am no more answerable for this distressing calamity, my lady, -than you are," he said. "If, in half an hour from this, -you still insist on my leaving the house, I will accept your -ladyship's dismissal, but not your ladyship's money." - -It was spoken very respectfully, but very firmly at the same time-- -and it had its effect on my mistress as well as on me. -She suffered Mr. Franklin to lead her back into the room. -As the door closed on the two, the Sergeant, looking about among -the women-servants in his observant way, noticed that while -all the rest were merely frightened, Penelope was in tears. -"When your father has changed his wet clothes," he said to her, -"come and speak to us, in your father's room." - -Before the half-hour was out, I had got my dry clothes on, -and had lent Sergeant Cuff such change of dress as he required. -Penelope came in to us to hear what the Sergeant wanted with her. -I don't think I ever felt what a good dutiful daughter I had, -so strongly as I felt it at that moment. I took her and sat -her on my knee and I prayed God bless her. She hid her head -on my bosom, and put her arms round my neck--and we waited -a little while in silence. The poor dead girl must have been -at the bottom of it, I think, with my daughter and with me. -The Sergeant went to the window, and stood there looking out. -I thought it right to thank him for considering us both in this way-- -and I did. - -People in high life have all the luxuries to themselves-- -among others, the luxury of indulging their feelings. -People in low life have no such privilege. Necessity, which spares -our betters, has no pity on us. We learn to put our feelings -back into ourselves, and to jog on with our duties as patiently -as may be. I don't complain of this--I only notice it. -Penelope and I were ready for the Sergeant, as soon as the -Sergeant was ready on his side. Asked if she knew what had led -her fellow-servant to destroy herself, my daughter answered -(as you will foresee) that it was for love of Mr. Franklin Blake. -Asked next, if she had mentioned this notion of hers to any -other person, Penelope answered, "I have not mentioned it, -for Rosanna's sake." I felt it necessary to add a word to this. -I said, "And for Mr. Franklin's sake, my dear, as well. -If Rosanna HAS died for love of him, it is not with his knowledge -or by his fault. Let him leave the house to-day, if he does -leave it, without the useless pain of knowing the truth." -Sergeant Cuff said, "Quite right," and fell silent again; -comparing Penelope's notion (as it seemed to me) -with some other notion of his own which he kept -to himself. - -At the end of the half-hour, my mistress's bell rang. - -On my way to answer it, I met Mr. Franklin coming out of his -aunt's sitting-room. He mentioned that her ladyship was ready -to see Sergeant Cuff--in my presence as before--and he added -that he himself wanted to say two words to the Sergeant first. -On our way back to my room, he stopped, and looked at the railway -time-table in the hall. - -"Are you really going to leave us, sir? " I asked. "Miss Rachel -will surely come right again, if you only give her time?" - -"She will come right again," answered Mr. Franklin, "when she hears that I -have gone away, and that she will see me no more." - -I thought he spoke in resentment of my young lady's treatment of him. -But it was not so. My mistress had noticed, from the time when the police -first came into the house, that the bare mention of him was enough to set -Miss Rachel's temper in a flame. He had been too fond of his cousin -to like to confess this to himself, until the truth had been forced -on him, when she drove off to her aunt's. His eyes once opened in that -cruel way which you know of, Mr. Franklin had taken his resolution-- -the one resolution which a man of any spirit COULD take--to leave -the house. - -What he had to say to the Sergeant was spoken in my presence. -He described her ladyship as willing to acknowledge that she had -spoken over-hastily. And he asked if Sergeant Cuff would consent-- -in that case--to accept his fee, and to leave the matter of the Diamond -where the matter stood now. The Sergeant answered, "No, sir. -My fee is paid me for doing my duty. I decline to take it, until my duty -is done." - -"I don't understand you," says Mr. Franklin. - -"I'll explain myself, sir," says the Sergeant. "When I came here, -I undertook to throw the necessary light on the matter of the -missing Diamond. I am now ready, and waiting to redeem my pledge. -When I have stated the case to Lady Verinder as the case now stands, -and when I have told her plainly what course of action to take for the -recovery of the Moonstone, the responsibility will be off my shoulders. -Let her ladyship decide, after that, whether she does, or does not, -allow me to go on. I shall then have done what I undertook to do-- -and I'll take my fee." - -In those words Sergeant Cuff reminded us that, even in the Detective Police, -a man may have a reputation to lose. - -The view he took was so plainly the right one, that there -was no more to be said. As I rose to conduct him to my -lady's room, he asked if Mr. Franklin wished to be present. -Mr. Franklin answered, "Not unless Lady Verinder desires it." -He added, in a whisper to me, as I was following the Sergeant out, -"I know what that man is going to say about Rachel; and I am -too fond of her to hear it, and keep my temper. Leave me -by myself." - -I left him, miserable enough, leaning on the sill of my window, -with his face hidden in his hands and Penelope peeping through the door, -longing to comfort him. In Mr. Franklin's place, I should have -called her in. When you are ill-used by one woman, there is great -comfort in telling it to another--because, nine times out of ten, -the other always takes your side. Perhaps, when my back was turned, -he did call her in? In that case it is only doing my daughter justice -to declare that she would stick at nothing, in the way of comforting -Mr. Franklin Blake. - -In the meantime, Sergeant Cuff and I proceeded to my lady's room. - -At the last conference we had held with her, we had found her -not over willing to lift her eyes from the book which she had on -the table. On this occasion there was a change for the better. -She met the Sergeant's eye with an eye that was as steady as his own. -The family spirit showed itself in every line of her face; -and I knew that Sergeant Cuff would meet his match, when a woman -like my mistress was strung up to hear the worst he could say -to her. - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -The first words, when we had taken our seats, were spoken by my lady. - -"Sergeant Cuff," she said, "there was perhaps some excuse -for the inconsiderate manner in which I spoke to you half -an hour since. I have no wish, however, to claim that excuse. -I say, with perfect sincerity, that I regret it, if I -wronged you." - -The grace of voice and manner with which she made him that atonement had its -due effect on the Sergeant. He requested permission to justify himself-- -putting his justification as an act of respect to my mistress. -It was impossible, he said, that he could be in any way responsible -for the calamity, which had shocked us all, for this sufficient reason, -that his success in bringing his inquiry to its proper end depended on -his neither saying nor doing anything that could alarm Rosanna Spearman. -He appealed to me to testify whether he had, or had not, carried that -object out. I could, and did, bear witness that he had. And there, -as I thought, the matter might have been judiciously left to come to -an end. - -Sergeant Cuff, however, took it a step further, evidently (as you shall -now judge) with the purpose of forcing the most painful of all possible -explanations to take place between her ladyship and himself. - -"I have heard a motive assigned for the young woman's suicide," -said the Sergeant, "which may possibly be the right one. It is a -motive quite unconnected with the case which I am conducting here. -I am bound to add, however, that my own opinion points the other way. -Some unbearable anxiety in connexion with the missing Diamond, -has, I believe, driven the poor creature to her own destruction. -I don't pretend to know what that unbearable anxiety may have been. -But I think (with your ladyship's permission) I can lay my hand -on a person who is capable of deciding whether I am right -or wrong." - -"Is the person now in the house?" my mistress asked, after waiting a little. - -"The person has left the house," my lady. - -That answer pointed as straight to Miss Rachel as straight could be. -A silence dropped on us which I thought would never come to an end. -Lord! how the wind howled, and how the rain drove at the window, as I sat -there waiting for one or other of them to speak again! - -"Be so good as to express yourself plainly," said my lady. -"Do you refer to my daughter?" - -"I do," said Sergeant Cuff, in so many words. - -My mistress had her cheque-book on the table when we entered the room-- -no doubt to pay the Sergeant his fee. She now put it back in the drawer. -It went to my heart to see how her poor hand trembled--the hand that -had loaded her old servant with benefits; the hand that, I pray God, -may take mine, when my time comes, and I leave my place for ever! - -"I had hoped," said my lady, very slowly and quietly, "to have recompensed -your services, and to have parted with you without Miss Verinder's name -having been openly mentioned between us as it has been mentioned now. -My nephew has probably said something of this, before you came into -my room?" - -"Mr. Blake gave his message, my lady. And I gave Mr. Blake a reason----" - -"It is needless to tell me your reason. After what you have just said, -you know as well as I do that you have gone too far to go back. -I owe it to myself, and I owe it to my child, to insist on your -remaining here, and to insist on your speaking out." - -The Sergeant looked at his watch. - -"If there had been time, my lady," he answered, "I should have preferred -writing my report, instead of communicating it by word of mouth. But, if this -inquiry is to go on, time is of too much importance to be wasted in writing. -I am ready to go into the matter at once. It is a very painful matter for me -to speak of, and for you to hear - -There my mistress stopped him once more. - -"I may possibly make it less painful to you, and to my good servant -and friend here," she said, "if I set the example of speaking boldly, -on my side. You suspect Miss Verinder of deceiving us all, by secreting -the Diamond for some purpose of her own? Is that true?" - -"Quite true, my lady." - -"Very well. Now, before you begin, I have to tell you, -as Miss Verinder's mother, that she is ABSOLUTELY -INCAPABLE of doing what you suppose her to have done. -Your knowledge of her character dates from a day or two since. -My knowledge of her character dates from the beginning of her life. -State your suspicion of her as strongly as you please-- -it is impossible that you can offend me by doing so. -I am sure, beforehand, that (with all your experience) -the circumstances have fatally misled you in this case. Mind! I am -in possession of no private information. I am as absolutely -shut out of my daughter's confidence as you are. My one reason -for speaking positively, is the reason you have heard already. -I know my child." - -She turned to me, and gave me her hand. I kissed it in silence. -"You may go on," she said, facing the Sergeant again as steadily -as ever. - -Sergeant Cuff bowed. My mistress had produced but one effect on him. -His hatchet-face softened for a moment, as if he was sorry for her. -As to shaking him in his own conviction, it was plain to see that she -had not moved him by a single inch. He settled himself in his chair; -and he began his vile attack on Miss Rachel's character in these words: - -"I must ask your ladyship," he said, "to look this matter -in the face, from my point of view as well as from yours. -Will you please to suppose yourself coming down here, in my place, -and with my experience? and will you allow me to mention very -briefly what that experience has been?" - -My mistress signed to him that she would do this. The Sergeant went on: - -"For the last twenty years," he said, "I have been largely employed -in cases of family scandal, acting in the capacity of confidential man. -The one result of my domestic practice which has any bearing on -the matter now in hand, is a result which I may state in two words. -It is well within my experience, that young ladies of rank and position -do occasionally have private debts which they dare not acknowledge to their -nearest relatives and friends. Sometimes, the milliner and the jeweller -are at the bottom of it. Sometimes, the money is wanted for purposes which I -don't suspect in this case, and which I won't shock you by mentioning. -Bear in mind what I have said, my lady--and now let us see how events -in this house have forced me back on my own experience, whether I liked it -or not!" - -He considered with himself for a moment, and went on-- -with a horrid clearness that obliged you to understand him; -with an abominable justice that favoured nobody. - -"My first information relating to the loss of the Moonstone," -said the Sergeant, "came to me from Superintendent Seegrave. -He proved to my complete satisfaction that he was perfectly -incapable of managing the case. The one thing he said which -struck me as worth listening to, was this--that Miss Verinder -had declined to be questioned by him, and had spoken to him -with a perfectly incomprehensible rudeness and contempt. -I thought this curious--but I attributed it mainly to some -clumsiness on the Superintendent's part which might have -offended the young lady. After that, I put it by in my mind, -and applied myself, single-handed, to the case. It ended, -as you are aware, in the discovery of the smear on the door, and in -Mr. Franklin Blake's evidence satisfying me, that this same smear, -and the loss of the Diamond, were pieces of the same puzzle. -So far, if I suspected anything, I suspected that the Moonstone -had been stolen, and that one of the servants might prove to be -the thief. Very good. In this state of things, what happens? -Miss Verinder suddenly comes out of her room, and speaks to me. -I observe three suspicious appearances in that young lady. -She is still violently agitated, though more than four-and-twenty -hours have passed since the Diamond was lost. She treats -me as she has already treated Superintendent Seegrave. -And she is mortally offended with Mr. Franklin Blake. -Very good again. Here (I say to myself) is a young lady -who has lost a valuable jewel--a young lady, also, as my own -eyes and ears inform me, who is of an impetuous temperament. -Under these circumstances, and with that character, what does she do? -She betrays an incomprehensible resentment against Mr. Blake, -Mr. Superintendent, and myself--otherwise, the very three people -who have all, in their different ways, been trying to help -her to recover her lost jewel. Having brought my inquiry -to that point--THEN, my lady, and not till then, I begin to look -back into my own mind for my own experience. My own experience -explains Miss Verinder's otherwise incomprehensible conduct. -It associates her with those other young ladies that I know of. -It tells me she has debts she daren't acknowledge, that must be paid. -And it sets me asking myself, whether the loss of the Diamond may -not mean--that the Diamond must be secretly pledged to pay them. -That is the conclusion which my experience draws from -plain facts. What does your ladyship's experience say against -it?" - -"What I have said already," answered my mistress. "The circumstances -have misled you." - -I said nothing on my side. ROBINSON CRUSOE--God knows how-- -had got into my muddled old head. If Sergeant Cuff had -found himself, at that moment, transported to a desert island, -without a man Friday to keep him company, or a ship to take him off-- -he would have found himself exactly where I wished him to be! -(Nota bene:--I am an average good Christian, when you don't -push my Christianity too far. And all the rest of you-- -which is a great comfort--are, in this respect, much the same as -I am.) - -Sergeant Cuff went on: - -"Right or wrong, my lady," he said, "having drawn my conclusion, -the next thing to do was to put it to the test. I suggested to -your ladyship the examination of all the wardrobes in the house. -It was a means of finding the article of dress which had, -in all probability, made the smear; and it was a means -of putting my conclusion to the test. How did it turn out? -Your ladyship consented; Mr. Blake consented; Mr. Ablewhite consented. -Miss Verinder alone stopped the whole proceeding by refusing -point-blank. That result satisfied me that my view was the right one. -If your ladyship and Mr. Betteredge persist in not agreeing with me, -you must be blind to what happened before you this very day. -In your hearing, I told the young lady that her leaving the house -(as things were then) would put an obstacle in the way of my recovering -her jewel. You saw yourselves that she drove off in the face -of that statement. You saw yourself that, so far from forgiving -Mr. Blake for having done more than all the rest of you to put -the clue into my hands, she publicly insulted Mr. Blake, on the steps -of her mother's house. What do these things mean? If Miss Verinder -is not privy to the suppression of the Diamond, what do these -things mean?" - -This time he looked my way. It was downright frightful -to hear him piling up proof after proof against Miss Rachel, -and to know, while one was longing to defend her, that there -was no disputing the truth of what he said. I am (thank God!) -constitutionally superior to reason. This enabled me -to hold firm to my lady's view, which was my view also. -This roused my spirit, and made me put a bold face on it before -Sergeant Cuff. Profit, good friends, I beseech you, by my example. -It will save you from many troubles of the vexing sort. -Cultivate a superiority to reason, and see how you pare the claws -of all the sensible people when they try to scratch you for your -own good! - -Finding that I made no remark, and that my mistress made no remark, -Sergeant Cuff proceeded. Lord! how it did enrage me to notice -that he was not in the least put out by our silence! - -"There is the case, my lady, as it stands against Miss -Verinder alone," he said. "The next thing is to put the case as it -stands against Miss Verinder and the deceased Rosanna Spearman -taken together. We will go back for a moment, if you please, -to your daughter's refusal to let her wardrobe be examined. -My mind being made up, after that circumstance, I had two questions -to consider next. First, as to the right method of conducting -my inquiry. Second, as to whether Miss Verinder had an accomplice -among the female servants in the house. After carefully -thinking it over, I determined to conduct the inquiry in, -what we should call at our office, a highly irregular manner. -For this reason: I had a family scandal to deal with, -which it was my business to keep within the family limits. -The less noise made, and the fewer strangers employed to help me, -the better. As to the usual course of taking people in custody -on suspicion, going before the magistrate, and all the rest of it-- -nothing of the sort was to be thought of, when your ladyship's -daughter was (as I believed) at the bottom of the whole business. -In this case, I felt that a person of Mr. Betteredge's character -and position in the house--knowing the servants as he did, -and having the honour of the family at heart--would be safer -to take as an assistant than any other person whom I could -lay my hand on. I should have tried Mr. Blake as well-- -but for one obstacle in the way. HE saw the drift of my proceedings -at a very early date; and, with his interest in Miss Verinder, -any mutual understanding was impossible between him and me. -I trouble your ladyship with these particulars to show you -that I have kept the family secret within the family circle. -I am the only outsider who knows it--and my professional existence -depends on holding my tongue." - -Here I felt that my professional existence depended on not holding -my tongue. To be held up before my mistress, in my old age, -as a sort of deputy-policeman, was, once again, more than my -Christianity was strong enough to bear. - -"I beg to inform your ladyship," I said, "that I never, to my knowledge, -helped this abominable detective business, in any way, from first to last; -and I summon Sergeant Cuff to contradict me, if he dares!" - -Having given vent in those words, I felt greatly relieved. -Her ladyship honoured me by a little friendly pat on the shoulder. -I looked with righteous indignation at the Sergeant, -to see what he thought of such a testimony as THAT. -The Sergeant looked back like a lamb, and seemed to like me better -than ever. - -My lady informed him that he might continue his statement. -"I understand," she said, "that you have honestly done your best, -in what you believe to be my interest. I am ready to hear what you -have to say next." - -"What I have to say next," answered Sergeant Cuff, "relates to -Rosanna Spearman. I recognised the young woman, as your ladyship -may remember, when she brought the washing-book into this room. -Up to that time I was inclined to doubt whether Miss Verinder had -trusted her secret to any one. When I saw Rosanna, I altered my mind. -I suspected her at once of being privy to the suppression of the Diamond. -The poor creature has met her death by a dreadful end, and I don't -want your ladyship to think, now she's gone, that I was unduly -hard on her. If this had been a common case of thieving, I should -have given Rosanna the benefit of the doubt just as freely as I -should have given it to any of the other servants in the house. -Our experience of the Reformatory woman is, that when tried -in service--and when kindly and judiciously treated--they prove -themselves in the majority of cases to be honestly penitent, -and honestly worthy of the pains taken with them. But this was not -a common case of thieving. It was a case--in my mind--of a deeply -planned fraud, with the owner of the Diamond at the bottom of it. -Holding this view, the first consideration which naturally -presented itself to me, in connection with Rosanna, was this: -Would Miss Verinder be satisfied (begging your ladyship's pardon) -with leading us all to think that the Moonstone was merely lost? -Or would she go a step further, and delude us into believing -that the Moonstone was stolen? In the latter event there was -Rosanna Spearman--with the character of a thief--ready to her hand; -the person of all others to lead your ladyship off, and to lead me off, -on a false scent." - -Was it possible (I asked myself) that he could put his case against -Miss Rachel and Rosanna in a more horrid point of view than this? -It WAS possible, as you shall now see. - -"I had another reason for suspecting the deceased woman," -he said, "which appears to me to have been stronger still. -Who would be the very person to help Miss Verinder in -raising money privately on the Diamond? Rosanna Spearman. -No young lady in Miss Verinder's position could manage -such a risky matter as that by herself. A go-between she -must have, and who so fit, I ask again, as Rosanna Spearman? -Your ladyship's deceased housemaid was at the top of her -profession when she was a thief. She had relations, -to my certain knowledge, with one of the few men in London -(in the money-lending line) who would advance a large sum on such -a notable jewel as the Moonstone, without asking awkward questions, -or insisting on awkward conditions. Bear this in mind, my lady; -and now let me show you how my suspicions have been justified -by Rosanna's own acts, and by the plain inferences to be drawn -from them." - -He thereupon passed the whole of Rosanna's proceedings under review. -You are already as well acquainted with those proceedings as I am; -and you will understand how unanswerably this part of his report fixed -the guilt of being concerned in the disappearance of the Moonstone -on the memory of the poor dead girl. Even my mistress was daunted -by what he said now. She made him no answer when he had done. -It didn't seem to matter to the Sergeant whether he was answered or not. -On he went (devil take him!), just as steady as ever. - -"Having stated the whole case as I understand it," he said, -"I have only to tell your ladyship, now, what I propose to do next. -I see two ways of bringing this inquiry successfully to an end. -One of those ways I look upon as a certainty. The other, I admit, -is a bold experiment, and nothing more. Your ladyship shall decide. -Shall we take the certainty first?" - -My mistress made him a sign to take his own way, and choose for himself. - -"Thank you," said the Sergeant. "We'll begin with the certainty, -as your ladyship is so good as to leave it to me. Whether Miss Verinder -remains at Frizinghall, or whether she returns here, I propose, -in either case, to keep a careful watch on all her proceedings-- -on the people she sees, on the rides and walks she may take, and on -the letters she may write and receive." - -"What next?" asked my mistress. - -"I shall next," answered the Sergeant, "request your ladyship's leave -to introduce into the house, as a servant in the place of Rosanna Spearman, -a woman accustomed to private inquiries of this sort, for whose discretion -I can answer." - -"What next? " repeated my mistress. - -"Next," proceeded the Sergeant, "and last, I propose to send one of my -brother-officers to make an arrangement with that money-lender in London, -whom I mentioned just now as formerly acquainted with Rosanna Spearman-- -and whose name and address, your ladyship may rely on it, have been -communicated by Rosanna to Miss Verinder. I don't deny that the course -of action I am now suggesting will cost money, and consume time. -But the result is certain. We run a line round the Moonstone, and we draw -that line closer and closer till we find it in Miss Verinder's possession, -supposing she decides to keep it. If her debts press, and she decides on -sending it away, then we have our man ready, and we meet the Moonstone on its -arrival in London." - -To hear her own daughter made the subject of such a proposal as this, -stung my mistress into speaking angrily for the first time. - -"Consider your proposal declined, in every particular," she said. -"And go on to your other way of bringing the inquiry to an end." - -"My other way," said the Sergeant, going on as easy as ever, -"is to try that bold experiment to which I have alluded. I think I -have formed a pretty correct estimate of Miss Verinder's temperament. -She is quite capable (according to my belief) of committing -a daring fraud. But she is too hot and impetuous in temper, -and too little accustomed to deceit as a habit, to act the hypocrite -in small things, and to restrain herself under all provocations. -Her feelings, in this case, have repeatedly got beyond her control, -at the very time when it was plainly her interest to conceal them. -It is on this peculiarity in her character that I now propose to act. -I want to give her a great shock suddenly, under circumstances -that will touch her to the quick. In plain English, I want to tell -Miss Verinder, without a word of warning, of Rosanna's death-- -on the chance that her own better feelings will hurry her -into making a clean breast of it. Does your ladyship accept -that alternative?" - -My mistress astonished me beyond all power of expression. -She answered him on the instant: - -"Yes; I do." - -"The pony-chaise is ready," said the Sergeant. "I wish your ladyship -good morning." - -My lady held up her hand, and stopped him at the door. - -"My daughter's better feelings shall be appealed to, as you propose," -she said. "But I claim the right, as her mother, of putting -her to the test myself. You will remain here, if you please; -and I will go to Frizinghall." - -For once in his life, the great Cuff stood speechless with amazement, -like an ordinary man. - -My mistress rang the bell, and ordered her water-proof things. -It was still pouring with rain; and the close carriage had gone, -as you know, with Miss Rachel to Frizinghall. I tried to dissuade -her ladyship from facing the severity of the weather. Quite useless! -I asked leave to go with her, and hold the umbrella. She wouldn't -hear of it. The pony-chaise came round, with the groom in charge. -"You may rely on two things," she said to Sergeant Cuff, in the hall. -"I will try the experiment on Miss Verinder as boldly as you -could try it yourself. And I will inform you of the result, -either personally or by letter, before the last train leaves for London -to-night." - -With that, she stepped into the chaise, and, taking the reins herself, -drove off to Frizinghall. - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -My mistress having left us, I had leisure to think of Sergeant Cuff. -I found him sitting in a snug corner of the hall, consulting his -memorandum book, and curling up viciously at the corners of the lips. - -"Making notes of the case? " I asked. - -"No," said the Sergeant. "Looking to see what my next professional -engagement is." - -"Oh!" I said. "You think it's all over then, here?" - -"I think," answered Sergeant Cuff, "that Lady Verinder is one -of the cleverest women in England. I also think a rose much -better worth looking at than a diamond. Where is the gardener, -Mr. Betteredge?" - -There was no getting a word more out of him on the matter of the Moonstone. -He had lost all interest in his own inquiry; and he would persist in looking -for the gardener. An hour afterwards, I heard them at high words in -the conservatory, with the dog-rose once more at the bottom of the dispute. - - - -In the meantime, it was my business to find out whether Mr. Franklin -persisted in his resolution to leave us by the afternoon train. -After having been informed of the conference in my lady's room, -and of how it had ended, he immediately decided on waiting to hear -the news from Frizinghall. This very natural alteration in his plans-- -which, with ordinary people, would have led to nothing in particular-- -proved, in Mr. Franklin's case, to have one objectionable result. -It left him unsettled, with a legacy of idle time on his hands, and, -in so doing, it let out all the foreign sides of his character, -one on the top of another, like rats out of a bag. - -Now as an Italian-Englishman, now as a German-Englishman, and now -as a French-Englishman, he drifted in and out of all the sitting-rooms -in the house, with nothing to talk of but Miss Rachel's treatment of him; -and with nobody to address himself to but me. I found him (for example) -in the library, sitting under the map of Modern Italy, and quite -unaware of any other method of meeting his troubles, except the method -of talking about them. "I have several worthy aspirations, Betteredge; -but what am I to do with them now? I am full of dormant good qualities, -if Rachel would only have helped me to bring them out!" He was so eloquent -in drawing the picture of his own neglected merits, and so pathetic -in lamenting over it when it was done, that I felt quite at my wits' -end how to console him, when it suddenly occurred to me that here was -a case for the wholesome application of a bit of ROBINSON CRUSOE. -I hobbled out to my own room, and hobbled back with that immortal book. -Nobody in the library! The map of Modern Italy stared at ME; and I stared -at the map of Modern Italy. - -I tried the drawing-room. There was his handkerchief on the floor, -to prove that he had drifted in. And there was the empty room -to prove that he had drifted out again. - -I tried the dining-room, and discovered Samuel with a biscuit -and a glass of sherry, silently investigating the empty air. -A minute since, Mr. Franklin had rung furiously for a little -light refreshment. On its production, in a violent hurry, -by Samuel, Mr. Franklin had vanished before the bell -downstairs had quite done ringing with the pull he had given -to it. - -I tried the morning-room, and found him at last. There he was at the window, -drawing hieroglyphics with his finger in the damp on the glass. - -"Your sherry is waiting for you, sir," I said to him. -I might as well have addressed myself to one of the four -walls of the room; he was down in the bottomless deep of his -own meditations, past all pulling up. "How do YOU explain -Rachel's conduct, Betteredge?" was the only answer I received. -Not being ready with the needful reply, I produced ROBINSON CRUSOE, -in which I am firmly persuaded some explanation might have -been found, if we had only searched long enough for it. -Mr. Franklin shut up ROBINSON CRUSOE, and floundered into his -German-English gibberish on the spot. "Why not look into it?" -he said, as if I had personally objected to looking into it. -"Why the devil lose your patience, Betteredge, when patience is -all that's wanted to arrive at the truth? Don't interrupt me. -Rachel's conduct is perfectly intelligible, if you will only -do her the common justice to take the Objective view first. -and the Subjective view next, and the Objective-Subjective -view to wind up with. What do we know? We know that the loss -of the Moonstone, on Thursday morning last, threw her into a state -of nervous excitement, from which she has not recovered yet. -Do you mean to deny the Objective view, so far? Very well, then-- -don't interrupt me. Now, being in a state of nervous excitement, -how are we to expect that she should behave as she might -otherwise have behaved to any of the people about her? -Arguing in this way, from within-outwards, what do we reach? -We reach the Subjective view. I defy you to controvert -the Subjective view. Very well then--what follows? -Good Heavens! the Objective-Subjective explanation follows, -of course! Rachel, properly speaking, is not Rachel, -but Somebody Else. Do I mind being cruelly treated by Somebody Else? -You are unreasonable enough, Betteredge; but you can -hardly accuse me of that. Then how does it end? It ends, -in spite of your confounded English narrowness and prejudice, -in my being perfectly happy and comfortable. Where's the -sherry?" - -My head was by this time in such a condition, that I was not quite sure -whether it was my own head, or Mr. Franklin's. In this deplorable state, -I contrived to do, what I take to have been, three Objective things. -I got Mr. Franklin his sherry; I retired to my own room; and I solaced -myself with the most composing pipe of tobacco I ever remember to have -smoked in my life. - -Don't suppose, however, that I was quit of Mr. Franklin on such -easy terms as these. Drifting again, out of the morning-room -into the hall, he found his way to the offices next, smelt my pipe, -and was instantly reminded that he had been simple enough to give -up smoking for Miss Rachel's sake. In the twinkling of an eye, -he burst in on me with his cigar-case, and came out strong on the one -everlasting subject, in his neat, witty, unbelieving, French way. -"Give me a light, Betteredge. Is it conceivable that a man can have -smoked as long as I have without discovering that there is a complete -system for the treatment of women at the bottom of his cigar-case? Follow -me carefully, and I will prove it in two words. You choose a cigar, -you try it, and it disappoints you. What do you do upon that? -You throw it away and try another. Now observe the application! -You choose a woman, you try her, and she breaks your heart. -Fool! take a lesson from your cigar-case. Throw her away, -and try another!" - -I shook my head at that. Wonderfully clever, I dare say, but my own -experience was dead against it. "In the time of the late Mrs. Betteredge," -I said, "I felt pretty often inclined to try your philosophy, Mr. Franklin. -But the law insists on your smoking your cigar, sir, when you -have once chosen it." I pointed that observation with a wink. -Mr. Franklin burst out laughing--and we were as merry as crickets, -until the next new side of his character turned up in due course. -So things went on with my young master and me; and so (while the Sergeant -and the gardener were wrangling over the roses) we two spent the interval -before the news came back from Frizinghall. - -The pony-chaise returned a good half hour before I had ventured to expect it. -My lady had decided to remain for the present, at her sister's house. -The groom brought two letters from his mistress; one addressed to -Mr. Franklin, and the other to me. - -Mr. Franklin's letter I sent to him in the library--into which refuge -his driftings had now taken him for the second time. My own letter, -I read in my own room. A cheque, which dropped out when I opened it, -informed me (before I had mastered the contents) that Sergeant Cuff's -dismissal from the inquiry after the Moonstone was now a settled thing. - -I sent to the conservatory to say that I wished to speak -to the Sergeant directly. He appeared, with his mind full -of the gardener and the dog-rose, declaring that the equal -of Mr. Begbie for obstinacy never had existed yet, and never -would exist again. I requested him to dismiss such wretched -trifling as this from our conversation, and to give his best -attention to a really serious matter. Upon that he exerted -himself sufficiently to notice the letter in my hand. -"Ah!" he said in a weary way, "you have heard from her ladyship. -Have I anything to do with it, Mr. Betteredge?" - -"You shall judge for yourself, Sergeant." I thereupon read him the letter -(with my best emphasis and discretion), in the following words: - - - -"MY GOOD GABRIEL,--I request that you will inform Sergeant Cuff, -that I have performed the promise I made to him; with this result, -so far as Rosanna Spearman is concerned. Miss Verinder solemnly -declares, that she has never spoken a word in private to Rosanna, -since that unhappy woman first entered my house. They never met, -even accidentally, on the night when the Diamond was lost; -and no communication of any sort whatever took place between them, -from the Thursday morning when the alarm was first raised in the house, -to this present Saturday afternoon, when Miss Verinder left us. -After telling my daughter suddenly, and in so many words, of Rosanna -Spearman's suicide--this is what has come of it." - - - -Having reached that point, I looked up, and asked Sergeant Cuff -what he thought of the letter, so far? - -"I should only offend you if I expressed MY opinion," answered the Sergeant. -"Go on, Mr. Betteredge," he said, with the most exasperating resignation, -"go on." - -When I remembered that this man had had the audacity to complain -of our gardener's obstinacy, my tongue itched to "go on" in other words -than my mistress's. This time, however, my Christianity held firm. -I proceeded steadily with her ladyship's letter: - - - -"Having appealed to Miss Verinder in the manner which the officer -thought most desirable, I spoke to her next in the manner which I -myself thought most likely to impress her. On two different occasions, -before my daughter left my roof, I privately warned her that she -was exposing herself to suspicion of the most unendurable and most -degrading kind. I have now told her, in the plainest terms, -that my apprehensions have been realised. - -"Her answer to this, on her own solemn affirmation, is as plain -as words can be. In the first place, she owes no money privately -to any living creature. In the second place, the Diamond is not now, -and never has been, in her possession, since she put it into her -cabinet on Wednesday night. - -"The confidence which my daughter has placed in me goes no -further than this. She maintains an obstinate silence, when I -ask her if she can explain the disappearance of the Diamond. -She refuses, with tears, when I appeal to her to speak out -for my sake. "The day will come when you will know why I am -careless about being suspected, and why I am silent even to you. -I have done much to make my mother pity me--nothing to make -my mother blush for me." Those are my daughter's own words. - -"After what has passed between the officer and me, I think-- -stranger as he is--that he should be made acquainted with what -Miss Verinder has said, as well as you. Read my letter to him, -and then place in his hands the cheque which I enclose. -In resigning all further claim on his services, I have only -to say that I am convinced of his honesty and his intelligence; -but I am more firmly persuaded than ever, that the circumstances, -in this case, have fatally misled him." - - - -There the letter ended. Before presenting the cheque, I asked Sergeant -Cuff if he had any remark to make. - -"It's no part of my duty, Mr. Betteredge," he answered, -"to make remarks on a case, when I have done with it." - -I tossed the cheque across the table to him. "Do you believe in THAT -part of her ladyship's letter?" I said, indignantly. - -The Sergeant looked at the cheque, and lifted up his dismal -eyebrows in acknowledgment of her ladyship's liberality. - -"This is such a generous estimate of the value of my time," -he said, "that I feel bound to make some return for it. -I'll bear in mind the amount in this cheque, Mr. Betteredge, -when the occasion comes round for remembering it." - -"What do you mean? " I asked. - -"Her ladyship has smoothed matters over for the present very cleverly," -said the Sergeant. "But THIS family scandal is of the sort that bursts up -again when you least expect it. We shall have more detective-business on -our hands, sir, before the Moonstone is many months older." - -If those words meant anything, and if the manner in which he spoke them -meant anything--it came to this. My mistress's letter had proved, -to his mind, that Miss Rachel was hardened enough to resist -the strongest appeal that could be addressed to her, and that she -had deceived her own mother (good God, under what circumstances!) -by a series of abominable lies. How other people, in my place, -might have replied to the Sergeant, I don't know. I answered what -he said in these plain terms: - -"Sergeant Cuff, I consider your last observation as an insult -to my lady and her daughter!" - -"Mr. Betteredge, consider it as a warning to yourself, and you -will be nearer the mark." - -Hot and angry as I was, the infernal confidence with which he gave me -that answer closed my lips. - -I walked to the window to compose myself. The rain had given over; -and, who should I see in the court-yard, but Mr. Begbie, the gardener, -waiting outside to continue the dog-rose controversy with Sergeant Cuff. - -"My compliments to the Sairgent," said Mr. Begbie, the moment -he set eyes on me. "If he's minded to walk to the station, -I'm agreeable to go with him." - -"What!" cries the Sergeant, behind me, "are you not convinced yet?" - -"The de'il a bit I'm convinced!" answered Mr. Begbie. - -"Then I'll walk to the station!" says the Sergeant. - -"Then I'll meet you at the gate!" says Mr. Begbie. - -I was angry enough, as you know--but how was any man's anger -to hold out against such an interruption as this? Sergeant Cuff -noticed the change in me, and encouraged it by a word in season. -"Come! come!" he said, "why not treat my view of the case as her -ladyship treats it? Why not say, the circumstances have fatally -misled me?" - -To take anything as her ladyship took it was a privilege worth enjoying-- -even with the disadvantage of its having been offered to me by Sergeant Cuff. -I cooled slowly down to my customary level. I regarded any other opinion -of Miss Rachel, than my lady's opinion or mine, with a lofty contempt. -The only thing I could not do, was to keep off the subject of the Moonstone! -My own good sense ought to have warned me, I know, to let the matter rest-- -but, there! the virtues which distinguish the present generation were not -invented in my time. Sergeant Cuff had hit me on the raw, and, though I -did look down upon him with contempt, the tender place still tingled for -all that. The end of it was that I perversely led him back to the subject -of her ladyship's letter. "I am quite satisfied myself," I said. "But never -mind that! Go on, as if I was still open to conviction. You think Miss -Rachel is not to be believed on her word; and you say we shall hear of the -Moonstone again. Back your opinion, Sergeant," I concluded, in an airy way. -"Back your opinion." - -Instead of taking offence, Sergeant Cuff seized my hand, -and shook it till my fingers ached again. - -"I declare to heaven," says this strange officer solemnly, -"I would take to domestic service to-morrow, Mr. Betteredge, -if I had a chance of being employed along with You! -To say you are as transparent as a child, sir, is to pay -the children a compliment which nine out of ten of them -don't deserve. There! there! we won't begin to dispute again. -You shall have it out of me on easier terms than that. -I won't say a word more about her ladyship, or about Miss Verinder-- -I'll only turn prophet, for once in a way, and for your sake. -I have warned you already that you haven't done with the -Moonstone yet. Very well. Now I'll tell you, at parting, -of three things which will happen in the future, and which, I believe, -will force themselves on your attention, whether you like it -or not." - -"Go on!" I said, quite unabashed, and just as airy as ever. - -"First," said the Sergeant, "you will hear something from the Yollands-- -when the postman delivers Rosanna's letter at Cobb's Hole, on Monday next." - -If he had thrown a bucket of cold water over me, I doubt if I could -have felt it much more unpleasantly than I felt those words. -Miss Rachel's assertion of her innocence had left Rosanna's conduct-- -the making the new nightgown, the hiding the smeared nightgown, -and all the rest of it--entirely without explanation. And this had -never occurred to me, till Sergeant Cuff forced it on my mind all in -a moment! - -"In the second place," proceeded the Sergeant, "you will hear of -the three Indians again. You will hear of them in the neighbourhood, -if Miss Rachel remains in the neighbourhood. You will hear of them -in London, if Miss Rachel goes to London." - -Having lost all interest in the three jugglers, and having -thoroughly convinced myself of my young lady's innocence, -I took this second prophecy easily enough. "So much for two -of the three things that are going to happen," I said. -"Now for the third!" - -"Third, and last," said Sergeant Cuff, "you will, sooner or later, -hear something of that money-lender in London, whom I have twice -taken the liberty of mentioning already. Give me your pocket-book, -and I'll make a note for you of his name and address--so that there -may be no mistake about it if the thing really happens." - -He wrote accordingly on a blank leaf--"Mr. Septimus Luker, -Middlesex-place, Lambeth, London." - -"There," he said, pointing to the address, "are the last words, -on the subject of the Moonstone, which I shall trouble you with -for the present. Time will show whether I am right or wrong. -In the meanwhile, sir, I carry away with me a sincere personal -liking for you, which I think does honour to both of us. -If we don't meet again before my professional retirement takes place, -I hope you will come and see me in a little house near London, -which I have got my eye on. There will be grass walks, -Mr. Betteredge, I promise you, in my garden. And as for the white -moss rose----" - -"The de'il a bit ye'll get the white moss rose to grow, -unless you bud him on the dogue-rose first," cried a voice -at the window. - -We both turned round. There was the everlasting Mr. Begbie, -too eager for the controversy to wait any longer at the gate. -The Sergeant wrung my hand, and darted out into the court-yard, -hotter still on his side. "Ask him about the moss rose, -when he comes back, and see if I have left him a leg to stand on!" -cried the great Cuff, hailing me through the window in his turn. -"Gentlemen, both!" I answered, moderating them again as I had -moderated them once already. - -In the matter of the moss rose there is a great deal to be -said on both sides!" I might as well (as the Irish say) -have whistled jigs to a milestone. Away they went together, -fighting the battle of the roses without asking or giving -quarter on either side. The last I saw of them, Mr. Begbie -was shaking his obstinate head, and Sergeant Cuff had got -him by the arm like a prisoner in charge. Ah, well! well! -I own I couldn't help liking the Sergeant--though I hated him all -the time. - -Explain that state of mind, if you can. You will soon be rid, now, of me -and my contradictions. When I have reported Mr. Franklin's departure, -the history of the Saturday's events will be finished at last. -And when I have next described certain strange things that happened -in the course of the new week, I shall have done my part of the Story, -and shall hand over the pen to the person who is appointed to follow -my lead. If you are as tired of reading this narrative as I am of -writing it--Lord, how we shall enjoy ourselves on both sides a few pages -further on! - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -I had kept the pony chaise ready, in case Mr. Franklin persisted -in leaving us by the train that night. The appearance of the luggage, -followed downstairs by Mr. Franklin himself, informed me plainly -enough that he had held firm to a resolution for once in his life. - -"So you have really made up your mind, sir?" I said, as we met in the hall. -"Why not wait a day or two longer, and give Miss Rachel another chance?" - -The foreign varnish appeared to have all worn off Mr. Franklin, -now that the time had come for saying good-bye. Instead of replying -to me in words, he put the letter which her ladyship had addressed -to him into my hand. The greater part of it said over again what -had been said already in the other communication received by me. -But there was a bit about Miss Rachel added at the end, which will -account for the steadiness of Mr. Franklin's determination, if it -accounts for nothing else. - - - -"You will wonder, I dare say" (her ladyship wrote), "at my -allowing my own daughter to keep me perfectly in the dark. -A Diamond worth twenty thousand pounds has been lost--and I am -left to infer that the mystery of its disappearance is no mystery -to Rachel, and that some incomprehensible obligation of silence -has been laid on her, by some person or persons utterly unknown -to me, with some object in view at which I cannot even guess. -Is it conceivable that I should allow myself to be trifled with in -this way? It is quite conceivable, in Rachel's present state. -She is in a condition of nervous agitation pitiable to see. -I dare not approach the subject of the Moonstone again until -time has done something to quiet her. To help this end, -I have not hesitated to dismiss the police-officer. The -mystery which baffles us, baffles him too. This is not a -matter in which any stranger can help us. He adds to what I -have to suffer; and he maddens Rachel if she only hears -his name. - -"My plans for the future are as well settled as they can be. -My present idea is to take Rachel to London--partly to relieve her mind -by a complete change, partly to try what may be done by consulting -the best medical advice. Can I ask you to meet us in town? -My dear Franklin, you, in your way, must imitate my patience, -and wait, as I do, for a fitter time. The valuable assistance -which you rendered to the inquiry after the lost jewel is still an -unpardoned offence, in the present dreadful state of Rachel's mind. -Moving blindfold in this matter, you have added to the burden -of anxiety which she has had to bear, by innocently threatening -her secret with discovery, through your exertions. It is impossible -for me to excuse the perversity that holds you responsible for -consequences which neither you nor I could imagine or foresee. -She is not to be reasoned with--she can only be pitied. -I am grieved to have to say it, but for the present, you and Rachel -are better apart. The only advice I can offer you is, to give -her time." - - - -I handed the letter back, sincerely sorry for Mr. Franklin, -for I knew how fond he was of my young lady; and I saw -that her mother's account of her had cut him to the heart. -"You know the proverb, sir," was all I said to him. -"When things are at the worst, they're sure to mend. -Things can't be much worse, Mr. Franklin, than they -are now." - -Mr. Franklin folded up his aunt's letter, without appearing to be much -comforted by the remark which I had ventured on addressing to him. - -"When I came here from London with that horrible Diamond," -he said, "I don't believe there was a happier household in England -than this. Look at the household now! Scattered, disunited-- -the very air of the place poisoned with mystery and suspicion! -Do you remember that morning at the Shivering Sand, when we -talked about my uncle Herncastle, and his birthday gift? -The Moonstone has served the Colonel's vengeance, Betteredge, by means -which the Colonel himself never dreamt of!" - -With that he shook me by the hand, and went out to the pony chaise. - -I followed him down the steps. It was very miserable to see him leaving -the old place, where he had spent the happiest years of his life, -in this way. Penelope (sadly upset by all that had happened in the house) -came round crying, to bid him good-bye. Mr. Franklin kissed her. -I waved my hand as much as to say, "You're heartily welcome, sir." Some of -the other female servants appeared, peeping after him round the corner. -He was one of those men whom the women all like. At the last moment, -I stopped the pony chaise, and begged as a favour that he would let -us hear from him by letter. He didn't seem to heed what I said-- -he was looking round from one thing to another, taking a sort of farewell -of the old house and grounds. "Tell us where you are going to, sir!" -I said, holding on by the chaise, and trying to get at his future plans -in that way. Mr. Franklin pulled his hat down suddenly over his eyes. -"Going?" says he, echoing the word after me. "I am going to the devil!" -The pony started at the word, as if he had felt a Christian horror of it. -"God bless you, sir, go where you may!" was all I had time to say, -before he was out of sight and hearing. A sweet and pleasant gentleman! -With all his faults and follies, a sweet and pleasant gentleman! He left a -sad gap behind him, when he left my lady's house. - -It was dull and dreary enough, when the long summer evening closed in, -on that Saturday night. - -I kept my spirits from sinking by sticking fast to my pipe -and my ROBINSON CRUSOE. The women (excepting Penelope) -beguiled the time by talking of Rosanna's suicide. They were all -obstinately of opinion that the poor girl had stolen the Moonstone, -and that she had destroyed herself in terror of being found out. -My daughter, of course, privately held fast to what she had -said all along. Her notion of the motive which was really -at the bottom of the suicide failed, oddly enough, just where -my young lady's assertion of her innocence failed also. -It left Rosanna's secret journey to Frizinghall, and Rosanna's -proceedings in the matter of the nightgown entirely unaccounted for. -There was no use in pointing this out to Penelope; the objection -made about as much impression on her as a shower of rain -on a waterproof coat. The truth is, my daughter inherits my -superiority to reason--and, in respect to that accomplishment, -has got a long way ahead of her own father. - -On the next day (Sunday), the close carriage, which had been kept -at Mr. Ablewhite's, came back to us empty. The coachman brought -a message for me, and written instructions for my lady's own maid -and for Penelope. - -The message informed me that my mistress had determined to take -Miss Rachel to her house in London, on the Monday. The written -instructions informed the two maids of the clothing that was wanted, -and directed them to meet their mistresses in town at a given hour. -Most of the other servants were to follow. My lady had found Miss Rachel -so unwilling to return to the house, after what had happened in it, -that she had decided on going to London direct from Frizinghall. -I was to remain in the country, until further orders, to look after -things indoors and out. The servants left with me were to be put on -board wages. - -Being reminded, by all this, of what Mr. Franklin had said -about our being a scattered and disunited household, my mind -was led naturally to Mr. Franklin himself. The more I thought -of him, the more uneasy I felt about his future proceedings. -It ended in my writing, by the Sunday's post, to his father's valet, -Mr. Jeffco (whom I had known in former years) to beg he would -let me know what Mr. Franklin had settled to do, on arriving -in London. - -The Sunday evening was, if possible, duller even than the Saturday evening. -We ended the day of rest, as hundreds of thousands of people end it regularly, -once a week, in these islands--that is to say, we all anticipated bedtime, -and fell asleep in our chairs. - - - -How the Monday affected the rest of the household I don't know. -The Monday gave ME a good shake up. The first of Sergeant Cuff's -prophecies of what was to happen--namely, that I should hear from -the Yollands--came true on that day. - -I had seen Penelope and my lady's maid off in the railway with the luggage -for London, and was pottering about the grounds, when I heard my name called. -Turning round, I found myself face to face with the fisherman's daughter, -Limping Lucy. Bating her lame foot and her leanness (this last a horrid -draw-back to a woman, in my opinion), the girl had some pleasing qualities -in the eye of a man. A dark, keen, clever face, and a nice clear voice, and a -beautiful brown head of hair counted among her merits. A crutch appeared -in the list of her misfortunes. And a temper reckoned high in the sum total -of her defects. - -"Well, my dear," I said, "what do you want with me?" - -"Where's the man you call Franklin Blake?" says the girl, -fixing me with a fierce look, as she rested herself on her crutch. - -"That's not a respectful way to speak of any gentleman," -I answered. "If you wish to inquire for my lady's nephew, -you will please to mention him as MR. Franklin Blake." - -She limped a step nearer to me, and looked as if she could have -eaten me alive. "MR. Franklin Blake?" she repeated after me. -"Murderer Franklin Blake would be a fitter name for him." - -My practice with the late Mrs. Betteredge came in handy here. -Whenever a woman tries to put you out of temper, turn the tables, -and put HER out of temper instead. They are generally prepared -for every effort you can make in your own defence, but that. -One word does it as well as a hundred; and one word did it -with Limping Lucy. I looked her pleasantly in the face; -and I said--"Pooh!" - -The girl's temper flamed out directly. She poised herself on her sound foot, -and she took her crutch, and beat it furiously three times on the ground. -"He's a murderer! he's a murderer! he's a murderer! He has been the death -of Rosanna Spearman!" She screamed that answer out at the top of her voice. -One or two of the people at work in the grounds near us looked up-- -saw it was Limping Lucy--knew what to expect from that quarter--and looked -away again. - -"He has been the death of Rosanna Spearman?" I repeated. -"What makes you say that, Lucy?" - -"What do you care? What does any man care? Oh! if she had only thought -of the men as I think, she might have been living now!" - -"She always thought kindly of ME, poor soul," I said; -"and, to the best of my ability, I always tried to act kindly -by HER." - -I spoke those words in as comforting a manner as I could. The truth is, -I hadn't the heart to irritate the girl by another of my smart replies. -I had only noticed her temper at first. I noticed her wretchedness now-- -and wretchedness is not uncommonly insolent, you will find, in humble life. -My answer melted Limping Lucy. She bent her head down, and laid it on the top -of her crutch. - -"I loved her," the girl said softly. "She had lived a miserable life, -Mr. Betteredge--vile people had ill-treated her and led her wrong-- -and it hadn't spoiled her sweet temper. She was an angel. -She might have been happy with me. I had a plan for our going -to London together like sisters, and living by our needles. -That man came here, and spoilt it all. He bewitched her. -Don't tell me he didn't mean it, and didn't know it. -He ought to have known it. He ought to have taken pity on her. -'I can't live without him--and, oh, Lucy, he never even looks -at me.' That's what she said. Cruel, cruel, cruel. I said, -'No man is worth fretting for in that way.' And she said, -'There are men worth dying for, Lucy, and he is one of them.' -I had saved up a little money. I had settled things with father -and mother. I meant to take her away from the mortification -she was suffering here. We should have had a little lodging -in London, and lived together like sisters. She had a -good education, sir, as you know, and she wrote a good hand. -She was quick at her needle. I have a good education, and I -write a good hand. I am not as quick at my needle as she was-- -but I could have done. We might have got our living nicely. -And, oh! what happens this morning? what happens this morning? -Her letter comes and tells me that she has done with the burden -of her life. Her letter comes, and bids me good-bye for ever. -Where is he?" cries the girl, lifting her head from -the crutch, and flaming out again through her tears. -"Where's this gentleman that I mustn't speak of, -except with respect? Ha, Mr. Betteredge, the day is not far -off when the poor will rise against the rich. I pray Heaven -they may begin with HIM. I pray Heaven they may begin with -HIM." - -Here was another of your average good Christians, and here was the usual -break-down, consequent on that same average Christianity being pushed -too far! The parson himself (though I own this is saying a great deal) -could hardly have lectured the girl in the state she was in now. -All I ventured to do was to keep her to the point--in the hope of something -turning up which might be worth hearing. - -"What do you want with Mr. Franklin Blake?" I asked. - -"I want to see him." - -"For anything particular?" - -"I have got a letter to give him." - -"From Rosanna Spearman?" - -"Yes." - -"Sent to you in your own letter?" - -"Yes." - -Was the darkness going to lift? Were all the discoveries that I was dying -to make, coming and offering themselves to me of their own accord? -I was obliged to wait a moment. Sergeant Cuff had left his infection -behind him. Certain signs and tokens, personal to myself, warned me that -the detective-fever was beginning to set in again. - -"You can't see Mr. Franklin," I said. - -"I must, and will, see him." - -"He went to London last night." - -Limping Lucy looked me hard in the face, and saw that I was speaking -the truth. Without a word more, she turned about again instantly towards -Cobb's Hole. - -"Stop!" I said. "I expect news of Mr. Franklin Blake to-morrow. -Give me your letter, and I'll send it on to him by the post." - -Limping Lucy steadied herself on her crutch and looked back at me -over her shoulder. - -"I am to give it from my hands into his hands," she said. -"And I am to give it to him in no other way." - -"Shall I write, and tell him what you have said?" - -"Tell him I hate him. And you will tell him the truth." - -"Yes, yes. But about the letter?" - -"If he wants the letter, he must come back here, and get it from Me." - -With those words she limped off on the way to Cobb's Hole. -The detective-fever burnt up all my dignity on the spot. -I followed her, and tried to make her talk. All in vain. -It was my misfortune to be a man--and Limping Lucy enjoyed -disappointing me. Later in the day, I tried my luck with her mother. -Good Mrs. Yolland could only cry, and recommend a drop of comfort -out of the Dutch bottle. I found the fisherman on the beach. -He said it was "a bad job," and went on mending his net. -Neither father nor mother knew more than I knew. The one way left -to try was the chance, which might come with the morning, of writing -to Mr. Franklin Blake. - -I leave you to imagine how I watched for the postman on Tuesday morning. -He brought me two letters. One, from Penelope (which I had hardly patience -enough to read), announced that my lady and Miss Rachel were safely -established in London. The other, from Mr. Jeffco, informed me that his -master's son had left England already. - -On reaching the metropolis, Mr. Franklin had, it appeared, -gone straight to his father's residence. He arrived at an awkward time. -Mr. Blake, the elder, was up to his eyes in the business of the House -of Commons, and was amusing himself at home that night with the -favourite parliamentary plaything which they call "a private bill." -Mr. Jeffco himself showed Mr. Franklin into his father's study. -"My dear Franklin! why do you surprise me in this way? Anything wrong?" -"Yes; something wrong with Rachel; I am dreadfully distressed -about it." "Grieved to hear it. But I can't listen to you now." -"When can you listen?" "My dear boy! I won't deceive you. -I can listen at the end of the session, not a moment before. -Good-night." "Thank you, sir. Good-night." - -Such was the conversation, inside the study, as reported to me by -Mr. Jeffco. The conversation outside the study, was shorter still. -"Jeffco, see what time the tidal train starts to-morrow morning." -"At six-forty, Mr. Franklin." "Have me called at five." -"Going abroad, sir?" "Going, Jeffco, wherever the railway chooses -to take me." "Shall I tell your father, sir?" "Yes; tell him at the end -of the session." - -The next morning Mr. Franklin had started for foreign parts. -To what particular place he was bound, nobody (himself included) -could presume to guess. We might hear of him next in Europe, -Asia, Africa, or America. The chances were as equally divided -as possible, in Mr. Jeffco's opinion, among the four quarters of -the globe. - -This news--by closing up all prospects of my bringing -Limping Lucy and Mr. Franklin together--at once stopped -any further progress of mine on the way to discovery. -Penelope's belief that her fellow-servant had destroyed herself -through unrequited love for Mr. Franklin Blake, was confirmed-- -and that was all. Whether the letter which Rosanna had left -to be given to him after her death did, or did not, contain the -confession which Mr. Franklin had suspected her of trying -to make to him in her life-time, it was impossible to say. -It might be only a farewell word, telling nothing but the -secret of her unhappy fancy for a person beyond her reach. -Or it might own the whole truth about the strange proceedings -in which Sergeant Cuff had detected her, from the time when -the Moonstone was lost, to the time when she rushed to her own -destruction at the Shivering Sand. A sealed letter it had been -placed in Limping Lucy's hand, and a sealed letter it remained -to me and to every one about the girl, her own parents included. -We all suspected her of having been in the dead woman's confidence; -we all tried to make her speak; we all failed. Now one, -and now another, of the servants--still holding to the belief -that Rosanna had stolen the Diamond and had hidden it-- -peered and poked about the rocks to which she had been traced, -and peered and poked in vain. The tide ebbed, and the tide flowed; -the summer went on, and the autumn came. And the Quicksand, -which hid her body, hid her secret too. - -The news of Mr. Franklin's departure from England on the Sunday morning, -and the news of my lady's arrival in London with Miss Rachel on the -Monday afternoon, had reached me, as you are aware, by the Tuesday's post. -The Wednesday came, and brought nothing. The Thursday produced a second -budget of news from Penelope. - -My girl's letter informed me that some great London doctor -had been consulted about her young lady, and had earned -a guinea by remarking that she had better be amused. -Flower-shows, operas, balls--there was a whole round of gaieties -in prospect; and Miss Rachel, to her mother's astonishment, -eagerly took to it all. Mr. Godfrey had called; evidently as sweet -as ever on his cousin, in spite of the reception he had met with, -when he tried his luck on the occasion of the birthday. -To Penelope's great regret, he had been most graciously received, -and had added Miss Rachel's name to one of his Ladies' -Charities on the spot. My mistress was reported to be out -of spirits, and to have held two long interviews with her lawyer. -Certain speculations followed, referring to a poor relation -of the family--one Miss Clack, whom I have mentioned in my -account of the birthday dinner, as sitting next to Mr. Godfrey, -and having a pretty taste in champagne. Penelope was -astonished to find that Miss Clack had not called yet. -She would surely not be long before she fastened herself on my -lady as usual--and so forth, and so forth, in the way women -have of girding at each other, on and off paper. This would -not have been worth mentioning, I admit, but for one reason. -I hear you are likely to be turned over to Miss Clack, -after parting with me. In that case, just do me the favour -of not believing a word she says, if she speaks of your -humble servant. - - - -On Friday, nothing happened--except that one of the dogs showed signs -of a breaking out behind the ears. I gave him a dose of syrup of buckthorn, -and put him on a diet of pot-liquor and vegetables till further orders. -Excuse my mentioning this. It has slipped in somehow. Pass it over please. -I am fast coming to the end of my offences against your cultivated -modern taste. Besides, the dog was a good creature, and deserved a -good physicking; he did indeed. - -Saturday, the last day of the week, is also the last day in my narrative. - -The morning's post brought me a surprise in the shape of a London newspaper. -The handwriting on the direction puzzled me. I compared it with the -money-lender's name and address as recorded in my pocket-pook, and identified -it at once as the writing of Sergeant Cuff. - -Looking through the paper eagerly enough, after this discovery, -I found an ink-mark drawn round one of the police reports. -Here it is, at your service. Read it as I read it, and you -will set the right value on the Sergeant's polite attention -in sending me the news of the day: - - - -"LAMBETH--Shortly before the closing of the court, Mr. Septimus Luker, -the well-known dealer in ancient gems, carvings, intagli, &c., &c., -applied to the sitting magistrate for advice. The applicant stated -that he had been annoyed, at intervals throughout the day, by the -proceedings of some of those strolling Indians who infest the streets. -The persons complained of were three in number. After having been sent -away by the police, they had returned again and again, and had attempted -to enter the house on pretence of asking for charity. Warned off in -the front, they had been discovered again at the back of the premises. -Besides the annoyance complained of, Mr. Luker expressed himself -as being under some apprehension that robbery might be contemplated. -His collection contained many unique gems, both classical and Oriental, -of the highest value. He had only the day before been compelled -to dismiss a skilled workman in ivory carving from his employment -(a native of India, as we understood), on suspicion of attempted theft; -and he felt by no means sure that this man and the street jugglers -of whom he complained, might not be acting in concert. It might be -their object to collect a crowd, and create a disturbance in the street, -and, in the confusion thus caused, to obtain access to the house. -In reply to the magistrate, Mr. Luker admitted that he had no evidence -to produce of any attempt at robbery being in contemplation. -He could speak positively to the annoyance and interruption caused -by the Indians, but not to anything else. The magistrate remarked that, -if the annoyance were repeated, the applicant could summon the Indians -to that court, where they might easily be dealt with under the Act. -As to the valuables in Mr. Luker's possession, Mr. Luker himself must -take the best measures for their safe custody. He would do well perhaps -to communicate with the police, and to adopt such additional precautions -as their experience might suggest. The applicant thanked his worship, -and withdrew." - - - -One of the wise ancients is reported (I forget on what occasion) -as having recommended his fellow-creatures to "look to the end." -Looking to the end of these pages of mine, and wondering for -some days past how I should manage to write it, I find my plain -statement of facts coming to a conclusion, most appropriately, -of its own self. We have gone on, in this matter of the Moonstone, -from on marvel to another; and here we end with the greatest -marvel of all--namely, the accomplishment of Sergeant Cuff's -three predictions in less than a week from the time when he had -made them. - -After hearing from the Yollands on the Monday, I had now heard of -the Indians, and heard of the money-lender, in the news from London-- -Miss Rachel herself remember, being also in London at the time. -You see, I put things at their worst, even when they tell dead -against my own view. If you desert me, and side with the Sergeant, -on the evidence before you--if the only rational explanation you -can see is, that Miss Rachel and Mr. Luker must have got together, -and that the Moonstone must be now in pledge in the money-lender's house-- -I own, I can't blame you for arriving at that conclusion. In the dark, -I have brought you thus far. In the dark I am compelled to leave you, -with my best respects. - -Why compelled? it may be asked. Why not take the persons who have gone -along with me, so far, up into those regions of superior enlightenment -in which I sit myself? - -In answer to this, I can only state that I am acting under orders, -and that those orders have been given to me (as I understand) -in the interests of truth. I am forbidden to tell more in this -narrative than I knew myself at the time. Or, to put it plainer, -I am to keep strictly within the limits of my own experience, -and am not to inform you of what other persons told me-- -for the very sufficient reason that you are to have the information -from those other persons themselves, at first hand. In this -matter of the Moonstone the plan is, not to present reports, -but to produce witnesses. I picture to myself a member -of the family reading these pages fifty years hence. -Lord! what a compliment he will feel it, to be asked to take nothing -on hear-say, and to be treated in all respects like a Judge on -the bench. - -At this place, then, we part--for the present, at least-- -after long journeying together, with a companionable feeling, -I hope, on both sides. The devil's dance of the Indian Diamond -has threaded its way to London; and to London you must go -after it, leaving me at the country-house. Please to excuse -the faults of this composition--my talking so much of myself, -and being too familiar, I am afraid, with you. I mean no harm; -and I drink most respectfully (having just done dinner) -to your health and prosperity, in a tankard of her ladyship's ale. -May you find in these leaves of my writing, what ROBINSON -CRUSOE found in his experience on the desert island-- -namely, "something to comfort yourselves from, and to set -in the Description of Good and Evil, on the Credit Side of -the Account."--Farewell. - - - -THE END OF THE FIRST PERIOD. - - - - - - SECOND PERIOD - - THE DISCOVERY OF THE TRUTH (1848-1849) - - The events related in several narratives. - - - - FIRST NARRATIVE - - Contributed by MISS CLACK; niece of the late - SIR JOHN VERINDER - - - -CHAPTER I - - -I am indebted to my dear parents (both now in heaven) for having had habits -of order and regularity instilled into me at a very early age. - -In that happy bygone time, I was taught to keep my hair tidy -at all hours of the day and night, and to fold up every article -of my clothing carefully, in the same order, on the same chair, -in the same place at the foot of the bed, before retiring -to rest. An entry of the day's events in my little diary -invariably preceded the folding up. The "Evening Hymn" -(repeated in bed) invariably followed the folding up. -And the sweet sleep of childhood invariably followed the -"Evening Hymn." - -In later life (alas!) the Hymn has been succeeded by sad and -bitter meditations; and the sweet sleep has been but ill exchanged -for the broken slumbers which haunt the uneasy pillow of care. -On the other hand, I have continued to fold my clothes, -and to keep my little diary. The former habit links me to my -happy childhood--before papa was ruined. The latter habit-- -hitherto mainly useful in helping me to discipline the fallen -nature which we all inherit from Adam--has unexpectedly proved -important to my humble interests in quite another way. -It has enabled poor Me to serve the caprice of a wealthy member -of the family into which my late uncle married. I am fortunate -enough to be useful to Mr. Franklin Blake. - -I have been cut off from all news of my relatives by marriage -for some time past. When we are isolated and poor, we are not -infrequently forgotten. I am now living, for economy's sake, -in a little town in Brittany, inhabited by a select circle -of serious English friends, and possessed of the inestimable -advantages of a Protestant clergyman and a cheap market. - -In this retirement--a Patmos amid the howling ocean of popery -that surrounds us--a letter from England has reached me at last. -I find my insignificant existence suddenly remembered by -Mr. Franklin Blake. My wealthy relative--would that I could add -my spiritually-wealthy relative!--writes, without even an attempt -at disguising that he wants something of me. The whim has -seized him to stir up the deplorable scandal of the Moonstone: -and I am to help him by writing the account of what I myself -witnessed while visiting at Aunt Verinder's house in London. -Pecuniary remuneration is offered to me--with the want -of feeling peculiar to the rich. I am to re-open wounds -that Time has barely closed; I am to recall the most intensely -painful remembrances--and this done, I am to feel myself compensated -by a new laceration, in the shape of Mr. Blake's cheque. -My nature is weak. It cost me a hard struggle, before Christian -humility conquered sinful pride, and self-denial accepted -the cheque. - -Without my diary, I doubt--pray let me express it in the grossest terms!-- -if I could have honestly earned my money. With my diary, the poor labourer -(who forgives Mr. Blake for insulting her) is worthy of her hire. -Nothing escaped me at the time I was visiting dear Aunt Verinder. -Everything was entered (thanks to my early training) day by day -as it happened; and everything down to the smallest particular, -shall be told here. My sacred regard for truth is (thank God) -far above my respect for persons. It will be easy for Mr. Blake -to suppress what may not prove to be sufficiently flattering -in these pages to the person chiefly concerned in them. He has -purchased my time, but not even HIS wealth can purchase my conscience -too.* - - - -* NOTE. ADDED BY FRANKLIN BLAKE.--Miss Clack may make her mind quite -easy on this point. Nothing will be added, altered or removed, -in her manuscript, or in any of the other manuscripts which -pass through my hands. Whatever opinions any of the writers -may express, whatever peculiarities of treatment may mark, -and perhaps in a literary sense, disfigure the narratives which I -am now collecting, not a line will be tampered with anywhere, -from first to last. As genuine documents they are sent to me-- -and as genuine documents I shall preserve them, endorsed by -the attestations of witnesses who can speak to the facts. -It only remains to be added that "the person chiefly concerned" -in Miss Clack's narrative, is happy enough at the present moment, -not only to brave the smartest exercise of Miss Clack's pen, -but even to recognise its unquestionable value as an instrument for -the exhibition of Miss Clack's character. - - - -My diary informs me, that I was accidentally passing Aunt Verinder's house -in Montagu Square, on Monday, 3rd July, 1848. - -Seeing the shutters opened, and the blinds drawn up, I felt that it -would be an act of polite attention to knock, and make inquiries. -The person who answered the door, informed me that my aunt and -her daughter (I really cannot call her my cousin!) had arrived from -the country a week since, and meditated making some stay in London. -I sent up a message at once, declining to disturb them, and only -begging to know whether I could be of any use. - -The person who answered the door, took my message in insolent silence, -and left me standing in the hall. She is the daughter of a heathen old -man named Betteredge--long, too long, tolerated in my aunt's family. -I sat down in the hall to wait for my answer--and, having always -a few tracts in my bag, I selected one which proved to be quite -providentially applicable to the person who answered the door. -The hall was dirty, and the chair was hard; but the blessed -consciousness of returning good for evil raised me quite above -any trifling considerations of that kind. The tract was one -of a series addressed to young women on the sinfulness of dress. -In style it was devoutly familiar. Its title was, "A Word With You On -Your Cap-Ribbons." - -"My lady is much obliged, and begs you will come and lunch to-morrow at two." - -I passed over the manner in which she gave her message, -and the dreadful boldness of her look. I thanked this -young castaway; and I said, in a tone of Christian interest, -"Will you favour me by accepting a tract?" - -She looked at the title. "Is it written by a man or a woman, Miss? -If it's written by a woman, I had rather not read it on that account. -If it's written by a man, I beg to inform him that he knows nothing -about it." She handed me back the tract, and opened the door. -We must sow the good seed somehow. I waited till the door was -shut on me, and slipped the tract into the letter-box. When I had -dropped another tract through the area railings, I felt relieved, -in some small degree, of a heavy responsibility towards others. - - - -We had a meeting that evening of the Select Committee of the -Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society. The object of this excellent -Charity is--as all serious people know--to rescue unredeemed fathers' -trousers from the pawnbroker, and to prevent their resumption, -on the part of the irreclaimable parent, by abridging them immediately -to suit the proportions of the innocent son. I was a member, -at that time, of the select committee; and I mention the Society here, -because my precious and admirable friend, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, -was associated with our work of moral and material usefulness. -I had expected to see him in the boardroom, on the Monday evening -of which I am now writing, and had proposed to tell him, when we met, -of dear Aunt Verinder's arrival in London. To my great disappointment -he never appeared. On my expressing a feeling of surprise at his absence, -my sisters of the Committee all looked up together from their trousers -(we had a great pressure of business that night), and asked in amazement, -if I had not heard the news. I acknowledged my ignorance, and was -then told, for the first time, of an event which forms, so to speak, -the starting-point of this narrative. On the previous Friday, -two gentlemen--occupying widely-different positions in society-- -had been the victims of an outrage which had startled all London. -One of the gentlemen was Mr. Septimus Luker, of Lambeth. The other was -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. - -Living in my present isolation, I have no means of introducing -the newspaper-account of the outrage into my narrative. I was -also deprived, at the time, of the inestimable advantage of hearing -the events related by the fervid eloquence of Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. -All I can do is to state the facts as they were stated, -on that Monday evening, to me; proceeding on the plan which I -have been taught from infancy to adopt in folding up my clothes. -Everything shall be put neatly, and everything shall be put in its place. -These lines are written by a poor weak woman. From a poor weak woman -who will be cruel enough to expect more? - -The date--thanks to my dear parents, no dictionary that ever -was written can be more particular than I am about dates-- -was Friday, June 30th, 1848. - -Early on that memorable day, our gifted Mr. Godfrey happened -to be cashing a cheque at a banking-house in Lombard Street. -The name of the firm is accidentally blotted in my diary, and my -sacred regard for truth forbids me to hazard a guess in a matter -of this kind. Fortunately, the name of the firm doesn't matter. -What does matter is a circumstance that occurred when Mr. Godfrey -had transacted his business. On gaining the door, he encountered -a gentleman--a perfect stranger to him--who was accidentally -leaving the office exactly at the same time as himself. -A momentary contest of politeness ensued between them as to -who should be the first to pass through the door of the bank. -The stranger insisted on making Mr. Godfrey precede him; -Mr. Godfrey said a few civil words; they bowed, and parted in -the street. - -Thoughtless and superficial people may say, Here is surely a very trumpery -little incident related in an absurdly circumstantial manner. Oh, my young -friends and fellow-sinners! beware of presuming to exercise your poor -carnal reason. Oh, be morally tidy. Let your faith be as your stockings, -and your stockings as your faith. Both ever spotless, and both ready to put -on at a moment's notice! - -I beg a thousand pardons. I have fallen insensibly into my -Sunday-school style. Most inappropriate in such a record -as this. Let me try to be worldly--let me say that trifles, -in this case as in many others, led to terrible results. -Merely premising that the polite stranger was Mr. Luker, -of Lambeth, we will now follow Mr. Godfrey home to his residence -at Kilburn. - -He found waiting for him, in the hall, a poorly clad but delicate -and interesting-looking little boy. The boy handed him a letter, -merely mentioning that he had been entrusted with it by an old -lady whom he did not know, and who had given him no instructions -to wait for an answer. Such incidents as these were not uncommon -in Mr. Godfrey's large experience as a promoter of public charities. -He let the boy go, and opened the letter. - -The handwriting was entirely unfamiliar to him. It requested his attendance, -within an hour's time, at a house in Northumberland Street, Strand, -which he had never had occasion to enter before. The object sought -was to obtain from the worthy manager certain details on the subject -of the Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conver-sion-Society, and the information -was wanted by an elderly lady who proposed adding largely to the resources -of the charity, if her questions were met by satisfactory replies. -She mentioned her name, and she added that the shortness of her stay -in London prevented her from giving any longer notice to the eminent -philanthropist whom she addressed. - -Ordinary people might have hesitated before setting aside -their own engagements to suit the convenience of a stranger. -The Christian Hero never hesitates where good is to be done. -Mr. Godfrey instantly turned back, and proceeded to the house -in Northumberland Street. A most respectable though somewhat -corpulent man answered the door, and, on hearing Mr. Godfrey's name, -immediately conducted him into an empty apartment at the back, -on the drawing-room floor. He noticed two unusual things on entering -the room. One of them was a faint odour of musk and camphor. -The other was an ancient Oriental manuscript, richly illuminated -with Indian figures and devices, that lay open to inspection on -a table. - -He was looking at the book, the position of which caused him to stand -with his back turned towards the closed folding doors communicating -with the front room, when, without the slightest previous noise to -warn him, he felt himself suddenly seized round the neck from behind. -He had just time to notice that the arm round his neck was naked and of a -tawny-brown colour, before his eyes were bandaged, his mouth was gagged, -and he was thrown helpless on the floor by (as he judged) two men. -A third rifled his pockets, and--if, as a lady, I may venture to use -such an expression--searched him, without ceremony, through and through to -his skin. - -Here I should greatly enjoy saying a few cheering words on the devout -confidence which could alone have sustained Mr. Godfrey in an emergency -so terrible as this. Perhaps, however, the position and appearance of my -admirable friend at the culminating period of the outrage (as above described) -are hardly within the proper limits of female discussion. -Let me pass over the next few moments, and return to Mr. Godfrey -at the time when the odious search of his person had been completed. -The outrage had been perpetrated throughout in dead silence. -At the end of it some words were exchanged, among the invisible wretches, -in a language which he did not understand, but in tones which were -plainly expressive (to his cultivated ear) of disappointment and rage. -He was suddenly lifted from the ground, placed in a chair, and bound -there hand and foot. The next moment he felt the air flowing in from -the open door, listened, and concluded that he was alone again in -the room. - -An interval elapsed, and he heard a sound below like the rustling -sound of a woman's dress. It advanced up the stairs, and stopped. -A female scream rent the atmosphere of guilt. A man's voice -below exclaimed "Hullo!" A man's feet ascended the stairs. -Mr. Godfrey felt Christian fingers unfastening his bandage, -and extracting his gag. He looked in amazement at two -respectable strangers, and faintly articulated, "What does -it mean?" The two respectable strangers looked back, and said, -"Exactly the question we were going to ask YOU." - -The inevitable explanation followed. No! Let me be scrupulously particular. -Sal volatile and water followed, to compose dear Mr. Godfrey's nerves. -The explanation came next. - -It appeared from the statement of the landlord and landlady of the house -(persons of good repute in the neighbourhood), that their first and -second floor apartments had been engaged, on the previous day, for a -week certain, by a most respectable-looking gentleman--the same who has -been already described as answering the door to Mr. Godfrey's knock. -The gentleman had paid the week's rent and all the week's extras in advance, -stating that the apartments were wanted for three Oriental noblemen, -friends of his, who were visiting England for the first time. -Early on the morning of the outrage, two of the Oriental strangers, -accompanied by their respectable English friend, took possession -of the apartments. The third was expected to join them shortly; -and the luggage (reported as very bulky) was announced to follow -when it had passed through the Custom-house, late in the afternoon. -Not more than ten minutes previous to Mr. Godfrey's visit, the third -foreigner had arrived. Nothing out of the common had happened, -to the knowledge of the landlord and landlady down-stairs, until -within the last five minutes--when they had seen the three foreigners, -accompanied by their respectable English friend, all leave the house together, -walking quietly in the direction of the Strand. Remembering that a -visitor had called, and not having seen the visitor also leave the house, -the landlady had thought it rather strange that the gentleman should be -left by himself up-stairs. After a short discussion with her husband, -she had considered it advisable to ascertain whether anything was wrong. -The result had followed, as I have already attempted to describe it; -and there the explanation of the landlord and the landlady came to an -end. - -An investigation was next made in the room. Dear Mr. Godfrey's -property was found scattered in all directions. -When the articles were collected, however, nothing was missing; -his watch, chain, purse, keys, pocket-handkerchief, note-book, -and all his loose papers had been closely examined, -and had then been left unharmed to be resumed by the owner. -In the same way, not the smallest morsel of property belonging -to the proprietors of the house had been abstracted. -The Oriental noblemen had removed their own illuminated manuscript, -and had removed nothing else. - -What did it mean? Taking the worldly point of view, -it appeared to mean that Mr. Godfrey had been the victim of some -incomprehensible error, committed by certain unknown men. -A dark conspiracy was on foot in the midst of us; and our -beloved and innocent friend had been entangled in its meshes. -When the Christian hero of a hundred charitable victories plunges -into a pitfall that has been dug for him by mistake, oh, what a -warning it is to the rest of us to be unceasingly on our guard! -How soon may our own evil passions prove to be Oriental noblemen -who pounce on us unawares! - -I could write pages of affectionate warning on this one theme, but -(alas!) I am not permitted to improve--I am condemned to narrate. -My wealthy relative's cheque--henceforth, the incubus of my existence-- -warns me that I have not done with this record of violence yet. -We must leave Mr. Godfrey to recover in Northumberland Street, -and must follow the proceedings of Mr. Luker at a later period of -the day. - -After leaving the bank, Mr. Luker had visited various parts -of London on business errands. Returning to his own residence, -he found a letter waiting for him, which was described as having -been left a short time previously by a boy. In this case, -as in Mr. Godfrey's case, the handwriting was strange; -but the name mentioned was the name of one of Mr. Luker's customers. -His correspondent announced (writing in the third person-- -apparently by the hand of a deputy) that he had been -unexpectedly summoned to London. He had just established -himself in lodgings in Alfred Place, Tottenham Court Road; -and he desired to see Mr. Luker immediately, on the subject -of a purchase which he contemplated making. The gentleman was -an enthusiastic collector of Oriental antiquities, and had been -for many years a liberal patron of the establishment in Lambeth. -Oh, when shall we wean ourselves from the worship of Mammon! -Mr. Luker called a cab, and drove off instantly to his -liberal patron. - -Exactly what had happened to Mr. Godfrey in Northumberland Street -now happened to Mr. Luker in Alfred Place. Once more the respectable -man answered the door, and showed the visitor up-stairs into the back -drawing-room. There, again, lay the illuminated manuscript on a table. -Mr. Luker's attention was absorbed, as Mr. Godfrey's attention -had been absorbed, by this beautiful work of Indian art. -He too was aroused from his studies by a tawny naked arm round -his throat, by a bandage over his eyes, and by a gag in his mouth. -He too was thrown prostrate and searched to the skin. A longer interval -had then elapsed than had passed in the experience of Mr. Godfrey; -but it had ended as before, in the persons of the house suspecting -something wrong, and going up-stairs to see what had happened. -Precisely the same explanation which the landlord in Northumberland -Street had given to Mr. Godfrey, the landlord in Alfred Place now -gave to Mr. Luker. Both had been imposed on in the same way by the -plausible address and well-filled purse of the respectable stranger, -who introduced himself as acting for his foreign friends. The one -point of difference between the two cases occurred when the scattered -contents of Mr. Luker's pockets were being collected from the floor. -His watch and purse were safe, but (less fortunate than Mr. Godfrey) -one of the loose papers that he carried about him had been taken away. -The paper in question acknowledged the receipt of a valuable of great -price which Mr. Luker had that day left in the care of his bankers. -This document would be useless for purposes of fraud, inasmuch as it -provided that the valuable should only be given up on the personal -application of the owner. As soon as he recovered himself, Mr. Luker -hurried to the bank, on the chance that the thieves who had robbed him -might ignorantly present themselves with the receipt. Nothing had -been seen of them when he arrived at the establishment, and nothing -was seen of them afterwards. Their respectable English friend had -(in the opinion of the bankers) looked the receipt over before they -attempted to make use of it, and had given them the necessary warning in -good time. - -Information of both outrages was communicated to the police, -and the needful investigations were pursued, I believe, -with great energy. The authorities held that a robbery had -been planned, on insufficient information received by the thieves. -They had been plainly not sure whether Mr. Luker had, or had not, -trusted the transmission of his precious gem to another person; -and poor polite Mr. Godfrey had paid the penalty of having -been seen accidentally speaking to him. Add to this, -that Mr. Godfrey's absence from our Monday evening meeting -had been occasioned by a consultation of the authorities, -at which he was requested to assist--and all the explanations -required being now given, I may proceed with the simpler story -of my own little personal experiences in Montagu Square. - - - -I was punctual to the luncheon hour on Tuesday. Reference to my diary shows -this to have been a chequered day--much in it to be devoutly regretted, -much in it to be devoutly thankful for. - -Dear Aunt Verinder received me with her usual grace and kindness. -But I noticed, after a little while, that something was wrong. -Certain anxious looks escaped my aunt, all of which took the direction -of her daughter. I never see Rachel myself without wondering how it -can be that so insignificant-looking a person should be the child -of such distinguished parents as Sir John and Lady Verinder. -On this occasion, however, she not only disappointed--she really -shocked me. There was an absence of all lady-like restraint -in her language and manner most painful to see. She was possessed -by some feverish excitement which made her distressingly loud when -she laughed, and sinfully wasteful and capricious in what she ate -and drank at lunch. I felt deeply for her poor mother, even before -the true state of the case had been confidentially made known -to me. - -Luncheon over, my aunt said: "Remember what the doctor told you, -Rachel, about quieting yourself with a book after taking your meals." - -"I'll go into the library, mamma," she answered. -"But if Godfrey calls, mind I am told of it. I am dying for more -news of him, after his adventure in Northumberland Street." -She kissed her mother on the forehead, and looked my way. -"Good-bye, Clack," she said, carelessly. Her insolence roused -no angry feeling in me; I only made a private memorandum to pray -for her. - -When we were left by ourselves, my aunt told me the whole -horrible story of the Indian Diamond, which, I am happy to know, -it is not necessary to repeat here. She did not conceal from me -that she would have preferred keeping silence on the subject. -But when her own servants all knew of the loss of the Moonstone, -and when some of the circumstances had actually found their way -into the newspapers--when strangers were speculating whether -there was any connection between what had happened at Lady -Verinder's country-house, and what had happened in Northumberland -Street and Alfred Place--concealment was not to be thought of; -and perfect frankness became a necessity as well as a virtue. - -Some persons, hearing what I now heard, would have been -probably overwhelmed with astonishment. For my own part, -knowing Rachel's spirit to have been essentially unregenerate -from her childhood upwards, I was prepared for whatever -my aunt could tell me on the subject of her daughter. -It might have gone on from bad to worse till it ended in Murder; -and I should still have said to myself, The natural result! oh, -dear, dear, the natural result! The one thing that DID shock -me was the course my aunt had taken under the circumstances. -Here surely was a case for a clergyman, if ever there was one yet! -Lady Verinder had thought it a case for a physician. All my poor -aunt's early life had been passed in her father's godless household. -The natural result again! Oh, dear, dear, the natural -result again! - -"The doctors recommend plenty of exercise and amusement for Rachel, -and strongly urge me to keep her mind as much as possible from dwelling -on the past," said Lady Verinder. - -"Oh, what heathen advice!" I thought to myself. "In this Christian country, -what heathen advice!" - -My aunt went on, "I do my best to carry out my instructions. But this -strange adventure of Godfrey's happens at a most unfortunate time. -Rachel has been incessantly restless and excited since she first heard of it. -She left me no peace till I had written and asked my nephew Ablewhite -to come here. She even feels an interest in the other person who was -roughly used--Mr. Luker, or some such name--though the man is, of course, -a total stranger to her." - -"Your knowledge of the world, dear aunt, is superior to mine," -I suggested diffidently. "But there must be a reason -surely for this extraordinary conduct on Rachel's part. -She is keeping a sinful secret from you and from everybody. -May there not be something in these recent events which threatens her -secret with discovery?" - -"Discovery?" repeated my aunt. "What can you possibly mean? -Discovery through Mr. Luker? Discovery through my nephew?" - -As the word passed her lips, a special providence occurred. -The servant opened the door, and announced Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. - - - -CHAPTER II - - - -Mr. Godfrey followed the announcement of his name-- -as Mr. Godfrey does everything else--exactly at the right time. -He was not so close on the servant's heels as to startle us. -He was not so far behind as to cause us the double inconvenience -of a pause and an open door. It is in the completeness of his -daily life that the true Christian appears. This dear man was -very complete. - -"Go to Miss Verinder," said my aunt, addressing the servant, -"and tell her Mr. Ablewhite is here." - -We both inquired after his health. We both asked him together whether -he felt like himself again, after his terrible adventure of the past week. -With perfect tact, he contrived to answer us at the same moment. -Lady Verinder had his reply in words. I had his charming smile. - -"What," he cried, with infinite tenderness, "have I done -to deserve all this sympathy? My dear aunt! my dear -Miss Clack! I have merely been mistaken for somebody else. -I have only been blindfolded; I have only been strangled; -I have only been thrown flat on my back, on a very thin carpet, -covering a particularly hard floor. Just think how much -worse it might have been! I might have been murdered; -I might have been robbed. What have I lost? Nothing but -Nervous Force--which the law doesn't recognise as property; -so that, strictly speaking, I have lost nothing at all. -If I could have had my own way, I would have kept my adventure -to myself--I shrink from all this fuss and publicity. -But Mr. Luker made HIS injuries public, and my injuries, -as the necessary consequence, have been proclaimed in their turn. -I have become the property of the newspapers, until the gentle reader -gets sick of the subject. I am very sick indeed of it myself. -May the gentle reader soon be like me! And how is dear Rachel? -Still enjoying the gaieties of London? So glad to hear it! -Miss Clack, I need all your indulgence. I am sadly behind-hand -with my Committee Work and my dear Ladies. But I really -do hope to look in at the Mothers'-Small-Clothes next week. -Did you make cheering progress at Monday's Committee? Was the Board -hopeful about future prospects? And are we nicely off for -Trousers?" - -The heavenly gentleness of his smile made his apologies irresistible. -The richness of his deep voice added its own indescribable charm to -the interesting business question which he had just addressed to me. -In truth, we were almost TOO nicely off for Trousers; we were quite -overwhelmed by them. I was just about to say so, when the door opened again, -and an element of worldly disturbance entered the room, in the person of -Miss Verinder. - -She approached dear Mr. Godfrey at a most unladylike rate of speed, -with her hair shockingly untidy, and her face, what I should call, -unbecomingly flushed. - -"I am charmed to see you, Godfrey," she said, addressing him, -I grieve to add, in the off-hand manner of one young man talking -to another. "I wish you had brought Mr. Luker with you. -You and he (as long as our present excitement lasts) are the two -most interesting men in all London. It's morbid to say this; -it's unhealthy; it's all that a well-regulated mind like Miss -Clack's most instinctively shudders at. Never mind that. -Tell me the whole of the Northumberland Street story directly. -I know the newspapers have left some of it out." - -Even dear Mr. Godfrey partakes of the fallen nature which we -all inherit from Adam--it is a very small share of our -human legacy, but, alas! he has it. I confess it grieved -me to see him take Rachel's hand in both of his own hands, -and lay it softly on the left side of his waistcoat. -It was a direct encouragement to her reckless way of talking, -and her insolent reference to me. - -"Dearest Rachel," he said, in the same voice which had thrilled me -when he spoke of our prospects and our trousers, "the newspapers -have told you everything--and they have told it much better than -I can." - -"Godfrey thinks we all make too much of the matter," my aunt remarked. -"He has just been saying that he doesn't care to speak of it." - -"Why?" - -She put the question with a sudden flash in her eyes, -and a sudden look up into Mr. Godfrey's face. On his side, -he looked down at her with an indulgence so injudicious and so -ill-deserved, that I really felt called on to interfere. - -"Rachel, darling!" I remonstrated gently, "true greatness and true courage -are ever modest." - -"You are a very good fellow in your way, Godfrey," she said-- -not taking the smallest notice, observe, of me, and still speaking -to her cousin as if she was one young man addressing another. -"But I am quite sure you are not great; I don't believe you -possess any extraordinary courage; and I am firmly persuaded-- -if you ever had any modesty--that your lady-worshippers relieved -you of that virtue a good many years since. You have some private -reason for not talking of your adventure in Northumberland Street; -and I mean to know it." - -"My reason is the simplest imaginable, and the most easily acknowledged," -he answered, still bearing with her. "I am tired of the subject." - -"You are tired of the subject? My dear Godfrey, I am going to make a remark." - -"What is it?" - -"You live a great deal too much in the society of women. -And you have contracted two very bad habits in consequence. -You have learnt to talk nonsense seriously, and you have got -into a way of telling fibs for the pleasure of telling them. -You can't go straight with your lady-worshippers. I mean to make -you go straight with me. Come, and sit down. I am brimful -of downright questions; and I expect you to be brimful of -downright answers." - -She actually dragged him across the room to a chair by the window, -where the light would fall on his face. I deeply feel being obliged -to report such language, and to describe such conduct. But, hemmed in, -as I am, between Mr. Franklin Blake's cheque on one side and my own sacred -regard for truth on the other, what am I to do? I looked at my aunt. -She sat unmoved; apparently in no way disposed to interfere. -I had never noticed this kind of torpor in her before. It was, perhaps, -the reaction after the trying time she had had in the country. -Not a pleasant symptom to remark, be it what it might, at dear Lady -Verinder's age, and with dear Lady Verinder's autumnal exuberance -of figure. - -In the meantime, Rachel had settled herself at the window with -our amiable and forbearing--our too forbearing--Mr. Godfrey. -She began the string of questions with which she had threatened him, -taking no more notice of her mother, or of myself, than if we had not -been in the room. - -"Have the police done anything, Godfrey?" - -"Nothing whatever." - -"It is certain, I suppose, that the three men who laid the trap for you -were the same three men who afterwards laid the trap for Mr. Luker?" - -"Humanly speaking, my dear Rachel, there can be no doubt of it." - -"And not a trace of them has been discovered?" - -"Not a trace." - -"It is thought--is it not?--that these three men are the three Indians -who came to our house in the country." - -"Some people think so." - -"Do you think so?" - -"My dear Rachel, they blindfolded me before I could see their faces. -I know nothing whatever of the matter. How can I offer an opinion -on it?" - -Even the angelic gentleness of Mr. Godfrey was, you see, -beginning to give way at last under the persecution inflicted -on him. Whether unbridled curiosity, or ungovernable dread, -dictated Miss Verinder's questions I do not presume to inquire. -I only report that, on Mr. Godfrey's attempting to rise, -after giving her the answer just described, she actually -took him by the two shoulders, and pushed him back into -his chair--Oh, don't say this was immodest! don't even hint -that the recklessness of guilty terror could alone account -for such conduct as I have described! We must not judge others. -My Christian friends, indeed, indeed, indeed, we must not -judge others! - -She went on with her questions, unabashed. Earnest Biblical students will -perhaps be reminded--as I was reminded--of the blinded children of the devil, -who went on with their orgies, unabashed, in the time before the Flood. - -"I want to know something about Mr. Luker, Godfrey." - -"I am again unfortunate, Rachel. No man knows less of Mr. Luker than I do." - -"You never saw him before you and he met accidentally at the bank?" - -"Never." - -"You have seen him since?" - -"Yes. We have been examined together, as well as separately, -to assist the police." - -"Mr. Luker was robbed of a receipt which he had got from his banker's-- -was he not? What was the receipt for?" - -"For a valuable gem which he had placed in the safe keeping of the bank." - -"That's what the newspapers say. It may be enough for the general reader; -but it is not enough for me. The banker's receipt must have mentioned what -the gem was?" - -"The banker's receipt, Rachel--as I have heard it described-- -mentioned nothing of the kind. A valuable gem, belonging to -Mr. Luker; deposited by Mr. Luker; sealed with Mr. Luker's seal; -and only to be given up on Mr. Luker's personal application. -That was the form, and that is all I know about it." - -She waited a moment, after he had said that. She looked at her mother, -and sighed. She looked back again at Mr. Godfrey, and went on. - -"Some of our private affairs, at home," she said, "seem to have got -into the newspapers?" - -"I grieve to say, it is so." - -"And some idle people, perfect strangers to us, are trying to trace -a connexion between what happened at our house in Yorkshire and what has -happened since, here in London?" - -"The public curiosity, in certain quarters, is, I fear, -taking that turn." - -"The people who say that the three unknown men who ill-used you -and Mr. Luker are the three Indians, also say that the valuable gem----" - -There she stopped. She had become gradually, within the last few moments, -whiter and whiter in the face. The extraordinary blackness of her hair -made this paleness, by contrast, so ghastly to look at, that we all thought -she would faint, at the moment when she checked herself in the middle of -her question. Dear Mr. Godfrey made a second attempt to leave his chair. -My aunt entreated her to say no more. I followed my aunt with a -modest medicinal peace-offering, in the shape of a bottle of salts. -We none of us produced the slightest effect on her. "Godfrey, stay -where you are. Mamma, there is not the least reason to be alarmed -about me. Clack, you're dying to hear the end of it--I won't faint, -expressly to oblige YOU." - -Those were the exact words she used--taken down in my diary -the moment I got home. But, oh, don't let us judge! -My Christian friends, don't let us judge! - -She turned once more to Mr. Godfrey. With an obstinacy dreadful to see, -she went back again to the place where she had checked herself, and completed -her question in these words: - -"I spoke to you, a minute since, about what people were saying -in certain quarters. Tell me plainly, Godfrey, do they any -of them say that Mr. Luker's valuable gem is--the Moonstone?" - -As the name of the Indian Diamond passed her lips, I saw a change -come over my admirable friend. His complexion deepened. He lost -the genial suavity of manner which is one of his greatest charms. -A noble indignation inspired his reply. - -"They DO say it," he answered. "There are people who don't hesitate -to accuse Mr. Luker of telling a falsehood to serve some private -interests of his own. He has over and over again solemnly declared that, -until this scandal assailed him, he had never even heard of the Moonstone. -And these vile people reply, without a shadow of proof to justify them, -He has his reasons for concealment; we decline to believe him on his oath. -Shameful! shameful!" - -Rachel looked at him very strangely--I can't well describe how-- -while he was speaking. When he had done, she said, "Considering that -Mr. Luker is only a chance acquaintance of yours, you take up -his cause, Godfrey, rather warmly." - -My gifted friend made her one of the most truly evangelical answers I -ever heard in my life. - -"I hope, Rachel, I take up the cause of all oppressed people rather warmly," -he said. - -The tone in which those words were spoken might have melted a stone. -But, oh dear, what is the hardness of stone? Nothing, compared to -the hardness of the unregenerate human heart! She sneered. -I blush to record it--she sneered at him to his face. - -"Keep your noble sentiments for your Ladies' Committees, Godfrey. -I am certain that the scandal which has assailed Mr. Luker, -has not spared You." - -Even my aunt's torpor was roused by those words. - -"My dear Rachel," she remonstrated, "you have really no right to say that!" - -"I mean no harm, mamma--I mean good. Have a moment's patience with me, -and you will see." - -She looked back at Mr. Godfrey, with what appeared to be a sudden -pity for him. She went the length--the very unladylike length-- -of taking him by the hand. - -"I am certain," she said, "that I have found out the true reason of your -unwillingness to speak of this matter before my mother and before me. -An unlucky accident has associated you in people's minds with Mr. Luker. -You have told me what scandal says of HIM. What does scandal say -of you?" - -Even at the eleventh hour, dear Mr. Godfrey--always ready to return -good for evil--tried to spare her. - -"Don't ask me!" he said. "It's better forgotten, Rachel--it is, indeed." - -"I WILL hear it!" she cried out, fiercely, at the top of her voice. - -"Tell her, Godfrey!" entreated my aunt. "Nothing can do her such harm -as your silence is doing now!" - -Mr. Godfrey's fine eyes filled with tears. He cast one last appealing -look at her--and then he spoke the fatal words: - -"If you will have it, Rachel--scandal says that the Moonstone is in pledge -to Mr. Luker, and that I am the man who has pawned it." - -She started to her feet with a scream. She looked backwards -and forwards from Mr. Godfrey to my aunt, and from my aunt -to Mr. Godfrey, in such a frantic manner that I really thought -she had gone mad. - -"Don't speak to me! Don't touch me!" she exclaimed, shrinking back from -all of us (I declare like some hunted animal!) into a corner of the room. -"This is my fault! I must set it right. I have sacrificed myself-- -I had a right to do that, if I liked. But to let an innocent man be ruined; -to keep a secret which destroys his character for life--Oh, good God, -it's too horrible! I can't bear it!" - -My aunt half rose from her chair, then suddenly sat down again. -She called to me faintly, and pointed to a little phial in her -work-box. - -"Quick!" she whispered. "Six drops, in water. Don't let Rachel see." - -Under other circumstances, I should have thought this strange. -There was no time now to think--there was only time to give the medicine. -Dear Mr. Godfrey unconsciously assisted me in concealing what I was about -from Rachel, by speaking composing words to her at the other end of -the room. - -"Indeed, indeed, you exaggerate," I heard him say. "My reputation stands -too high to be destroyed by a miserable passing scandal like this. -It will be all forgotten in another week. Let us never speak of it again." -She was perfectly inaccessible, even to such generosity as this. -She went on from bad to worse. - -"I must, and will, stop it," she said. "Mamma! hear what I say. -Miss Clack! hear what I say. I know the hand that took the Moonstone. -I know--" she laid a strong emphasis on the words; she stamped her foot -in the rage that possessed her--"I KNOW THAT GODFREY ABLEWHITE IS INNOCENT. -Take me to the magistrate, Godfrey! Take me to the magistrate, and I will -swear it!" - -My aunt caught me by the hand, and whispered, "Stand between us -for a minute or two. Don't let Rachel see me." I noticed a bluish -tinge in her face which alarmed me. She saw I was startled. -"The drops will put me right in a minute or two," she said, and so -closed her eyes, and waited a little. - -While this was going on, I heard dear Mr. Godfrey still gently remonstrating. - -"You must not appear publicly in such a thing as this," he sad. -"YOUR reputation, dearest Rachel, is something too pure and too sacred -to be trifled with." - -"MY reputation!" She burst out laughing. "Why, I am accused, Godfrey, -as well as you. The best detective officer in England declares that I -have stolen my own Diamond. Ask him what he thinks--and he will tell -you that I have pledged the Moonstone to pay my private debts!" -She stopped, ran across the room--and fell on her knees at her mother's feet. -"Oh mamma! mamma! mamma! I must be mad--mustn't I?--not to own -the truth NOW?" She was too vehement to notice her mother's condition-- -she was on her feet again, and back with Mr. Godfrey, in an instant. -"I won't let you--I won't let any innocent man--be accused and disgraced -through my fault. If you won't take me before the magistrate, -draw out a declaration of your innocence on paper, and I will sign it. -Do as I tell you, Godfrey, or I'll write it to the newspapers I'll go out, -and cry it in the streets!" - -We will not say this was the language of remorse--we will say it -was the language of hysterics. Indulgent Mr. Godfrey pacified -her by taking a sheet of paper, and drawing out the declaration. -She signed it in a feverish hurry. "Show it everywhere-- -don't think of ME," she said, as she gave it to him. "I am afraid, -Godfrey, I have not done you justice, hitherto, in my thoughts. -You are more unselfish--you are a better man than I believed you to be. -Come here when you can, and I will try and repair the wrong I have -done you." - -She gave him her hand. Alas, for our fallen nature! Alas, for Mr. Godfrey! -He not only forgot himself so far as to kiss her hand--he adopted -a gentleness of tone in answering her which, in such a case, was little -better than a compromise with sin. "I will come, dearest," he said, -"on condition that we don't speak of this hateful subject again." -Never had I seen and heard our Christian Hero to less advantage than on -this occasion. - -Before another word could be said by anybody, a thundering knock -at the street door startled us all. I looked through the window, -and saw the World, the Flesh, and the Devil waiting before the house-- -as typified in a carriage and horses, a powdered footman, -and three of the most audaciously dressed women I ever beheld in -my life. - -Rachel started, and composed herself. She crossed the room to her mother. - -"They have come to take me to the flower-show," she said. -"One word, mamma, before I go. I have not distressed you, -have I?" - -(Is the bluntness of moral feeling which could ask such a question -as that, after what had just happened, to be pitied or condemned? -I like to lean towards mercy. Let us pity it.) - -The drops had produced their effect. My poor aunt's complexion was -like itself again. "No, no, my dear," she said. "Go with our friends, -and enjoy yourself." - -Her daughter stooped, and kissed her. I had left the window, -and was near the door, when Rachel approached it to go out. -Another change had come over her--she was in tears. I looked -with interest at the momentary softening of that obdurate heart. -I felt inclined to say a few earnest words. Alas! my well-meant -sympathy only gave offence. "What do you mean by pitying me?" -she asked in a bitter whisper, as she passed to the door. -"Don't you see how happy I am? I'm going to the flower-show, Clack; -and I've got the prettiest bonnet in London." She completed -the hollow mockery of that address by blowing me a kiss--and so left -the room. - -I wish I could describe in words the compassion I felt for this miserable and -misguided girl. But I am almost as poorly provided with words as with money. -Permit me to say--my heart bled for her. - -Returning to my aunt's chair, I observed dear Mr. Godfrey searching -for something softly, here and there, in different parts of the room. -Before I could offer to assist him he had found what he wanted. -He came back to my aunt and me, with his declaration of innocence in -one hand, and with a box of matches in the other. - -"Dear aunt, a little conspiracy!" he said. "Dear Miss Clack, -a pious fraud which even your high moral rectitude will excuse! -Will you leave Rachel to suppose that I accept the generous -self-sacrifice which has signed this paper? And will you kindly -bear witness that I destroy it in your presence, before I leave -the house?" He kindled a match, and, lighting the paper, -laid it to burn in a plate on the table. "Any trifling -inconvenience that I may suffer is as nothing," he remarked, -"compared with the importance of preserving that pure name from -the contaminating contact of the world. There! We have reduced -it to a little harmless heap of ashes; and our dear impulsive -Rachel will never know what we have done! How do you feel? -My precious friends, how do you feel? For my poor part, I am as -light-hearted as a boy!" - -He beamed on us with his beautiful smile; he held out a hand to my aunt, -and a hand to me. I was too deeply affected by his noble conduct to speak. -I closed my eyes; I put his hand, in a kind of spiritual self-forgetfulness, -to my lips. He murmured a soft remonstrance. Oh the ecstasy, the pure, -unearthly ecstasy of that moment! I sat--I hardly know on what--quite lost -in my own exalted feelings. When I opened my eyes again, it was like -descending from heaven to earth. There was nobody but my aunt in the room. -He had gone. - -I should like to stop here--I should like to close my -narrative with the record of Mr. Godfrey's noble conduct. -Unhappily there is more, much more, which the unrelenting -pecuniary pressure of Mr. Blake's cheque obliges me to tell. -The painful disclosures which were to reveal themselves -in my presence, during that Tuesday's visit to Montagu Square, -were not at an end yet. - -Finding myself alone with Lady Verinder, I turned naturally -to the subject of her health; touching delicately on the strange -anxiety which she had shown to conceal her indisposition, -and the remedy applied to it, from the observation of her daughter. - -My aunt's reply greatly surprised me. - -"Drusilla," she said (if I have not already mentioned that my Christian name -is Drusilla, permit me to mention it now), "you are touching quite innocently, -I know--on a very distressing subject." - -I rose immediately. Delicacy left me but one alternative-- -the alternative, after first making my apologies, of taking -my leave. Lady Verinder stopped me, and insisted on my sitting -down again. - -"You have surprised a secret," she said, "which I had confided -to my sister Mrs. Ablewhite, and to my lawyer Mr. Bruff, -and to no one else. I can trust in their discretion; and I am sure, -when I tell you the circumstances, I can trust in yours. -Have you any pressing engagement, Drusilla? or is your time -your own this afternoon?" - -It is needless to say that my time was entirely at my aunt's disposal. - -"Keep me company then," she said, "for another hour. -I have something to tell you which I believe you will be sorry -to hear. And I shall have a service to ask of you afterwards, -if you don't object to assist me." - -It is again needless to say that, so far from objecting, -I was all eagerness to assist her. - -"You can wait here," she went on, "till Mr. Bruff comes at five. -And you can be one of the witnesses, Drusilla, when I sign -my Will." - -Her Will! I thought of the drops which I had seen in her work-box. I -thought of the bluish tinge which I had noticed in her complexion. -A light which was not of this world--a light shining prophetically -from an unmade grave--dawned on my mind. My aunt's secret was a secret -no longer. - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Consideration for poor Lady Verinder forbade me even to hint that I -had guessed the melancholy truth, before she opened her lips. -I waited her pleasure in silence; and, having privately arranged -to say a few sustaining words at the first convenient opportunity, -felt prepared for any duty that could claim me, no matter how painful it -might be. - -"I have been seriously ill, Drusilla, for some time past," my aunt began. -"And, strange to say, without knowing it myself." - -I thought of the thousands and thousands of perishing human creatures -who were all at that moment spiritually ill, without knowing it themselves. -And I greatly feared that my poor aunt might be one of the number. -"Yes, dear," I said, sadly. "Yes." - -"I brought Rachel to London, as you know, for medical advice," she went on. -"I thought it right to consult two doctors." - -Two doctors! And, oh me (in Rachel's state), not one clergyman! -"Yes, dear?" I said once more. "Yes?" - -"One of the two medical men," proceeded my aunt, "was a stranger to me. -The other had been an old friend of my husband's, and had always felt -a sincere interest in me for my husband's sake. After prescribing -for Rachel, he said he wished to speak to me privately in another room. -I expected, of course, to receive some special directions for the -management of my daughter's health. To my surprise, he took me gravely -by the hand, and said, "I have been looking at you, Lady Verinder, -with a professional as well as a personal interest. You are, I am afraid, -far more urgently in need of medical advice than your daughter." -He put some questions to me, which I was at first inclined to treat -lightly enough, until I observed that my answers distressed him. -It ended in his making an appointment to come and see me, accompanied by a -medical friend, on the next day, at an hour when Rachel would not be at home. -The result of that visit--most kindly and gently conveyed to me-- -satisfied both the physicians that there had been precious time lost, -which could never be regained, and that my case had now passed beyond -the reach of their art. For more than two years I have been suffering -under an insidious form of heart disease, which, without any symptoms -to alarm me, has, by little and little, fatally broken me down. I may live -for some months, or I may die before another day has passed over my head-- -the doctors cannot, and dare not, speak more positively than this. -It would be vain to say, my dear, that I have not had some miserable moments -since my real situation has been made known to me. But I am more resigned -than I was, and I am doing my best to set my worldly affairs in order. -My one great anxiety is that Rachel should be kept in ignorance of the truth. -If she knew it, she would at once attribute my broken health to anxiety -about the Diamond, and would reproach herself bitterly, poor child, -for what is in no sense her fault. Both the doctors agree that the -mischief began two, if not three years since. I am sure you will keep -my secret, Drusilla--for I am sure I see sincere sorrow and sympathy for me -in your face." - -Sorrow and sympathy! Oh, what Pagan emotions to expect from a Christian -Englishwoman anchored firmly on her faith! - -Little did my poor aunt imagine what a gush of devout thankfulness -thrilled through me as she approached the close of her melancholy story. -Here was a career of usefulness opened before me! Here was a beloved -relative and perishing fellow-creature, on the eve of the great change, -utterly unprepared; and led, providentially led, to reveal her -situation to Me! How can I describe the joy with which I now -remembered that the precious clerical friends on whom I could rely, -were to be counted, not by ones or twos, but by tens and twenties. -I took my aunt in my arms--my overflowing tenderness was not to -be satisfied, now, with anything less than an embrace. "Oh!" I said -to her, fervently, "the indescribable interest with which you inspire me! -Oh! the good I mean to do you, dear, before we part!" After another word -or two of earnest prefatory warning, I gave her her choice of three -precious friends, all plying the work of mercy from morning to night -in her own neighbourhood; all equally inexhaustible in exhortation; -all affectionately ready to exercise their gifts at a word from me. -Alas! the result was far from encouraging. Poor Lady Verinder looked puzzled -and frightened, and met everything I could say to her with the purely worldly -objection that she was not strong enough to face strangers. I yielded-- -for the moment only, of course. My large experience (as Reader and Visitor, -under not less, first and last, than fourteen beloved clerical friends) -informed me that this was another case for preparation by books. -I possessed a little library of works, all suitable to the present emergency, -all calculated to arouse, convince, prepare, enlighten, and fortify my aunt. -"You will read, dear, won't you?" I said, in my most winning way. -"You will read, if I bring you my own precious books? Turned down at -all the right places, aunt. And marked in pencil where you are to stop -and ask yourself, "Does this apply to me?"" Even that simple appeal-- -so absolutely heathenising is the influence of the world--appeared to startle -my aunt. She said, "I will do what I can, Drusilla, to please you," -with a look of surprise, which was at once instructive and terrible -to see. Not a moment was to be lost. The clock on the mantel-piece -informed me that I had just time to hurry home; to provide myself -with a first series of selected readings (say a dozen only); and to -return in time to meet the lawyer, and witness Lady Verinder's Will. -Promising faithfully to be back by five o'clock, I left the house on my -errand of mercy. - -When no interests but my own are involved, I am humbly content to get -from place to place by the omnibus. Permit me to give an idea of my -devotion to my aunt's interests by recording that, on this occasion, -I committed the prodigality of taking a cab. - -I drove home, selected and marked my first series of readings, -and drove back to Montagu Square, with a dozen works in a -carpet-bag, the like of which, I firmly believe, are not to -be found in the literature of any other country in Europe. -I paid the cabman exactly his fare. He received it with an oath; -upon which I instantly gave him a tract. If I had presented -a pistol at his head, this abandoned wretch could hardly have -exhibited greater consternation. He jumped up on his box, and, -with profane exclamations of dismay, drove off furiously. -Quite useless, I am happy to say! I sowed the good seed, -in spite of him, by throwing a second tract in at the window of -the cab. - -The servant who answered the door--not the person with the cap-ribbons, -to my great relief, but the foot-man--informed me that the doctor -had called, and was still shut up with Lady Verinder. Mr. Bruff, -the lawyer, had arrived a minute since and was waiting in the library. -I was shown into the library to wait too. - -Mr. Bruff looked surprised to see me. He is the family solicitor, and we -had met more than once, on previous occasions, under Lady Verinder's roof. -A man, I grieve to say, grown old and grizzled in the service of the world. -A man who, in his hours of business, was the chosen prophet of Law and Mammon; -and who, in his hours of leisure, was equally capable of reading a novel and -of tearing up a tract. - -"Have you come to stay here, Miss Clack?" he asked, with a look -at my carpet-bag. - -To reveal the contents of my precious bag to such a person as this -would have been simply to invite an outburst of profanity. -I lowered myself to his own level, and mentioned my business in -the house. - -"My aunt has informed me that she is about to sign her Will," -I answered. "She has been so good as to ask me to be one of -the witnesses." - -"Aye? aye? Well, Miss Clack, you will do. You are over twenty-one, -and you have not the slightest pecuniary interest in Lady Verinder's Will." - -Not the slightest pecuniary interest in Lady Verinder's Will. -Oh, how thankful I felt when I heard that! If my aunt, -possessed of thousands, had remembered poor Me, to whom five -pounds is an object--if my name had appeared in the Will, -with a little comforting legacy attached to it--my enemies -might have doubted the motive which had loaded me with -the choicest treasures of my library, and had drawn upon -my failing resources for the prodigal expenses of a cab. -Not the cruellest scoffer of them all could doubt now. -Much better as it was! Oh, surely, surely, much better as -it was! - -I was aroused from these consoling reflections by the voice of Mr. Bruff. -My meditative silence appeared to weigh upon the spirits of this worldling, -and to force him, as it were, into talking to me against his own will. - -"Well, Miss Clack, what's the last news in the charitable circles? -How is your friend Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, after the mauling he got -from the rogues in Northumberland Street? Egad! they're telling -a pretty story about that charitable gentleman at my club!" - -I had passed over the manner in which this person had remarked -that I was more than twenty-one, and that I had no pecuniary -interest in my aunt's Will. But the tone in which he alluded -to dear Mr. Godfrey was too much for my forbearance. -Feeling bound, after what had passed in my presence that afternoon, -to assert the innocence of my admirable friend, whenever I -found it called in question--I own to having also felt bound -to include in the accomplishment of this righteous purpose, -a stinging castigation in the case of Mr. Bruff. - -"I live very much out of the world," I said; "and I don't possess -the advantage, sir, of belonging to a club. But I happen to know -the story to which you allude; and I also know that a viler falsehood -than that story never was told." - -"Yes, yes, Miss Clack--you believe in your friend. Natural enough. -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, won't find the world in general quite so easy -to convince as a committee of charitable ladies. Appearances are -dead against him. He was in the house when the Diamond was lost. -And he was the first person in the house to go to London afterwards. -Those are ugly circumstances, ma'am, viewed by the light of -later events." - -I ought, I know, to have set him right before he went any farther. -I ought to have told him that he was speaking in ignorance of a testimony -to Mr. Godfrey's innocence, offered by the only person who was -undeniably competent to speak from a positive knowledge of the subject. -Alas! the temptation to lead the lawyer artfully on to his own discomfiture -was too much for me. I asked what he meant by "later events"--with an -appearance of the utmost innocence. - -"By later events, Miss Clack, I mean events in which the Indians -are concerned," proceeded Mr. Bruff, getting more and more superior -to poor Me, the longer he went on. "What do the Indians do, -the moment they are let out of the prison at Frizinghall? -They go straight to London, and fix on Mr. Luker. -What follows? Mr. Luker feels alarmed for the safety of "a -valuable of great price," which he has got in the house. -He lodges it privately (under a general description) -in his bankers' strong-room. Wonderfully clever of him: -but the Indians are just as clever on their side. -They have their suspicions that the "valuable of great price" -is being shifted from one place to another; and they hit on a -singularly bold and complete way of clearing those suspicions up. -Whom do they seize and search? Not Mr. Luker only-- -which would be intelligible enough--but Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite -as well. Why? Mr. Ablewhite's explanation is, that they acted -on blind suspicion, after seeing him accidentally speaking -to Mr. Luker. Absurd! Half-a-dozen other people spoke to -Mr. Luker that morning. Why were they not followed home too, -and decoyed into the trap? No! no! The plain inference is, -that Mr. Ablewhite had his private interest in the "valuable" -as well as Mr. Luker, and that the Indians were so uncertain -as to which of the two had the disposal of it, that there -was no alternative but to search them both. Public opinion -says that, Miss Clack. And public opinion, on this occasion, -is not easily refuted." - -He said those last words, looking so wonderfully wise in his -own worldly conceit, that I really (to my shame be it spoken) -could not resist leading him a little farther still, before I -overwhelmed him with the truth. - -"I don't presume to argue with a clever lawyer like you," I said. -"But is it quite fair, sir, to Mr. Ablewhite to pass over the opinion -of the famous London police officer who investigated this case? -Not the shadow of a suspicion rested upon anybody but Miss Verinder, -in the mind of Sergeant Cuff." - -"Do you mean to tell me, Miss Clack, that you agree with the Sergeant?" - -"I judge nobody, sir, and I offer no opinion." - -"And I commit both those enormities, ma'am. I judge the Sergeant -to have been utterly wrong; and I offer the opinion that, -if he had known Rachel's character as I know it, -he would have suspected everybody in the house but HER. -I admit that she has her faults--she is secret, and self-willed; -odd and wild, and unlike other girls of her age. -But true as steel, and high-minded and generous to a fault. -If the plainest evidence in the world pointed one way, -and if nothing but Rachel's word of honour pointed the other, -I would take her word before the evidence, lawyer as I am! -Strong language, Miss Clack; but I mean it." - -"Would you object to illustrate your meaning, Mr. Bruff, so that I may be -sure I understand it? Suppose you found Miss Verinder quite unaccountably -interested in what has happened to Mr. Ablewhite and Mr. Luker? -Suppose she asked the strangest questions about this dreadful scandal, -and displayed the most ungovernable agitation when she found out the turn it -was taking?" - -"Suppose anything you please, Miss Clack, it wouldn't shake my belief -in Rachel Verinder by a hair's-breadth." - -"She is so absolutely to be relied on as that?" - -"So absolutely to be relied on as that." - -"Then permit me to inform you, Mr. Bruff, that Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite -was in this house not two hours since, and that his entire innocence -of all concern in the disappearance of the Moonstone was proclaimed -by Miss Verinder herself, in the strongest language I ever heard used -by a young lady in my life. - -I enjoyed the triumph--the unholy triumph, I fear I must admit-- -of seeing Mr. Bruff utterly confounded and overthrown by a few plain -words from Me. He started to his feet, and stared at me in silence. -I kept my seat, undisturbed, and related the whole scene as it -had occurred. "And what do you say about Mr. Ablewhite now?" -I asked, with the utmost possible gentleness, as soon as I -had done. - -"If Rachel has testified to his innocence, Miss Clack, I don't -scruple to say that I believe in his innocence as firmly as you do: -I have been misled by appearances, like the rest of the world; -and I will make the best atonement I can, by publicly contradicting -the scandal which has assailed your friend wherever I meet with it. -In the meantime, allow me to congratulate you on the masterly -manner in which you have opened the full fire of your batteries -on me at the moment when I least expected it. You would have done -great things in my profession, ma'am, if you had happened to be -a man." - -With those words he turned away from me, and began walking irritably up -and down the room. - -I could see plainly that the new light I had thrown on the subject -had greatly surprised and disturbed him. Certain expressions dropped -from his lips, as he became more and more absorbed in his own thoughts, -which suggested to my mind the abominable view that he had hitherto taken -of the mystery of the lost Moonstone. He had not scrupled to suspect -dear Mr. Godfrey of the infamy of stealing the Diamond, and to attribute -Rachel's conduct to a generous resolution to conceal the crime. -On Miss Verinder's own authority--a perfectly unassailable authority, -as you are aware, in the estimation of Mr. Bruff--that explanation -of the circumstances was now shown to be utterly wrong. The perplexity -into which I had plunged this high legal authority was so overwhelming -that he was quite unable to conceal it from notice. "What a case!" -I heard him say to himself, stopping at the window in his walk, and drumming -on the glass with his fingers. "It not only defies explanation, it's even -beyond conjecture." - -There was nothing in these words which made any reply at all needful, -on my part--and yet, I answered them! It seems hardly credible -that I should not have been able to let Mr. Bruff alone, even now. -It seems almost beyond mere mortal perversity that I should -have discovered, in what he had just said, a new opportunity of making -myself personally disagreeable to him. But--ah, my friends! nothing -is beyond mortal perversity; and anything is credible when our fallen -natures get the better of us! - -"Pardon me for intruding on your reflections," I said to the unsuspecting -Mr. Bruff. "But surely there is a conjecture to make which has not occurred -to us yet." - -"Maybe, Miss Clack. I own I don't know what it is." - -"Before I was so fortunate, sir, as to convince you of Mr. Ablewhite's -innocence, you mentioned it as one of the reasons for suspecting him, -that he was in the house at the time when the Diamond was lost. -Permit me to remind you that Mr. Franklin Blake was also in the house -at the time when the Diamond was lost." - -The old wordling left the window, took a chair exactly opposite to mine, -and looked at me steadily, with a hard and vicious smile. - -"You are not so good a lawyer, Miss Clack," he remarked in a -meditative manner, "as I supposed. You don't know how to let well alone." - -"I am afraid I fail to follow you, Mr. Bruff," I said, modestly. - -"It won't do, Miss Clack--it really won't do a second time. -Franklin Blake is a prime favourite of mine, as you are -well aware. But that doesn't matter. I'll adopt your view, -on this occasion, before you have time to turn round on me. -You're quite right, ma'am. I have suspected Mr. Ablewhite, -on grounds which abstractedly justify suspecting Mr. Blake too. -Very good--let's suspect them together. It's quite in his character, -we will say, to be capable of stealing the Moonstone. -The only question is, whether it was his interest to -do so." - -"Mr. Franklin Blake's debts," I remarked, "are matters of family notoriety." - -"And Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's debts have not arrived at that -stage of development yet. Quite true. But there happen -to be two difficulties in the way of your theory, Miss Clack. -I manage Franklin Blake's affairs, and I beg to inform you -that the vast majority of his creditors (knowing his father to be -a rich man) are quite content to charge interest on their debts, -and to wait for their money. There is the first difficulty-- -which is tough enough. You will find the second tougher still. -I have it on the authority of Lady Verinder herself, that her -daughter was ready to marry Franklin Blake, before that infernal -Indian Diamond disappeared from the house. She had drawn him -on and put him off again, with the coquetry of a young girl. -But she had confessed to her mother that she loved cousin Franklin, -and her mother had trusted cousin Franklin with the secret. -So there he was, Miss Clack, with his creditors content to wait, -and with the certain prospect before him of marrying an heiress. -By all means consider him a scoundrel; but tell me, if you please, -why he should steal the Moonstone?" - -"The human heart is unsearchable," I said gently. "Who is to fathom it?" - -"In other words, ma'am--though he hadn't the shadow of a reason for taking -the Diamond--he might have taken it, nevertheless, through natural depravity. -Very well. Say he did. Why the devil----" - -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Bruff. If I hear the devil referred -to in that manner, I must leave the room." - -"I beg YOUR pardon, Miss Clack--I'll be more careful in my -choice of language for the future. All I meant to ask -was this. Why--even supposing he did take the Diamond-- -should Franklin Blake make himself the most prominent person -in the house in trying to recover it? You may tell me -he cunningly did that to divert suspicion from himself. -I answer that he had no need to divert suspicion-- -because nobody suspected him. He first steals the Moonstone -(without the slightest reason) through natural depravity; -and he then acts a part, in relation to the loss of the jewel, -which there is not the slightest necessity to act, and which -leads to his mortally offending the young lady who would -otherwise have married him. That is the monstrous proposition -which you are driven to assert, if you attempt to associate -the disappearance of the Moonstone with Franklin Blake. -No, no, Miss Clack! After what has passed here to-day, -between us two, the dead-lock, in this case, is complete. -Rachel's own innocence is (as her mother knows, and as I know) -beyond a doubt. Mr. Ablewhite's innocence is equally certain-- -or Rachel would never have testified to it. And Franklin Blake's -innocence, as you have just seen, unanswerably asserts itself. -On the one hand, we are morally certain of all these things. -And, on the other hand, we are equally sure that somebody has -brought the Moonstone to London, and that Mr. Luker, or his banker, -is in private possession of it at this moment. What is the use -of my experience, what is the use of any person's experience, -in such a case as that? It baffles me; it baffles you, it -baffles everybody." - -No--not everybody. It had not baffled Sergeant Cuff. -I was about to mention this, with all possible mildness, -and with every necessary protest against being supposed -to cast a slur upon Rachel--when the servant came in to say -that the doctor had gone, and that my aunt was waiting to -receive us. - -This stopped the discussion. Mr. Bruff collected his papers, -looking a little exhausted by the demands which our conversation -had made on him. I took up my bag-full of precious publications, -feeling as if I could have gone on talking for hours. We proceeded -in silence to Lady Verinder's room. - -Permit me to add here, before my narrative advances to other events, -that I have not described what passed between the lawyer and me, -without having a definite object in view. I am ordered to include -in my contribution to the shocking story of the Moonstone -a plain disclosure, not only of the turn which suspicion took, -but even of the names of the persons on whom suspicion rested, -at the time when the Indian Diamond was believed to be in London. -A report of my conversation in the library with Mr. Bruff appeared -to me to be exactly what was wanted to answer this purpose-- -while, at the same time, it possessed the great moral advantage -of rendering a sacrifice of sinful self-esteem essentially necessary -on my part. I have been obliged to acknowledge that my fallen -nature got the better of me. In making that humiliating confession, -I get the better of my fallen nature. The moral balance is restored; -the spiritual atmosphere feels clear once more. Dear friends, we may go -on again. - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -The signing of the Will was a much shorter matter than I had anticipated. -It was hurried over, to my thinking, in indecent haste. Samuel, the footman, -was sent for to act as second witness--and the pen was put at once into my -aunt's hand. I felt strongly urged to say a few appropriate words on this -solemn occasion. But Mr. Bruff's manner convinced me that it was wisest -to check the impulse while he was in the room. In less than two minutes it -was all over--and Samuel (unbenefited by what I might have said) had gone -downstairs again. - -Mr. Bruff folded up the Will, and then looked my way; -apparently wondering whether I did or did not mean to leave -him alone with my aunt. I had my mission of mercy to fulfil, -and my bag of precious publications ready on my lap. -He might as well have expected to move St. Paul's Cathedral -by looking at it, as to move Me. There was one merit about him -(due no doubt to his worldly training) which I have no wish to deny. -He was quick at seeing things. I appeared to produce almost -the same impression on him which I had produced on the cabman. -HE too uttered a profane expression, and withdrew in a violent hurry, -and left me mistress of the field. - -As soon as we were alone, my aunt reclined on the sofa, and then alluded, -with some appearance of confusion, to the subject of her Will. - -"I hope you won't think yourself neglected, Drusilla," she said. -"I mean to GIVE you your little legacy, my dear, with my own hand." - -Here was a golden opportunity! I seized it on the spot. -In other words, I instantly opened my bag, and took out -the top publication. It proved to be an early edition-- -only the twenty-fifth--of the famous anonymous work (believed to -be by precious Miss Bellows), entitled THE SERPENT AT HOME. -The design of the book--with which the worldly reader may not -be acquainted--is to show how the Evil One lies in wait for us -in all the most apparently innocent actions of our daily lives. -The chapters best adapted to female perusal are "Satan -in the Hair Brush;" "Satan behind the Looking Glass;" -"Satan under the Tea Table;" "Satan out of the Window'-- -and many others. - -"Give your attention, dear aunt, to this precious book-- -and you will give me all I ask. "With those words, I handed -it to her open, at a marked passage--one continuous burst of -burning eloquence! Subject: Satan among the Sofa Cushions. - -Poor Lady Verinder (reclining thoughtlessly on her own sofa cushions) -glanced at the book, and handed it back to me looking more confused -than ever. - -"I'm afraid, Drusilla," she said, "I must wait till I am a little better, -before I can read that. The doctor----" - -The moment she mentioned the doctor's name, I knew what was coming. -Over and over again in my past experience among my perishing -fellow-creatures, the members of the notoriously infidel profession -of Medicine had stepped between me and my mission of mercy-- -on the miserable pretence that the patient wanted quiet, -and that the disturbing influence of all others which they -most dreaded, was the influence of Miss Clack and her Books. -Precisely the same blinded materialism (working treacherously -behind my back) now sought to rob me of the only right of property -that my poverty could claim--my right of spiritual property in my -perishing aunt. - -"The doctor tells me," my poor misguided relative went on, -"that I am not so well to-day. He forbids me to see any strangers; -and he orders me, if I read at all, only to read the lightest -and the most amusing books. 'Do nothing, Lady Verinder, -to weary your head, or to quicken your pulse'--those were his -last words, Drusilla, when he left me to-day." - -There was no help for it but to yield again--for the moment only, as before. -Any open assertion of the infinitely superior importance of such a ministry -as mine, compared with the ministry of the medical man, would only have -provoked the doctor to practise on the human weakness of his patient, -and to threaten to throw up the case. Happily, there are more ways than one -of sowing the good seed, and few persons are better versed in those ways -than myself. - -"You might feel stronger, dear, in an hour or two," I said. -"Or you might wake, to-morrow morning, with a sense of something wanting, -and even this unpretending volume might be able to supply it. -You will let me leave the book, aunt? The doctor can hardly object -to that!" - -I slipped it under the sofa cushions, half in, and half out, -close by her handkerchief, and her smelling-bottle. Every time -her hand searched for either of these, it would touch the book; -and, sooner or later (who knows?) the book might touch HER. -After making this arrangement, I thought it wise to withdraw. -"Let me leave you to repose, dear aunt; I will call again to-morrow." -I looked accidentally towards the window as I said that. It was full -of flowers, in boxes and pots. Lady Verinder was extravagantly -fond of these perishable treasures, and had a habit of rising -every now and then, and going to look at them and smell them. -A new idea flashed across my mind. "Oh! may I take a flower?" -I said--and got to the window unsuspected, in that way. -Instead of taking away a flower, I added one, in the shape -of another book from my bag, which I left, to surprise my aunt, -among the geraniums and roses. The happy thought followed, -"Why not do the same for her, poor dear, in every other room -that she enters?" I immediately said good-bye; and, crossing -the hall, slipped into the library. Samuel, coming up to let -me out, and supposing I had gone, went down-stairs again. -On the library table I noticed two of the "amusing books" -which the infidel doctor had recommended. I instantly covered -them from sight with two of my own precious publications. -In the breakfast-room I found my aunt's favourite canary -singing in his cage. She was always in the habit of feeding -the bird herself. Some groundsel was strewed on a table which stood -immediately under the cage. I put a book among the groundsel. -In the drawing-room I found more cheering opportunities -of emptying my bag. My aunt's favourite musical pieces were -on the piano. I slipped in two more books among the music. -I disposed of another in the back drawing-room, under some -unfinished embroidery, which I knew to be of Lady Verinder's working. -A third little room opened out of the back drawing-room, -from which it was shut off by curtains instead of a door. -My aunt's plain old-fashioned fan was on the chimney-piece. I -opened my ninth book at a very special passage, and put the fan -in as a marker, to keep the place. The question then came, -whether I should go higher still, and try the bed-room floor-- -at the risk, undoubtedly, of being insulted, if the person -with the cap-ribbons happened to be in the upper regions -of the house, and to find me put. But oh, what of that? -It is a poor Christian that is afraid of being insulted. -I went upstairs, prepared to bear anything. All was silent -and solitary--it was the servants' tea-time, I suppose. -My aunt's room was in front. The minature of my late -dear uncle, Sir John, hung on the wall opposite the bed. -It seemed to smile at me; it seemed to say, "Drusilla! deposit -a book." There were tables on either side of my aunt's bed. -She was a bad sleeper, and wanted, or thought she wanted, -many things at night. I put a book near the matches on one side, -and a book under the box of chocolate drops on the other. -Whether she wanted a light, or whether she wanted a drop, -there was a precious publication to meet her eye, or to meet -her hand, and to say with silent eloquence, in either case, -"Come, try me! try me!" But one book was now left at the bottom -of my bag, and but one apartment was still unexplored-- -the bath-room, which opened out of the bed-room. I peeped in; -and the holy inner voice that never deceives, whispered to me, -"You have met her, Drusilla, everywhere else; meet her at -the bath, and the work is done." I observed a dressing-gown -thrown across a chair. It had a pocket in it, and in that -pocket I put my last book. Can words express my exquisite -sense of duty done, when I had slipped out of the house, -unsuspected by any of them, and when I found myself in the street -with my empty bag under my arm? Oh, my worldly friends, -pursuing the phantom, Pleasure, through the guilty mazes -of Dissipation, how easy it is to be happy, if you will only be -good! - -When I folded up my things that night--when I reflected on -the true riches which I had scattered with such a lavish hand, -from top to bottom of the house of my wealthy aunt--I declare I -felt as free from all anxiety as if I had been a child again. -I was so light-hearted that I sang a verse of the Evening Hymn. -I was so light-hearted that I fell asleep before I could -sing another. Quite like a child again! quite like a -child again! - -So I passed that blissful night. On rising the next morning, -how young I felt! I might add, how young I looked, if I were -capable of dwelling on the concerns of my own perishable body. -But I am not capable--and I add nothing. - -Towards luncheon time--not for the sake of the creature-comforts, but for the -certainty of finding dear aunt--I put on my bonnet to go to Montagu Square. -Just as I was ready, the maid at the lodgings in which I then lived looked -in at the door, and said, "Lady Verinder's servant, to see Miss Clack." - -I occupied the parlour-floor, at that period of my residence -in London. The front parlour was my sitting-room. Very small, -very low in the ceiling, very poorly furnished--but, oh, so neat! -I looked into the passage to see which of Lady Verinder's -servants had asked for me. It was the young footman, Samuel-- -a civil fresh-coloured person, with a teachable look and a -very obliging manner. I had always felt a spiritual interest -in Samuel, and a wish to try him with a few serious words. -On this occasion, I invited him into my sitting-room. - -He came in, with a large parcel under his arm. When he put the parcel down, -it appeared to frighten him. "My lady's love, Miss; and I was to say that you -would find a letter inside." Having given that message, the fresh-coloured -young footman surprised me by looking as if he would have liked to run away. - -I detained him to make a few kind inquiries. Could I see my aunt, -if I called in Montagu Square? No; she had gone out for a drive. -Miss Rachel had gone with her, and Mr. Ablewhite had taken a seat -in the carriage, too. Knowing how sadly dear Mr. Godfrey's charitable -work was in arrear, I thought it odd that he should be going out driving, -like an idle man. I stopped Samuel at the door, and made a few -more kind inquiries. Miss Rachel was going to a ball that night, -and Mr. Ablewhite had arranged to come to coffee, and go with her. -There was a morning concert advertised for to-morrow, and Samuel was ordered -to take places for a large party, including a place for Mr. Ablewhite. -"All the tickets may be gone, Miss," said this innocent youth, -"if I don't run and get them at once!" He ran as he said the words-- -and I found myself alone again, with some anxious thoughts to -occupy me. - -We had a special meeting of the Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion Society -that night, summoned expressly with a view to obtaining Mr. Godfrey's advice -and assistance. Instead of sustaining our sisterhood, under an overwhelming -flow of Trousers which quite prostrated our little community, he had -arranged to take coffee in Montagu Square, and to go to a ball afterwards! -The afternoon of the next day had been selected for the Festival of -the British-Ladies'- Servants'-Sunday-Sweetheart-Supervision Society. -Instead of being present, the life and soul of that struggling Institution, -he had engaged to make one of a party of worldlings at a morning concert! -I asked myself what did it mean? Alas! it meant that our Christian Hero was -to reveal himself to me in a new character, and to become associated in my -mind with one of the most awful backslidings of modern times. - -To return, however, to the history of the passing day. -On finding myself alone in my room, I naturally turned -my attention to the parcel which appeared to have so -strangely intimidated the fresh-coloured young footman. -Had my aunt sent me my promised legacy? and had it taken -the form of cast-off clothes, or worn-out silver spoons, -or unfashionable jewellery, or anything of that sort? -Prepared to accept all, and to resent nothing, I opened the parcel-- -and what met my view? The twelve precious publications -which I had scattered through the house, on the previous day; -all returned to me by the doctor's orders! Well might the youthful -Samuel shrink when he brought his parcel into my room! -Well might he run when he had performed his miserable errand! -As to my aunt's letter, it simply amounted, poor soul, to this-- -that she dare not disobey her medical man. - -What was to be done now? With my training and my principles, -I never had a moment's doubt. - -Once self-supported by conscience, once embarked on a career -of manifest usefulness, the true Christian never yields. -Neither public nor private influences produce the slightest -effect on us, when we have once got our mission. Taxation may -be the consequence of a mission; riots may be the consequence -of a mission; wars may be the consequence of a mission: -we go on with our work, irrespective of every human consideration -which moves the world outside us. We are above reason; -we are beyond ridicule; we see with nobody's eyes, we hear -with nobody's ears, we feel with nobody's hearts, but our own. -Glorious, glorious privilege! And how is it earned? -Ah, my friends, you may spare yourselves the useless inquiry! -We are the only people who can earn it--for we are the only -people who are always right. - -In the case of my misguided aunt, the form which pious perseverance -was next to take revealed itself to me plainly enough. - -Preparation by clerical friends had failed, owing to Lady Verinder's -own reluctance. Preparation by books had failed, owing to the doctor's -infidel obstinacy. So be it! What was the next thing to try? -The next thing to try was--Preparation by Little Notes. -In other words, the books themselves having been sent back, -select extracts from the books, copied by different hands, and all -addressed as letters to my aunt, were, some to be sent by post, -and some to be distributed about the house on the plan I had adopted -on the previous day. As letters they would excite no suspicion; -as letters they would be opened--and, once opened, might be read. -Some of them I wrote myself. "Dear aunt, may I ask your attention -to a few lines?" &c. "Dear aunt, I was reading last night, -and I chanced on the following passage," &c. Other letters -were written for me by my valued fellow-workers, the sisterhood -at the Mothers'-Small-Clothes. "Dear madam, pardon the interest -taken in you by a true, though humble, friend." " Dear madam, -may a serious person surprise you by saying a few cheering words?" -Using these and other similar forms of courteous appeal, -we reintroduced all my precious passages under a form which -not even the doctor's watchful materialism could suspect. -Before the shades of evening had closed around us, I had a dozen -awakening letters for my aunt, instead of a dozen awakening books. -Six I made immediate arrangements for sending through the post, -and six I kept in my pocket for personal distribution in the house the -next day. - -Soon after two o'clock I was again on the field of pious conflict, -addressing more kind inquiries to Samuel at Lady Verinder's door. - -My aunt had had a bad night. She was again in the room in which I had -witnessed her Will, resting on the sofa, and trying to get a little sleep. - -I said I would wait in the library, on the chance of seeing her. -In the fervour of my zeal to distribute the letters, it never -occurred to me to inquire about Rachel. The house was quiet, -and it was past the hour at which the musical performance began. -I took it for granted that she and her party of pleasure-seekers -(Mr. Godfrey, alas! included) were all at the concert, and eagerly devoted -myself to my good work, while time and opportunity were still at my -own disposal. - -My aunt's correspondence of the morning--including the six awakening letters -which I had posted overnight--was lying unopened on the library table. -She had evidently not felt herself equal to dealing with a large -mass of letters--and she might be daunted by the number of them, -if she entered the library later in the day. I put one of my second set -of six letters on the chimney-piece by itself; leaving it to attract -her curiosity, by means of its solitary position, apart from the rest. -A second letter I put purposely on the floor in the breakfast-room. The -first servant who went in after me would conclude that my aunt had dropped it, -and would be specially careful to restore it to her. The field thus -sown on the basement story, I ran lightly upstairs to scatter my mercies -next over the drawing-room floor. - -Just as I entered the front room, I heard a double knock at -the street-door--a soft, fluttering, considerate little knock. -Before I could think of slipping back to the library (in which I -was supposed to be waiting), the active young footman was in -the hall, answering the door. It mattered little, as I thought. -In my aunt's state of health, visitors in general were not admitted. -To my horror and amazement, the performer of the soft little knock -proved to be an exception to general rules. Samuel's voice below me -(after apparently answering some questions which I did not hear) -said, unmistakably, "Upstairs, if you please, sir." The next moment I -heard footsteps--a man's footsteps--approaching the drawing-room floor. -Who could this favoured male visitor possibly be? Almost as soon -as I asked myself the question, the answer occurred to me. -Who COULD it be but the doctor? - -In the case of any other visitor, I should have allowed -myself to be discovered in the drawing-room. There would -have been nothing out of the common in my having got tired -of the library, and having gone upstairs for a change. -But my own self-respect stood in the way of my meeting -the person who had insulted me by sending me back my books. -I slipped into the little third room, which I have mentioned -as communicating with the back drawing-room, and dropped -the curtains which closed the open doorway. If I only waited -there for a minute or two, the usual result in such cases would -take place. That is to say, the doctor would be conducted to his -patient's room. - -I waited a minute or two, and more than a minute or two. -I heard the visitor walking restlessly backwards and forwards. -I also heard him talking to himself. I even thought I -recognised the voice. Had I made a mistake? Was it not -the doctor, but somebody else? Mr. Bruff, for instance? -No! an unerring instinct told me it was not Mr. Bruff. -Whoever he was, he was still talking to himself. I parted -the heavy curtains the least little morsel in the world, -and listened. - -The words I heard were, "I'll do it to-day!" And the voice that spoke -them was Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's. - - - -CHAPTER V - - -My hand dropped from the curtain. But don't suppose--oh, don't suppose-- -that the dreadful embarrassment of my situation was the uppermost -idea in my mind! So fervent still was the sisterly interest -I felt in Mr. Godfrey, that I never stopped to ask myself why -he was not at the concert. No! I thought only of the words-- -the startling words--which had just fallen from his lips. -He would do it to-day. He had said, in a tone of terrible resolution, -he would do it to-day. What, oh what, would he do? Something even -more deplorably unworthy of him than what he had done already? -Would he apostatise from the faith? Would he abandon us at -the Mothers'-Small-Clothes? Had we seen the last of his angelic -smile in the committee-room? Had we heard the last of his unrivalled -eloquence at Exeter Hall? I was so wrought up by the bare idea -of such awful eventualities as these in connection with such a man, -that I believe I should have rushed from my place of concealment, -and implored him in the name of all the Ladies' Committees in -London to explain himself--when I suddenly heard another voice -in the room. It penetrated through the curtains; it was loud, -it was bold, it was wanting in every female charm. The voice of -Rachel Verinder. - -"Why have you come up here, Godfrey?" she asked. "Why didn't you -go into the library?" - -He laughed softly, and answered, "Miss Clack is in the library." - -"Clack in the library!" She instantly seated herself on the ottoman -in the back drawing-room. "You are quite right, Godfrey. We had much -better stop here." - -I had been in a burning fever, a moment since, and in some -doubt what to do next. I became extremely cold now, and felt -no doubt whatever. To show myself, after what I had heard, -was impossible. To retreat--except into the fireplace-- -was equally out of the question. A martyrdom was before me. -In justice to myself, I noiselessly arranged the curtains -so that I could both see and hear. And then I met my martyrdom, -with the spirit of a primitive Christian. - -"Don't sit on the ottoman," the young lady proceeded. -"Bring a chair, Godfrey. I like people to be opposite to me -when I talk to them." - -He took the nearest seat. It was a low chair. He was very tall, -and many sizes too large for it. I never saw his legs to such -disadvantage before. - -"Well?" she went on. "What did you say to them?" - -"Just what you said, dear Rachel, to me." - -"That mamma was not at all well to-day? And that I didn't quite -like leaving her to go to the concert?" - -"Those were the words. They were grieved to lose you at the concert, -but they quite understood. All sent their love; and all expressed a -cheering belief that Lady Verinder's indisposition would soon pass away." - -"YOU don't think it's serious, do you, Godfrey?" - -"Far from it! In a few days, I feel quite sure, all will be well again." - -"I think so, too. I was a little frightened at first, but I think so too. -It was very kind to go and make my excuses for me to people who are almost -strangers to you. But why not have gone with them to the concert? It seems -very hard that you should miss the music too." - -"Don't say that, Rachel! If you only knew how much happier -I am--here, with you!" - -He clasped his hands, and looked at her. In the position which he occupied, -when he did that, he turned my way. Can words describe how I sickened when I -noticed exactly the same pathetic expression on his face, which had charmed -me when he was pleading for destitute millions of his fellow-creatures on -the platform at Exeter Hall! - -"It's hard to get over one's bad habits, Godfrey. But do try to get -over the habit of paying compliments--do, to please me." - -"I never paid you a compliment, Rachel, in my life. -Successful love may sometimes use the language of flattery, I admit. -But hopeless love, dearest, always speaks the truth." - -He drew his chair close, and took her hand, when he said "hopeless love." -There was a momentary silence. He, who thrilled everybody, had doubtless -thrilled HER. I thought I now understood the words which had dropped -from him when he was alone in the drawing-room, "I'll do it to-day." -Alas! the most rigid propriety could hardly have failed to discover -that he was doing it now. - -"Have you forgotten what we agreed on, Godfrey, when you spoke -to me in the country? We agreed that we were to be cousins, -and nothing more." - -"I break the agreement, Rachel, every time I see you." - -"Then don't see me." - -"Quite useless! I break the agreement every time I think of you. -Oh, Rachel! how kindly you told me, only the other day, that my place -in your estimation was a higher place than it had ever been yet! -Am I mad to build the hopes I do on those dear words? Am I mad -to dream of some future day when your heart may soften to me? -Don't tell me so, if I am! Leave me my delusion, dearest! I must -have THAT to cherish, and to comfort me, if I have nothing else!" - -His voice trembled, and he put his white handkerchief to his eyes. -Exeter Hall again! Nothing wanting to complete the parallel but -the audience, the cheers, and the glass of water. - -Even her obdurate nature was touched. I saw her lean a little nearer to him. -I heard a new tone of interest in her next words. - -"Are you really sure, Godfrey, that you are so fond of me as that?" - -"Sure! You know what I was, Rachel. Let me tell you what I am. -I have lost every interest in life, but my interest in you. -A transformation has come over me which I can't account for, myself. -Would you believe it? My charitable business is an unendurable -nuisance to me; and when I see a Ladies' Committee now, I wish myself -at the uttermost ends of the earth!" - -If the annals of apostasy offer anything comparable to such a declaration -as that, I can only say that the case in point is not producible from -the stores of my reading. I thought of the Mothers'-Small-Clothes. I thought -of the Sunday-Sweetheart-Supervision. I thought of the other Societies, -too numerous to mention, all built up on this man as on a tower of strength. -I thought of the struggling Female Boards, who, so to speak, drew the breath -of their business-life through the nostrils of Mr. Godfrey--of that same -Mr. Godfrey who had just reviled our good work as a "nuisance"--and just -declared that he wished he was at the uttermost ends of the earth when he -found himself in our company! My young female friends will feel encouraged -to persevere, when I mention that it tried even My discipline before I could -devour my own righteous indignation in silence. At the same time, it is only -justice to myself to add, that I didn't lose a syllable of the conversation. -Rachel was the next to speak. - -"You have made your confession," she said. "I wonder whether it -would cure you of your unhappy attachment to me, if I made mine?" - -He started. I confess I started too. He thought, and I thought, -that she was about to divulge the mystery of the Moonstone. - -"Would you think, to look at me," she went on, "that I am the wretchedest -girl living? It's true, Godfrey. What greater wretchedness can there -be than to live degraded in your own estimation? That is my life now." - -"My dear Rachel! it's impossible you can have any reason to speak -of yourself in that way!" - -"How do you know I have no reason?" - -"Can you ask me the question! I know it, because I know you. -Your silence, dearest, has never lowered you in the estimation -of your true friends. The disappearance of your precious -birthday gift may seem strange; your unexplained connection -with that event may seem stranger still - -"Are you speaking of the Moonstone, Godfrey----" - -"I certainly thought that you referred----" - -"I referred to nothing of the sort. I can hear of the loss of the Moonstone, -let who will speak of it, without feeling degraded in my own estimation. -If the story of the Diamond ever comes to light, it will be known that I -accepted a dreadful responsibility; it will be known that I involved myself -in the keeping of a miserable secret--but it will be as clear as the sun -at noon-day that I did nothing mean! You have misunderstood me, Godfrey. -It's my fault for not speaking more plainly. Cost me what it may, I will be -plainer now. Suppose you were not in love with me? Suppose you were in love -with some other woman?" - -"Yes?" - -"Suppose you discovered that woman to be utterly unworthy of you? -Suppose you were quite convinced that it was a disgrace to you -to waste another thought on her? Suppose the bare idea of ever -marrying such a person made your face burn, only with thinking -of it." - -"Yes?" - -"And, suppose, in spite of all that--you couldn't tear her from your heart? -Suppose the feeling she had roused in you (in the time when you -believed in her) was not a feeling to be hidden? Suppose the love this -wretch had inspired in you? Oh, how can I find words to say it in! -How can I make a MAN understand that a feeling which horrifies me at myself, -can be a feeling that fascinates me at the same time? It's the breath -of my life, Godfrey, and it's the poison that kills me--both in one! -Go away! I must be out of my mind to talk as I am talking now. -No! you mustn't leave me--you mustn't carry away a wrong impression. -I must say what is to be said in my own defence. Mind this! HE doesn't know-- -he never will know, what I have told you. I will never see him-- -I don't care what happens--I will never, never, never see him again! -Don't ask me his name! Don't ask me any more! Let's change the subject. -Are you doctor enough, Godfrey, to tell me why I feel as if I was stifling -for want of breath? Is there a form of hysterics that bursts into words -instead of tears? I dare say! What does it matter? You will get over any -trouble I have caused you, easily enough now. I have dropped to my right -place in your estimation, haven't I? Don't notice me! Don't pity me! -For God's sake, go away!" - -She turned round on a sudden, and beat her hands wildly on -the back of the ottoman. Her head dropped on the cushions; -and she burst out crying. Before I had time to feel shocked, -at this, I was horror-struck by an entirely unexpected proceeding -on the part of Mr. Godfrey. Will it be credited that he fell -on his knees at her feet.?--on BOTH knees, I solemnly declare! -May modesty mention that he put his arms round her next? -And may reluctant admiration acknowledge that he electrified her with -two words? - -"Noble creature!" - -No more than that! But he did it with one of the bursts which have made -his fame as a public speaker. She sat, either quite thunderstruck, -or quite fascinated--I don't know which--without even making -an effort to put his arms back where his arms ought to have been. -As for me, my sense of propriety was completely bewildered. -I was so painfully uncertain whether it was my first duty to close -my eyes, or to stop my ears, that I did neither. I attribute -my being still able to hold the curtain in the right position -for looking and listening, entirely to suppressed hysterics. -In suppressed hysterics, it is admitted, even by the doctors, -that one must hold something. - -"Yes," he said, with all the fascination of his evangelical -voice and manner, "you are a noble creature! A woman -who can speak the truth, for the truth's own sake--a woman -who will sacrifice her pride, rather than sacrifice an honest -man who loves her--is the most priceless of all treasures. -When such a woman marries, if her husband only wins her esteem -and regard, he wins enough to ennoble his whole life. -You have spoken, dearest, of your place in my estimation. -Judge what that place is--when I implore you on my knees, -to let the cure of your poor wounded heart be my care. -Rachel! will you honour me, will you bless me, by being -my wife?" - -By this time I should certainly have decided on stopping my ears, -if Rachel had not encouraged me to keep them open, by answering him -in the first sensible words I had ever heard fall from her lips. - -"Godfrey!" she said, "you must be mad!" - -"I never spoke more reasonably, dearest--in your interests, -as well as in mine. Look for a moment to the future. Is your -happiness to be sacrificed to a man who has never known how you -feel towards him, and whom you are resolved never to see again? -Is it not your duty to yourself to forget this ill-fated attachment? -and is forgetfulness to be found in the life you are leading now? -You have tried that life, and you are wearying of it already. -Surround yourself with nobler interests than the wretched interests -of the world. A heart that loves and honours you; a home whose -peaceful claims and happy duties win gently on you day by day-- -try the consolation, Rachel, which is to be found THERE! -I don't ask for your love--I will be content with your affection -and regard. Let the rest be left, confidently left, to your -husband's devotion, and to Time that heals even wounds as deep -as yours." - -She began to yield already. Oh, what a bringing-up she must have had! -Oh, how differently I should have acted in her place! - -"Don't tempt me, Godfrey," she said; "I am wretched enough and reckless enough -as it is. Don't tempt me to be more wretched and more wreckless still!" - -"One question, Rachel. Have you any personal objection to me?" - -"I! I always liked you. After what you have just said to me, -I should be insensible indeed if I didn't respect and admire you -as well." - -"Do you know many wives, my dear Rachel, who respect and admire -their husbands? And yet they and their husbands get on very well. -How many brides go to the altar with hearts that would bear inspection -by the men who take them there? And yet it doesn't end unhappily-- -somehow or other the nuptial establishment jogs on. The truth is, -that women try marriage as a Refuge, far more numerously than they -are willing to admit; and, what is more, they find that marriage has -justified their confidence in it. Look at your own case once again. -At your age, and with your attractions, is it possible for you to -sentence yourself to a single life? Trust my knowledge of the world-- -nothing is less possible. It is merely a question of time. -You may marry some other man, some years hence. Or you may marry -the man, dearest, who is now at your feet, and who prizes your respect -and admiration above the love of any other woman on the face of -the earth." - -"Gently, Godfrey! you are putting something into my head -which I never thought of before. You are tempting me with a -new prospect, when all my other prospects are closed before me. -I tell you again, I am miserable enough and desperate enough, -if you say another word, to marry you on your own terms. -Take the warning, and go!" - -"I won't even rise from my knees, till you have said yes!" - -"If I say yes you will repent, and I shall repent, when it is too late!" - -"We shall both bless the day, darling, when I pressed, and when you yielded." - -"Do you feel as confidently as you speak?" - -"You shall judge for yourself. I speak from what I have seen in my -own family. Tell me what you think of our household at Frizinghall. -Do my father and mother live unhappily together?" - -"Far from it--so far as I can see." - -"When my mother was a girl, Rachel (it is no secret in the family), she had -loved as you love--she had given her heart to a man who was unworthy of her. -She married my father, respecting him, admiring him, but nothing more. -Your own eyes have seen the result. Is there no encouragement in it for you -and for me?" * - - -* See Betteredge's Narrative, chapter viii. - - -"You won't hurry me, Godfrey?" - -"My time shall be yours." - -"You won't ask me for more than I can give?" - -"My angel! I only ask you to give me yourself." - -"Take me!" - -In those two words she accepted him! - -He had another burst--a burst of unholy rapture this time. -He drew her nearer and nearer to him till her face touched his; -and then--No! I really cannot prevail upon myself to carry this -shocking disclosure any farther. Let me only say, that I tried to close -my eyes before it happened, and that I was just one moment too late. -I had calculated, you see, on her resisting. She submitted. -To every right-feeling person of my own sex, volumes could say -no more. - -Even my innocence in such matters began to see its way to the end -of the interview now. They understood each other so thoroughly -by this time, that I fully expected to see them walk off together, -arm in arm, to be married. There appeared, however, judging by -Mr. Godfrey's next words, to be one more trifling formality which it -was necessary to observe. He seated himself--unforbidden this time-- -on the ottoman by her side. "Shall I speak to your dear mother?" -he asked. "Or will you?" - -She declined both alternatives. - -"Let my mother hear nothing from either of us, until she is better. -I wish it to be kept a secret for the present, Godfrey. Go now, -and come back this evening. We have been here alone together quite -long enough." - -She rose, and in rising, looked for the first time towards the little -room in which my martyrdom was going on. - -"Who has drawn those curtains?" she exclaimed. - -"The room is close enough, as it is, without keeping the air out of it -in that way." - -She advanced to the curtains. At the moment when she laid her hand on them-- -at the moment when the discovery of me appeared to be quite inevitable-- -the voice of the fresh-coloured young footman, on the stairs, -suddenly suspended any further proceedings on her side or on mine. -It was unmistakably the voice of a man in great alarm. - -"Miss Rachel!" he called out, "where are you, Miss Rachel?" - -She sprang back from the curtains, and ran to the door. - -The footman came just inside the room. His ruddy colour was all gone. -He said, "Please to come down-stairs, Miss! My lady has fainted, and we -can't bring her to again." - -In a moment more I was alone, and free to go down-stairs in my turn, -quite unobserved. - -Mr. Godfrey passed me in the hall, hurrying out, to fetch the doctor. -"Go in, and help them!" he said, pointing to the room. I found Rachel -on her knees by the sofa, with her mother's head on her bosom. -One look at my aunt's face (knowing what I knew) was enough to warn me of -the dreadful truth. I kept my thoughts to myself till the doctor came in. -It was not long before he arrived. He began by sending Rachel out of -the room--and then he told the rest of us that Lady Verinder was no more. -Serious persons, in search of proofs of hardened scepticism, may be -interested in hearing that he showed no signs of remorse when he looked -at Me. - -At a later hour I peeped into the breakfast-room, and the library. -My aunt had died without opening one of the letters which I had addressed -to her. I was so shocked at this, that it never occurred to me, -until some days afterwards, that she had also died without giving me my -little legacy. - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -(1.) "Miss Clack presents her compliments to Mr. Franklin Blake; -and, in sending him the fifth chapter of her humble narrative, -begs to say that she feels quite unequal to enlarge as she -could wish on an event so awful, under the circumstances, -as Lady Verinder's death. She has, therefore, attached to her -own manuscripts, copious Extracts from precious publications -in her possession, all bearing on this terrible subject. -And may those Extracts (Miss Clack fervently hopes) sound as -the blast of a trumpet in the ears of her respected kinsman, -Mr. Franklin Blake." - -(2.) "Mr. Franklin Blake presents his compliments to Miss Clack, -and begs to thank her for the fifth chapter of her narrative. -In returning the extracts sent with it, he will refrain from -mentioning any personal objection which he may entertain to this -species of literature, and will merely say that the proposed -additions to the manuscript are not necessary to the fulfilment -of the purpose that he has in view." - -(3.) "Miss Clack begs to acknowledge the return of her Extracts. -She affectionately reminds Mr. Franklin Blake that she is a Christian, -and that it is, therefore, quite impossible for him to offend her. -Miss C. persists in feeling the deepest interest in Mr. Blake, -and pledges herself, on the first occasion when sickness may lay -him low, to offer him the use of her Extracts for the second time. -In the meanwhile she would be glad to know, before beginning -the final chapters of her narrative, whether she may be permitted -to make her humble contribution complete, by availing herself -of the light which later discoveries have thrown on the mystery of -the Moonstone." - -(4.) "Mr. Franklin Blake is sorry to disappoint Miss Clack. -He can only repeat the instructions which he had the honour -of giving her when she began her narrative. She is requested -to limit herself to her own individual experience of persons -and events, as recorded in her diary. Later discoveries she -will be good enough to leave to the pens of those persons -who can write in the capacity of actual witnesses." - -(5.) "Miss Clack is extremely sorry to trouble Mr. Franklin Blake with -another letter. Her Extracts have been returned, and the expression -of her matured views on the subject of the Moonstone has been forbidden. -Miss Clack is painfully conscious that she ought (in the worldly phrase) -to feel herself put down. But, no--Miss C. has learnt Perseverance -in the School of Adversity. Her object in writing is to know whether -Mr. Blake (who prohibits everything else) prohibits the appearance of -the present correspondence in Miss Clack's narrative? Some explanation -of the position in which Mr. Blake's interference has placed her as -an authoress, seems due on the ground of common justice. And Miss Clack, -on her side, is most anxious that her letters should be produced to speak -for themselves." - -(6.) "Mr. Franklin Blake agrees to Miss Clack's proposal, -on the understanding that she will kindly consider this intimation -of his consent as closing the correspondence between them." - -(7.) "Miss Clack feels it an act of Christian duty -(before the correspondence closes) to inform Mr. Franklin -Blake that his last letter--evidently intended to offend her-- -has not succeeded in accomplishing the object of the writer. -She affectionately requests Mr. Blake to retire to the privacy -of his own room, and to consider with himself whether the training -which can thus elevate a poor weak woman above the reach of insult, -be not worthy of greater admiration than he is now disposed to feel -for it. On being favoured with an intimation to that effect, -Miss C. solemnly pledges herself to send back the complete -series of her Extracts to Mr. Franklin Blake." - -[To this letter no answer was received. Comment is needless. - -(Signed) DRUSILLA CLACK.] - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -The foregoing correspondence will sufficiently explain why no choice is left -to me but to pass over Lady Verinder's death with the simple announcement -of the fact which ends my fifth chapter. - -Keeping myself for the future strictly within the limits of my own -personal experience, I have next to relate that a month elapsed from -the time of my aunt's decease before Rachel Verinder and I met again. -That meeting was the occasion of my spending a few days under the same -roof with her. In the course of my visit, something happened, -relative to her marriage-engagement with Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, -which is important enough to require special notice in these pages. -When this last of many painful family circumstances has been disclosed, -my task will be completed; for I shall then have told all that I know, -as an actual (and most unwilling) witness of events. - -My aunt's remains were removed from London, and were buried -in the little cemetery attached to the church in her own park. -I was invited to the funeral with the rest of the family. -But it was impossible (with my religious views) to rouse myself -in a few days only from the shock which this death had caused me. -I was informed, moreover, that the rector of Frizinghall -was to read the service. Having myself in past times seen -this clerical castaway making one of the players at Lady -Verinder's whist-table, I doubt, even if I had been fit -to travel, whether I should have felt justified in attending -the ceremony. - -Lady Verinder's death left her daughter under the care of her -brother-in-law, Mr. Ablewhite the elder. He was appointed -guardian by the will, until his niece married, or came of age. -Under these circumstances, Mr. Godfrey informed his father, -I suppose, of the new relation in which he stood towards Rachel. -At any rate, in ten days from my aunt's death, the secret of -the marriage-engagement was no secret at all within the circle -of the family, and the grand question for Mr. Ablewhite senior-- -another confirmed castaway!--was how to make himself and his authority -most agreeable to the wealthy young lady who was going to marry -his son. - -Rachel gave him some trouble at the outset, about the choice -of a place in which she could be prevailed upon to reside. -The house in Montagu Square was associated with the calamity -of her mother's death. The house in Yorkshire was associated with -the scandalous affair of the lost Moonstone. Her guardian's own -residence at Frizinghall was open to neither of these objections. -But Rachel's presence in it, after her recent bereavement, -operated as a check on the gaieties of her cousins, -the Miss Ablewhites--and she herself requested that her -visit might be deferred to a more favourable opportunity. -It ended in a proposal, emanating from old Mr. Ablewhite, to try -a furnished house at Brighton. His wife, an invalid daughter, -and Rachel were to inhabit it together, and were to expect him -to join them later in the season. They would see no society -but a few old friends, and they would have his son Godfrey, -travelling backwards and forwards by the London train, always at -their disposal. - -I describe this aimless flitting about from one place of residence -to another--this insatiate restlessness of body and appalling -stagnation of soul--merely with the view to arriving at results. -The event which (under Providence) proved to be the means of bringing -Rachel Verinder and myself together again, was no other than the hiring -of the house at Brighton. - -My Aunt Ablewhite is a large, silent, fair-complexioned woman, -with one noteworthy point in her character. From the hour of -her birth she has never been known to do anything for herself. -She has gone through life, accepting everybody's help, and adopting -everybody's opinions. A more hopeless person, in a spiritual -point of view, I have never met with--there is absolutely, in this -perplexing case, no obstructive material to work upon. Aunt Ablewhite -would listen to the Grand Lama of Thibet exactly as she listens to Me, -and would reflect his views quite as readily as she reflects mine. -She found the furnished house at Brighton by stopping at an hotel -in London, composing herself on a sofa, and sending for her son. -She discovered the necessary servants by breakfasting in bed one morning -(still at the hotel), and giving her maid a holiday on condition -that the girl "would begin enjoying herself by fetching Miss Clack." -I found her placidly fanning herself in her dressing-gown at eleven -o'clock. "Drusilla, dear, I want some servants. You are so clever-- -please get them for me." I looked round the untidy room. -The church-bells were going for a week-day service; they suggested -a word of affectionate remonstrance on my part. "Oh, aunt!" -I said sadly. "Is THIS worthy of a Christian Englishwoman? -Is the passage from time to eternity to be made in THIS manner?" -My aunt answered, "I'll put on my gown, Drusilla, if you will -be kind enough to help me." What was to be said after that? -I have done wonders with murderesses--I have never advanced an inch -with Aunt Ablewhite. "Where is the list," I asked, "of the servants -whom you require?" My aunt shook her head; she hadn't even energy -enough to keep the list. "Rachel has got it, dear," she said, -"in the next room." I went into the next room, and so saw -Rachel again for the first time since we had parted in Montagu -Square. - -She looked pitiably small and thin in her deep mourning. -If I attached any serious importance to such a perishable -trifle as personal appearance, I might be inclined to add -that hers was one of those unfortunate complexions which always -suffer when not relieved by a border of white next the skin. -But what are our complexions and our looks? Hindrances and pitfalls, -dear girls, which beset us on our way to higher things! -Greatly to my surprise, Rachel rose when I entered the room, and came -forward to meet me with outstretched hand. - -"I am glad to see you," she said. "Drusilla, I have been in the habit -of speaking very foolishly and very rudely to you, on former occasions. -I beg your pardon. I hope you will forgive me." - -My face, I suppose, betrayed the astonishment I felt at this. -She coloured up for a moment, and then proceeded to explain herself. - -"In my poor mother's lifetime," she went on, "her friends -were not always my friends, too. Now I have lost her, my heart -turns for comfort to the people she liked. She liked you. -Try to be friends with me, Drusilla, if you can." - -To any rightly-constituted mind, the motive thus acknowledged was -simply shocking. Here in Christian England was a young woman in a state -of bereavement, with so little idea of where to look for true comfort, -that she actually expected to find it among her mother's friends! -Here was a relative of mine, awakened to a sense of her shortcomings -towards others, under the influence, not of conviction and duty, but of -sentiment and impulse! Most deplorable to think of--but, still, suggestive of -something hopeful, to a person of my experience in plying the good work. -There could be no harm, I thought, in ascertaining the extent of the change -which the loss of her mother had wrought in Rachel's character. I decided, -as a useful test, to probe her on the subject of her marriage-engagement -to Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. - -Having first met her advances with all possible cordiality, -I sat by her on the sofa, at her own request. We discussed -family affairs and future plans--always excepting that one future -plan which was to end in her marriage. Try as I might to turn -the conversation that way, she resolutely declined to take the hint. -Any open reference to the question, on my part, would have been -premature at this early stage of our reconciliation. Besides, I had -discovered all I wanted to know. She was no longer the reckless, -defiant creature whom I had heard and seen, on the occasion -of my martyrdom in Montagu Square. This was, of itself, -enough to encourage me to take her future conversion in hand-- -beginning with a few words of earnest warning directed against the hasty -formation of the marriage tie, and so getting on to higher things. -Looking at her, now, with this new interest--and calling to mind -the headlong suddenness with which she had met Mr. Godfrey's -matrimonial views--I felt the solemn duty of interfering with a -fervour which assured me that I should achieve no common results. -Rapidity of proceeding was, as I believed, of importance in this case. -I went back at once to the question of the servants wanted for the -furnished house. - -"Where is the list, dear?" - -Rachel produced it. - -"Cook, kitchen-maid, housemaid, and footman," I read. -My dear Rachel, these servants are only wanted for a term-- -the term during which your guardian has taken the house. -We shall have great difficulty in finding persons of character -and capacity to accept a temporary engagement of that sort, -if we try in London. Has the house in Brighton been -found yet?" - -"Yes. Godfrey has taken it; and persons in the house wanted him -to hire them as servants. He thought they would hardly do for us, -and came back having settled nothing." - -"And you have no experience yourself in these matters, Rachel?" - -"None whatever." - -"And Aunt Ablewhite won't exert herself?" - -"No, poor dear. Don't blame her, Drusilla. I think she is the only really -happy woman I have ever met with." - -"There are degrees in happiness, darling. We must have a little talk, -some day, on that subject. In the meantime I will undertake to meet -the difficulty about the servants. Your aunt will write a letter -to the people of the house----" - -"She will sign a letter, if I write it for her, which comes -to the same thing." - -"Quite the same thing. I shall get the letter, and I will go -to Brighton to-morrow." - -"How extremely kind of you! We will join you as soon as you -are ready for us. And you will stay, I hope, as my guest. -Brighton is so lively; you are sure to enjoy it." - -In those words the invitation was given, and the glorious prospect -of interference was opened before me. - -It was then the middle of the week. By Saturday afternoon -the house was ready for them. In that short interval I had sifted, -not the characters only, but the religious views as well, -of all the disengaged servants who applied to me, and had -succeeded in making a selection which my conscience approved. -I also discovered, and called on two serious friends of mine, -residents in the town, to whom I knew I could confide the pious -object which had brought me to Brighton. One of them-- -a clerical friend--kindly helped me to take sittings for our -little party in the church in which he himself ministered. -The other--a single lady, like myself--placed the resources -of her library (composed throughout of precious publications) -entirely at my disposal. I borrowed half-a-dozen works, -all carefully chosen with a view to Rachel. When these had been -judiciously distributed in the various rooms she would be likely -to occupy, I considered that my preparations were complete. -Sound doctrine in the servants who waited on her; -sound doctrine in the minister who preached to her; sound doctrine -in the books that lay on her table--such was the treble -welcome which my zeal had prepared for the motherless girl! -A heavenly composure filled my mind, on that Saturday afternoon, -as I sat at the window waiting the arrival of my relatives. -The giddy throng passed and repassed before my eyes. -Alas! how many of them felt my exquisite sense of duty done? -An awful question. Let us not pursue it. - -Between six and seven the travellers arrived. To my indescribable surprise, -they were escorted, not by Mr. Godfrey (as I had anticipated), but by -the lawyer, Mr. Bruff. - -"How do you do, Miss Clack?" he said. "I mean to stay this time." - -That reference to the occasion on which I had obliged him -to postpone his business to mine, when we were both visiting -in Montagu Square, satisfied me that the old worldling -had come to Brighton with some object of his own in view. -I had prepared quite a little Paradise for my beloved Rachel-- -and here was the Serpent already! - -"Godfrey was very much vexed, Drusilla, not to be able to come with us," -said my Aunt Ablewhite. "There was something in the way which kept him -in town. Mr. Bruff volunteered to take his place, and make a holiday of it -till Monday morning. By-the-by, Mr. Bruff, I'm ordered to take exercise, -and I don't like it. That," added Aunt Ablewhite, pointing out of -window to an invalid going by in a chair on wheels, drawn by a man, -"is my idea of exercise. If it's air you want, you get it in your chair. -And if it's fatigue you want, I am sure it's fatigue enough to look at -the man." - -Rachel stood silent, at a window by herself, with her eyes fixed on the sea. - -"Tired, love?" I inquired. - -"No. Only a little out of spirits," she answered. "I have often -seen the sea, on our Yorkshire coast, with that light on it. -And I was thinking, Drusilla, of the days that can never -come again." - -Mr. Bruff remained to dinner, and stayed through the evening. -The more I saw of him, the more certain I felt that he had some -private end to serve in coming to Brighton. I watched him carefully. -He maintained the same appearance of ease, and talked the same -godless gossip, hour after hour, until it was time to take leave. -As he shook hands with Rachel, I caught his hard and cunning eyes -resting on her for a moment with a peculiar interest and attention. -She was plainly concerned in the object that he had in view. -He said nothing out of the common to her or to anyone on leaving. -He invited himself to luncheon the next day, and then he went away to -his hotel. - -It was impossible the next morning to get my Aunt Ablewhite out -of her dressing-gown in time for church. Her invalid daughter -(suffering from nothing, in my opinion, but incurable laziness, -inherited from her mother) announced that she meant to remain -in bed for the day. Rachel and I went alone together to church. -A magnificent sermon was preached by my gifted friend on the heathen -indifference of the world to the sinfulness of little sins. -For more than an hour his eloquence (assisted by his glorious voice) -thundered through the sacred edifice. I said to Rachel, when we came out, -"Has it found its way to your heart, dear?" And she answered, -"No; it has only made my head ache." This might have been discouraging -to some people; but, once embarked on a career of manifest usefulness, -nothing discourages Me. - -We found Aunt Ablewhite and Mr. Bruff at luncheon. When Rachel -declined eating anything, and gave as a reason for it that she -was suffering from a headache, the lawyer's cunning instantly saw, -and seized, the chance that she had given him. - -"There is only one remedy for a headache," said this horrible old man. -"A walk, Miss Rachel, is the thing to cure you. I am entirely at -your service, if you will honour me by accepting my arm." - -"With the greatest pleasure. A walk is the very thing I was longing for." - -"It's past two," I gently suggested. "And the afternoon service, -Rachel, begins at three." - -"How can you expect me to go to church again," she asked, petulantly, -"with such a headache as mine?" - -Mr. Bruff officiously opened the door for her. In another minute -more they were both out of the house. I don't know when I have felt -the solemn duty of interfering so strongly as I felt it at that moment. -But what was to be done? Nothing was to be done but to interfere at -the first opportunity, later in the day. - -On my return from the afternoon service I found that they had just got back. -One look at them told me that the lawyer had said what he wanted to say. -I had never before seen Rachel so silent and so thoughtful. -I had never before seen Mr. Bruff pay her such devoted attention, -and look at her with such marked respect. He had (or pretended that he had) -an engagement to dinner that day--and he took an early leave of us all; -intending to go back to London by the first train the next morning. - -"Are you sure of your own resolution?" he said to Rachel at the door. - -"Quite sure," she answered--and so they parted. - -The moment his back was turned, Rachel withdrew to her own room. -She never appeared at dinner. Her maid (the person with the cap-ribbons) -was sent down-stairs to announce that her headache had returned. -I ran up to her and made all sorts of sisterly offers through the door. -It was locked, and she kept it locked. Plenty of obstructive material -to work on here! I felt greatly cheered and stimulated by her locking -the door. - -When her cup of tea went up to her the next morning, I followed -it in. I sat by her bedside and said a few earnest words. -She listened with languid civility. I noticed my serious friend's -precious publications huddled together on a table in a corner. -Had she chanced to look into them?--I asked. Yes--and they -had not interested her. Would she allow me to read a few -passages of the deepest interest, which had probably escaped -her eye? No, not now--she had other things to think of. -She gave these answers, with her attention apparently absorbed -in folding and refolding the frilling on her nightgown. It was -plainly necessary to rouse her by some reference to those worldly -interests which she still had at heart. - -"Do you know, love," I said, "I had an odd fancy, yesterday, about Mr. Bruff? -I thought, when I saw you after your walk with him, that he had been telling -you some bad news." - -Her fingers dropped from the frilling of her nightgown, -and her fierce black eyes flashed at me. - -"Quite the contrary!" she said. "It was news I was interested in hearing-- -and I am deeply indebted to Mr. Bruff for telling me of it." - -"Yes?" I said, in a tone of gentle interest. - -Her fingers went back to the frilling, and she turned her -head sullenly away from me. I had been met in this manner, -in the course of plying the good work, hundreds of times. -She merely stimulated me to try again. In my dauntless zeal -for her welfare, I ran the great risk, and openly alluded to her -marriage engagement. - -"News you were interested in hearing?" I repeated. "I suppose, -my dear Rachel, that must be news of Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite?" - -She started up in the bed, and turned deadly pale. It was evidently -on the tip of her tongue to retort on me with the unbridled insolence -of former times. She checked herself--laid her head back on the pillow-- -considered a minute--and then answered in these remarkable words: - -"I SHALL NEVER MARRY MR. GODFREY ABLEWHITE." - -It was my turn to start at that. - -"What can you possibly mean?" I exclaimed. "The marriage -is considered by the whole family as a settled thing!" - -"Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite is expected here to-day," she said doggedly. -"Wait till he comes--and you will see." - -"But my dear Rachel----" - -She rang the bell at the head of her bed. The person -with the cap-ribbons appeared. - -"Penelope! my bath." - -Let me give her her due. In the state of my feelings at that moment, -I do sincerely believe that she had hit on the only possible way -of forcing me to leave the room. - -By the mere worldly mind my position towards Rachel might have -been viewed as presenting difficulties of no ordinary kind. -I had reckoned on leading her to higher things by means of a -little earnest exhortation on the subject of her marriage. -And now, if she was to be believed, no such event as her marriage -was to take place at all. But ah, my friends! a working Christian -of my experience (with an evangelising prospect before her) -takes broader views than these. Supposing Rachel really broke -off the marriage, on which the Ablewhites, father and son, -counted as a settled thing, what would be the result? -It could only end, if she held firm, in an exchanging of hard -words and bitter accusations on both sides. And what would -be the effect on Rachel when the stormy interview was over? -A salutary moral depression would be the effect. Her pride -would be exhausted, her stubbornness would be exhausted, -by the resolute resistance which it was in her character -to make under the circumstances. She would turn for -sympathy to the nearest person who had sympathy to offer. -And I was that nearest person--brimful of comfort, charged to -overflowing with seasonable and reviving words. Never had -the evangelising prospect looked brighter, to my eyes, than it -looked now. - -She came down to breakfast, but she ate nothing, and hardly uttered a word. - -After breakfast she wandered listlessly from room to room-- -then suddenly roused herself, and opened the piano. -The music she selected to play was of the most scandalously -profane sort, associated with performances on the stage -which it curdles one's blood to think of. It would have been -premature to interfere with her at such a time as this. -I privately ascertained the hour at which Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite -was expected, and then I escaped the music by leaving -the house. - -Being out alone, I took the opportunity of calling upon my -two resident friends. It was an indescribable luxury to find -myself indulging in earnest conversation with serious persons. -Infinitely encouraged and refreshed, I turned my steps back -again to the house, in excellent time to await the arrival -of our expected visitor. I entered the dining-room, always -empty at that hour of the day, and found myself face to face -with Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite! - -He made no attempt to fly the place. Quite the contrary. -He advanced to meet me with the utmost eagerness. - -"Dear Miss Clack, I have been only waiting to see you! -Chance set me free of my London engagements to-day sooner -than I had expected, and I have got here, in consequence, -earlier than my appointed time." - -Not the slightest embarrassment encumbered his explanation, though this -was his first meeting with me after the scene in Montagu Square. -He was not aware, it is true, of my having been a witness of that scene. -But he knew, on the other hand, that my attendances at the Mothers' -Small-Clothes, and my relations with friends attached to other charities, -must have informed me of his shameless neglect of his Ladies and of his Poor. -And yet there he was before me, in full possession of his charming voice and -his irresistible smile! - -"Have you seen Rachel yet?" I asked. - -He sighed gently, and took me by the hand. I should certainly have snatched -my hand away, if the manner in which he gave his answer had not paralysed me -with astonishment. - -"I have seen Rachel," he said with perfect tranquillity. -"You are aware, dear friend, that she was engaged to me? -Well, she has taken a sudden resolution to break the engagement. -Reflection has convinced her that she will best consult her -welfare and mine by retracting a rash promise, and leaving me -free to make some happier choice elsewhere. That is the only -reason she will give, and the only answer she will make to every -question that I can ask of her." - -"What have you done on your side?" I inquired. "Have you submitted." - -"Yes," he said with the most unruffled composure, "I have submitted." - -His conduct, under the circumstances, was so utterly inconceivable, -that I stood bewildered with my hand in his. It is a piece of rudeness -to stare at anybody, and it is an act of indelicacy to stare at a gentleman. -I committed both those improprieties. And I said, as if in a dream, -"What does it mean?" - -"Permit me to tell you," he replied. "And suppose we sit down?" - -He led me to a chair. I have an indistinct remembrance that he was -very affectionate. I don't think he put his arm round my waist -to support me--but I am not sure. I was quite helpless, and his -ways with ladies were very endearing. At any rate, we sat down. -I can answer for that, if I can answer for nothing more. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -"I have lost a beautiful girl, an excellent social position, -and a handsome income," Mr. Godfrey began; "and I have -submitted to it without a struggle. What can be the motive -for such extraordinary conduct as that? My precious friend, -there is no motive." - -"No motive?" I repeated. - -"Let me appeal, my dear Miss Clack, to your experience of children," -he went on. "A child pursues a certain course of conduct. -You are greatly struck by it, and you attempt to get at the motive. -The dear little thing is incapable of telling you its motive. -You might as well ask the grass why it grows, or the birds -why they sing. Well! in this matter, I am like the dear -little thing--like the grass--like the birds. I don't -know why I made a proposal of marriage to Miss Verinder. -I don't know why I have shamefully neglected my dear Ladies. -I don't know why I have apostatised from the Mothers' -Small-Clothes. You say to the child, Why have you been naughty? -And the little angel puts its finger into its mouth, -and doesn't know. My case exactly, Miss Clack! I couldn't -confess it to anybody else. I feel impelled to confess it to -YOU!" - -I began to recover myself. A mental problem was involved here. -I am deeply interested in mental problems--and I am not, -it is thought, without some skill in solving them. - -"Best of friends, exert your intellect, and help me," he proceeded. -"Tell me--why does a time come when these matrimonial proceedings -of mine begin to look like something done in a dream? -Why does it suddenly occur to me that my true happiness is in -helping my dear Ladies, in going my modest round of useful work, -in saying my few earnest words when called on by my Chairman? -What do I want with a position? I have got a position? -What do I want with an income? I can pay for my bread and cheese, -and my nice little lodging, and my two coats a year. -What do I want with Miss Verinder? She has told me with her -own lips (this, dear lady, is between ourselves) that she -loves another man, and that her only idea in marrying me is -to try and put that other man out of her head. What a horrid -union is this! Oh, dear me, what a horrid union is this! -Such are my reflections, Miss Clack, on my way to Brighton. -I approach Rachel with the feeling of a criminal who is going to -receive his sentence. When I find that she has changed her mind too-- -when I hear her propose to break the engagement--I experience -(there is no sort of doubt about it) a most overpowering -sense of relief. A month ago I was pressing her rapturously -to my bosom. An hour ago, the happiness of knowing that I shall -never press her again, intoxicates me like strong liquor. -The thing seems impossible--the thing can't be. -And yet there are the facts, as I had the honour of stating -them when we first sat down together in these two chairs. -I have lost a beautiful girl, an excellent social position, -and a handsome income; and I have submitted to it without a struggle. -Can you account for it, dear friend? It's quite beyond -ME." - -His magnificent head sank on his breast, and he gave up his own mental -problem in despair. - -I was deeply touched. The case (if I may speak as a spiritual physician) -was now quite plain to me. It is no uncommon event, in the experience -of us all, to see the possessors of exalted ability occasionally humbled -to the level of the most poorly-gifted people about them. The object, -no doubt, in the wise economy of Providence, is to remind greatness that it -is mortal and that the power which has conferred it can also take it away. -It was now--to my mind--easy to discern one of these salutary humiliations -in the deplorable proceedings on dear Mr. Godfrey's part, of which I had -been the unseen witness. And it was equally easy to recognise the welcome -reappearance of his own finer nature in the horror with which he recoiled -from the idea of a marriage with Rachel, and in the charming eagerness which -he showed to return to his Ladies and his Poor. - -I put this view before him in a few simple and sisterly words. -His joy was beautiful to see. He compared himself, as I went on, -to a lost man emerging from the darkness into the light. -When I answered for a loving reception of him at the Mothers' -Small-Clothes, the grateful heart of our Christian Hero overflowed. -He pressed my hands alternately to his lips. Overwhelmed by -the exquisite triumph of having got him back among us, I let him -do what he liked with my hands. I closed my eyes. I felt my head, -in an ecstasy of spiritual self-forgetfulness, sinking on his shoulder. -In a moment more I should certainly have swooned away in his arms, -but for an interruption from the outer world, which brought me -to myself again. A horrid rattling of knives and forks sounded -outside the door, and the footman came in to lay the table -for luncheon. - -Mr. Godfrey started up, and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. - -"How time flies with YOU!" he exclaimed. "I shall barely catch the train." - -I ventured on asking why he was in such a hurry to get back to town. -His answer reminded me of family difficulties that were still -to be reconciled, and of family disagreements that were yet -to come. - -"I have heard from my father," he said. "Business obliges -him to leave Frizinghall for London to-day, and he proposes -coming on here, either this evening or to-morrow. I must tell -him what has happened between Rachel and me. His heart is -set on our marriage--there will be great difficulty, I fear, -in reconciling him to the breaking-off of the engagement. -I must stop him, for all our sakes, from coming here till -he IS reconciled. Best and dearest of friends, we shall -meet again!" - -With those words he hurried out. In equal haste on my side, -I ran upstairs to compose myself in my own room before meeting -Aunt Ablewhite and Rachel at the luncheon-table. - -I am well aware--to dwell for a moment yet on the subject of Mr. Godfrey-- -that the all-profaning opinion of the world has charged him with having -his own private reasons for releasing Rachel from her engagement, -at the first opportunity she gave him. It has also reached my ears, -that his anxiety to recover his place in my estimation has been attributed -in certain quarters, to a mercenary eagerness to make his peace (through me) -with a venerable committee-woman at the Mothers' Small-Clothes, abundantly -blessed with the goods of this world, and a beloved and intimate -friend of my own. I only notice these odious slanders for the sake -of declaring that they never had a moment's influence on my mind. -In obedience to my instructions, I have exhibited the fluctuations in my -opinion of our Christian Hero, exactly as I find them recorded in my diary. -In justice to myself, let me here add that, once reinstated in his -place in my estimation, my gifted friend never lost that place again. -I write with the tears in my eyes, burning to say more. But no-- -I am cruelly limited to my actual experience of persons and things. -In less than a month from the time of which I am now writing, events in -the money-market (which diminished even my miserable little income) forced me -into foreign exile, and left me with nothing but a loving remembrance -of Mr. Godfrey which the slander of the world has assailed, and assailed -in vain. - -Let me dry my eyes, and return to my narrative. - -I went downstairs to luncheon, naturally anxious to see how Rachel -was affected by her release from her marriage engagement. - -It appeared to me--but I own I am a poor authority in such matters-- -that the recovery of her freedom had set her thinking again of that other -man whom she loved, and that she was furious with herself for not being -able to control a revulsion of feeling of which she was secretly ashamed. -Who was the man? I had my suspicions--but it was needless to waste time -in idle speculation. When I had converted her, she would, as a matter -of course, have no concealments from Me. I should hear all about the man; -I should hear all about the Moonstone. If I had had no higher object in -stirring her up to a sense of spiritual things, the motive of relieving her -mind of its guilty secrets would have been enough of itself to encourage me -to go on. - -Aunt Ablewhite took her exercise in the afternoon in an invalid chair. -Rachel accompanied her. "I wish I could drag the chair," -she broke out, recklessly. "I wish I could fatigue myself till I was -ready to drop." - -She was in the same humour in the evening. I discovered in one -of my friend's precious publications--the Life, Letters, and Labours -of Miss Jane Ann Stamper, forty-fourth edition--passages which bore -with a marvellous appropriateness on Rachel's present position. -Upon my proposing to read them, she went to the piano. -Conceive how little she must have known of serious people, -if she supposed that my patience was to be exhausted in that way! -I kept Miss Jane Ann Stamper by me, and waited for events with the most -unfaltering trust in the future. - -Old Mr. Ablewhite never made his appearance that night. -But I knew the importance which his worldly greed attached to his -son's marriage with Miss Verinder--and I felt a positive conviction -(do what Mr. Godfrey might to prevent it) that we should see -him the next day. With his interference in the matter, -the storm on which I had counted would certainly come, -and the salutary exhaustion of Rachel's resisting powers would -as certainly follow. I am not ignorant that old Mr. Ablewhite -has the reputation generally (especially among his inferiors) -of being a remarkably good-natured man. According to my observation -of him, he deserves his reputation as long as he has his own way, -and not a moment longer. - -The next day, exactly as I had foreseen, Aunt Ablewhite -was as near to being astonished as her nature would permit, -by the sudden appearance of her husband. He had barely been -a minute in the house, before he was followed, to MY astonishment -this time, by an unexpected complication in the shape of Mr. Bruff. - -I never remember feeling the presence of the lawyer to be -more unwelcome than I felt it at that moment. He looked -ready for anything in the way of an obstructive proceeding-- -capable even of keeping the peace with Rachel for one of -the combatants! - -"This is a pleasant surprise, sir," said Mr. Ablewhite, -addressing himself with his deceptive cordiality to Mr. Bruff. -"When I left your office yesterday, I didn't expect to have -the honour of seeing you at Brighton to-day." - -"I turned over our conversation in my mind, after you had gone," -replied Mr. Bruff. "And it occurred to me that I might perhaps be -of some use on this occasion. I was just in time to catch the train, -and I had no opportunity of discovering the carriage in which you -were travelling." - -Having given that explanation, he seated himself by Rachel. -I retired modestly to a corner--with Miss Jane Ann Stamper -on my lap, in case of emergency. My aunt sat at the window; -placidly fanning herself as usual. Mr. Ablewhite stood up -in the middle of the room, with his bald head much pinker than I -had ever seen it yet, and addressed himself in the most affectionate -manner to his niece. - -"Rachel, my dear," he said, "I have heard some very extraordinary -news from Godfrey. And I am here to inquire about it. -You have a sitting-room of your own in this house. Will you -honour me by showing me the way to it?" - -Rachel never moved. Whether she was determined to bring matters to a crisis, -or whether she was prompted by some private sign from Mr. Bruff, is more than -I can tell. She declined doing old Mr. Ablewhite the honour of conducting him -into her sitting-room. - -"Whatever you wish to say to me," she answered, "can be said here-- -in the presence of my relatives, and in the presence" (she looked at -Mr. Bruff) "of my mother's trusted old friend." - -"Just as you please, my dear," said the amiable Mr. Ablewhite. -He took a chair. The rest of them looked at his face-- -as if they expected it, after seventy years of worldly training, -to speak the truth. I looked at the top of his bald head; -having noticed on other occasions that the temper which was really in -him had a habit of registering itself THERE. - -"Some weeks ago," pursued the old gentleman, "my son informed me that -Miss Verinder had done him the honour to engage herself to marry him. -Is it possible, Rachel, that he can have misinterpreted--or presumed upon-- -what you really said to him?" - -"Certainly not," she replied. "I did engage myself to marry him." - -"Very frankly answered!" said Mr. Ablewhite. "And most satisfactory, -my dear, so far. In respect to what happened some weeks since, Godfrey has -made no mistake. The error is evidently in what he told me yesterday. -I begin to see it now. You and he have had a lovers' quarrel--and my foolish -son has interpreted it seriously. Ah! I should have known better than that -at his age." - -The fallen nature in Rachel--the mother Eve, so to speak-- -began to chafe at this. - -"Pray let us understand each other, Mr. Ablewhite," she said. -"Nothing in the least like a quarrel took place yesterday -between your son and me. If he told you that I proposed breaking -off our marriage engagement, and that he agreed on his side-- -he told you the truth." - -The self-registering thermometer at the top of Mr. Ablewhite's bald head -began to indicate a rise of temper. His face was more amiable than ever-- -but THERE was the pink at the top of his face, a shade deeper already! - -"Come, come, my dear!" he said, in his most soothing manner, -"now don't be angry, and don't be hard on poor Godfrey! -He has evidently said some unfortunate thing. He was always clumsy -from a child--but he means well, Rachel, he means well!" - -"Mr. Ablewhite, I have either expressed myself very badly, -or you are purposely mistaking me. Once for all, it is -a settled thing between your son and myself that we remain, -for the rest of our lives, cousins and nothing more. -Is that plain enough?" - -The tone in which she said those words made it impossible, -even for old Mr. Ablewhite, to mistake her any longer. -His thermometer went up another degree, and his voice when -he next spoke, ceased to be the voice which is appropriate to a -notoriously good-natured man. - -"I am to understand, then," he said, "that your marriage engagement -is broken off?" - -"You are to understand that, Mr. Ablewhite, if you please." - -"I am also to take it as a matter of fact that the proposal -to withdraw from the engagement came, in the first instance, -from YOU?" - -"It came, in the first instance, from me. And it met, as I have told you, -with your son's consent and approval." - -The thermometer went up to the top of the register. I mean, -the pink changed suddenly to scarlet. - -"My son is a mean-spirited hound!" cried this furious old worldling. -"In justice to myself as his father--not in justice to HIM-- -I beg to ask you, Miss Verinder, what complaint you have to make of -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite?" - -Here Mr. Bruff interfered for the first time. - -"You are not bound to answer that question," he said to Rachel. - -Old Mr. Ablewhite fastened on him instantly. - -"Don't forget, sir," he said, "that you are a self-invited guest here. -Your interference would have come with a better grace if you had waited until -it was asked for." - -Mr. Bruff took no notice. The smooth varnish on HIS wicked -old face never cracked. Rachel thanked him for the advice -he had given to her, and then turned to old Mr. Ablewhite-- -preserving her composure in a manner which (having regard to her -age and her sex) was simply awful to see. - -"Your son put the same question to me which you have just asked," she said. -"I had only one answer for him, and I have only one answer for you. -I proposed that we should release each other, because reflection had -convinced me that I should best consult his welfare and mine by retracting a -rash promise, and leaving him free to make his choice elsewhere." - -"What has my son done?" persisted Mr. Ablewhite. "I have a right -to know that. What has my son done?" - -She persisted just as obstinately on her side. - -"You have had the only explanation which I think it necessary to give to you, -or to him," she answered. - -"In plain English, it's your sovereign will and pleasure, Miss Verinder, -to jilt my son?" - -Rachel was silent for a moment. Sitting close behind her, I heard her sigh. -Mr. Bruff took her hand, and gave it a little squeeze. She recovered herself, -and answered Mr. Ablewhite as boldly as ever. - -"I have exposed myself to worse misconstruction than that," -she said. "And I have borne it patiently. The time has gone by, -when you could mortify me by calling me a jilt." - -She spoke with a bitterness of tone which satisfied me that the scandal -of the Moonstone had been in some way recalled to her mind. -"I have no more to say," she added, wearily, not addressing -the words to anyone in particular, and looking away from us all, -out of the window that was nearest to her. - -Mr. Ablewhite got upon his feet, and pushed away his chair so violently -that it toppled over and fell on the floor. - -"I have something more to say on my side," he announced, -bringing down the flat of his hand on the table with a bang. -"I have to say that if my son doesn't feel this insult, -I do!" - -Rachel started, and looked at him in sudden surprise. - -"Insult?" she repeated. "What do you mean?" - -"Insult!" reiterated Mr. Ablewhite. "I know your motive, -Miss Verinder, for breaking your promise to my son! I know -it as certainly as if you had confessed it in so many words. -Your cursed family pride is insulting Godfrey, as it insulted -ME when I married your aunt. Her family--her beggarly family-- -turned their backs on her for marrying an honest man, -who had made his own place and won his own fortune. -I had no ancestors. I wasn't descended from a set of -cut-throat scoundrels who lived by robbery and murder. -I. couldn't point to the time when the Ablewhites hadn't a shirt -to their backs, and couldn't sign their own names. Ha! ha! -I wasn't good enough for the Herncastles, when I married. -And now, it comes to the pinch, my son isn't good enough -for YOU. I suspected it, all along. You have got -the Herncastle blood in you, my young lady! I suspected it -all along." - -"A very unworthy suspicion," remarked Mr. Bruff. "I am astonished that you -have the courage to acknowledge it." - -Before Mr. Ablewhite could find words to answer in, Rachel spoke -in a tone of the most exasperating contempt. - -"Surely," she said to the lawyer, "this is beneath notice. -If he can think in THAT way, let us leave him to think as -he pleases." - -From scarlet, Mr. Ablewhite was now becoming purple. He gasped for breath; -he looked backwards and forwards from Rachel to Mr. Bruff in such a frenzy -of rage with both of them that he didn't know which to attack first. -His wife, who had sat impenetrably fanning herself up to this time, -began to be alarmed, and attempted, quite uselessly, to quiet him. -I had, throughout this distressing interview, felt more than one inward -call to interfere with a few earnest words, and had controlled myself under -a dread of the possible results, very unworthy of a Christian Englishwoman -who looks, not to what is meanly prudent, but to what is morally right. -At the point at which matters had now arrived, I rose superior to all -considerations of mere expediency. If I had contemplated interposing -any remonstrance of my own humble devising, I might possibly have -still hesitated. But the distressing domestic emergency which now -confronted me, was most marvellously and beautifully provided for in -the Correspondence of Miss Jane Ann Stamper--Letter one thousand and one, -on "Peace in Families." I rose in my modest corner, and I opened my -precious book. - -"Dear Mr. Ablewhite," I said, "one word!" - -When I first attracted the attention of the company by rising, -I could see that he was on the point of saying something rude to me. -My sisterly form of address checked him. He stared at me in -heathen astonishment. - -"As an affectionate well-wisher and friend," I proceeded, "and as one long -accustomed to arouse, convince, prepare, enlighten, and fortify others, -permit me to take the most pardonable of all liberties--the liberty -of composing your mind." - -He began to recover himself; he was on the point of breaking out-- -he WOULD have broken out, with anybody else. But my voice -(habitually gentle) possesses a high note or so, in emergencies. -In this emergency, I felt imperatively called upon to have the highest -voice of the two. - -I held up my precious book before him; I rapped the open -page impressively with my forefinger. "Not my words!" -I exclaimed, in a burst of fervent interruption. -"Oh, don't suppose that I claim attention for My humble words! -Manna in the wilderness, Mr. Ablewhite! Dew on the parched earth! -Words of comfort, words of wisdom, words of love--the blessed, -blessed, blessed words of Miss Jane Ann Stamper!" - -I was stopped there by a momentary impediment of the breath. -Before I could recover myself, this monster in human form shouted -out furiously,-- - -"Miss Jane Ann Stamper be----!" - -It is impossible for me to write the awful word, -which is here represented by a blank. I shrieked as it -passed his lips; I flew to my little bag on the side table; -I shook out all my tracts; I seized the one particular tract -on profane swearing, entitled, "Hush, for Heaven's Sake!"; -I handed it to him with an expression of agonised entreaty. -He tore it in two, and threw it back at me across the table. -The rest of them rose in alarm, not knowing what might happen next. -I instantly sat down again in my corner. There had once been -an occasion, under somewhat similar circumstances, when Miss Jane -Ann Stamper had been taken by the two shoulders and turned out -of a room. I waited, inspired by HER spirit, for a repetition of -HER martyrdom. - -But no--it was not to be. His wife was the next person whom he addressed. -"Who--who--who," he said, stammering with rage, "who asked this impudent -fanatic into the house? Did you?" - -Before Aunt Ablewhite could say a word, Rachel answered for her. - -"Miss Clack is here," she said, "as my guest." - -Those words had a singular effect on Mr. Ablewhite. They suddenly -changed him from a man in a state of red-hot anger to a man in a -state of icy-cold contempt. It was plain to everybody that Rachel -had said something--short and plain as her answer had been-- -which gave him the upper hand of her at last. - -"Oh?" he said. "Miss Clack is here as YOUR guest--in MY house?" - -It was Rachel's turn to lose her temper at that. Her colour rose, -and her eyes brightened fiercely. She turned to the lawyer, and, -pointing to Mr. Ablewhite, asked haughtily, "What does he mean?" - -Mr. Bruff interfered for the third time. - -"You appear to forget," he said, addressing Mr. Ablewhite, -"that you took this house as Miss Verinder's guardian, for Miss -Verinder's use." - -"Not quite so fast," interposed Mr. Ablewhite. "I have a last word to say, -which I should have said some time since, if this----" He looked my way, -pondering what abominable name he should call me--"if this Rampant Spinster -had not interrupted us. I beg to inform you, sir, that, if my son is not good -enough to be Miss Verinder's husband, I cannot presume to consider his father -good enough to be Miss Verinder's guardian. Understand, if you please, that I -refuse to accept the position which is offered to me by Lady Verinder's will. -In your legal phrase, I decline to act. This house has necessarily been -hired in my name. I take the entire responsibility of it on my shoulders. -It is my house. I can keep it, or let it, just as I please. I have no wish -to hurry Miss Verinder. On the contrary, I beg her to remove her guest and -her luggage, at her own entire convenience." He made a low bow, and walked -out of the room. - -That was Mr. Ablewhite's revenge on Rachel, for refusing to marry his son! - -The instant the door closed, Aunt Ablewhite exhibited a phenomenon -which silenced us all. She became endowed with energy enough -to cross the room! - -"My dear," she said, taking Rachel by the hand, "I should be ashamed -of my husband, if I didn't know that it is his temper which has spoken -to you, and not himself. You," continued Aunt Ablewhite, turning on me -in my corner with another endowment of energy, in her looks this time -instead of her limbs--"you are the mischievous person who irritated him. -I hope I shall never see you or your tracts again." She went back -to Rachel and kissed her. "I beg your pardon, my dear," she said, -"in my husband's name. What can I do for you?" - -Consistently perverse in everything--capricious and unreasonable in all -the actions of her life--Rachel melted into tears at those commonplace words, -and returned her aunt's kiss in silence. - -"If I may be permitted to answer for Miss Verinder," said Mr. Bruff, -"might I ask you, Mrs. Ablewhite, to send Penelope down with her -mistress's bonnet and shawl. Leave us ten minutes together," he added, -in a lower tone, "and you may rely on my setting matters right, -to your satisfaction as well as to Rachel's." - -The trust of the family in this man was something wonderful to see. -Without a word more, on her side, Aunt Ablewhite left the room. - -"Ah!" said Mr. Bruff, looking after her. "The Herncastle blood has -its drawbacks, I admit. But there IS something in good breeding after all!" - -Having made that purely worldly remark, he looked hard at my corner, -as if he expected me to go. My interest in Rachel--an infinitely higher -interest than his--riveted me to my chair. - -Mr. Bruff gave it up, exactly as he had given it up at Aunt Verinder's, -in Montagu Square. He led Rachel to a chair by the window, and spoke -to her there. - -"My dear young lady," he said, "Mr. Ablewhite's conduct -has naturally shocked you, and taken you by surprise. -If it was worth while to contest the question with such a man, -we might soon show him that he is not to have things all his own way. -But it isn't worth while. You were quite right in what you said -just now; he is beneath our notice." - -He stopped, and looked round at my corner. I sat there quite immovable, -with my tracts at my elbow and with Miss Jane Ann Stamper on my lap. - -"You know," he resumed, turning back again to Rachel, -"that it was part of your poor mother's fine nature always -to see the best of the people about her, and never the worst. -She named her brother-in-law your guardian because she believed -in him, and because she thought it would please her sister. -I had never liked Mr. Ablewhite myself, and I induced your mother -to let me insert a clause in the will, empowering her executors, -in certain events, to consult with me about the appointment -of a new guardian. One of those events has happened to-day; -and I find myself in a position to end all these dry -business details, I hope agreeably, with a message from my wife. -Will you honour Mrs. Bruff by becoming her guest? And will you -remain under my roof, and be one of my family, until we wise people -have laid our heads together, and have settled what is to be -done next?" - -At those words, I rose to interfere. Mr. Bruff had done exactly what I -had dreaded he would do, when he asked Mrs. Ablewhite for Rachel's -bonnet and shawl. - -Before I could interpose a word, Rachel had accepted his invitation in -the warmest terms. If I suffered the arrangement thus made between them -to be carried out--if she once passed the threshold of Mr. Bruff's door-- -farewell to the fondest hope of my life, the hope of bringing my lost -sheep back to the fold! The bare idea of such a calamity as this quite -overwhelmed me. I cast the miserable trammels of worldly discretion -to the winds, and spoke with the fervour that filled me, in the words -that came first. - -"Stop!" I said--"stop! I must be heard. Mr. Bruff! you are not related -to her, and I am. I invite her--I summon the executors to appoint -me guardian. Rachel, dearest Rachel, I offer you my modest home; -come to London by the next train, love, and share it with me!" - -Mr. Bruff said nothing. Rachel looked at me with a cruel astonishment -which she made no effort to conceal. - -"You are very kind, Drusilla," she said. "I shall hope to visit you whenever -I happen to be in London. But I have accepted Mr. Bruff's invitation, and I -think it will be best, for the present, if I remain under Mr. Bruff's care." - -"Oh, don't say so!" I pleaded. "I can't part with you, Rachel--I can't -part with you!" - -I tried to fold her in my arms. But she drew back. My fervour -did not communicate itself; it only alarmed her. - -"Surely," she said, "this is a very unnecessary display of agitation? -I don't understand it." - -"No more do I," said Mr. Bruff. - -Their hardness--their hideous, worldly hardness--revolted me. - -"Oh, Rachel! Rachel!" I burst out. "Haven't you seen yet, -that my heart yearns to make a Christian of you? -Has no inner voice told you that I am trying to do for you, -what I was trying to do for your dear mother when death snatched -her out of my hands?" - -Rachel advanced a step nearer, and looked at me very strangely. - -"I don't understand your reference to my mother," she said. -"Miss Clack, will you have the goodness to explain yourself?" - -Before I could answer, Mr. Bruff came forward, and offering his arm to Rachel, -tried to lead her out of the room. - -"You had better not pursue the subject, my dear," he said. -"And Miss Clack had better not explain herself." - -If I had been a stock or a stone, such an interference as this must -have roused me into testifying to the truth. I put Mr. Bruff aside -indignantly with my own hand, and, in solemn and suitable language, -I stated the view with which sound doctrine does not scruple to regard -the awful calamity of dying unprepared. - -Rachel started back from me--I blush to write--with a scream of horror. - -"Come away!" she said to Mr. Bruff. "Come away, for God's sake, -before that woman can say any more! Oh, think of my poor -mother's harmless, useful, beautiful life! You were at the funeral, -Mr. Bruff; you saw how everybody loved her; you saw the poor helpless -people crying at her grave over the loss of their best friend. -And that wretch stands there, and tries to make me doubt that -my mother, who was an angel on earth, is an angel in heaven now! -Don't stop to talk about it! Come away! It stifles me to breathe -the same air with her! It frightens me to feel that we are in the same -room together!" - -Deaf to all remonstrance, she ran to the door. - -At the same moment, her maid entered with her bonnet and shawl. -She huddled them on anyhow. "Pack my things," she said, -"and bring them to Mr. Bruff's." I attempted to approach her-- -I was shocked and grieved, but, it is needless to say, not offended. -I only wished to say to her, "May your hard heart be softened! -I freely forgive you!" She pulled down her veil, and tore -her shawl away from my hand, and, hurrying out, shut the door -in my face. I bore the insult with my customary fortitude. -I remember it now with my customary superiority to all feeling -of offence. - -Mr. Bruff had his parting word of mockery for me, before he too hurried out, -in his turn. - -"You had better not have explained yourself, Miss Clack," -he said, and bowed, and left the room. - -The person with the cap-ribbons followed. - -"It's easy to see who has set them all by the ears together," she said. -"I'm only a poor servant--but I declare I'm ashamed of you!" She too -went out, and banged the door after her. - -I was left alone in the room. Reviled by them all, deserted by them all, -I was left alone in the room. - -Is there more to be added to this plain statement of facts-- -to this touching picture of a Christian persecuted by the world? -No! my diary reminds me that one more of the many chequered chapters -in my life ends here. From that day forth, I never saw Rachel -Verinder again. She had my forgiveness at the time when she insulted me. -She has had my prayerful good wishes ever since. And when I die-- -to complete the return on my part of good for evil--she will have -the LIFE, LETTERS, AND LABOURS OF MISS JANE ANN STAMPER left her as a -legacy by my will. - - - - SECOND NARRATIVE - - Contributed by MATHEW BRUFF, Solicitor, of Gray's Inn - Square - -CHAPTER I - - -My fair friend, Miss Clack, having laid down the pen, there are two reasons -for my taking it up next, in my turn. - -In the first place, I am in a position to throw the necessary light on -certain points of interest which have thus far been left in the dark. -Miss Verinder had her own private reason for breaking her marriage engagement-- -and I was at the bottom of it. Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite had his own private -reason for withdrawing all claim to the hand of his charming cousin-- -and I discovered what it was. - -In the second place, it was my good or ill fortune, I hardly know which, -to find myself personally involved--at the period of which I am now writing-- -in the mystery of the Indian Diamond. I had the honour of an interview, -at my own office, with an Oriental stranger of distinguished manners, -who was no other, unquestionably, than the chief of the three Indians. -Add to this, that I met with the celebrated traveller, Mr. Murthwaite, -the day afterwards, and that I held a conversation with him on the subject -of the Moonstone, which has a very important bearing on later events. -And there you have the statement of my claims to fill the position which I -occupy in these pages. - - - -The true story of the broken marriage engagement comes first in point -of time, and must therefore take the first place in the present narrative. -Tracing my way back along the chain of events, from one end to the other, -I find it necessary to open the scene, oddly enough as you will think, -at the bedside of my excellent client and friend, the late Sir -John Verinder. - -Sir John had his share--perhaps rather a large share--of the more -harmless and amiable of the weaknesses incidental to humanity. -Among these, I may mention as applicable to the matter in hand, -an invincible reluctance--so long as he enjoyed his usual -good health--to face the responsibility of making his will. -Lady Verinder exerted her influence to rouse him to a sense -of duty in this matter; and I exerted my influence. He admitted -the justice of our views--but he went no further than that, -until he found himself afflicted with the illness which ultimately -brought him to his grave. Then, I was sent for at last, -to take my client's instructions on the subject of his will. -They proved to be the simplest instructions I had ever received in -the whole of my professional career. - -Sir John was dozing, when I entered the room. He roused himself -at the sight of me. - -"How do you do, Mr. Bruff?" he said. "I sha'n't be very long about this. -And then I'll go to sleep again." He looked on with great interest -while I collected pens, ink, and paper. "Are you ready?" he asked. -I bowed and took a dip of ink, and waited for my instructions. - -"I leave everything to my wife," said Sir John. "That's all." -He turned round on his pillow, and composed himself to sleep again. - -I was obliged to disturb him. - -"Am I to understand," I asked, "that you leave the whole of the property, -of every sort and description, of which you die possessed, absolutely to -Lady Verinder?" - -"Yes," said Sir John. "Only, I put it shorter. Why can't you put -it shorter, and let me go to sleep again? Everything to my wife. -That's my Will." - -His property was entirely at his own disposal, and was of two kinds. -Property in land (I purposely abstain from using technical language), -and property in money. In the majority of cases, I am afraid I should -have felt it my duty to my client to ask him to reconsider his Will. -In the case of Sir John, I knew Lady Verinder to be, not only worthy -of the unreserved trust which her husband had placed in her (all good wives -are worthy of that)--but to be also capable of properly administering -a trust (which, in my experience of the fair sex, not one in a thousand -of them is competent to do). In ten minutes, Sir John's Will was drawn, -and executed, and Sir John himself, good man, was finishing his -interrupted nap. - -Lady Verinder amply justified the confidence which her husband had placed -in her. In the first days of her widowhood, she sent for me, and made -her Will. The view she took of her position was so thoroughly sound -and sensible, that I was relieved of all necessity for advising her. -My responsibility began and ended with shaping her instructions into -the proper legal form. Before Sir John had been a fortnight in his grave, -the future of his daughter had been most wisely and most affectionately -provided for. - -The Will remained in its fireproof box at my office, -through more years than I Like to reckon up. It was not till -the summer of eighteen hundred and forty-eight that I found -occasion to look at it again under very melancholy circumstances. - -At the date I have mentioned, the doctors pronounced the sentence -on poor Lady Verinder, which was literally a sentence of death. -I was the first person whom she informed of her situation; and I found -her anxious to go over her Will again with me. - -It was impossible to improve the provisions relating to her daughter. -But, in the lapse of time, her wishes in regard to certain minor legacies, -left to different relatives, had undergone some modification; and it -became necessary to add three or four Codicils to the original document. -Having done this at once, for fear of accident, I obtained her ladyship's -permission to embody her recent instructions in a second Will. -My object was to avoid certain inevitable confusions and repetitions -which now disfigured the original document, and which, to own the truth, -grated sadly on my professional sense of the fitness of things. - -The execution of this second Will has been described -by Miss Clack, who was so obliging as to witness it. -So far as regarded Rachel Verinder's pecuniary interests, -it was, word for word, the exact counterpart of the first Will. -The only changes introduced related to the appointment of a guardian, -and to certain provisions concerning that appointment, -which were made under my advice. On Lady Verinder's death, -the Will was placed in the hands of my proctor to be "proved" -(as the phrase is) in the usual way. - -In about three weeks from that time--as well as I can remember--the first -warning reached me of something unusual going on under the surface. -I happened to be looking in at my friend the proctor's office, and I -observed that he received me with an appearance of greater interest -than usual. - -"I have some news for you," he said. "What do you think I heard -at Doctors' Commons this morning? Lady Verinder's Will has been -asked for, and examined, already!" - -This was news indeed! There was absolutely nothing which -could be contested in the Will; and there was nobody I could -think of who had the slightest interest in examining it. -(I shall perhaps do well if I explain in this place, -for the benefit of the few people who don't know it already, -that the law allows all Wills to be examined at Doctors' -Commons by anybody who applies, on the payment of a shilling fee.) - -"Did you hear who asked for the Will?" I asked. - -"Yes; the clerk had no hesitation in telling ME. -Mr. Smalley, of the firm of Skipp and Smalley, asked for it. -The Will has not been copied yet into the great Folio Registers. -So there was no alternative but to depart from the usual course, -and to let him see the original document. He looked it -over carefully, and made a note in his pocket-book. Have you any idea -of what he wanted with it?" - -I shook my head. "I shall find out," I answered, "before I am a day older. -With that I went back at once to my own office. - -If any other firm of solicitors had been concerned in this -unaccountable examination of my deceased client's Will, I might -have found some difficulty in making the necessary discovery. -But I had a hold over Skipp and Smalley which made my course -in this matter a comparatively easy one. My common-law clerk -(a most competent and excellent man) was a brother of -Mr. Smalley's; and, owing to this sort of indirect connection -with me, Skipp and Smalley had, for some years past, -picked up the crumbs that fell from my table, in the shape -of cases brought to my office, which, for various reasons, -I did not think it worth while to undertake. My professional -patronage was, in this way, of some importance to the firm. -I intended, if necessary, to remind them of that patronage, -on the present occasion. - -The moment I got back I spoke to my clerk; and, after telling -him what had happened, I sent him to his brother's office, -"with Mr. Bruff's compliments, and he would be glad to know -why Messrs. Skipp and Smalley had found it necessary to examine -Lady Verinder's will." - -This message brought Mr. Smalley back to my office in company -with his brother. He acknowledged that he had acted under -instructions received from a client. And then he put it to me, -whether it would not be a breach of professional confidence -on his part to say more. - -We had a smart discussion upon that. He was right, no doubt; -and I was wrong. The truth is, I was angry and suspicious--and I -insisted on knowing more. Worse still, I declined to consider any -additional information offered me, as a secret placed in my keeping: -I claimed perfect freedom to use my own discretion. Worse even -than that, I took an unwarrantable advantage of my position. -"Choose, sir," I said to Mr. Smalley, "between the risk of losing your -client's business and the risk of losing Mine." Quite indefensible, -I admit--an act of tyranny, and nothing less. Like other tyrants, -I carried my point. Mr. Smalley chose his alternative, without a -moment's hesitation. - -He smiled resignedly, and gave up the name of his client: - -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. - -That was enough for me--I wanted to know no more. - - - -Having reached this point in my narrative, it now becomes necessary to place -the reader of these lines--so far as Lady Verinder's Will is concerned-- -on a footing of perfect equality, in respect of information, with myself. - -Let me state, then, in the fewest possible words, that Rachel -Verinder had nothing but a life-interest in the property. -Her mother's excellent sense, and my long experience, -had combined to relieve her of all responsibility, -and to guard her from all danger of becoming the victim in -the future of some needy and unscrupulous man. Neither she, -nor her husband (if she married), could raise sixpence, -either on the property in land, or on the property in money. -They would have the houses in London and in Yorkshire to live in, -and they would have the handsome income--and that was all. - -When I came to think over what I had discovered, I was sorely perplexed -what to do next. - -Hardly a week had passed since I had heard (to my surprise -and distress) of Miss Verinder's proposed marriage. -I had the sincerest admiration and affection for her; -and I had been inexpressibly grieved when I heard that she -was about to throw herself away on Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. -And now, here was the man--whom I had always believed to be -a smooth-tongued impostor--justifying the very worst that I -had thought of him, and plainly revealing the mercenary object -of the marriage, on his side! And what of that?--you may reply-- -the thing is done every day. Granted, my dear sir. But would -you think of it quite as lightly as you do, if the thing was done -(let us say) with your own sister? - -The first consideration which now naturally occurred to me was this. -Would Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite hold to his engagement, after what his lawyer -had discovered for him? - -It depended entirely on his pecuniary position, of which I knew nothing. -If that position was not a desperate one, it would be well worth his -while to marry Miss Verinder for her income alone. If, on the other hand, -he stood in urgent need of realising a large sum by a given time, -then Lady Verinder's Will would exactly meet the case, and would preserve -her daughter from falling into a scoundrel's hands. - -In the latter event, there would be no need for me to distress -Miss Rachel, in the first days of her mourning for her mother, -by an immediate revelation of the truth. In the former event, -if I remained silent, I should be conniving at a marriage which -would make her miserable for life. - -My doubts ended in my calling at the hotel in London, -at which I knew Mrs. Ablewhite and Miss Verinder to be staying. -They informed me that they were going to Brighton the next day, -and that an unexpected obstacle prevented Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite -from accompanying them. I at once proposed to take his place. -While I was only thinking of Rachel Verinder, it was possible -to hesitate. When I actually saw her, my mind was made up directly, -come what might of it, to tell her the truth. - -I found my opportunity, when I was out walking with her, -on the day after my arrival. - -"May I speak to you," I asked, "about your marriage engagement?" - -"Yes," she said, indifferently, "if you have nothing more interesting -to talk about." - -"Will you forgive an old friend and servant of your family, -Miss Rachel, if I venture on asking whether your heart is set -on this marriage?" - -"I am marrying in despair, Mr. Bruff--on the chance of dropping into -some sort of stagnant happiness which may reconcile me to my life." - -Strong language! and suggestive of something below the surface, -in the shape of a romance. But I had my own object in view, -and I declined (as we lawyers say) to pursue the question into -its side issues. - -"Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite can hardly be of your way of thinking," I said. -"HIS heart must be set on the marriage at any rate?" - -"He says so, and I suppose I ought to believe him. He would hardly marry me, -after what I have owned to him, unless he was fond of me." - -Poor thing! the bare idea of a man marrying her for his own -selfish and mercenary ends had never entered her head. -The task I had set myself began to look like a harder task than I -had bargained for. - -"It sounds strangely," I went on, "in my old-fashioned ears----" - -"What sounds strangely?" she asked. - -"To hear you speak of your future husband as if you were not quite sure -of the sincerity of his attachment. Are you conscious of any reason -in your own mind for doubting him?" - -Her astonishing quickness of perception, detected a change in my voice, -or my manner, when I put that question, which warned her that I had been -speaking all along with some ulterior object in view. She stopped, -and taking her arm out of mine, looked me searchingly in the face. - -"Mr. Bruff," she said, "you have something to tell me about -Godfrey Ablewhite. Tell it." - -I knew her well enough to take her at her word. I told it. - -She put her arm again into mine, and walked on with me slowly. -I felt her hand tightening its grasp mechanically on my arm, -and I saw her getting paler and paler as I went on--but, not a -word passed her lips while I was speaking. When I had done, -she still kept silence. Her head drooped a little, and she -walked by my side, unconscious of my presence, unconscious of -everything about her; lost--buried, I might almost say--in her -own thoughts. - -I made no attempt to disturb her. My experience of her disposition warned me, -on this, as on former occasions, to give her time. - -The first instinct of girls in general, on being told of anything -which interests them, is to ask a multitude of questions, and then -to run off, and talk it all over with some favourite friend. -Rachel Verinder's first instinct, under similar circumstances, -was to shut herself up in her own mind, and to think it over by herself. -This absolute self-dependence is a great virtue in a man. In a woman it -has a serious drawback of morally separating her from the mass of her sex, -and so exposing her to misconstruction by the general opinion. -I strongly suspect myself of thinking as the rest of the world -think in this matter--except in the case of Rachel Verinder. -The self-dependence in HER character, was one of its virtues -in my estimation; partly, no doubt, because I sincerely admired and -liked her; partly, because the view I took of her connexion with the loss -of the Moonstone was based on my own special knowledge of her disposition. -Badly as appearances might look, in the matter of the Diamond-- -shocking as it undoubtedly was to know that she was associated -in any way with the mystery of an undiscovered theft--I was satisfied -nevertheless that she had done nothing unworthy of her, because I -was also satisfied that she had not stirred a step in the business, -without shutting herself up in her own mind, and thinking it -over first. - -We had walked on, for nearly a mile I should say before Rachel -roused herself. She suddenly looked up at me with a faint -reflection of her smile of happier times--the most irresistible -smile I have ever seen on a woman's face. - -"I owe much already to your kindness," she said. "And I feel -more deeply indebted to it now than ever. If you hear any rumours -of my marriage when you get back to London contradict them at once, -on my authority." - -"Have you resolved to break your engagement?" I asked. - -"Can you doubt it?" she returned proudly, "after what you have told me!" - -"My dear Miss Rachel, you are very young--and you may find -more difficulty in withdrawing from your present position than -you anticipate. Have you no one--I mean a lady, of course-- -whom you could consult?" - -"No one," she answered. - -It distressed me, it did indeed distress me, to hear her say that. -She was so young and so lonely--and she bore it so well! -The impulse to help her got the better of any sense of my own -unfitness which I might have felt under the circumstances; -and I stated such ideas on the subject as occurred to me -on the spur of the moment, to the best of my ability. -I have advised a prodigious number of clients, and have dealt -with some exceedingly awkward difficulties, in my time. -But this was the first occasion on which I had ever found -myself advising a young lady how to obtain her release from a -marriage engagement. The suggestion I offered amounted briefly -to this. I recommended her to tell Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite-- -at a private interview, of course--that he had, to her -certain knowledge, betrayed the mercenary nature of the motive -on his side. She was then to add that their marriage, -after what she had discovered, was a simple impossibility-- -and she was to put it to him, whether he thought it wisest to -secure her silence by falling in with her views, or to force her, -by opposing them, to make the motive under which she was -acting generally known. If he attempted to defend himself, -or to deny the facts, she was, in that event, to refer him -to ME. - -Miss Verinder listened attentively till I had done. She then thanked me -very prettily for my advice, but informed me at the same time that it -was impossible for her to follow it. - -"May I ask," I said, "what objection you see to following it?" - -She hesitated--and then met me with a question on her side. - -"Suppose you were asked to express your opinion of Mr. Godfrey -Ablewhite's conduct?" she began. - -"Yes?" - -"What would you call it?" - -"I should call it the conduct of a meanly deceitful man." - -"Mr. Bruff! I have believed in that man. I have promised to marry that man. -How can I tell him he is mean, how can I tell him he has deceived me, -how can I disgrace him in the eyes of the world after that? I have degraded -myself by ever thinking of him as my husband. If I say what you tell -me to say to him--l am owning that I have degraded myself to his face. -I can't do that. After what has passed between us, I can't do that! -The shame of it would be nothing to HIM. But the shame of it would be -unendurable to ME." - -Here was another of the marked peculiarities in her character -disclosing itself to me without reserve. Here was her -sensitive horror of the bare contact with anything mean, -blinding her to every consideration of what she owed to herself, -hurrying her into a false position which might compromise -her in the estimation of all her friends! Up to this time, -I had been a little diffident about the propriety of the advice -I had given to her. But, after what she had just said, -I had no sort of doubt that it was the best advice that could -have been offered; and I felt no sort of hesitation in pressing -it on her again. - -She only shook her head, and repeated her objection in other words. - -"He has been intimate enough with me to ask me to be his wife. -He has stood high enough in my estimation to obtain my consent. -I can't tell him to his face that he is the most contemptible of -living creatures, after that!" - -"But, my dear Miss Rachel," I remonstrated, "it's equally impossible for you -to tell him that you withdraw from your engagement without giving some reason -for it." - -"I shall say that I have thought it over, and that I am satisfied -it will be best for both of us if we part. - -"No more than that?" - -"No more." - -"Have you thought of what he may say, on his side?" - -"He may say what he pleases." - -It was impossible not to admire her delicacy and her resolution, and it was -equally impossible not to feel that she was putting herself in the wrong. -I entreated her to consider her own position I reminded her that she would -be exposing herself to the most odious misconstruction of her motives. -"You can't brave public opinion," I said, "at the command of private feeling." - -"I can," she answered. "I have done it already." - -"What do you mean?" - -"You have forgotten the Moonstone, Mr. Bruff. Have I not braved -public opinion, THERE, with my own private reasons for it?" - -Her answer silenced me for the moment. It set me trying to trace -the explanation of her conduct, at the time of the loss of the Moonstone, -out of the strange avowal which had just escaped her. I might perhaps -have done it when I was younger. I certainly couldn't do it now. - -I tried a last remonstrance before we returned to the house. -She was just as immovable as ever. My mind was in a strange -conflict of feelings about her when I left her that day. -She was obstinate; she was wrong. She was interesting; -she was admirable; she was deeply to be pitied. I made her -promise to write to me the moment she had any news to send. -And I went back to my business in London, with a mind exceedingly ill -at ease. - -On the evening of my return, before it was possible for me to receive my -promised letter, I was surprised by a visit from Mr. Ablewhite the elder, -and was informed that Mr. Godfrey had got his dismissal--AND HAD ACCEPTED IT-- -that very day. - -With the view I already took of the case, the bare fact stated -in the words that I have underlined, revealed Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's -motive for submission as plainly as if he had acknowledged it himself. -He needed a large sum of money; and he needed it by a given time. -Rachel's income, which would have helped him to anything else, -would not help him here; and Rachel had accordingly released herself, -without encountering a moment's serious opposition on his part. -If I am told that this is a mere speculation, I ask, in my turn, -what other theory will account for his giving up a marriage -which would have maintained him in splendour for the rest of -his life? - -Any exultation I might otherwise have felt at the lucky turn which things -had now taken, was effectually checked by what passed at my interview with old -Mr. Ablewhite. - -He came, of course, to know whether I could give him any explanation -of Miss Verinder's extraordinary conduct. It is needless to say -that I was quite unable to afford him the information he wanted. -The annoyance which I thus inflicted, following on the irritation -produced by a recent interview with his son, threw Mr. Ablewhite -off his guard. Both his looks and his language convinced me -that Miss Verinder would find him a merciless man to deal with, -when he joined the ladies at Brighton the next day. - -I had a restless night, considering what I ought to do next. -How my reflections ended, and how thoroughly well founded my distrust -of Mr. Ablewhite proved to be, are items of information which -(as I am told) have already been put tidily in their proper places, -by that exemplary person, Miss Clack. I have only to add-- -in completion of her narrative--that Miss Verinder found the quiet -and repose which she sadly needed, poor thing, in my house at Hampstead. -She honoured us by making a long stay. My wife and daughters -were charmed with her; and, when the executors decided on the -appointment of a new guardian, I feel sincere pride and pleasure -in recording that my guest and my family parted like old friends, -on either side. - - - -CHAPTER II - - -The next thing I have to do, is to present such additional information -as I possess on the subject of the Moonstone, or, to speak -more correctly, on the subject of the Indian plot to steal the Diamond. -The little that I have to tell is (as I think I have already said) -of some importance, nevertheless, in respect of its bearing very -remarkably on events which are still to come. - -About a week or ten days after Miss Verinder had left us, -one of my clerks entered the private room at my office, with a -card in his hand, and informed me that a gentleman was below, -who wanted to speak to me. - -I looked at the card. There was a foreign name written on it, -which has escaped my memory. It was followed by a line -written in English at the bottom of the card, which I remember -perfectly well: - -"Recommended by Mr. Septimus Luker." - -The audacity of a person in Mr. Luker's position presuming -to recommend anybody to me, took me so completely by surprise, -that I sat silent for the moment, wondering whether my own eyes -had not deceived me. The clerk, observing my bewilderment, -favoured me with the result of his own observation of the stranger -who was waiting downstairs. - -"He is rather a remarkable-looking man, sir. So dark in the complexion -that we all set him down in the office for an Indian, or something -of that sort." - -Associating the clerk's idea with the line inscribed on the card in my hand, -I thought it possible that the Moonstone might be at the bottom of -Mr. Luker's recommendation, and of the stranger's visit at my office. -To the astonishment of my clerk, I at once decided on granting an interview -to the gentleman below. - -In justification of the highly unprofessional sacrifice to mere -curiosity which I thus made, permit me to remind anybody -who may read these lines, that no living person (in England, -at any rate) can claim to have had such an intimate connexion -with the romance of the Indian Diamond as mine has been. -I was trusted with the secret of Colonel Herncastle's plan -for escaping assassination. I received the Colonel's -letters, periodically reporting himself a living man. -I drew his Will, leaving the Moonstone to Miss Verinder. -I persuaded his executor to act, on the chance that the jewel -might prove to be a valuable acquisition to the family. -And, lastly, I combated Mr. Franklin Blake's scruples, -and induced him to be the means of transporting the Diamond -to Lady Verinder's house. If anyone can claim a prescriptive -right of interest in the Moonstone, and in everything -connected with it, I think it is hardly to be denied that I am -the man. - -The moment my mysterious client was shown in, I felt an inner -conviction that I was in the presence of one of the three Indians-- -probably of the chief. He was carefully dressed in European costume. -But his swarthy complexion, his long lithe figure, and his grave -and graceful politeness of manner were enough to betray his Oriental -origin to any intelligent eyes that looked at him. - -I pointed to a chair, and begged to be informed of the nature -of his business with me. - -After first apologising--in an excellent selection of English words-- -for the liberty which he had taken in disturbing me, the Indian produced -a small parcel the outer covering of which was of cloth of gold. -Removing this and a second wrapping of some silken fabric, he placed -a little box, or casket, on my table, most beautifully and richly inlaid -in jewels, on an ebony ground. - -"I have come, sir," he said, "to ask you to lend me some money. -And I leave this as an assurance to you that my debt will be -paid back." - -I pointed to his card. "And you apply to me," I rejoined, -"at Mr. Luker's recommendation?" - -The Indian bowed. - -"May I ask how it is that Mr. Luker himself did not advance the money -that you require?" - -"Mr. Luker informed me, sir, that he had no money to lend." - -"And so he recommended you to come to me?" - -The Indian, in his turn, pointed to the card. It is written there," -he said. - -Briefly answered, and thoroughly to the purpose! If the Moonstone -had been in my possession, this Oriental gentleman would have -murdered me, I am well aware, without a moment's hesitation. -At the same time, and barring that slight drawback, I am -bound to testify that he was the perfect model of a client. -He might not have respected my life. But he did what none -of my own countrymen had ever done, in all my experience of them-- -he respected my time. - -"I am sorry," I said, "that you should have had the trouble of coming to me. -Mr. Luker is quite mistaken in sending you here. I am trusted, like other men -in my profession, with money to lend. But I never lend it to strangers, and I -never lend it on such a security as you have produced." - -Far from attempting, as other people would have done, to induce -me to relax my own rules, the Indian only made me another bow, -and wrapped up his box in its two coverings without a word of protest. -He rose--this admirable assassin rose to go, the moment I had -answered him! - -"Will your condescension towards a stranger, excuse my asking one question," -he said, "before I take my leave?" - -I bowed on my side. Only one question at parting! The average -in my experience was fifty. - -"Supposing, sir, it had been possible (and customary) for you to lend me -the money," he said, "in what space of time would it have been possible -(and customary) for me to pay it back?" - -"According to the usual course pursued in this country," -I answered, "you would have been entitled to pay the money back -(if you liked) in one year's time from the date at which it was -first advanced to you." - -The Indian made me a last bow, the lowest of all--and suddenly and softly -walked out of the room. - -It was done in a moment, in a noiseless, supple, cat-like way, -which a little startled me, I own. As soon as I was composed -enough to think, I arrived at one distinct conclusion in reference -to the otherwise incomprehensible visitor who had favoured me -with a call. - -His face, voice, and manner--while I was in his company-- -were under such perfect control that they set all scrutiny -at defiance. But he had given me one chance of looking -under the smooth outer surface of him, for all that. -He had not shown the slightest sign of attempting to fix anything -that I had said to him in his mind, until I mentioned the time -at which it was customary to permit the earliest repayment, -on the part of a debtor, of money that had been advanced -as a loan. When I gave him that piece of information, -he looked me straight in the face, while I was speaking, -for the first time. The inference I drew from this was-- -that he had a special purpose in asking me his last question, -and a special interest in hearing my answer to it. -The more carefully I reflected on what had passed between us, -the more shrewdly I suspected the production of the casket, -and the application for the loan, of having been mere formalities, -designed to pave the way for the parting inquiry addressed -to me. - -I had satisfied myself of the correctness of this conclusion-- -and was trying to get on a step further, and penetrate the Indian's -motives next--when a letter was brought to me, which proved -to be from no less a person that Mr. Septimus Luker himself. -He asked my pardon in terms of sickening servility, and assured -me that he could explain matters to my satisfaction, if I would -honour him by consenting to a personal interview. - -I made another unprofessional sacrifice to mere curiosity. -I honoured him by making an appointment at my office, -for the next day. - -Mr. Luker was, in every respect, such an inferior creature to the Indian-- -he was so vulgar, so ugly, so cringing, and so prosy--that he is quite -unworthy of being reported, at any length, in these pages. The substance -of what he had to tell me may be fairly stated as follows: - -The day before I had received the visit of the Indian, Mr. Luker -had been favoured with a call from that accomplished gentleman. -In spite of his European disguise, Mr. Luker had instantly -identified his visitor with the chief of the three Indians, -who had formerly annoyed him by loitering about his house, -and who had left him no alternative but to consult a magistrate. -From this startling discovery he had rushed to the conclusion -(naturally enough I own) that he must certainly be in the company -of one of the three men, who had blindfolded him, gagged him, -and robbed him of his banker's receipt. The result was that -he became quite paralysed with terror, and that he firmly believed -his last hour had come. - -On his side, the Indian preserved the character of a perfect stranger. -He produced the little casket, and made exactly the same application -which he had afterwards made to me. As the speediest way of getting -rid of him, Mr. Luker had at once declared that he had no money. -The Indian had thereupon asked to be informed of the best and safest person -to apply to for the loan he wanted. Mr. Luker had answered that the best -and safest person, in such cases, was usually a respectable solicitor. -Asked to name some individual of that character and profession, Mr. Luker -had mentioned me--for the one simple reason that, in the extremity of -his terror, mine was the first name which occurred to him. "The perspiration -was pouring off me like rain, sir," the wretched creature concluded. -"I didn't know what I was talking about. And I hope you'll look over it, -Mr. Bruff, sir, in consideration of my having been really and truly frightened -out of my wits." - -I excused the fellow graciously enough. It was the readiest way -of releasing myself from the sight of him. Before he left me, -I detained him to make one inquiry. - -Had the Indian said anything noticeable, at the moment of quitting -Mr. Luker's house? - -Yes! The Indian had put precisely the same question to Mr. Luker, -at parting, which he had put to me; receiving of course, the same -answer as the answer which I had given him. - -What did it mean? Mr. Luker's explanation gave me no assistance -towards solving the problem. My own unaided ingenuity, -consulted next, proved quite unequal to grapple with the difficulty. -I had a dinner engagement that evening; and I went upstairs, -in no very genial frame of mind, little suspecting that the way -to my dressing-room and the way to discovery, meant, on this -particular occasion, one and the same thing. - - - -CHAPTER III - - -The prominent personage among the guests at the dinner party -I found to be Mr. Murthwaite. - -On his appearance in England, after his wanderings, society had been -greatly interested in the traveller, as a man who had passed through -many dangerous adventures, and who had escaped to tell the tale. -He had now announced his intention of returning to the scene of -his exploits, and of penetrating into regions left still unexplored. -This magnificent indifference to placing his safety in peril for the -second time, revived the flagging interest of the worshippers in the hero. -The law of chances was clearly against his escaping on this occasion. -It is not every day that we can meet an eminent person at dinner, -and feel that there is a reasonable prospect of the news of his murder -being the news that we hear of him next. - -When the gentlemen were left by themselves in the dining-room, I found myself -sitting next to Mr. Murthwaite. The guests present being all English, -it is needless to say that, as soon as the wholesome check exercised by -the presence of the ladies was removed, the conversation turned on politics -as a necessary result. - -In respect to this all-absorbing national topic, I happen to be one of -the most un-English Englishmen living. As a general rule, political talk -appears to me to be of all talk the most dreary and the most profitless. -Glancing at Mr. Murthwaite, when the bottles had made their first round -of the table, I found that he was apparently of my way of thinking. -He was doing it very dexterously--with all possible consideration -for the feelings of his host--but it is not the less certain that he was -composing himself for a nap. It struck me as an experiment worth attempting, -to try whether a judicious allusion to the subject of the Moonstone would -keep him awake, and, if it did, to see what HE thought of the last new -complication in the Indian conspiracy, as revealed in the prosaic precincts -of my office. - -"If I am not mistaken, Mr. Murthwaite," I began, "you were acquainted -with the late Lady Verinder, and you took some interest in the strange -succession of events which ended in the loss of the Moonstone?" - -The eminent traveller did me the honour of waking up in an instant, -and asking me who I was. - -I informed him of my professional connection with the Herncastle family, -not forgetting the curious position which I had occupied towards the Colonel -and his Diamond in the bygone time. - -Mr. Murthwaite shifted round in his chair, so as to put the rest -of the company behind him (Conservatives and Liberals alike), -and concentrated his whole attention on plain Mr. Bruff, of Gray's -Inn Square. - -"Have you heard anything, lately, of the Indians?" he asked. - -"I have every reason to believe," I answered, "that one of them -had an interview with me, in my office, yesterday." - -Mr. Murthwaite was not an easy man to astonish; but that last answer of mine -completely staggered him. I described what had happened to Mr. Luker, -and what had happened to myself, exactly as I have described it here. -"It is clear that the Indian's parting inquiry had an object," I added. -"Why should he be so anxious to know the time at which a borrower of money is -usually privileged to pay the money back?" - -"Is it possible that you don't see his motive, Mr. Bruff?" - -"I am ashamed of my stupidity, Mr. Murthwaite--but I certainly don't see it." - -The great traveller became quite interested in sounding the immense vacuity -of my dulness to its lowest depths. - -"Let me ask you one question," he said. "In what position does -the conspiracy to seize the Moonstone now stand?" - -"I can't say," I answered. "The Indian plot is a mystery to me." - -"The Indian plot, Mr. Bruff, can only be a mystery to you, because you -have never seriously examined it. Shall we run it over together, -from the time when you drew Colonel Herncastle's Will, to the time -when the Indian called at your office? In your position, it may be -of very serious importance to the interests of Miss Verinder, that you -should be able to take a clear view of this matter in case of need. -Tell me, bearing that in mind, whether you will penetrate the Indian's -motive for yourself? or whether you wish me to save you the trouble -of making any inquiry into it?" - -It is needless to say that I thoroughly appreciated the practical -purpose which I now saw that he had in view, and that the first -of the two alternatives was the alternative I chose. - -"Very good," said Mr. Murthwaite. "We will take the question -of the ages of the three Indians first. I can testify that they -all look much about the same age--and you can decide for yourself, -whether the man whom you saw was, or was not, in the prime of life. -Not forty, you think? My idea too. We will say not forty. -Now look back to the time when Colonel Herncastle came -to England, and when you were concerned in the plan he adopted -to preserve his life. I don't want you to count the years. -I will only say, it is clear that these present Indians, -at their age, must be the successors of three other Indians -(high caste Brahmins all of them, Mr. Bruff, when they left -their native country!) who followed the Colonel to these shores. -Very well. These present men of ours have succeeded to the men -who were here before them. If they had only done that, -the matter would not have been worth inquiring into. -But they have done more. They have succeeded to the organisation -which their predecessors established in this country. -Don't start! The organisation is a very trumpery affair, -according to our ideas, I have no doubt. I should reckon it up -as including the command of money; the services, when needed, -of that shady sort of Englishman, who lives in the byways -of foreign life in London; and, lastly, the secret sympathy -of such few men of their own country, and (formerly, at least) -of their own religion, as happen to be employed in ministering -to some of the multitudinous wants of this great city. -Nothing very formidable, as you see! But worth notice -at starting, because we may find occasion to refer -to this modest little Indian organisation as we go on. -Having now cleared the ground, I am going to ask you a question; -and I expect your experience to answer it. What was the event -which gave the Indians their first chance of seizing the -Diamond?" - -I understood the allusion to my experience. - -"The first chance they got," I replied, "was clearly offered to them -by Colonel Herncastle's death. They would be aware of his death, -I suppose, as a matter of course?" - -"As a matter of course. And his death, as you say, gave them their -first chance. Up to that time the Moonstone was safe in the strong-room -of the bank. You drew the Colonel's Will leaving his jewel to his niece; -and the Will was proved in the usual way. As a lawyer, you can be at no -loss to know what course the Indians would take (under English advice) -after THAT." - -"They would provide themselves with a copy of the Will -from Doctors' Commons," I said. - -"Exactly. One or other of those shady Englishmen to whom I -have alluded, would get them the copy you have described. -That copy would inform them that the Moonstone was bequeathed -to the daughter of Lady Verinder, and that Mr. Blake the elder, -or some person appointed by him, was to place it in her hands. -You will agree with me that the necessary information about -persons in the position of Lady Verinder and Mr. Blake, -would be perfectly easy information to obtain. The one difficulty -for the Indians would be to decide whether they should make -their attempt on the Diamond when it was in course of removal -from the keeping of the bank, or whether they should wait until -it was taken down to Yorkshire to Lady Verinder's house. -The second way would be manifestly the safest way--and there you -have the explanation of the appearance of the Indians at Frizinghall, -disguised as jugglers, and waiting their time. In London, -it is needless to say, they had their organisation at their -disposal to keep them informed of events. Two men would do it. -One to follow anybody who went from Mr. Blake's house to the bank. -And one to treat the lower men servants with beer, and to hear -the news of the house. These commonplace precautions would -readily inform them that Mr. Franklin Blake had been to the bank, -and that Mr. Franklin Blake was the only person in the house -who was going to visit Lady Verinder. What actually followed upon -that discovery, you remember, no doubt, quite as correctly as -I do." - -I remembered that Franklin Blake had detected one of the spies, in the street-- -that he had, in consequence, advanced the time of his arrival in Yorkshire -by some hours--and that (thanks to old Betteredge's excellent advice) he had -lodged the Diamond in the bank at Frizinghall, before the Indians were so much -as prepared to see him in the neighbourhood. All perfectly clear so far. -But the Indians being ignorant of the precautions thus taken, how was it that -they had made no attempt on Lady Verinder's house (in which they must have -supposed the Diamond to be) through the whole of the interval that elapsed -before Rachel's birthday? - -In putting this difficulty to Mr. Murthwaite, I thought it right -to add that I had heard of the little boy, and the drop of ink, -and the rest of it, and that any explanation based on the theory -of clairvoyance was an explanation which would carry no conviction -whatever with it, to MY mind. - -"Nor to mine either," said Mr. Murthwaite. "The clairvoyance -in this case is simply a development of the romantic side -of the Indian character. It would be refreshment and an -encouragement to those men--quite inconceivable, I grant you, -to the English mind--to surround their wearisome and perilous -errand in this country with a certain halo of the marvellous -and the supernatural. Their boy is unquestionably a sensitive -subject to the mesmeric influence--and, under that influence, -he has no doubt reflected what was already in the mind of the person -mesmerising him. I have tested the theory of clairvoyance-- -and I have never found the manifestations get beyond that point. -The Indians don't investigate the matter in this way; -the Indians look upon their boy as a Seer of things invisible -to their eyes--and, I repeat, in that marvel they find -the source of a new interest in the purpose that unites them. -I only notice this as offering a curious view of human character, -which must be quite new to you. We have nothing whatever -to do with clairvoyance, or with mesmerism, or with anything -else that is hard of belief to a practical man, in the inquiry -that we are now pursuing. My object in following the Indian plot, -step by step, is to trace results back, by rational means, -to natural causes. Have I succeeded to your satisfaction -so far?" - -"Not a doubt of it, Mr. Murthwaite! I am waiting, however, with some anxiety, -to hear the rational explanation of the difficulty which I have just had -the honour of submitting to you." - -Mr. Murthwaite smiled. "It's the easiest difficulty to deal with of all," -he said. "Permit me to begin by admitting your statement of the case -as a perfectly correct one. The Indians were undoubtedly not aware -of what Mr. Franklin Blake had done with the Diamond--for we find them -making their first mistake, on the first night of Mr. Blake's arrival at -his aunt's house." - -"Their first mistake?" I repeated. - -"Certainly! The mistake of allowing themselves to be surprised, -lurking about the terrace at night, by Gabriel Betteredge. -However, they had the merit of seeing for themselves that they -had taken a false step--for, as you say, again, with plenty -of time at their disposal, they never came near the house -for weeks afterwards." - -"Why, Mr. Murthwaite? That's what I want to know! Why?" - -"Because no Indian, Mr. Bruff, ever runs an unnecessary risk. -The clause you drew in Colonel Herncastle's Will, informed them -(didn't it?) that the Moonstone was to pass absolutely into -Miss Verinder's possession on her birthday. Very well. -Tell me which was the safest course for men in their position? -To make their attempt on the Diamond while it was under the control -of Mr. Franklin Blake, who had shown already that he could -suspect and outwit them? Or to wait till the Diamond was at -the disposal of a young girl, who would innocently delight -in wearing the magnificent jewel at every possible opportunity? -Perhaps you want a proof that my theory is correct? -Take the conduct of the Indians themselves as the proof. -They appeared at the house, after waiting all those weeks, -on Miss Verinder's birthday; and they were rewarded -for the patient accuracy of their calculations by seeing -the Moonstone in the bosom of her dress! When I heard -the story of the Colonel and the Diamond, later in the evening, -I felt so sure about the risk Mr. Franklin Blake had run -(they would have certainly attacked him, if he had not happened -to ride back to Lady Verinder's in the company of other people); -and I was so strongly convinced of the worse risk still, -in store for Miss Verinder, that I recommended following -the Colonel's plan, and destroying the identity of the gem -by having it cut into separate stones. How its extraordinary -disappearance that night, made my advice useless, and utterly -defeated the Hindoo plot--and how all further action on the part -of the Indians was paralysed the next day by their confinement -in prison as rogues and vagabonds--you know as well as I do. -The first act in the conspiracy closes there. Before we go -on to the second, may I ask whether I have met your difficulty, -with an explanation which is satisfactory to the mind of a practical -man?" - -It was impossible to deny that he had met my difficulty fairly; -thanks to his superior knowledge of the Indian character-- -and thanks to his not having had hundreds of other Wills to think -of since Colonel Herncastle's time! - -"So far, so good," resumed Mr. Murthwaite. "The first chance -the Indians had of seizing the Diamond was a chance lost, -on the day when they were committed to the prison at Frizinghall. -When did the second chance offer itself? The second chance -offered itself--as I am in a condition to prove--while they were -still in confinement." - -He took out his pocket-book, and opened it at a particular leaf, -before he went on. - -"I was staying," he resumed, "with some friends at Frizinghall, -at the time. A day or two before the Indians were set free -(on a Monday, I think), the governor of the prison came to me -with a letter. It had been left for the Indians by one Mrs. Macann, -of whom they had hired the lodging in which they lived; and it had -been delivered at Mrs. Macann's door, in ordinary course of post, -on the previous morning. The prison authorities had noticed that -the postmark was 'Lambeth,' and that the address on the outside, -though expressed in correct English, was, in form, oddly at variance -with the customary method of directing a letter. On opening it, -they had found the contents to be written in a foreign language, -which they rightly guessed at as Hindustani. Their object in coming -to me was, of course, to have the letter translated to them. -I took a copy in my pocket-book of the original, and of my translation-- -and there they are at your service." - -He handed me the open pocket-book. The address on the letter -was the first thing copied. It was all written in one paragraph, -without any attempt at punctuation, thus: "To the three Indian men -living with the lady called Macann at Frizinghall in Yorkshire." -The Hindoo characters followed; and the English translation appeared at -the end, expressed in these mysterious words: - -"In the name of the Regent of the Night, whose seat is on the Antelope, -whose arms embrace the four corners of the earth. - -"Brothers, turn your faces to the south, and come to me in the street -of many noises, which leads down to the muddy river. - -"The reason is this. - -"My own eyes have seen it." - -There the letter ended, without either date or signature. -I handed it back to Mr. Murthwaite, and owned that this curious -specimen of Hindoo correspondence rather puzzled me. - -"I can explain the first sentence to you," he said; -"and the conduct of the Indians themselves will explain the rest. -The god of the moon is represented, in the Hindoo mythology, -as a four-armed deity, seated on an antelope; and one of his -titles is the regent of the night. Here, then, to begin with, -is something which looks suspiciously like an indirect reference -to the Moonstone. Now, let us see what the Indians did, -after the prison authorities had allowed them to receive -their letter. On the very day when they were set free -they went at once to the railway station, and took -their places in the first train that started for London. -We all thought it a pity at Frizinghall that their proceedings -were not privately watched. But, after Lady Verinder had -dismissed the police-officer, and had stopped all further -inquiry into the loss of the Diamond, no one else could presume -to stir in the matter. The Indians were free to go to London, -and to London they went. What was the next news we heard of them, -Mr. Bruff?" - -"They were annoying Mr. Luker," I answered, "by loitering about the house -at Lambeth." - -"Did you read the report of Mr. Luker's application to the magistrate?" - -"Yes." - -"In the course of his statement he referred, if you remember, -to a foreign workman in his employment, whom he had just dismissed -on suspicion of attempted theft, and whom he also distrusted as -possibly acting in collusion with the Indians who had annoyed him. -The inference is pretty plain, Mr. Bruff, as to who wrote that letter -which puzzled you just now, and as to which of Mr. Luker's Oriental -treasures the workman had attempted to steal." - -The inference (as I hastened to acknowledge) was too plain to need -being pointed out. I had never doubted that the Moonstone had found -its way into Mr. Luker's hands, at the time Mr. Murthwaite alluded to. -My only question had been, How had the Indians discovered the circumstance? -This question (the most difficult to deal with of all, as I had thought) -had now received its answer, like the rest. Lawyer as I was, I began -to feel that I might trust Mr. Murthwaite to lead me blindfold through -the last windings of the labyrinth, along which he had guided me thus far. -I paid him the compliment of telling him this, and found my little concession -very graciously received. - -"You shall give me a piece of information in your turn before we go on," -he said. "Somebody must have taken the Moonstone from Yorkshire to London. -And somebody must have raised money on it, or it would never have been -in Mr. Luker's possession. Has there been any discovery made of who that -person was?" - -"None that I know of." - -"There was a story (was there not?) about Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. -I am told he is an eminent philanthropist--which is decidedly against him, -to begin with." - -I heartily agreed in this with Mr. Murthwaite. At the same time, -I felt bound to inform him (without, it is needless to say, -mentioning Miss Verinder's name) that Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite -had been cleared of all suspicion, on evidence which I could -answer for as entirely beyond dispute. - -"Very well," said Mr. Murthwaite, quietly, "let us leave it -to time to clear the matter up. In the meanwhile, Mr. Bruff, -we must get back again to the Indians, on your account. -Their journey to London simply ended in their becoming the victims -of another defeat. The loss of their second chance of seizing -the Diamond is mainly attributable, as I think, to the cunning -and foresight of Mr. Luker--who doesn't stand at the top -of the prosperous and ancient profession of usury for nothing! -By the prompt dismissal of the man in his employment, -he deprived the Indians of the assistance which their -confederate would have rendered them in getting into the house. -By the prompt transport of the Moonstone to his banker's, -he took the conspirators by surprise before they were -prepared with a new plan for robbing him. How the Indians, -in this latter case, suspected what he had done, and how they -contrived to possess themselves of his banker's receipt, -are events too recent to need dwelling on. Let it be enough -to say that they know the Moonstone to be once more out of -their reach; deposited (under the general description of "a valuable -of great price") in a banker's strong room. Now, Mr. Bruff, -what is their third chance of seizing the Diamond? and when will -it come?" - -As the question passed his lips, I penetrated the motive of the Indian's -visit to my office at last! - -"I see it!" I exclaimed. "The Indians take it for granted, as we do, -that the Moonstone has been pledged; and they want to be certainly -informed of the earliest period at which the pledge can be redeemed-- -because that will be the earliest period at which the Diamond can be removed -from the safe keeping of the bank!" - -"I told you you would find it out for yourself, Mr. Bruff, -if I only gave you a fair chance. In a year from the time -when the Moonstone was pledged, the Indians will be on the watch -for their third chance. Mr. Luker's own lips have told them -how long they will have to wait, and your respectable authority -has satisfied them that Mr. Luker has spoken the truth. -When do we suppose, at a rough guess, that the Diamond found -its way into the money-lender's hands?" - -"Towards the end of last June," I answered, "as well as I can reckon it." - -"And we are now in the year 'forty-eight. Very good. -If the unknown person who has pledged the Moonstone can redeem -it in a year, the jewel will be in that person's possession -again at the end of June, 'forty-nine. I shall be thousands -of miles from England and English news at that date. -But it may be worth YOUR while to take a note of it, and to arrange -to be in London at the time." - -"You think something serious will happen?" I said. - -"I think I shall be safer," he answered, "among the fiercest -fanatics of Central Asia than I should be if I crossed -the door of the bank with the Moonstone in my pocket. -The Indians have been defeated twice running, Mr. Bruff. -It's my firm belief that they won't be defeated a third time." - -Those were the last words he said on the subject. The coffee came in; -the guests rose, and dispersed themselves about the room; and we joined -the ladies of the dinner-party upstairs. - -I made a note of the date, and it may not be amiss if I close my narrative -by repeating that note here: - -JUNE, 'FORTY-NINE. EXPECT NEWS OF THE INDIANS, TOWARDS THE END OF THE MONTH. - -And that done, I hand the pen, which I have now no further claim to use, -to the writer who follows me next. - - - - THIRD NARRATIVE - - Contributed by FRANKLIN BLAKE - - -CHAPTER I - - -In the spring of the year eighteen hundred and forty-nine -I was wandering in the East, and had then recently altered -the travelling plans which I had laid out some months before, -and which I had communicated to my lawyer and my banker -in London. - -This change made it necessary for me to send one of my servants to obtain my -letters and remittances from the English consul in a certain city, which was -no longer included as one of my resting-places in my new travelling scheme. -The man was to join me again at an appointed place and time. An accident, -for which he was not responsible, delayed him on his errand. For a week I -and my people waited, encamped on the borders of a desert. At the end of that -time the missing man made his appearance, with the money and the letters, -at the entrance of my tent. - -"I am afraid I bring you bad news, sir," he said, and pointed -to one of the letters, which had a mourning border round it, -and the address on which was in the handwriting of Mr. Bruff. - -I know nothing, in a case of this kind, so unendurable as suspense. -The letter with the mourning border was the letter that I opened first. - -It informed me that my father was dead, and that I was heir -to his great fortune. The wealth which had thus fallen into -my hands brought its responsibilities with it, and Mr. Bruff -entreated me to lose no time in returning to England. - -By daybreak the next morning, I was on my way back to my own country. - - - -The picture presented of me, by my old friend Betteredge, at the time -of my departure from England, is (as I think) a little overdrawn. -He has, in his own quaint way, interpreted seriously one of his -young mistress's many satirical references to my foreign education; -and has persuaded himself that he actually saw those French, German, -and Italian sides to my character, which my lively cousin only -professed to discover in jest, and which never had any real existence, -except in our good Betteredge's own brain. But, barring this drawback, -I am bound to own that he has stated no more than the truth -in representing me as wounded to the heart by Rachel's treatment, -and as leaving England in the first keenness of suffering caused by -the bitterest disappointment of my life. - -I went abroad, resolved--if change and absence could help me--to forget her. -It is, I am persuaded, no true view of human nature which denies that change -and absence DO help a man under these circumstances; they force his attention -away from the exclusive contemplation of his own sorrow. I never forgot her; -but the pang of remembrance lost its worst bitterness, little by little, -as time, distance, and novelty interposed themselves more and more effectually -between Rachel and me. - -On the other hand, it is no less certain that, with the act -of turning homeward, the remedy which had gained its ground -so steadily, began now, just as steadily, to drop back. -The nearer I drew to the country which she inhabited, -and to the prospect of seeing her again, the more irresistibly -her influence began to recover its hold on me. On leaving -England she was the last person in the world whose name I -would have suffered to pass my lips. On returning to England, -she was the first person I inquired after, when Mr. Bruff and I -met again. - -I was informed, of course, of all that had happened in my absence; -in other words, of all that has been related here in continuation -of Betteredge's narrative--one circumstance only being excepted. -Mr. Bruff did not, at that time, feel himself at liberty to inform -me of the motives which had privately influenced Rachel and Godfrey -Ablewhite in recalling the marriage promise, on either side. -I troubled him with no embarrassing questions on this delicate subject. -It was relief enough to me, after the jealous disappointment caused -by hearing that she had ever contemplated being Godfrey's wife, to know -that reflection had convinced her of acting rashly, and that she had -effected her own release from her marriage engagement. - -Having heard the story of the past, my next inquiries (still inquiries -after Rachel!) advanced naturally to the present time. Under whose care -had she been placed after leaving Mr. Bruff's house? and where was she -living now? - -She was living under the care of a widowed sister of the late Sir -John Verinder--one Mrs. Merridew--whom her mother's executors had -requested to act as guardian, and who had accepted the proposal. -They were reported to me as getting on together admirably well, -and as being now established, for the season, in Mrs. Merridew's house -in Portland Place. - -Half an hour after receiving this information, I was on my way -to Portland Place--without having had the courage to own it to Mr. Bruff! - -The man who answered the door was not sure whether Miss Verinder was at home -or not. I sent him upstairs with my card, as the speediest way of setting -the question at rest. The man came down again with an impenetrable face, -and informed me that Miss Verinder was out. - -I might have suspected other people of purposely denying themselves to me. -But it was impossible to suspect Rachel. I left word that I would call again -at six o'clock that evening. - -At six o'clock I was informed for the second time that Miss -Verinder was not at home. Had any message been left for me. -No message had been left for me. Had Miss Verinder not received -my card? The servant begged my pardon--Miss Verinder HAD -received it. - -The inference was too plain to be resisted. Rachel declined to see me. - -On my side, I declined to be treated in this way, without making an attempt, -at least, to discover a reason for it. I sent up my name to Mrs. Merridew, -and requested her to favour me with a personal interview at any hour which it -might be most convenient to her to name. - -Mrs. Merridew made no difficulty about receiving me at once. -I was shown into a comfortable little sitting-room, and found -myself in the presence of a comfortable little elderly lady. -She was so good as to feel great regret and much surprise, -entirely on my account. She was at the same time, however, -not in a position to offer me any explanation, or to press -Rachel on a matter which appeared to relate to a question -of private feeling alone. This was said over and over again, -with a polite patience that nothing could tire; and this was -all I gained by applying to Mrs. Merridew. - -My last chance was to write to Rachel. My servant took a letter -to her the next day, with strict instructions to wait for an answer. - -The answer came back, literally in one sentence. - -"Miss Verinder begs to decline entering into any correspondence -with Mr. Franklin Blake." - -Fond as I was of her, I felt indignantly the insult offered to me -in that reply. Mr. Bruff came in to speak to me on business, -before I had recovered possession of myself. I dismissed -the business on the spot, and laid the whole case before him. -He proved to be as incapable of enlightening me as Mrs. Merridew herself. -I asked him if any slander had been spoken of me in Rachel's hearing. -Mr. Bruff was not aware of any slander of which I was the object. -Had she referred to me in any way while she was staying -under Mr. Bruff's roof? Never. Had she not so much as asked, -during all my long absence, whether I was living or dead? -No such question had ever passed her lips. I took out of my -pocket-book the letter which poor Lady Verinder had written to me -from Frizinghall, on the day when I left her house in Yorkshire. -And I pointed Mr. Bruff's attention to these two sentences -in it: - -"The valuable assistance which you rendered to the inquiry after -the lost jewel is still an unpardoned offence, in the present -dreadful state of Rachel's mind. Moving blindfold in this matter, -you have added to the burden of anxiety which she has had to bear, -by innocently threatening her secret with discovery through -your exertions." - -"Is it possible," I asked, "that the feeling towards me which is -there described, is as bitter as ever against me now?" - -Mr. Bruff looked unaffectedly distressed. - -"If you insist on an answer," he said, "I own I can place -no other interpretation on her conduct than that." - -I rang the bell, and directed my servant to pack my portmanteau, -and to send out for a railway guide. Mr. Bruff asked, in astonishment, -what I was going to do. - -"I am going to Yorkshire," I answered, "by the next train." - -"May I ask for what purpose?" - -"Mr. Bruff, the assistance I innocently rendered to the inquiry -after the Diamond was an unpardoned offence, in Rachel's mind, -nearly a year since; and it remains an unpardoned offence still. -I won't accept that position! I am determined to find out the secret -of her silence towards her mother, and her enmity towards me. -If time, pains, and money can do it, I will lay my hand on the thief who -took the Moonstone!" - -The worthy old gentleman attempted to remonstrate--to induce -me to listen to reason--to do his duty towards me, in short. -I was deaf to everything that he could urge. No earthly -consideration would, at that moment, have shaken the resolution -that was in me. - -"I shall take up the inquiry again," I went on, "at the point -where I dropped it; and I shall follow it onwards, step by step, -till I come to the present time. There are missing links in -the evidence, as I left it, which Gabriel Betteredge can supply, -and to Gabriel Betteredge I go!" - -Towards sunset that evening I stood again on the well-remembered terrace, -and looked once more at the peaceful old country house. The gardener was -the first person whom I saw in the deserted grounds. He had left Betteredge, -an hour since, sunning himself in the customary corner of the back yard. -I knew it well; and I said I would go and seek him myself. - -I walked round by the familiar paths and passages, and looked -in at the open gate of the yard. - -There he was--the dear old friend of the happy days that were never -to come again--there he was in the old corner, on the old beehive chair, -with his pipe in his mouth, and his ROBINSON CRUSOE on his lap, -and his two friends, the dogs, dozing on either side of him! -In the position in which I stood, my shadow was projected in front -of me by the last slanting rays of the sun. Either the dogs saw it, -or their keen scent informed them of my approach; they started -up with a growl. Starting in his turn, the old man quieted -them by a word, and then shaded his failing eyes with his hand, -and looked inquiringly at the figure at the gate. - -My own eyes were full of tears. I was obliged to wait a moment -before I could trust myself to speak to him. - - - -CHAPTER II - - -"Betteredge!" I said, pointing to the well-remembered book on his knee, -"has ROBINSON CRUSOE informed you, this evening, that you might expect -to see Franklin Blake?" - -"By the lord Harry, Mr. Franklin!" cried the old man, "that's exactly -what ROBINSON CRUSOE has done!" - -He struggled to his feet with my assistance, and stood for a moment, -looking backwards and forwards between ROBINSON CRUSOE and me, -apparently at a loss to discover which of us had surprised him most. -The verdict ended in favour of the book. Holding it open before -him in both hands, he surveyed the wonderful volume with a stare -of unutterable anticipation--as if he expected to see Robinson -Crusoe himself walk out of the pages, and favour us with a -personal interview. - -"Here's the bit, Mr. Franklin!" he said, as soon as he had -recovered the use of his speech. "As I live by bread, sir, -here's the bit I was reading, the moment before you came in! -Page one hundred and fifty-six as follows:--'I stood like -one Thunderstruck, or as if I had seen an Apparition.' -If that isn't as much as to say: 'Expect the sudden appearance -of Mr. Franklin Blake'--there's no meaning in the English language!" -said Betteredge, closing the book with a bang, and getting -one of his hands free at last to take the hand which I -offered him. - -I had expected him, naturally enough under the circumstances, -to overwhelm me with questions. But no--the hospitable -impulse was the uppermost impulse in the old servant's mind, -when a member of the family appeared (no matter how!) -as a visitor at the house. - -"Walk in, Mr. Franklin," he said, opening the door behind him, -with his quaint old-fashioned bow. "I'll ask what brings -you here afterwards--I must make you comfortable first. -There have been sad changes, since you went away. The house -is shut up, and the servants are gone. Never mind that! -I'll cook your dinner; and the gardener's wife will make your bed-- -and if there's a bottle of our famous Latour claret left in -the cellar, down your throat, Mr. Franklin, that bottle shall go. -I bid you welcome, sir! I bid you heartily welcome!" -said the poor old fellow, fighting manfully against the gloom -of the deserted house, and receiving me with the sociable and -courteous attention of the bygone time. - -It vexed me to disappoint him. But the house was Rachel's house, now. -Could I eat in it, or sleep in it, after what had happened in London? -The commonest sense of self-respect forbade me--properly forbade me-- -to cross the threshold. - -I took Betteredge by the arm, and led him out into the garden. -There was no help for it. I was obliged to tell him the truth. -Between his attachment to Rachel, and his attachment to me, -he was sorely puzzled and distressed at the turn things had taken. -His opinion, when he expressed it, was given in his usual downright manner, -and was agreeably redolent of the most positive philosophy I know-- -the philosophy of the Betteredge school. - -"Miss Rachel has her faults--I've never denied it," he began. -"And riding the high horse, now and then, is one of them. -She has been trying to ride over you--and you have put up -with it. Lord, Mr. Franklin, don't you know women by this -time better than that? You have heard me talk of the late -Mrs. Betteredge?" - -I had heard him talk of the late Mrs. Betteredge pretty often-- -invariably producing her as his one undeniable example -of the inbred frailty and perversity of the other sex. -In that capacity he exhibited her now. - -"Very well, Mr. Franklin. Now listen to me. Different women have -different ways of riding the high horse. The late Mrs. Betteredge -took her exercise on that favourite female animal whenever I -happened to deny her anything that she had set her heart on. -So sure as I came home form my work on these occasions, -so sure was my wife to call to me up the kitchen stairs, -and to say that, after my brutal treatment of her, she hadn't -the heart to cook me my dinner. I put up with it for some time-- -just as you are putting up with it now from Miss Rachel. -At last my patience wore out. I went downstairs, and I -took Mrs. Betteredge--affectionately, you understand-- -up in my arms, and carried her, holus-bolus, into the best -parlour where she received her company. I said "That's the right -place for you, my dear," and so went back to the kitchen. -I locked myself in, and took off my coat, and turned up my -shirt-sleeves, and cooked my own dinner. When it was done, -I served it up in my best manner, and enjoyed it most heartily. -I had my pipe and my drop of grog afterwards; and then I cleared -the table, and washed the crockery, and cleaned the knives -and forks, and put the things away, and swept up the hearth. -When things were as bright and clean again, as bright and clean -could be, I opened the door and let Mrs. Betteredge in. -"I've had my dinner, my dear," I said; "and I hope you will find that -I have left the kitchen all that your fondest wishes can desire." -For the rest of that woman's life, Mr. Franklin, I never had to -cook my dinner again! Moral: You have put up with Miss Rachel -in London; don't put up with her in Yorkshire. Come back to -the house!" - -Quite unanswerable! I could only assure my good friend that even HIS -powers of persuasion were, in this case, thrown away on me. - -"It's a lovely evening," I said. "I shall walk to Frizinghall, and stay -at the hotel, and you must come to-morrow morning and breakfast with me. -I have something to say to you." - -Betteredge shook his head gravely. - -"I am heartily sorry for this," he said. "I had hoped, Mr. Franklin, -to hear that things were all smooth and pleasant again between you -and Miss Rachel. If you must have your own way, sir," he continued, -after a moment's reflection, "there is no need to go to Frizinghall -to-night for a bed. It's to be had nearer than that. -There's Hotherstone's Farm, barely two miles from here. You can hardly -object to THAT on Miss Rachel's account," the old man added slily. -"Hotherstone lives, Mr. Franklin, on his own freehold." - -I remembered the place the moment Betteredge mentioned it. -The farm-house stood in a sheltered inland valley, -on the banks of the prettiest stream in that part of Yorkshire: -and the farmer had a spare bedroom and parlour, which he was -accustomed to let to artists, anglers, and tourists in general. -A more agreeable place of abode, during my stay in the neighbourhood, -I could not have wished to find. - -"Are the rooms to let?" I inquired. - -"Mrs. Hotherstone herself, sir, asked for my good word to recommend -the rooms, yesterday." - -"I'll take them, Betteredge, with the greatest pleasure." - -We went back to the yard, in which I had left my travelling-bag. After -putting a stick through the handle, and swinging the bag over his shoulder, -Betteredge appeared to relapse into the bewilderment which my sudden -appearance had caused, when I surprised him in the beehive chair. -He looked incredulously at the house, and then he wheeled about, and looked -more incredulously still at me. - -"I've lived a goodish long time in the world," said this best and dearest -of all old servants--"but the like of this, I never did expect to see. -There stands the house, and here stands Mr. Franklin Blake--and, Damme, -if one of them isn't turning his back on the other, and going to sleep -in a lodging!" - -He led the way out, wagging his head and growling ominously. -"There's only one more miracle that CAN happen," he said to me, -over his shoulder. "The next thing you'll do, Mr. Franklin, -will be to pay me back that seven-and-sixpence you borrowed of me -when you were a boy." - -This stroke of sarcasm put him in a better humour with himself and with me. -We left the house, and passed through the lodge gates. Once clear of -the grounds, the duties of hospitality (in Betteredge's code of morals) -ceased, and the privileges of curiosity began. - -He dropped back, so as to let me get on a level with him. -"Fine evening for a walk, Mr. Franklin," he said, as if we -had just accidentally encountered each other at that moment. -"Supposing you had gone to the hotel at Frizinghall, sir?" - -"Yes?" - -"I should have had the honour of breakfasting with you, -to-morrow morning." - -"Come and breakfast with me at Hotherstone's Farm, instead." - -"Much obliged to you for your kindness, Mr. Franklin. -But it wasn't exactly breakfast that I was driving at. -I think you mentioned that you had something to say to me? -If it's no secret, sir," said Betteredge, suddenly abandoning -the crooked way, and taking the straight one, "I'm burning -to know what's brought you down here, if you please, in this -sudden way." - -"What brought me here before?" I asked. - -"The Moonstone, Mr. Franklin. But what brings you now, sir?" - -"The Moonstone again, Betteredge." - -The old man suddenly stood still, and looked at me in the grey twilight -as if he suspected his own ears of deceiving him. - -"If that's a joke, sir," he said, "I'm afraid I'm getting a little -dull in my old age. I don't take it." - -"It's no joke," I answered. "I have come here to take up the inquiry -which was dropped when I left England. I have come here to do what nobody -has done yet--to find out who took the Diamond." - -"Let the Diamond be, Mr. Franklin! Take my advice, and let the Diamond be! -That cursed Indian jewel has misguided everybody who has come near it. -Don't waste your money and your temper--in the fine spring time of -your life, sir--by meddling with the Moonstone. How can YOU hope to succeed -(saving your presence), when Sergeant Cuff himself made a mess of it? -Sergeant Cuff!" repeated Betteredge, shaking his forefinger at me sternly. -"The greatest policeman in England!" - -"My mind is made up, my old friend. Even Sergeant Cuff doesn't daunt me. -By-the-bye, I may want to speak to him, sooner or later. Have you heard -anything of him lately?" - -"The Sergeant won't help you, Mr. Franklin." - -"Why not?" - -"There has been an event, sir, in the police-circles, since you went away. -The great Cuff has retired from business. He has got a little -cottage at Dorking; and he's up to his eyes in the growing of roses. -I have it in his own handwriting, Mr. Franklin. He has grown the white -moss rose, without budding it on the dog-rose first. And Mr. Begbie -the gardener is to go to Dorking, and own that the Sergeant has beaten him -at last." - -"It doesn't much matter," I said. "I must do without Sergeant Cuff's help. -And I must trust to you, at starting." - -It is likely enough that I spoke rather carelessly. - -At any rate, Betteredge seemed to be piqued by something in the reply which I -had just made to him. "You might trust to worse than me, Mr. Franklin-- -I can tell you that," he said a little sharply. - -The tone in which he retorted, and a certain disturbance, after he had spoken, -which I detected in his manner, suggested to me that he was possessed of some -information which he hesitated to communicate. - -"I expect you to help me," I said, "in picking up the fragments of evidence -which Sergeant Cuff has left behind him. I know you can do that. -Can you do no more?" - -"What more can you expect from me, sir?" asked Betteredge, -with an appearance of the utmost humility. - -"I expect more--from what you said just now." - -"Mere boasting, Mr. Franklin," returned the old man obstinately. -"Some people are born boasters, and they never get over it to their -dying day. I'm one of them." - -There was only one way to take with him. I appealed to his interest -in Rachel, and his interest in me. - -"Betteredge, would you be glad to hear that Rachel and I -were good friends again?" - -"I have served your family, sir, to mighty little purpose, -if you doubt it!" - -"Do you remember how Rachel treated me, before I left England?" - -"As well as if it was yesterday! My lady herself wrote you a letter -about it; and you were so good as to show the letter to me. -It said that Miss Rachel was mortally offended with you, -for the part you had taken in trying to recover her jewel. -And neither my lady, nor you, nor anybody else could -guess why. - -"Quite true, Betteredge! And I come back from my travels, -and find her mortally offended with me still. -I knew that the Diamond was at the bottom of it, last year, -and I know that the Diamond is at the bottom of it now. -I have tried to speak to her, and she won't see me. -I have tried to write to her, and she won't answer me. -How, in Heaven's name, am I to clear the matter up? -The chance of searching into the loss of the Moonstone, -is the one chance of inquiry that Rachel herself has -left me." - -Those words evidently put the case before him, as he had not seen it yet. -He asked a question which satisfied me that I had shaken him. - -"There is no ill-feeling in this, Mr. Franklin, on your side-- -is there?" - -"There was some anger," I answered, "when I left London. -But that is all worn out now. I want to make Rachel come to an -understanding with me--and I want nothing more." - -"You don't feel any fear, sir--supposing you make any discoveries-- -in regard to what you may find out about Miss Rachel?" - -I understood the jealous belief in his young mistress which prompted -those words. - -"I am as certain of her as you are," I answered. "The fullest disclosure -of her secret will reveal nothing that can alter her place in your estimation, -or in mine." - -Betteredge's last-left scruples vanished at that. - -"If I am doing wrong to help you, Mr. Franklin," he exclaimed, -"all I can say is--I am as innocent of seeing it as the babe unborn! -I can put you on the road to discovery, if you can only go on by yourself. -You remember that poor girl of ours--Rosanna Spearman?" - -"Of course!" - -"You always thought she had some sort of confession in regard to this -matter of the Moonstone, which she wanted to make to you?" - -"I certainly couldn't account for her strange conduct in any other way." - -"You may set that doubt at rest, Mr. Franklin, whenever you please." - -It was my turn to come to a standstill now. I tried vainly, -in the gathering darkness, to see his face. In the surprise -of the moment, I asked a little impatiently what he meant. - -"Steady, sir!" proceeded Betteredge. "I mean what I say. -Rosanna Spearman left a sealed letter behind her--a letter -addressed to YOU." - -"Where is it?" - -"In the possession of a friend of hers, at Cobb's Hole. You must -have heard tell, when you were here last, sir, of Limping Lucy-- -a lame girl with a crutch." - -"The fisherman's daughter?" - -"The same, Mr. Franklin." - -"Why wasn't the letter forwarded to me?" - -"Limping Lucy has a will of her own, sir. She wouldn't give it -into any hands but yours. And you had left England before I could -write to you." - -"Let's go back, Betteredge, and get it at once!" - -"Too late, sir, to-night. They're great savers of candles along our coast; -and they go to bed early at Cobb's Hole." - -"Nonsense! We might get there in half an hour." - -"You might, sir. And when you did get there, you would find the door locked. -He pointed to a light, glimmering below us; and, at the same moment, -I heard through the stillness of the evening the bubbling of a stream. -"There's the Farm, Mr. Franklin! Make yourself comfortable for to-night, and -come to me to-morrow morning if you'll be so kind?" - -"You will go with me to the fisherman's cottage?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Early?" - -"As early, Mr. Franklin, as you like." - -We descended the path that led to the Farm. - - - -CHAPTER III - - -I have only the most indistinct recollection of what happened -at Hotherstone's Farm. - -I remember a hearty welcome; a prodigious supper, which would -have fed a whole village in the East; a delightfully clean bedroom, -with nothing in it to regret but that detestable product of the folly -of our fore-fathers--a feather-bed; a restless night, with much -kindling of matches, and many lightings of one little candle; -and an immense sensation of relief when the sun rose, and there was -a prospect of getting up. - -It had been arranged over-night with Betteredge, that I was to call for him, -on our way to Cobb's Hole, as early as I liked--which, interpreted by my -impatience to get possession of the letter, meant as early as I could. -Without waiting for breakfast at the Farm, I took a crust of bread in my hand, -and set forth, in some doubt whether I should not surprise the excellent -Betteredge in his bed. To my great relief he proved to be quite as excited -about the coming event as I was. I found him ready, and waiting for me, -with his stick in his hand. - -"How are you this morning, Betteredge?" - -"Very poorly, sir." - -"Sorry to hear it. What do you complain of?" - -"I complain of a new disease, Mr. Franklin, of my own inventing. -I don't want to alarm you, but you're certain to catch it before -the morning is out." - -"The devil I am!" - -"Do you feel an uncomfortable heat at the pit of your stomach, -sir? and a nasty thumping at the top of your head? Ah! not yet? -It will lay hold of you at Cobb's Hole, Mr. Franklin. I call -it the detective-fever; and I first caught it in the company of -Sergeant Cuff." - -"Aye! aye! and the cure in this instance is to open Rosanna Spearman's letter, -I suppose? Come along, and let's get it." - -Early as it was, we found the fisherman's wife astir in her kitchen. -On my presentation by Betteredge, good Mrs. Yolland performed -a social ceremony, strictly reserved (as I afterwards learnt) -for strangers of distinction. She put a bottle of Dutch gin and a couple -of clean pipes on the table, and opened the conversation by saying, -"What news from London, sir?" - -Before I could find an answer to this immensely comprehensive question, -an apparition advanced towards me, out of a dark corner of the kitchen. -A wan, wild, haggard girl, with remarkably beautiful hair, and with a fierce -keenness in her eyes, came limping up on a crutch to the table at which I -was sitting, and looked at me as if I was an object of mingled interest -and horror, which it quite fascinated her to see. - -"Mr. Betteredge," she said, without taking her eyes off me, -"mention his name again, if you please." - -"This gentleman's name," answered Betteredge (with a strong -emphasis on GENTLEMAN), "is Mr. Franklin Blake." - -The girl turned her back on me, and suddenly left the room. -Good Mrs. Yolland--as I believe--made some apologies for her -daughter's odd behaviour, and Betteredge (probably) translated them -into polite English. I speak of this in complete uncertainty. -My attention was absorbed in following the sound of the girl's crutch. -Thump-thump, up the wooden stairs; thump-thump across the room -above our heads; thump-thump down the stairs again--and there -stood the apparition at the open door, with a letter in its hand, -beckoning me out! - -I left more apologies in course of delivery behind me, and followed -this strange creature--limping on before me, faster and faster-- -down the slope of the beach. She led me behind some boats, -out of sight and hearing of the few people in the fishing-village, -and then stopped, and faced me for the first time. - -"Stand there," she said, "I want to look at you." - -There was no mistaking the expression on her face. I inspired -her with the strongest emotions of abhorrence and disgust. -Let me not be vain enough to say that no woman had ever looked -at me in this manner before. I will only venture on the more -modest assertion that no woman had ever let me perceive it yet. -There is a limit to the length of the inspection which a man -can endure, under certain circumstances. I attempted to direct -Limping Lucy's attention to some less revolting object than -my face. - -"I think you have got a letter to give me," I began. "Is it the letter there, -in your hand?" - -"Say that again," was the only answer I received. - -I repeated the words, like a good child learning its lesson. - -"No," said the girl, speaking to herself, but keeping her eyes -still mercilessly fixed on me. "I can't find out what she saw -in his face. I can't guess what she heard in his voice." -She suddenly looked away from me, and rested her head wearily -on the top of her crutch. "Oh, my poor dear!" she said, -in the first soft tones which had fallen from her, in my hearing. -"Oh, my lost darling! what could you see in this man?" -She lifted her head again fiercely, and looked at me once more. -"Can you eat and drink?" she asked. - -I did my best to preserve my gravity, and answered, "Yes." - -"Can you sleep?" - -"Yes." - -"When you see a poor girl in service, do you feel no remorse?" - -"Certainly not. Why should I?" - -She abruptly thrust the letter (as the phrase is) into my face. - -"Take it!" she exclaimed furiously. "I never set eyes on you before. -God Almighty forbid I should ever set eyes on you again." - -With those parting words she limped away from me at the top of her speed. -The one interpretation that I could put on her conduct has, no doubt, -been anticipated by everybody. I could only suppose that she was mad. - -Having reached that inevitable conclusion, I turned to the more -interesting object of investigation which was presented to me -by Rosanna Spearman's letter. The address was written as -follows:--'For Franklin Blake, Esq. To be given into his own hands -(and not to be trusted to any one else), by Lucy Yolland." - -I broke the seal. The envelope contained a letter: and this, in its turn, -contained a slip of paper. I read the letter first:-- - -"Sir,--If you are curious to know the meaning of my behaviour to you, -whilst you were staying in the house of my mistress, Lady Verinder, -do what you are told to do in the memorandum enclosed with this-- -and do it without any person being present to overlook you. -Your humble servant, - -"ROSANNA SPEARMAN." - - - -I turned to the slip of paper next. Here is the literal copy of it, -word for word: - -"Memorandum:--To go to the Shivering Sand at the turn of the tide. -To walk out on the South Spit, until I get the South Spit Beacon, -and the flagstaff at the Coast-guard station above Cobb's Hole in a -line together. To lay down on the rocks, a stick, or any straight thing -to guide my hand, exactly in the line of the beacon and the flagstaff. -To take care, in doing this, that one end of the stick shall be at -the edge of the rocks, on the side of them which overlooks the quicksand. -To feel along the stick, among the sea-weed (beginning from the end -of the stick which points towards the beacon), for the Chain. -To run my hand along the Chain, when found, until I come to the part of it -which stretches over the edge of the rocks, down into the quicksand. -AND THEN TO PULL THE CHAIN." - -Just as I had read the last words--underlined in the original-- -I heard the voice of Betteredge behind me. The inventor of the -detective-fever had completely succumbed to that irresistible malady. -"I can't stand it any longer, Mr. Franklin. What does her letter say? -For mercy's sake, sir, tell us, what does her letter say?" - -I handed him the letter, and the memorandum. He read the first without -appearing to be much interested in it. But the second--the memorandum-- -produced a strong impression on him. - -"The Sergeant said it!" cried Betteredge. "From first to last, sir, -the Sergeant said she had got a memorandum of the hiding-place. -And here it is! Lord save us, Mr. Franklin, here is the secret -that puzzled everybody, from the great Cuff downwards, -ready and waiting, as one may say, to show itself to YOU! -It's the ebb now, sir, as anybody may see for themselves. -How long will it be till the turn of the tide?" He looked up, -and observed a lad at work, at some little distance from us, -mending a net. "Tammie Bright!" he shouted at the top of -his voice. - -"I hear you!" Tammie shouted back. - -"When's the turn of the tide?" - -"In an hour's time." - -We both looked at our watches. - -"We can go round by the coast, Mr. Franklin," said Betteredge; -"and get to the quicksand in that way with plenty of time to spare. -What do you say, sir?" - -"Come along!" - -On our way to the Shivering Sand, I applied to Betteredge to revive -my memory of events (as affecting Rosanna Spearman) at the period -of Sergeant Cuff's inquiry. With my old friend's help, I soon -had the succession of circumstances clearly registered in my mind. -Rosanna's journey to Frizinghall, when the whole household believed -her to be ill in her own room--Rosanna's mysterious employment -of the night-time with her door locked, and her candle burning till -the morning--Rosanna's suspicious purchase of the japanned tin case, -and the two dog's chains from Mrs. Yolland--the Sergeant's positive -conviction that Rosanna had hidden something at the Shivering Sand, -and the Sergeant's absolute ignorance as to what that something might be-- -all these strange results of the abortive inquiry into the loss -of the Moonstone were clearly present to me again, when we reached -the quicksand, and walked out together on the low ledge of rocks called -the South Spit. - -With Betteredge's help, I soon stood in the right position to see -the Beacon and the Coast-guard flagstaff in a line together. -Following the memorandum as our guide, we next laid my stick -in the necessary direction, as neatly as we could, on the uneven -surface of the rocks. And then we looked at our watches -once more. - -It wanted nearly twenty minutes yet of the turn of the tide. -I suggested waiting through this interval on the beach, -instead of on the wet and slippery surface of the rocks. -Having reached the dry sand, I prepared to sit down; and, greatly to -my surprise, Betteredge prepared to leave me. - -"What are you going away for?" I asked. - -"Look at the letter again, sir, and you will see." - -A glance at the letter reminded me that I was charged, when I made -my discovery, to make it alone. - -"It's hard enough for me to leave you, at such a time as this," -said Betteredge. "But she died a dreadful death, poor soul-- -and I feel a kind of call on me, Mr. Franklin, to humour that fancy -of hers. Besides," he added, confidentially, "there's nothing -in the letter against your letting out the secret afterwards. -I'll hang about in the fir plantation, and wait till you pick me up. -Don't be longer than you can help, sir. The detective-fever isn't an easy -disease to deal with, under THESE circumstances." - -With that parting caution, he left me. - -The interval of expectation, short as it was when reckoned by the measure -of time, assumed formidable proportions when reckoned by the measure -of suspense. This was one of the occasions on which the invaluable habit -of smoking becomes especially precious and consolatory. I lit a cigar, -and sat down on the slope of the beach. - -The sunlight poured its unclouded beauty on every object that I could see. -The exquisite freshness of the air made the mere act of living and breathing -a luxury. Even the lonely little bay welcomed the morning with a show -of cheerfulness; and the bared wet surface of the quicksand itself, -glittering with a golden brightness, hid the horror of its false brown face -under a passing smile. It was the finest day I had seen since my return -to England. - -The turn of the tide came, before my cigar was finished. -I saw the preliminary heaving of the Sand, and then the awful -shiver that crept over its surface--as if some spirit of terror -lived and moved and shuddered in the fathomless deeps beneath. -I threw away my cigar, and went back again to the rocks. - -My directions in the memorandum instructed me to feel along the line traced -by the stick, beginning with the end which was nearest to the beacon. - -I advanced, in this manner, more than half way along the stick, -without encountering anything but the edges of the rocks. -An inch or two further on, however, my patience was rewarded. -In a narrow little fissure, just within reach of my forefinger, -I felt the chain. Attempting, next, to follow it, by touch, -in the direction of the quicksand, I found my progress stopped by a -thick growth of seaweed--which had fastened itself into the fissure, -no doubt, in the time that had elapsed since Rosanna Spearman had -chosen her hiding-place. - -It was equally impossible to pull up the seaweed, or to force -my hand through it. After marking the spot indicated by the end -of the stick which was placed nearest to the quicksand, -I determined to pursue the search for the chain on a plan -of my own. My idea was to "sound" immediately under the rocks, -on the chance of recovering the lost trace of the chain at -the point at which it entered the sand. I took up the stick, -and knelt down on the brink of the South Spit. - -In this position, my face was within a few feet of the surface -of the quicksand. The sight of it so near me, still disturbed -at intervals by its hideous shivering fit, shook my nerves -for the moment. A horrible fancy that the dead woman might -appear on the scene of her suicide, to assist my search-- -an unutterable dread of seeing her rise through the heaving -surface of the sand, and point to the place--forced itself -into my mind, and turned me cold in the warm sunlight. -I own I closed my eyes at the moment when the point of the stick -first entered the quicksand. - -The instant afterwards, before the stick could have been submerged more -than a few inches, I was free from the hold of my own superstitious terror, -and was throbbing with excitement from head to foot. Sounding blindfold, -at my first attempt--at that first attempt I had sounded right! The stick -struck the chain. - -Taking a firm hold of the roots of the seaweed with my left hand, -I laid myself down over the brink, and felt with my right hand -under the overhanging edges of the rock. My right hand found -the chain. - -I drew it up without the slightest difficulty. And there was the japanned -tin case fastened to the end of it. - -The action of the water had so rusted the chain, that it was impossible -for me to unfasten it from the hasp which attached it to the case. -Putting the case between my knees and exerting my utmost strength, -I contrived to draw off the cover. Some white substance filled the whole -interior when I looked in. I put in my hand, and found it to be linen. - -In drawing out the linen, I also drew out a letter crumpled up with it. -After looking at the direction, and discovering that it bore my name, -I put the letter in my pocket, and completely removed the linen. -It came out in a thick roll, moulded, of course, to the shape of the case -in which it had been so long confined, and perfectly preserved from any injury -by the sea. - -I carried the linen to the dry sand of the beach, and there unrolled -and smoothed it out. There was no mistaking it as an article of dress. -It was a nightgown. - -The uppermost side, when I spread it out, presented to -view innumerable folds and creases, and nothing more. -I tried the undermost side, next--and instantly discovered -the smear of the paint from the door of Rachel's boudoir! - -My eyes remained riveted on the stain, and my mind took me back at a leap -from present to past. The very words of Sergeant Cuff recurred to me, -as if the man himself was at my side again, pointing to the unanswerable -inference which he drew from the smear on the door. - -"Find out whether there is any article of dress in this house -with the stain of paint on it. Find out who that dress belongs to. -Find out how the person can account for having been in the room, -and smeared the paint between midnight and three in the morning. -If the person can't satisfy you, you haven't far to look for the hand that -took the Diamond." - -One after another those words travelled over my memory, -repeating themselves again and again with a wearisome, -mechanical reiteration. I was roused from what felt like a -trance of many hours--from what was really, no doubt, the pause -of a few moments only--by a voice calling to me. I looked up, -and saw that Betteredge's patience had failed him at last. -He was just visible between the sandhills, returning to -the beach. - -The old man's appearance recalled me, the moment I perceived it, -to my sense of present things, and reminded me that the inquiry -which I had pursued thus far still remained incomplete. -I had discovered the smear on the nightgown. To whom did -the nightgown belong? - -My first impulse was to consult the letter in my pocket-- -the letter which I had found in the case. - -As I raised my hand to take it out, I remembered that there -was a shorter way to discovery than this. The nightgown -itself would reveal the truth, for, in all probability, -the nightgown was marked with its owner's name. - -I took it up from the sand, and looked for the mark. - -I found the mark, and read-- - -MY OWN NAME. - -There were the familiar letters which told me that the nightgown was mine. -I looked up from them. There was the sun; there were the glittering waters -of the bay; there was old Betteredge, advancing nearer and nearer to me. -I looked back again at the letters. My own name. Plainly confronting me-- -my own name. - -"If time, pains, and money can do it, I will lay my hand on the thief -who took the Moonstone."--I had left London, with those words on my lips. -I had penetrated the secret which the quicksand had kept from every other -living creature. And, on the unanswerable evidence of the paint-stain, I -had discovered Myself as the Thief. - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -I have not a word to say about my own sensations. - -My impression is that the shock inflicted on me completely -suspended my thinking and feeling power. I certainly could -not have known what I was about when Betteredge joined me-- -for I have it on his authority that I laughed, when he asked -what was the matter, and putting the nightgown into his hands, -told him to read the riddle for himself. - -Of what was said between us on the beach, I have not -the faintest recollection. The first place in which I can -now see myself again plainly is the plantation of firs. -Betteredge and I are walking back together to the house; -and Betteredge is telling me that I shall be able to face it, -and he will be able to face it, when we have had a glass -of grog. - - - -The scene shifts from the plantation, to Betteredge's little -sitting-room. My resolution not to enter Rachel's house is forgotten. -I feel gratefully the coolness and shadiness and quiet of the room. -I drink the grog (a perfectly new luxury to me, at that time of day), -which my good old friend mixes with icy-cold water from the well. -Under any other circumstances, the drink would simply stupefy me. -As things are, it strings up my nerves. I begin to "face it," -as Betteredge has predicted. And Betteredge, on his side, begins to -"face it," too. - -The picture which I am now presenting of myself, will, I suspect, -be thought a very strange one, to say the least of it. -Placed in a situation which may, I think, be described as entirely -without parallel, what is the first proceeding to which I resort? -Do I seclude myself from all human society? Do I set my mind -to analyse the abominable impossibility which, nevertheless, -confronts me as an undeniable fact? Do I hurry back to London -by the first train to consult the highest authorities, -and to set a searching inquiry on foot immediately? -No. I accept the shelter of a house which I had resolved -never to degrade myself by entering again; and I sit, -tippling spirits and water in the company of an old servant, -at ten o'clock in the morning. Is this the conduct that might -have been expected from a man placed in my horrible position? -I can only answer that the sight of old Betteredge's familiar -face was an inexpressible comfort to me, and that the drinking -of old Betteredge's grog helped me, as I believe nothing else -would have helped me, in the state of complete bodily and mental -prostration into which I had fallen. I can only offer this -excuse for myself; and I can only admire that invariable -preservation of dignity, and that strictly logical consistency -of conduct which distinguish every man and woman who may read -these lines, in every emergency of their lives from the cradle to -the grave. - -"Now, Mr. Franklin, there's one thing certain, at any rate," -said Betteredge, throwing the nightgown down on the table between us, -and pointing to it as if it was a living creature that could hear him. -"HE'S a liar, to begin with." - -This comforting view of the matter was not the view that presented -itself to my mind. - -"I am as innocent of all knowledge of having taken the Diamond as you are," -I said. "But there is the witness against me! The paint on the nightgown, -and the name on the nightgown are facts." - -Betteredge lifted my glass, and put it persuasively into my hand. - -"Facts?" he repeated. "Take a drop more grog, Mr. Franklin, -and you'll get over the weakness of believing in facts! -Foul play, sir!" he continued, dropping his voice confidentially. -"That is how I read the riddle. Foul play somewhere--and you -and I must find it out. Was there nothing else in the tin case, -when you put your hand into it?" - -The question instantly reminded me of the letter in my pocket. -I took it out, and opened it. It was a letter of many pages, -closely written. I looked impatiently for the signature at the end. -"Rosanna Spearman." - -As I read the name, a sudden remembrance illuminated my mind, -and a sudden suspicion rose out of the new light. - -"Stop!" I exclaimed. "Rosanna Spearman came to my aunt out -of a reformatory? Rosanna Spearman had once been a thief?" - -"There's no denying that, Mr. Franklin. What of it now, -if you please?" - -"What of it now? How do we know she may not have stolen the Diamond -after all? How do we know she may not have smeared my nightgown -purposely with the paint?" - -Betteredge laid his hand on my arm, and stopped me before I could -say any more. - -"You will be cleared of this, Mr. Franklin, beyond all doubt. -But I hope you won't be cleared in THAT way. See what -the letter says, sir. In justice to the girl's memory, -see what it says." - -I felt the earnestness with which he spoke--felt it as a friendly rebuke -to me. "You shall form your own judgment on her letter," I said. -"I will read it out." - -I began--and read these lines: - -"Sir--I have something to own to you. A confession which means much misery, -may sometimes be made in very few words. This confession can be made in -three words. I love you. - - - -The letter dropped from my hand. I looked at Betteredge. -"In the name of Heaven," I said, "what does it mean?" - -He seemed to shrink from answering the question. - -"You and Limping Lucy were alone together this morning, sir, he said. -"Did she say nothing about Rosanna Spearman?" - -"She never even mentioned Rosanna Spearman's name." - -"Please to go back to the letter, Mr. Franklin. I tell you plainly, -I can't find it in my heart to distress you, after what you have had to -bear already. Let her speak for herself, sir. And get on with your grog. -For your own sake, get on with your grog." - -I resumed the reading of the letter. - - - -"It would be very disgraceful to me to tell you this, if I was a living woman -when you read it. I shall be dead and gone, sir, when you find my letter. -It is that which makes me bold. Not even my grave will be left to tell -of me. I may own the truth--with the quicksand waiting to hide me when the -words are written. - -"Besides, you will find your nightgown in my hiding-place, -with the smear of the paint on it; and you will want to know -how it came to be hidden by me? and why I said nothing to you -about it in my life-time? I have only one reason to give. -I did these strange things, because I loved you. - -"I won't trouble you with much about myself, or my life, -before you came to my lady's house. Lady Verinder took me -out of a reformatory. I had gone to the reformatory from -the prison. I was put in the prison, because I was a thief. -I was a thief, because my mother went on the streets when I -was quite a little girl. My mother went on the streets, -because the gentleman who was my father deserted her. -There is no need to tell such a common story as this, at any length. -It is told quite often enough in the newspapers. - -"Lady Verinder was very kind to me, and Mr. Betteredge was very kind to me. -Those two, and the matron at the reformatory, are the only good people -I have ever met with in all my life. I might have got on in my place-- -not happily--but I might have got on, if you had not come visiting. -I don't blame you, sir. It's my fault--all my fault. - -"Do you remember when you came out on us from among the sand hills, -that morning, looking for Mr. Betteredge? You were like a -prince in a fairy-story. You were like a lover in a dream. -You were the most adorable human creature I had ever seen. -Something that felt like the happy life I had never led yet, -leapt up in me at the instant I set eyes on you. Don't laugh -at this if you can help it. Oh, if I could only make you feel how -serious it is to ME! - -"I went back to the house, and wrote your name and mine in my work-box, -and drew a true lovers' knot under them. Then, some devil--no, I ought -to say some good angel--whispered to me, "Go and look in the glass." -The glass told me--never mind what. I was too foolish to take the warning. -I went on getting fonder and fonder of you, just as if I was a lady in your -own rank of life, and the most beautiful creature your eyes ever rested on. -I tried--oh, dear, how I tried--to get you to look at me. If you had -known how I used to cry at night with the misery and the mortification -of your never taking any notice of me, you would have pitied me perhaps, -and have given me a look now and then to live on. - -"It would have been no very kind look, perhaps, if you had known how I hated -Miss Rachel. I believe I found out you were in love with her, before you knew -it yourself. She used to give you roses to wear in your button-hole. Ah, -Mr. Franklin, you wore my roses oftener than either you or she thought! -The only comfort I had at that time, was putting my rose secretly in your -glass of water, in place of hers--and then throwing her rose away. - -"If she had been really as pretty as you thought her, -I might have borne it better. No; I believe I should have -been more spiteful against her still. Suppose you put Miss -Rachel into a servant's dress, and took her ornaments off? -I don't know what is the use of my writing in this way. -It can't be denied that she had a bad figure; she was too thin. -But who can tell what the men like? And young ladies may -behave in a manner which would cost a servant her place. -It's no business of mine. I can't expect you to read -my letter, if I write it in this way. But it does stir -one up to hear Miss Rachel called pretty, when one knows -all the time that it's her dress does it, and her confidence -in herself. - -"Try not to lose patience with me, sir. I will get on as fast as I can -to the time which is sure to interest you--the time when the Diamond -was lost. - -"But there is one thing which I have got it on my mind to tell you first. - -"My life was not a very hard life to bear, while I was a thief. -It was only when they had taught me at the reformatory to feel -my own degradation, and to try for better things, that the days -grew long and weary. Thoughts of the future forced themselves -on me now. I felt the dreadful reproach that honest people-- -even the kindest of honest people--were to me in themselves. -A heart-breaking sensation of loneliness kept with me, go where -I might, and do what I might, and see what persons I might. -It was my duty, I know, to try and get on with my fellow-servants -in my new place. Somehow, I couldn't make friends with them. -They looked (or I thought they looked) as if they suspected -what I had been. I don't regret, far from it, having been -roused to make the effort to be a reformed woman--but, indeed, -indeed it was a weary life. You had come across it like a beam -of sunshine at first--and then you too failed me. I was mad -enough to love you; and I couldn't even attract your notice. -There was great misery--there really was great misery -in that. - -"Now I am coming to what I wanted to tell you. In those days -of bitterness, I went two or three times, when it was my turn to -go out, to my favourite place--the beach above the Shivering Sand. -And I said to myself, "I think it will end here. When I can bear -it no longer, I think it will end here." You will understand, sir, -that the place had laid a kind of spell on me before you came. -I had always had a notion that something would happen to me at -the quicksand. But I had never looked at it, with the thought -of its being the means of my making away with myself, till the time -came of which I am now writing. Then I did think that here was -a place which would end all my troubles for me in a moment or two-- -and hide me for ever afterwards. - -"This is all I have to say about myself, reckoning from the morning -when I first saw you, to the morning when the alarm was raised -in the house that the Diamond was lost. - -"I was so aggravated by the foolish talk among the women servants, -all wondering who was to be suspected first; and I was so angry with you -(knowing no better at that time) for the pains you took in hunting for -the jewel, and sending for the police, that I kept as much as possible away -by myself, until later in the day, when the officer from Frizinghall came -to the house. - -"Mr. Seegrave began, as you may remember, by setting a guard -on the women's bedrooms; and the women all followed him up-stairs -in a rage, to know what he meant by the insult he had put on them. -I went with the rest, because if I had done anything different -from the rest, Mr. Seegrave was the sort of man who would have -suspected me directly. We found him in Miss Rachel's room. -He told us he wouldn't have a lot of women there; -and he pointed to the smear on the painted door, and said -some of our petticoats had done the mischief, and sent us all -down-stairs again. - -"After leaving Miss Rachel's room, I stopped a moment on one of the landings, -by myself, to see if I had got the paint-stain by any chance on MY gown. -Penelope Betteredge (the only one of the women with whom I was on -friendly terms) passed, and noticed what I was about. - -"'You needn't trouble yourself, Rosanna,' she said. -'The paint on Miss Rachel's door has been dry for hours. -If Mr. Seegrave hadn't set a watch on our bedrooms, -I might have told him as much. I don't know what you think-- -I was never so insulted before in my life!' - -"Penelope was a hot-tempered girl. I quieted her, and brought her back -to what she had said about the paint on the door having been dry for hours. - -"'How do you know that?' I asked. - -"'I was with Miss Rachel, and Mr. Franklin, all yesterday morning,' -Penelope said, 'mixing the colours, while they finished the door. -I heard Miss Rachel ask whether the door would be dry that evening, -in time for the birthday company to see it. And Mr. Franklin shook -his head, and said it wouldn't be dry in less than twelve hours. -It was long past luncheon-time--it was three o'clock before they had done. -What does your arithmetic say, Rosanna? Mine says the door was dry by -three this morning.' - -"'Did some of the ladies go up-stairs yesterday evening to see it?' -I asked. 'I thought I heard Miss Rachel warning them to keep clear -of the door.' - -"'None of the ladies made the smear,' Penelope answered. -'I left Miss Rachel in bed at twelve last night. And I noticed -the door, and there was nothing wrong with it then.' - -"'Oughtn't you to mention this to Mr. Seegrave, Penelope?' - -"'I wouldn't say a word to help Mr. Seegrave for anything that could -be offered to me!' - -"She went to her work, and I went to mine." - -"My work, sir, was to make your bed, and to put your room tidy. -It was the happiest hour I had in the whole day. I used -to kiss the pillow on which your head had rested all night. -No matter who has done it since, you have never had your -clothes folded as nicely as I folded them for you. -Of all the little knick-knacks in your dressing-case, -there wasn't one that had so much as a speck on it. -You never noticed it, any more than you noticed me. I beg -your pardon; I am forgetting myself. I will make haste, and go -on again. - -"Well, I went in that morning to do my work in your room. -There was your nightgown tossed across the bed, just as you -had thrown it off. I took it up to fold it--and I saw the stain -of the paint from Miss Rachel's door! - -"I was so startled by the discovery that I ran out with the nightgown in -my hand, and made for the back stairs, and locked myself into my own room, -to look at it in a place where nobody could intrude and interrupt me. - -"As soon as I got my breath again, I called to mind my talk with Penelope, -and I said to myself, "Here's the proof that he was in Miss Rachel's -sitting-room between twelve last night, and three this morning!" - -"I shall not tell you in plain words what was the first -suspicion that crossed my mind, when I had made that discovery. -You would only be angry--and, if you were angry, you might tear -my letter up and read no more of it. - -"Let it be enough, if you please, to say only this. -After thinking it over to the best of my ability, I made it out -that the thing wasn't likely, for a reason that I will tell you. -If you had been in Miss Rachel's sitting-room, at that time -of night, with Miss Rachel's knowledge (and if you had been -foolish enough to forget to take care of the wet door) SHE would -have reminded you--SHE would never have let you carry away such -a witness against her, as the witness I was looking at now! -At the same time, I own I was not completely certain in my -own mind that I had proved my own suspicion to be wrong. -You will not have forgotten that I have owned to hating Miss Rachel. -Try to think, if you can, that there was a little of that hatred -in all this. It ended in my determining to keep the nightgown, -and to wait, and watch, and see what use I might make of it. -At that time, please to remember, not the ghost of an idea -entered my head that you had stolen the Diamond." - - - -There, I broke off in the reading of the letter for the second time. - -I had read those portions of the miserable woman's confession -which related to myself, with unaffected surprise, and, I can -honestly add, with sincere distress. I had regretted, -truly regretted, the aspersion which I had thoughtlessly -cast on her memory, before I had seen a line of her letter. -But when I had advanced as far as the passage which is quoted above, -I own I felt my mind growing bitterer and bitterer against -Rosanna Spearman as I went on. "Read the rest for yourself," -I said, handing the letter to Betteredge across the table. -"If there is anything in it that I must look at, you can tell me -as you go on." - -"I understand you, Mr. Franklin," he answered. "It's natural, sir, in YOU. -And, God help us all!" he added, in a lower tone, "it's no less natural -in HER." - -I proceed to copy the continuation of the letter from the original, -in my own possession:-- - - - -"Having determined to keep the nightgown, and to see what use my love, -or my revenge (I hardly know which) could turn it to in the future, -the next thing to discover was how to keep it without the risk of being -found out. - -"There was only one way--to make another nightgown exactly like it, -before Saturday came, and brought the laundry-woman and her inventory -to the house - -"I was afraid to put it off till next day (the Friday); -being in doubt lest some accident might happen in the interval. -I determined to make the new nightgown on that same day -(the Thursday), while I could count, if I played my cards properly, -on having my time to myself. The first thing to do -(after locking up your nightgown in my drawer) was to go -back to your bed-room--not so much to put it to rights -(Penelope would have done that for me, if I had asked her) -as to find out whether you had smeared off any of the paint-stain -from your nightgown, on the bed, or on any piece of furniture in -the room. - -"I examined everything narrowly, and at last, I found a few -streaks of the paint on the inside of your dressing-gown-- -not the linen dressing-gown you usually wore in that summer season, -but a flannel dressing-gown which you had with you also. -I suppose you felt chilly after walking to and fro in nothing -but your nightdress, and put on the warmest thing you could find. -At any rate, there were the stains, just visible, on the inside -of the dressing-gown. I easily got rid of these by scraping -away the stuff of the flannel. This done, the only proof left -against you was the proof locked up in my drawer. - -"I had just finished your room when I was sent for to be questioned -by Mr. Seegrave, along with the rest of the servants. Next came -the examination of all our boxes. And then followed the most extraordinary -event of the day--to ME--since I had found the paint on your nightgown. -This event came out of the second questioning of Penelope Betteredge -by Superintendent Seegrave. - -"Penelope returned to us quite beside herself with rage -at the manner in which Mr. Seegrave had treated her. -He had hinted, beyond the possibility of mistaking him, -that he suspected her of being the thief. We were all equally -astonished at hearing this, and we all asked, Why? - -"'Because the Diamond was in Miss Rachel's sitting-room," Penelope answered. -"And because I was the last person in the sitting-room at night!" - -"Almost before the words had left her lips, I remembered that another person -had been in the sitting-room later than Penelope. That person was yourself. -My head whirled round, and my thoughts were in dreadful confusion. -In the midst of it all, something in my mind whispered to me that the smear on -your nightgown might have a meaning entirely different to the meaning which I -had given to it up to that time. "If the last person who was in the room is -the person to be suspected," I thought to myself, "the thief is not Penelope, -but Mr. Franklin Blake!" - -"In the case of any other gentleman, I believe I should have been -ashamed of suspecting him of theft, almost as soon as the suspicion -had passed through my mind. - -"But the bare thought that YOU had let yourself down to my level, -and that I, in possessing myself of your nightgown, had also possessed -myself of the means of shielding you from being discovered, -and disgraced for life--I say, sir, the bare thought of this seemed -to open such a chance before me of winning your good will, that I -passed blindfold, as one may say, from suspecting to believing. -I made up my mind, on the spot, that you had shown yourself the busiest -of anybody in fetching the police, as a blind to deceive us all; -and that the hand which had taken Miss Rachel's jewel could by no -possibility be any other hand than yours. - -"The excitement of this new discovery of mine must, I think, -have turned my head for a while. I felt such a devouring eagerness -to see you--to try you with a word or two about the Diamond, -and to MAKE you look at me, and speak to me, in that way-- -that I put my hair tidy, and made myself as nice as I could, -and went to you boldly in the library where I knew you -were writing. - -"You had left one of your rings up-stairs, which made -as good an excuse for my intrusion as I could have desired. -But, oh, sir! if you have ever loved, you will understand how it -was that all my courage cooled, when I walked into the room, -and found myself in your presence. And then, you looked up -at me so coldly, and you thanked me for finding your ring -in such an indifferent manner, that my knees trembled under me, -and I felt as if I should drop on the floor at your feet. -When you had thanked me, you looked back, if you remember, -at your writing. I was so mortified at being treated -in this way, that I plucked up spirit enough to speak. -I said, 'This is a strange thing about the Diamond, sir.' -And you looked up again, and said, 'Yes, it is!' -You spoke civilly (I can't deny that); but still you kept -a distance--a cruel distance between us. Believing, as I did, -that you had got the lost Diamond hidden about you, while you -were speaking, your coolness so provoked me that I got -bold enough, in the heat of the moment, to give you a hint. -I said, 'They will never find the Diamond, sir, will they? -No! nor the person who took it--I'll answer for that.' -I nodded, and smiled at you, as much as to say, 'I know!' -THIS time, you looked up at me with something like interest -in your eyes; and I felt that a few more words on your side -and mine might bring out the truth. Just at that moment, -Mr. Betteredge spoilt it all by coming to the door. -I knew his footstep, and I also knew that it was against -his rules for me to be in the library at that time of day-- -let alone being there along with you. I had only just time to get -out of my own accord, before he could come in and tell me to go. -I was angry and disappointed; but I was not entirely without -hope for all that. The ice, you see, was broken between us-- -and I thought I would take care, on the next occasion, -that Mr. Betteredge was out of the way. - -"When I got back to the servants' hall, the bell was going for our dinner. -Afternoon already! and the materials for making the new nightgown were -still to be got! There was but one chance of getting them. I shammed ill -at dinner; and so secured the whole of the interval from then till tea-time -to my own use. - -"What I was about, while the household believed me to be lying down -in my own room; and how I spent the night, after shamming ill again at -tea-time, and having been sent up to bed, there is no need to tell you. -Sergeant Cuff discovered that much, if he discovered nothing more. -And I can guess how. I was detected (though I kept my veil down) -in the draper's shop at Frizinghall. There was a glass in front of me, -at the counter where I was buying the longcloth; and--in that glass-- -I saw one of the shopmen point to my shoulder and whisper to another. -At night again, when I was secretly at work, locked into my room, -I heard the breathing of the women servants who suspected me, outside my -door. - -"It didn't matter then; it doesn't matter now. On the Friday morning, -hours before Sergeant Cuff entered the house, there was the new nightgown-- -to make up your number in place of the nightgown that I had got-- -made, wrung out, dried, ironed, marked, and folded as the laundry woman -folded all the others, safe in your drawer. There was no fear (if the linen -in the house was examined) of the newness of the nightgown betraying me. -All your underclothing had been renewed, when you came to our house-- -I suppose on your return home from foreign parts. - -"The next thing was the arrival of Sergeant Cuff; and the next great surprise -was the announcement of what HE thought about the smear on the door. - -"I had believed you to be guilty (as I have owned), more -because I wanted you to be guilty than for any other reason. -And now, the Sergeant had come round by a totally different way -to the same conclusion (respecting the nightgown) as mine! -And I had got the dress that was the only proof against you! -And not a living creature knew it--yourself included! I am afraid -to tell you how I felt when I called these things to mind--you would -hate my memory for ever afterwards." - - - -At that place, Betteredge looked up from the letter. - -"Not a glimmer of light so far, Mr. Franklin," said the old man, -taking off his heavy tortoiseshell spectacles, and pushing -Rosanna Spearman's confession a little away from him. -"Have you come to any conclusion, sir, in your own mind, while I -have been reading?" - -"Finish the letter first, Betteredge; there may be something to enlighten us -at the end of it. I shall have a word or two to say to you after that." - -"Very good, sir. I'll just rest my eyes, and then I'll go on again. -In the meantime, Mr. Franklin--I don't want to hurry you--but would you -mind telling me, in one word, whether you see your way out of this dreadful -mess yet?" - -"I see my way back to London," I said, "to consult Mr. Bruff. -If he can't help me----" - -"Yes, sir?" - -"And if the Sergeant won't leave his retirement at Dorking----" - -"He won't, Mr. Franklin!" - -"Then, Betteredge--as far as I can see now--I am at the end of my resources. -After Mr. Bruff and the Sergeant, I don't know of a living creature who can be -of the slightest use to me." - -As the words passed my lips, some person outside knocked at the door -of the room. - -Betteredge looked surprised as well as annoyed by the interruption. - -"Come in," he called out, irritably, "whoever you are!" - -The door opened, and there entered to us, quietly, the most -remarkable-looking man that I had ever seen. Judging him -by his figure and his movements, he was still young. -Judging him by his face, and comparing him with Betteredge, -he looked the elder of the two. His complexion was of a -gipsy darkness; his fleshless cheeks had fallen into deep hollows, -over which the bone projected like a pent-house. His nose -presented the fine shape and modelling so often found among -the ancient people of the East, so seldom visible among the newer -races of the West. His forehead rose high and straight -from the brow. His marks and wrinkles were innumerable. -From this strange face, eyes, stranger still, of the softest brown-- -eyes dreamy and mournful, and deeply sunk in their orbits-- -looked out at you, and (in my case, at least) took your attention -captive at their will. Add to this a quantity of thick -closely-curling hair, which, by some freak of Nature, had lost -its colour in the most startlingly partial and capricious manner. -Over the top of his head it was still of the deep black -which was its natural colour. Round the sides of his head-- -without the slightest gradation of grey to break the force -of the extraordinary contrast--it had turned completely white. -The line between the two colours preserved no sort of regularity. -At one place, the white hair ran up into the black; -at another, the black hair ran down into the white. -I looked at the man with a curiosity which, I am ashamed to say, -I found it quite impossible to control. His soft brown eyes -looked back at me gently; and he met my involuntary rudeness -in staring at him, with an apology which I was conscious that I had -not deserved. - -"I beg your pardon," he said. "I had no idea that Mr. Betteredge -was engaged." He took a slip of paper from his pocket, -and handed it to Betteredge. "The list for next week," he said. -His eyes just rested on me again--and he left the room as quietly -as he had entered it. - -"Who is that?" I asked. - -"Mr. Candy's assistant," said Betteredge. "By-the-bye, Mr. Franklin, -you will be sorry to hear that the little doctor has never recovered -that illness he caught, going home from the birthday dinner. -He's pretty well in health; but he lost his memory in the fever, -and he has never recovered more than the wreck of it since. -The work all falls on his assistant. Not much of it now, except among -the poor. THEY can't help themselves, you know. THEY must put -up with the man with the piebald hair, and the gipsy complexion-- -or they would get no doctoring at all." - -"You don't seem to like him, Betteredge?" - -"Nobody likes him, sir." - -"Why is he so unpopular?" - -"Well, Mr. Franklin, his appearance is against him, to begin with. And then -there's a story that Mr. Candy took him with a very doubtful character. -Nobody knows who he is--and he hasn't a friend in the place. How can you -expect one to like him, after that?" - -"Quite impossible, of course! May I ask what he wanted with you, -when he gave you that bit of paper?" - -"Only to bring me the weekly list of the sick people -about here, sir, who stand in need of a little wine. -My lady always had a regular distribution of good sound port -and sherry among the infirm poor; and Miss Rachel wishes the custom -to be kept up. Times have changed! times have changed! -I remember when Mr. Candy himself brought the list to my mistress. -Now it's Mr. Candy's assistant who brings the list to me. -I'll go on with the letter, if you will allow me, sir," -said Betteredge, drawing Rosanna Spearman's confession back to him. -"It isn't lively reading, I grant you. But, there! it -keeps me from getting sour with thinking of the past." -He put on his spectacles, and wagged his head gloomily. -"There's a bottom of good sense, Mr. Franklin, in our conduct -to our mothers, when they first start us on the journey of life. -We are all of us more or less unwilling to be brought into the world. -And we are all of us right." - -Mr. Candy's assistant had produced too strong an impression -on me to be immediately dismissed from my thoughts. I passed -over the last unanswerable utterance of the Betteredge philosophy; -and returned to the subject of the man with the piebald hair. - -"What is his name?" I asked. - -"As ugly a name as need be," Betteredge answered gruffly. -"Ezra Jennings." - - - -CHAPTER V - - -Having told me the name of Mr. Candy's assistant, Betteredge appeared -to think that we had wasted enough of our time on an insignificant subject. -He resumed the perusal of Rosanna Spearman's letter. - -On my side, I sat at the window, waiting until he had done. -Little by little, the impression produced on me by Ezra Jennings-- -it seemed perfectly unaccountable, in such a situation as mine, -that any human being should have produced an impression on me at all!-- -faded from my mind. My thoughts flowed back into their former channel. -Once more, I forced myself to look my own incredible position resolutely -in the face. Once more, I reviewed in my own mind the course -which I had at last summoned composure enough to plan out for -the future. - -To go back to London that day; to put the whole case before Mr. Bruff; -and, last and most important, to obtain (no matter by what means -or at what sacrifice) a personal interview with Rachel--this was my -plan of action, so far as I was capable of forming it at the time. -There was more than an hour still to spare before the train started. -And there was the bare chance that Betteredge might discover -something in the unread portion of Rosanna Spearman's letter, -which it might be useful for me to know before I left the house -in which the Diamond had been lost. For that chance I was -now waiting. - - - -The letter ended in these terms: - - - -"You have no need to be angry, Mr. Franklin, even if I did feel -some little triumph at knowing that I held all your prospects -in life in my own hands. Anxieties and fears soon came back to me. -With the view Sergeant Cuff took of the loss of the Diamond, -he would be sure to end in examining our linen and our dresses. -There was no place in my room--there was no place in the house-- -which I could feel satisfied would be safe from him. -How to hide the nightgown so that not even the Sergeant -could find it? and how to do that without losing one moment -of precious time?--these were not easy questions to answer. -My uncertainties ended in my taking a way that may make you laugh. -I undressed, and put the nightgown on me. You had worn it-- -and I had another little moment of pleasure in wearing it after -you. - -"The next news that reached us in the servants' hall showed -that I had not made sure of the nightgown a moment too soon. -Sergeant Cuff wanted to see the washing-book. - -"I found it, and took it to him in my lady's sitting-room. -The Sergeant and I had come across each other more than once -in former days. I was certain he would know me again--and I -was NOT certain of what he might do when he found me employed -as servant in a house in which a valuable jewel had been lost. -In this suspense, I felt it would be a relief to me to get -the meeting between us over, and to know the worst of it -at once. - -"He looked at me as if I was a stranger, when I handed him -the washing-book; and he was very specially polite in thanking -me for bringing it. I thought those were both bad signs. -There was no knowing what he might say of me behind my back; -there was no knowing how soon I might not find myself taken -in custody on suspicion, and searched. It was then time for your -return from seeing Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite off by the railway; -and I went to your favourite walk in the shrubbery, to try -for another chance of speaking to you--the last chance, for all I -knew to the contrary, that I might have. - -"You never appeared; and, what was worse still, Mr. Betteredge -and Sergeant Cuff passed by the place where I was hiding-- -and the Sergeant saw me. - -"I had no choice, after that, but to return to my proper place -and my proper work, before more disasters happened to me. -Just as I was going to step across the path, you came back -from the railway. You were making straight for the shrubbery, -when you saw me--I am certain, sir, you saw me--and you turned away -as if I had got the plague, and went into the house.* - - -* NOTE: by Franklin Blake.--The writer is entirely mistaken, poor creature. -I never noticed her. My intention was certainly to have taken a turn in -the shrubbery. But, remembering at the same moment that my aunt might wish -to see me, after my return from the railway, I altered my mind, and went into -the house. - - -"I made the best of my way indoors again, returning by -the servants' entrance. There was nobody in the laundry-room -at that time; and I sat down there alone. I have told you already -of the thoughts which the Shivering Sand put into my head. -Those thoughts came back to me now. I wondered in myself -which it would be harder to do, if things went on in this manner-- -to bear Mr. Franklin Blake's indifference to me, or to jump -into the quicksand and end it for ever in that way? - -"It's useless to ask me to account for my own conduct, at this time. -I try--and I can't understand it myself. - -"Why didn't I stop you, when you avoided me in that cruel manner? -Why didn't I call out, 'Mr. Franklin, I have got something to say -to you; it concerns yourself, and you must, and shall, hear it?' -You were at my mercy--I had got the whip-hand of you, as they say. -And better than that, I had the means (if I could only make you trust me) -of being useful to you in the future. Of course, I never supposed that you-- -a gentleman--had stolen the Diamond for the mere pleasure of stealing it. -No. Penelope had heard Miss Rachel, and I had heard Mr. Betteredge, -talk about your extravagance and your debts. It was plain enough to me -that you had taken the Diamond to sell it, or pledge it, and so to get -the money of which you stood in need. Well! I could have told you -of a man in London who would have advanced a good large sum on the jewel, -and who would have asked no awkward questions about it either. - -"Why didn't I speak to you! why didn't I speak to you! - -"I wonder whether the risks and difficulties of keeping -the nightgown were as much as I could manage, without having -other risks and difficulties added to them? This might have been -the case with some women--but how could it be the case with me? -In the days when I was a thief, I had run fifty times greater risks, -and found my way out of difficulties to which THIS difficulty -was mere child's play. I had been apprenticed, as you may say, -to frauds and deceptions--some of them on such a grand scale, -and managed so cleverly, that they became famous, -and appeared in the newspapers. Was such a little thing -as the keeping of the nightgown likely to weigh on my spirits, -and to set my heart sinking within me, at the time when I ought -to have spoken to you? What nonsense to ask the question! -The thing couldn't be. - -"Where is the use of my dwelling in this way on my own folly? -The plain truth is plain enough, surely? Behind your back, -I loved you with all my heart and soul. Before your face-- -there's no denying it--I was frightened of you; -frightened of making you angry with me; frightened of what -you might say to me (though you HAD taken the Diamond) -if I presumed to tell you that I had found it out. -I had gone as near to it as I dared when I spoke to you -in the library. You had not turned your back on me then. -You had not started away from me as if I had got the plague. -I tried to provoke myself into feeling angry with you, -and to rouse up my courage in that way. No! I couldn't -feel anything but the misery and the mortification of it. -"You're a plain girl; you have got a crooked shoulder; you're only -a housemaid--what do you mean by attempting to speak to Me?" -You never uttered a word of that, Mr. Franklin; but you said it all -to me, nevertheless! Is such madness as this to be accounted for? -No. There is nothing to be done but to confess it, and let it -be. - -"I ask your pardon, once more, for this wandering of my pen. -There is no fear of its happening again. I am close at the -end now. - -"The first person who disturbed me by coming into the empty -room was Penelope. She had found out my secret long since, -and she had done her best to bring me to my senses--and done it -kindly too. - -"'Ah!' she said, 'I know why you're sitting here, and fretting, -all by yourself. The best thing that can happen for your advantage, -Rosanna, will be for Mr. Franklin's visit here to come to an end. -It's my belief that he won't be long now before he leaves the house." - -"In all my thoughts of you I had never thought of your going away. -I couldn't speak to Penelope. I could only look at her. - -"'I've just left Miss Rachel,' Penelope went on. -'And a hard matter I have had of it to put up with her temper. -She says the house is unbearable to her with the police in it; -and she's determined to speak to my lady this evening, -and to go to her Aunt Ablewhite to-morrow. If she does that, -Mr. Franklin will be the next to find a reason for going away, -you may depend on it!' - -"I recovered the use of my tongue at that. 'Do you mean to say -Mr. Franklin will go with her?' I asked. - -"'Only too gladly, if she would let him; but she won't. HE has -been made to feel her temper; HE is in her black books too-- -and that after having done all he can to help her, poor fellow! -No! no! If they don't make it up before to-morrow, you -will see Miss Rachel go one way, and Mr. Franklin another. -Where he may betake himself to I can't say. But he will never -stay here, Rosanna, after Miss Rachel has left us.' - -"I managed to master the despair I felt at the prospect of your going away. -To own the truth, I saw a little glimpse of hope for myself if there was -really a serious disagreement between Miss Rachel and you. 'Do you know,' -I asked, 'what the quarrel is between them?' - -"'It is all on Miss Rachel's side,' Penelope said. 'And, for anything I -know to the contrary, it's all Miss Rachel's temper, and nothing else. -I am loth to distress you, Rosanna; but don't run away with the notion -that Mr. Franklin is ever likely to quarrel with HER. He's a great deal too -fond of her for that!' - -"She had only just spoken those cruel words when there came a call to us -from Mr. Betteredge. All the indoor servants were to assemble in the hall. -And then we were to go in, one by one, and be questioned in Mr. Betteredge's -room by Sergeant Cuff. - -"It came to my turn to go in, after her ladyship's maid and the upper -housemaid had been questioned first. Sergeant Cuff's inquiries-- -though he wrapped them up very cunningly--soon showed me -that those two women (the bitterest enemies I had in the house) -had made their discoveries outside my door, on the Tuesday -afternoon, and again on the Thursday night. They had told -the Sergeant enough to open his eyes to some part of the truth. -He rightly believed me to have made a new nightgown secretly, -but he wrongly believed the paint-stained nightgown to be mine. -I felt satisfied of another thing, from what he said, -which it puzzled me to understand. He suspected me, of course, -of being concerned in the disappearance of the Diamond. -But, at the same time, he let me see--purposely, as I thought-- -that he did not consider me as the person chiefly answerable -for the loss of the jewel. He appeared to think that I -had been acting under the direction of somebody else. -Who that person might be, I couldn't guess then, and can't -guess now. - -"In this uncertainty, one thing was plain--that Sergeant Cuff -was miles away from knowing the whole truth. You were safe -as long as the nightgown was safe--and not a moment longer. - -"I quite despair of making you understand the distress and terror -which pressed upon me now. It was impossible for me to risk -wearing your nightgown any longer. I might find myself taken off, -at a moment's notice, to the police court at Frizinghall, -to be charged on suspicion, and searched accordingly. -While Sergeant Cuff still left me free, I had to choose--and at once-- -between destroying the nightgown, or hiding it in some safe place, -at some safe distance from the house. - -"If I had only been a little less fond of you, I think I -should have destroyed it. But oh! how could destroy the only -thing I had which proved that I had saved you from discovery? -If we did come to an explanation together, and if you suspected -me of having some bad motive, and denied it all, how could I win -upon you to trust me, unless I had the nightgown to produce? -Was it wronging you to believe, as I did and do still, -that you might hesitate to let a poor girl like me be -the sharer of your secret, and your accomplice in the theft -which your money-troubles had tempted you to commit? -Think of your cold behaviour to me, sir, and you will hardly -wonder at my unwillingness to destroy the only claim on -your confidence and your gratitude which it was my fortune -to possess. - -"I determined to hide it; and the place I fixed on was the place I knew best-- -the Shivering Sand. - -"As soon as the questioning was over, I made the first excuse that came -into my head, and got leave to go out for a breath of fresh air. -I went straight to Cobb's Hole, to Mr. Yolland's cottage. -His wife and daughter were the best friends I had. Don't suppose -I trusted them with your secret--I have trusted nobody. -All I wanted was to write this letter to you, and to have a safe -opportunity of taking the nightgown off me. Suspected as I was, -I could do neither of those things with any sort of security, -at the house. - -"And now I have nearly got through my long letter, writing it -alone in Lucy Yolland's bedroom. When it is done, I shall go -downstairs with the nightgown rolled up, and hidden under my cloak. -I shall find the means I want for keeping it safe and dry in its -hiding-place, among the litter of old things in Mrs. Yolland's kitchen. -And then I shall go to the Shivering Sand--don't be afraid of my letting -my footmarks betray me!--and hide the nightgown down in the sand, -where no living creature can find it without being first let into -the secret by myself. - -"And, when that's done, what then? - -"Then, Mr. Franklin, I shall have two reasons for making another -attempt to say the words to you which I have not said yet. -If you leave the house, as Penelope believes you will leave it, -and if I haven't spoken to you before that, I shall lose my -opportunity forever. That is one reason. Then, again, there is -the comforting knowledge--if my speaking does make you angry-- -that I have got the nightgown ready to plead my cause for me -as nothing else can. That is my other reason. If these two -together don't harden my heart against the coldness which has -hitherto frozen it up (I mean the coldness of your treatment -of me), there will be the end of my efforts--and the end of -my life. - -"Yes. If I miss my next opportunity--if you are as cruel -as ever, and if I feel it again as I have felt it already-- -good-bye to the world which has grudged me the happiness that it -gives to others. Good-bye to life, which nothing but a little -kindness from you can ever make pleasurable to me again. -Don't blame yourself, sir, if it ends in this way. But try-- -do try--to feel some forgiving sorrow for me! I shall take -care that you find out what I have done for you, when I am past -telling you of it myself. Will you say something kind of me then-- -in the same gentle way that you have when you speak to Miss Rachel? -If you do that, and if there are such things as ghosts, -I believe my ghost will hear it, and tremble with the pleasure -of it. - -"It's time I left off. I am making myself cry. How am I to see my way -to the hiding-place if I let these useless tears come and blind me? - -"Besides, why should I look at the gloomy side? Why not believe, -while I can, that it will end well after all? I may find you in a good -humour to-night--or, if not, I may succeed better to-morrow morning. -I sha'n't improve my plain face by fretting--shall I? Who knows but I -may have filled all these weary long pages of paper for nothing? -They will go, for safety's sake (never mind now for what other reason) -into the hiding-place along with the nightgown. It has been hard, -hard work writing my letter. Oh! if we only end in understanding each other, -how I shall enjoy tearing it up! - -"I beg to remain, sir, your true lover and humble servant, - -"ROSANNA SPEARMAN." - - - -The reading of the letter was completed by Betteredge in silence. -After carefully putting it back in the envelope, he sat thinking, -with his head bowed down, and his eyes on the ground. - -"Betteredge," I said, "is there any hint to guide me at the end -of the letter?" - -He looked up slowly, with a heavy sigh. - -"There is nothing to guide you, Mr. Franklin," he answered. -"If you take my advice you will keep the letter in the cover -till these present anxieties of yours have come to an end. -It will sorely distress you, whenever you read it. Don't read -it now." - -I put the letter away in my pocket-book. - -A glance back at the sixteenth and seventeenth chapters -of Betteredge's Narrative will show that there really -was a reason for my thus sparing myself, at a time when my -fortitude had been already cruelly tried. Twice over, -the unhappy woman had made her last attempt to speak to me. -And twice over, it had been my misfortune (God knows -how innocently!) to repel the advances she had made to me. -On the Friday night, as Betteredge truly describes it, -she had found me alone at the billiard-table. Her manner and -language suggested to me and would have suggested to any man, -under the circumstances--that she was about to confess a guilty -knowledge of the disappearance of the Diamond. For her own sake, -I had purposely shown no special interest in what was coming; -for her own sake, I had purposely looked at the billiard-balls, -instead of looking at HER--and what had been the result? -I had sent her away from me, wounded to the heart! -On the Saturday again--on the day when she must have foreseen, -after what Penelope had told her, that my departure was close -at hand--the same fatality still pursued us. She had once -more attempted to meet me in the shrubbery walk, and she had -found me there in company with Betteredge and Sergeant Cuff. -In her hearing, the Sergeant, with his own underhand object -in view, had appealed to my interest in Rosanna Spearman. -Again for the poor creature's own sake, I had met -the police-officer with a flat denial, and had declared-- -loudly declared, so that she might hear me too--that I felt -"no interest whatever in Rosanna Spearman." At those words, -solely designed to warn her against attempting to gain my private ear, -she had turned away and left the place: cautioned of her danger, -as I then believed; self-doomed to destruction, as I know now. -From that point, I have already traced the succession of events -which led me to the astounding discovery at the quicksand. -The retrospect is now complete. I may leave the miserable -story of Rosanna Spearman--to which, even at this distance -of time, I cannot revert without a pang of distress-- -to suggest for itself all that is here purposely left unsaid. -I may pass from the suicide at the Shivering Sand, with its -strange and terrible influence on my present position and -future prospects, to interests which concern the living people -of this narrative, and to events which were already paving my -way for the slow and toilsome journey from the darkness to the -light. - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -I walked to the railway station accompanied, it is needless to say, -by Gabriel Betteredge. I had the letter in my pocket, and the nightgown -safely packed in a little bag--both to be submitted, before I slept -that night, to the investigation of Mr. Bruff. - -We left the house in silence. For the first time in my experience of him, -I found old Betteredge in my company without a word to say to me. -Having something to say on my side, I opened the conversation as soon as we -were clear of the lodge gates. - -"Before I go to London," I began, "I have two questions to ask you. -They relate to myself, and I believe they will rather surprise you." - -"If they will put that poor creature's letter out of my head, -Mr. Franklin, they may do anything else they like with me. -Please to begin surprising me, sir, as soon as you can." - -"My first question, Betteredge, is this. Was I drunk on the night -of Rachel's Birthday?" - -"YOU drunk!" exclaimed the old man. "Why it's the great defect -of your character, Mr. Franklin that you only drink with your dinner, -and never touch a drop of liquor afterwards!" - -"But the birthday was a special occasion. I might have abandoned -my regular habits, on that night of all others." - -Betteredge considered for a moment. - -"You did go out of your habits, sir," he said. "And I'll tell you how. -You looked wretchedly ill--and we persuaded you to have a drop of brandy -and water to cheer you up a little." - -"I am not used to brandy and water. It is quite possible----" - -"Wait a bit, Mr. Franklin. I knew you were not used, too. I poured you out -half a wineglass-full of our fifty year old Cognac; and (more shame for me!) -I drowned that noble liquor in nigh on a tumbler-full of cold water. -A child couldn't have got drunk on it--let alone a grown man!" - -I knew I could depend on his memory, in a matter of this kind. -It was plainly impossible that I could have been intoxicated. -I passed on to the second question. - -"Before I was sent abroad, Betteredge, you saw a great deal -of me when I was a boy? Now tell me plainly, do you remember -anything strange of me, after I had gone to bed at night? -Did you ever discover me walking in my sleep?" - -Betteredge stopped, looked at me for a moment, nodded his head, -and walked on again. - -"I see your drift now, Mr. Franklin!" he said "You're trying to account -for how you got the paint on your nightgown, without knowing it yourself. -It won't do, sir. You're miles away still from getting at the truth. -Walk in your sleep? You never did such a thing in your life!" - -Here again, I felt that Betteredge must be right. Neither at -home nor abroad had my life ever been of the solitary sort. -If I had been a sleep-walker, there were hundreds on hundreds -of people who must have discovered me, and who, in the interest -of my own safety, would have warned me of the habit, and have -taken precautions to restrain it. - -Still, admitting all this, I clung--with an obstinacy which -was surely natural and excusable, under the circumstances-- -to one or other of the only two explanations that I could see -which accounted for the unendurable position in which I then stood. -Observing that I was not yet satisfied, Betteredge shrewdly -adverted to certain later events in the history of the Moonstone; -and scattered both my theories to the wind at once and -for ever. - -"Let's try it another way, sir," he said. "Keep your own opinion, -and see how far it will take you towards finding out the truth. -If we are to believe the nightgown--which I don't for one-- -you not only smeared off the paint from the door, without knowing it, -but you also took the Diamond without knowing it. Is that right, -so far?" - -"Quite right. Go on." - -"Very good, sir. We'll say you were drunk, or walking in your sleep, -when you took the jewel. That accounts for the night and morning, -after the birthday. But how does it account for what has happened -since that time? The Diamond has been taken to London, since that time. -The Diamond has been pledged to Mr. Luker, since that time. -Did you do those two things, without knowing it, too? Were you drunk -when I saw you off in the pony-chaise on that Saturday evening? -And did you walk in your sleep to Mr. Luker's, when the train had brought -you to your journey's end? Excuse me for saying it, Mr. Franklin, -but this business has so upset you, that you're not fit yet to judge -for yourself. The sooner you lay your head alongside Mr. Bruff's head, -the sooner you will see your way out of the dead-lock that has got -you now." - -We reached the station, with only a minute or two to spare. - -I hurriedly gave Betteredge my address in London, so that -he might write to me, if necessary; promising, on my side, -to inform him of any news which I might have to communicate. -This done, and just as I was bidding him farewell, I happened -to glance towards the book-and-newspaper stall. There was -Mr. Candy's remarkable-looking assistant again, speaking to -the keeper of the stall! Our eyes met at the same moment. -Ezra Jennings took off his hat to me. I returned the salute, -and got into a carriage just as the train started. -It was a relief to my mind, I suppose, to dwell on any subject -which appeared to be, personally, of no sort of importance to me. -At all events, I began the momentous journey back which was -to take me to Mr. Bruff, wondering--absurdly enough, I admit-- -that I should have seen the man with the piebald hair twice in -one day! - -The hour at which I arrived in London precluded all hope -of my finding Mr. Bruff at his place of business. -I drove from the railway to his private residence at Hampstead, -and disturbed the old lawyer dozing alone in his dining-room, -with his favourite pug-dog on his lap, and his bottle of wine -at his elbow. - -I shall best describe the effect which my story produced on the mind -of Mr. Bruff by relating his proceedings when he had heard it to the end. -He ordered lights, and strong tea, to be taken into his study; -and he sent a message to the ladies of his family, forbidding them -to disturb us on any pretence whatever. These preliminaries disposed of, -he first examined the nightgown, and then devoted himself to the reading of -Rosanna Spearman's letter. - -The reading completed, Mr. Bruff addressed me for the first time -since we had been shut up together in the seclusion of his own room. - -"Franklin Blake," said the old gentleman, "this is a very serious matter, -in more respects than one. In my opinion, it concerns Rachel quite as -nearly as it concerns you. Her extraordinary conduct is no mystery NOW. -She believes you have stolen the Diamond." - -I had shrunk from reasoning my own way fairly to that revolting conclusion. -But it had forced itself on me, nevertheless. My resolution to obtain -a personal interview with Rachel, rested really and truly on the ground just -stated by Mr. Bruff. - -"The first step to take in this investigation," the lawyer proceeded, -"is to appeal to Rachel. She has been silent all this time, from motives -which I (who know her character) can readily understand. It is impossible, -after what has happened, to submit to that silence any longer. -She must be persuaded to tell us, or she must be forced to tell us, -on what grounds she bases her belief that you took the Moonstone. -The chances are, that the whole of this case, serious as it seems now, -will tumble to pieces, if we can only break through Rachel's inveterate -reserve, and prevail upon her to speak out." - -"That is a very comforting opinion for ME," I said. "I own I should -like to know - -"You would like to know how I can justify it," inter-posed Mr. Bruff. -"I can tell you in two minutes. Understand, in the first place, -that I look at this matter from a lawyer's point of view. It's a -question of evidence, with me. Very well. The evidence breaks down, -at the outset, on one important point." - -"On what point?" - -"You shall hear. I admit that the mark of the name proves -the nightgown to be yours. I admit that the mark of the paint -proves the nightgown to have made the smear on Rachel's door. -But what evidence is there to prove that you are the person who -wore it, on the night when the Diamond was lost?" - -The objection struck me, all the more forcibly that it reflected -an objection which I had felt myself. - -"As to this," pursued the lawyer taking up Rosanna Spearman's confession, -"I can understand that the letter is a distressing one to YOU. -I can understand that you may hesitate to analyse it from a purely -impartial point of view. But I am not in your position. -I can bring my professional experience to bear on this document, -just as I should bring it to bear on any other. Without alluding -to the woman's career as a thief, I will merely remark that her letter -proves her to have been an adept at deception, on her own showing; -and I argue from that, that I am justified in suspecting her of not -having told the whole truth. I won't start any theory, at present, -as to what she may or may not have done. I will only say that, -if Rachel has suspected you ON THE EVIDENCE OF THE NIGHTGOWN ONLY, -the chances are ninety-nine to a hundred that Rosanna Spearman -was the person who showed it to her. In that case, there is -the woman's letter, confessing that she was jealous of Rachel, -confessing that she changed the roses, confessing that she saw -a glimpse of hope for herself, in the prospect of a quarrel -between Rachel and you. I don't stop to ask who took the Moonstone -(as a means to her end, Rosanna Spearman would have taken -fifty Moonstones)--I only say that the disappearance of the jewel -gave this reclaimed thief who was in love with you, an opportunity -of setting you and Rachel at variance for the rest of your lives. -She had not decided on destroying herself, THEN, remember; and, having -the opportunity, I distinctly assert that it was in her character, -and in her position at the time, to take it. What do you say -to that?" - -"Some such suspicion," I answered, "crossed my own mind, -as soon as I opened the letter." - -"Exactly! And when you had read the letter, you pitied the poor creature, -and couldn't find it in your heart to suspect her. Does you credit, -my dear sir--does you credit!" - -"But suppose it turns out that I did wear the nightgown? -What then?" - -"I don't see how the fact can be proved," said Mr. Bruff. -"But assuming the proof to be possible, the vindication of your -innocence would be no easy matter. We won't go into that, now. -Let us wait and see whether Rachel hasn't suspected you on -the evidence of the nightgown only." - -"Good God, how coolly you talk of Rachel suspecting me!" -I broke out. "What right has she to suspect Me, on any evidence, -of being a thief?" - -"A very sensible question, my dear sir. Rather hotly put-- -but well worth considering for all that. What puzzles you, -puzzles me too. Search your memory, and tell me this. Did anything -happen while you were staying at the house--not, of course, -to shake Rachel's belief in your honour--but, let us say, -to shake her belief (no matter with how little reason) in your -principles generally?" - -I started, in ungovernable agitation, to my feet. The lawyer's -question reminded me, for the first time since I had left England, -that something HAD happened. - -In the eighth chapter of Betteredge's Narrative, an allusion will be -found to the arrival of a foreigner and a stranger at my aunt's house, -who came to see me on business. The nature of his business was this. - -I had been foolish enough (being, as usual, straitened for money -at the time) to accept a loan from the keeper of a small -restaurant in Paris, to whom I was well known as a customer. -A time was settled between us for paying the money back; -and when the time came, I found it (as thousands of other -honest men have found it) impossible to keep my engagement. -I sent the man a bill. My name was unfortunately too well known -on such documents: he failed to negotiate it. His affairs had -fallen into disorder, in the interval since I had borrowed of him; -bankruptcy stared him in the face; and a relative of his, -a French lawyer, came to England to find me, and to insist -upon the payment of my debt. He was a man of violent temper; -and he took the wrong way with me. High words passed on both sides; -and my aunt and Rachel were unfortunately in the next room, -and heard us. Lady Verinder came in, and insisted on knowing -what was the matter. The Frenchman produced his credentials, -and declared me to be responsible for the ruin of a poor man, -who had trusted in my honour. My aunt instantly paid him -the money, and sent him off. She knew me better of course -than to take the Frenchman's view of the transaction. -But she was shocked at my carelessness, and justly angry with me -for placing myself in a position, which, but for her interference, -might have become a very disgraceful one. Either her mother -told her, or Rachel heard what passed--I can't say which. -She took her own romantic, high-flown view of the matter. -I was "heartless"; I was "dishonourable"; I had "no principle"; -there was "no knowing what I might do next"--in short, -she said some of the severest things to me which I had ever -heard from a young lady's lips. The breach between us -lasted for the whole of the next day. The day after, -I succeeded in making my peace, and thought no more of it. -Had Rachel reverted to this unlucky accident, at the critical -moment when my place in her estimation was again, and far -more seriously, assailed? Mr. Bruff, when I had mentioned -the circumstances to him, answered the question at once in the -affirmative. - -"It would have its effect on her mind," he said gravely. -"And I wish, for your sake, the thing had not happened. -However, we have discovered that there WAS a predisposing -influence against you--and there is one uncertainty cleared out -of our way, at any rate. I see nothing more that we can do now. -Our next step in this inquiry must be the step that takes us -to Rachel." - -He rose, and began walking thoughtfully up and down the room. Twice, I was on -the point of telling him that I had determined on seeing Rachel personally; -and twice, having regard to his age and his character, I hesitated to take him -by surprise at an unfavourable moment. - -"The grand difficulty is," he resumed, "how to make her show her whole -mind in this matter, without reserve. Have you any suggestions to offer?" - -"I have made up my mind, Mr. Bruff, to speak to Rachel myself." - -"You!" He suddenly stopped in his walk, and looked at me as if he thought -I had taken leave of my senses. "You, of all the people in the world!" -He abruptly checked himself, and took another turn in the room. -"Wait a little," he said. "In cases of this extraordinary kind, the rash -way is sometimes the best way." He considered the question for a moment -or two, under that new light, and ended boldly by a decision in my favour. -"Nothing venture, nothing have," the old gentleman resumed. "You have a -chance in your favour which I don't possess--and you shall be the first to try -the experiment." - -"A chance in my favour?" I repeated, in the greatest surprise. - -Mr. Bruff's face softened, for the first time, into a smile. - -"This is how it stands," he said. "I tell you fairly, -I don't trust your discretion, and I don't trust your temper. -But I do trust in Rachel's still preserving, in some remote -little corner of her heart, a certain perverse weakness for YOU. -Touch that--and trust to the consequences for the fullest -disclosures that can flow from a woman's lips! The question is-- -how are you to see her?" - -"She has been a guest of yours at this house," I answered. -"May I venture to suggest--if nothing was said about me beforehand-- -that I might see her here?" - -"Cool!" said Mr. Bruff. With that one word of comment on the reply that I -had made to him, he took another turn up and down the room. - -"In plain English," he said, "my house is to be turned -into a trap to catch Rachel; with a bait to tempt her, -in the shape of an invitation from my wife and daughters. -If you were anybody else but Franklin Blake, and if this matter -was one atom less serious than it really is, I should refuse -point-blank. As things are, I firmly believe Rachel will live -to thank me for turning traitor to her in my old age. Consider me -your accomplice. Rachel shall be asked to spend the day here; -and you shall receive due notice of it." - -"When? To-morrow?" - -"To-morrow won't give us time enough to get her answer. -Say the day after." - -"How shall I hear from you?" - -"Stay at home all the morning and expect me to call on you." - -I thanked him for the inestimable assistance which he was rendering to me, -with the gratitude that I really felt; and, declining a hospitable invitation -to sleep that night at Hampstead, returned to my lodgings in London. - -Of the day that followed, I have only to say that it was the longest -day of my life. Innocent as I knew myself to be, certain as I was -that the abominable imputation which rested on me must sooner or later -be cleared off, there was nevertheless a sense of self-abasement in my -mind which instinctively disinclined me to see any of my friends. -We often hear (almost invariably, however, from superficial observers) -that guilt can look like innocence. I believe it to be infinitely -the truer axiom of the two that innocence can look like guilt. -I caused myself to be denied all day, to every visitor who called; and I -only ventured out under cover of the night. - -The next morning, Mr. Bruff surprised me at the breakfast-table. He -handed me a large key, and announced that he felt ashamed of himself -for the first time in his life. - -"Is she coming?" - -"She is coming to-day, to lunch and spend the afternoon with my wife -and my girls." - -"Are Mrs. Bruff, and your daughters, in the secret?" - -"Inevitably. But women, as you may have observed, have no principles. -My family don't feel my pangs of conscience. The end being to bring you -and Rachel together again, my wife and daughters pass over the means employed -to gain it, as composedly as if they were Jesuits." - -"I am infinitely obliged to them. What is this key?" - -"The key of the gate in my back-garden wall. Be there at three -this afternoon. Let yourself into the garden, and make your way -in by the conservatory door. Cross the small drawing-room, and open -the door in front of you which leads into the music-room. There, -you will find Rachel--and find her, alone." - -"How can I thank you!" - -"I will tell you how. Don't blame me for what happens afterwards." - -With those words, he went out. - -I had many weary hours still to wait through. To while away the time, -I looked at my letters. Among them was a letter from Betteredge. - -I opened it eagerly. To my surprise and disappointment, it began -with an apology warning me to expect no news of any importance. -In the next sentence the everlasting Ezra Jennings appeared again! -He had stopped Betteredge on the way out of the station, -and had asked who I was. Informed on this point, -he had mentioned having seen me to his master Mr. Candy. -Mr. Candy hearing of this, had himself driven over to Betteredge, -to express his regret at our having missed each other. -He had a reason for wishing particularly to speak to me; -and when I was next in the neighbourhood of Frizinghall, he begged -I would let him know. Apart from a few characteristic utterances -of the Betteredge philosophy, this was the sum and substance -of my correspondent's letter. The warm-hearted, faithful old man -acknowledged that he had written "mainly for the pleasure of writing -to me." - -I crumpled up the letter in my pocket, and forgot it the moment after, -in the all-absorbing interest of my coming interview with Rachel. - -As the clock of Hampstead church struck three, I put Mr. Bruff's key into -the lock of the door in the wall. When I first stepped into the garden, -and while I was securing the door again on the inner side, I own to having -felt a certain guilty doubtfulness about what might happen next. -I looked furtively on either side of me; suspicious of the presence -of some unexpected witness in some unknown corner of the garden. -Nothing appeared, to justify my apprehensions. The walks were, -one and all, solitudes; and the birds and the bees were the only witnesses. - -I passed through the garden; entered the conservatory; and crossed -the small drawing-room. As I laid my hand on the door opposite, -I heard a few plaintive chords struck on the piano in the room within. -She had often idled over the instrument in this way, when I was staying -at her mother's house. I was obliged to wait a little, to steady myself. -The past and present rose side by side, at that supreme moment--and the -contrast shook me. - -After the lapse of a minute, I roused my manhood, and opened the door. - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -At the moment when I showed myself in the doorway, Rachel rose from the piano. - -I closed the door behind me. We confronted each other in silence, -with the full length of the room between us. The movement she had made -in rising appeared to be the one exertion of which she was capable. -All use of every other faculty, bodily or mental, seemed to be merged in -the mere act of looking at me. - -A fear crossed my mind that I had shown myself too suddenly. -I advanced a few steps towards her. I said gently, "Rachel!" - -The sound of my voice brought the life back to her limbs, -and the colour to her face. She advanced, on her side, -still without speaking. Slowly, as if acting under some influence -independent of her own will, she came nearer and nearer to me; -the warm dusky colour flushing her cheeks, the light of -reviving intelligence brightening every instant in her eyes. -I forgot the object that had brought me into her presence; -I forgot the vile suspicion that rested on my good name; -I forgot every consideration, past, present, and future, which I -was bound to remember. I saw nothing but the woman I loved coming -nearer and nearer to me. She trembled; she stood irresolute. -I could resist it no longer--I caught her in my arms, and covered her -face with kisses. - -There was a moment when I thought the kisses were returned; -a moment when it seemed as if she, too might have forgotten. -Almost before the idea could shape itself in my mind, -her first voluntary action made me feel that she remembered. -With a cry which was like a cry of horror--with a strength -which I doubt if I could have resisted if I had tried-- -she thrust me back from her. I saw merciless anger in her eyes; -I saw merciless contempt on her lips. She looked me over, -from head to foot, as she might have looked at a stranger who had -insulted her. - -"You coward!" she said. "You mean, miserable, heartless coward!" - -Those were her first words! The most unendurable reproach that a woman can -address to a man, was the reproach that she picked out to address to Me. - -"I remember the time, Rachel," I said, "when you could have -told me that I had offended you, in a worthier way than that. -I beg your pardon." - -Something of the bitterness that I felt may have communicated -itself to my voice. At the first words of my reply, her eyes, -which had been turned away the moment before, looked back -at me unwillingly. She answered in a low tone, with a sullen -submission of manner which was quite new in my experience -of her. - -"Perhaps there is some excuse for me," she said. "After what you have done, -is it a manly action, on your part, to find your way to me as you have found -it to-day? It seems a cowardly experiment, to try an experiment on my -weakness for you. It seems a cowardly surprise, to surprise me into letting -you kiss me. But that is only a woman's view. I ought to have known it -couldn't be your view. I should have done better if I had controlled myself, -and said nothing." - -The apology was more unendurable than the insult. The most degraded -man living would have felt humiliated by it. - -"If my honour was not in your hands," I said, "I would leave you this instant, -and never see you again. You have spoken of what I have done. What have -I done?" - -"What have you done! YOU ask that question of ME?" - -"I ask it." - -"I have kept your infamy a secret," she answered. -"And I have suffered the consequences of concealing it. -Have I no claim to be spared the insult of your asking me -what you have done? Is ALL sense of gratitude dead in you? -You were once a gentleman. You were once dear to my mother, -and dearer still to me----" - -Her voice failed her. She dropped into a chair, and turned her back on me, -and covered her face with her hands. - -I waited a little before I trusted myself to say any more. -In that moment of silence, I hardly know which I felt -most keenly--the sting which her contempt had planted in me, -or the proud resolution which shut me out from all community -with her distress. - -"If you will not speak first," I said, "I must. I have come here -with something serious to say to you. Will you do me the common -justice of listening while I say it?" - -She neither moved, nor answered. I made no second appeal to her; -I never advanced an inch nearer to her chair. With a pride -which was as obstinate as her pride, I told her of my discovery -at the Shivering Sand, and of all that had led to it. -The narrative, of necessity, occupied some little time. -From beginning to end, she never looked round at me, and she never -uttered a word. - -I kept my temper. My whole future depended, in all probability, -on my not losing possession of myself at that moment. -The time had come to put Mr. Bruff's theory to the test. -In the breathless interest of trying that experiment, I moved round -so as to place myself in front of her. - -"I have a question to ask you," I said. "It obliges me to refer again -to a painful subject. Did Rosanna Spearman show you the nightgown. -Yes, or No?" - -She started to her feet; and walked close up to me of her own accord. -Her eyes looked me searchingly in the face, as if to read something there -which they had never read yet. - -"Are you mad?" she asked. - -I still restrained myself. I said quietly, "Rachel, will you answer -my question?" - -She went on, without heeding me. - -"Have you some object to gain which I don't understand? -Some mean fear about the future, in which I am concerned? -They say your father's death has made you a rich man. -Have you come here to compensate me for the loss of my Diamond? -And have you heart enough left to feel ashamed of your errand? -Is THAT the secret of your pretence of innocence, -and your story about Rosanna Spearman? Is there -a motive of shame at the bottom of all the falsehood, -this time?" - -I stopped her there. I could control myself no longer. - -"You have done me an infamous wrong!" I broke out hotly. -"You suspect me of stealing your Diamond. I have a right to know, -and I WILL know, the reason why!" - -"Suspect you!" she exclaimed, her anger rising with mine. -"YOU VILLAIN, I SAW YOU TAKE THE DIAMOND WITH MY OWN EYES!" - -The revelation which burst upon me in those words, the overthrow -which they instantly accomplished of the whole view of the case on -which Mr. Bruff had relied, struck me helpless. Innocent as I was, -I stood before her in silence. To her eyes, to any eyes, I must -have looked like a man overwhelmed by the discovery of his own guilt. - -She drew back from the spectacle of my humiliation and of her triumph. -The sudden silence that had fallen upon me seemed to frighten her. -"I spared you, at the time," she said. "I would have spared you now, -if you had not forced me to speak." She moved away as if to leave the room-- -and hesitated before she got to the door. "Why did you come here to -humiliate yourself?" she asked. "Why did you come here to humiliate me?" -She went on a few steps, and paused once more. "For God's sake, -say something!" she exclaimed, passionately. "If you have any mercy left, -don't let me degrade myself in this way! Say something--and drive me out of -the room!" - -I advanced towards her, hardly conscious of what I was doing. -I had possibly some confused idea of detaining her until she -had told me more. From the moment when I knew that the evidence -on which I stood condemned in Rachel's mind, was the evidence of -her own eyes, nothing--not even my conviction of my own innocence-- -was clear to my mind. I took her by the hand; I tried to speak -firmly and to the purpose. All I could say was, "Rachel, you once -loved me." - -She shuddered, and looked away from me. Her hand lay powerless -and trembling in mine. Let go of it," she said faintly. - -My touch seemed to have the same effect on her which the sound -of my voice had produced when I first entered the room. -After she had said the word which called me a coward, -after she had made the avowal which branded me as a thief-- -while her hand lay in mine I was her master still! - -I drew her gently back into the middle of the room. -I seated her by the side of me. "Rachel," I said, "I can't -explain the contradiction in what I am going to tell you. -I can only speak the truth as you have spoken it. You saw me-- -with your own eyes, you saw me take the Diamond. Before God who -hears us, I declare that I now know I took it for the first time! -Do you doubt me still?" - -She had neither heeded nor heard me. "Let go of my hand," -she repeated faintly. That was her only answer. Her head sank -on my shoulder; and her hand unconsciously closed on mine, -at the moment when she asked me to release it. - -I refrained from pressing the question. But there my forbearance stopped. -My chance of ever holding up my head again among honest men depended on my -chance of inducing her to make her disclosure complete. The one hope left -for me was the hope that she might have overlooked something in the chain -of evidence some mere trifle, perhaps, which might nevertheless, under careful -investigation, be made the means of vindicating my innocence in the end. -I own I kept possession of her hand. I own I spoke to her with all that I -could summon back of the sympathy and confidence of the bygone time. - -"I want to ask you something," I said. "I want you to tell me everything -that happened, from the time when we wished each other good night, -to the time when you saw me take the Diamond." - -She lifted her head from my shoulder, and made an effort to release her hand. -"Oh, why go back to it!" she said. "Why go back to it!" - -"I will tell you why, Rachel. You are the victim, and I am the victim, -of some monstrous delusion which has worn the mask of truth. -If we look at what happened on the night of your birthday together, -we may end in understanding each other yet." - -Her head dropped back on my shoulder. The tears gathered -in her eyes, and fell slowly over her cheeks. "Oh!" she said, -"have I never had that hope? Have I not tried to see it, -as you are trying now?" - -"You have tried by yourself," I answered. "You have not tried with me -to help you." - -Those words seemed to awaken in her something of the hope which I felt myself -when I uttered them. She replied to my questions with more than docility-- -she exerted her intelligence; she willingly opened her whole mind to me. - -"Let us begin," I said, "with what happened after we had wished -each other good night. Did you go to bed? or did you sit up?" - -"I went to bed." - -"Did you notice the time? Was it late?" - -"Not very. About twelve o'clock, I think." - -"Did you fall asleep?" - -"No. I couldn't sleep that night." - -"You were restless?" - -"I was thinking of you." - -The answer almost unmanned me. Something in the tone, -even more than in the words, went straight to my heart. -It was only after pausing a little first that I was able to -go on. - -"Had you any light in your room?" I asked. - -"None--until I got up again, and lit my candle." - -"How long was that, after you had gone to bed?" - -"About an hour after, I think. About one o'clock." - -"Did you leave your bedroom?" - -"I was going to leave it. I had put on my dressing-gown; -and I was going into my sitting-room to get a book----" - -"Had you opened your bedroom door?" - -"I had just opened it." - -"But you had not gone into the sitting-room?" - -"No--I was stopped from going into it." - -"What stopped you? - -"I saw a light, under the door; and I heard footsteps approaching it." - -"Were you frightened?" - -"Not then. I knew my poor mother was a bad sleeper; -and I remembered that she had tried hard, that evening, -to persuade me to let her take charge of my Diamond. -She was unreasonably anxious about it, as I thought; -and I fancied she was coming to me to see if I was in bed, -and to speak to me about the Diamond again, if she found that I -was up." - -"What did you do?" - -"I blew out my candle, so that she might think I was in bed. -I was unreasonable, on my side--I was determined to keep my Diamond -in the place of my own choosing." - -"After blowing out the candle, did you go back to bed?" - -"I had no time to go back. At the moment when I blew the candle out, -the sitting-room door opened, and I saw----" - -"You saw?" - -"You." - -"Dressed as usual?" - -"No." - -"In my nightgown?" - -"In your nightgown--with your bedroom candle in your hand." - -"Alone?" - -"Alone." - -"Could you see my face?" - -"Yes." - -"Plainly?" - -"Quite plainly. The candle in your hand showed it to me." - -"Were my eyes open?" - -"Yes." - -"Did you notice anything strange in them? Anything like a fixed, -vacant expression?" - -"Nothing of the sort. Your eyes were bright--brighter than usual. -You looked about in the room, as if you knew you were where you ought -not to be, and as if you were afraid of being found out." - -"Did you observe one thing when I came into the room-- -did you observe how I walked?" - -"You walked as you always do. You came in as far as the middle of the room-- -and then you stopped and looked about you." - -"What did you do, on first seeing me?" - -"I could do nothing. I was petrified. I couldn't speak, -I couldn't call out, I couldn't even move to shut my door." - -"Could I see you, where you stood?" - -"You might certainly have seen me. But you never looked towards me. -It's useless to ask the question. I am sure you never saw me." - -"How are you sure?" - -"Would you have taken the Diamond? would you have acted as you -did afterwards? would you be here now--if you had seen that I was -awake and looking at you? Don't make me talk of that part of it! -I want to answer you quietly. Help me to keep as calm as I can. -Go on to something else." - -She was right--in every way, right. I went on to other things. - -"What did I do, after I had got to the middle of the room, -and had stopped there?" - -"You turned away, and went straight to the corner near the window-- -where my Indian cabinet stands." - -"When I was at the cabinet, my back must have been turned towards you. -How did you see what I was doing?" - -"When you moved, I moved." - -"So as to see what I was about with my hands?" - -"There are three glasses in my sitting-room. As you stood there, -I saw all that you did, reflected in one of them." - -"What did you see?" - -"You put your candle on the top of the cabinet. You opened, and shut, -one drawer after another, until you came to the drawer in which I -had put my Diamond. You looked at the open drawer for a moment. -And then you put your hand in, and took the Diamond out." - -"How do you know I took the Diamond out?" - -"I saw your hand go into the drawer. And I saw the gleam of the stone -between your finger and thumb, when you took your hand out." - -"Did my hand approach the drawer again--to close it, for instance?" - -"No. You had the Diamond in your right hand; and you took the candle -from the top of the cabinet with your left hand." - -"Did I look about me again, after that?" - -"No." - -"Did I leave the room immediately?" - -"No. You stood quite still, for what seemed a long time. -I saw your face sideways in the glass. You looked like a -man thinking, and dissatisfied with his own thoughts." - -"What happened next?" - -"You roused yourself on a sudden, and you went straight out of the room." - -"Did I close the door after me?" - -"No. You passed out quickly into the passage, and left the door open." - -"And then?" - -"Then, your light disappeared, and the sound of your steps died away, -and I was left alone in the dark." - -"Did nothing happen--from that time, to the time when the whole house -knew that the Diamond was lost?" - -"Nothing." - -"Are you sure of that? Might you not have been asleep a part of the time?" - -"I never slept. I never went back to my bed. Nothing happened until -Penelope came in, at the usual time in the morning." - -I dropped her hand, and rose, and took a turn in the room. -Every question that I could put had been answered. -Every detail that I could desire to know had been placed before me. -I had even reverted to the idea of sleep-walking, and the idea -of intoxication; and, again, the worthlessness of the one theory -and the other had been proved--on the authority, this time, -of the witness who had seen me. What was to be said next? what -was to be done next? There rose the horrible fact of the Theft-- -the one visible, tangible object that confronted me, in the midst -of the impenetrable darkness which enveloped all besides! -Not a glimpse of light to guide me, when I had possessed -myself of Rosanna Spearman's secret at the Shivering Sand. -And not a glimpse of light now, when I had appealed to Rachel -herself, and had heard the hateful story of the night from her -own lips. - -She was the first, this time, to break the silence. - -"Well?" she said, "you have asked, and I have answered. -You have made me hope something from all this, because you hoped -something from it. What have you to say now?" - -The tone in which she spoke warned me that my influence over her was a lost -influence once more. - -"We were to look at what happened on my birthday night, together," -she went an; "and we were then to understand each other. Have we done that?" - -She waited pitilessly for my reply. In answering her I committed -a fatal error--I let the exasperating helplessness of my situation get -the better of my self-control. Rashly and uselessly, I reproached her -for the silence which had kept me until that moment in ignorance of the truth. - -"If you had spoken when you ought to have spoken," I began; -"if you had done me the common justice to explain yourself----" - -She broke in on me with a cry of fury. The few words I had said -seemed to have lashed her on the instant into a frenzy of rage. - -"Explain myself!" she repeated. "Oh! is there another man -like this in the world? I spare him, when my heart is breaking; -I screen him when my own character is at stake; and HE-- -of all human beings, HE--turns on me now, and tells me -that I ought to have explained myself! After believing -in him as I did, after loving him as I did, after thinking -of him by day, and dreaming of him by night--he wonders I -didn't charge him with his disgrace the first time we met: -"My heart's darling, you are a Thief! My hero whom I love -and honour, you have crept into my room under cover of the night, -and stolen my Diamond!" That is what I ought to have said. -You villain, you mean, mean, mean villain, I would have lost -fifty diamonds, rather than see your face lying to me, as I see it -lying now!" - -I took up my hat. In mercy to HER--yes! I can honestly say it-- -in mercy to HER, I turned away without a word, and opened the door -by which I had entered the room. - -She followed, and snatched the door out of my hand; she closed it, -and pointed back to the place that I had left. - -"No!" she said. "Not yet! It seems that I owe a justification -of my conduct to you. You shall stay and hear it. Or you shall -stoop to the lowest infamy of all, and force your way out." - -It wrung my heart to see her; it wrung my heart to hear her. -I answered by a sign--it was all I could do--that I submitted -myself to her will. - -The crimson flush of anger began to fade out of her face, as I went back, -and took my chair in silence. She waited a little, and steadied herself. -When she went on, but one sign of feeling was discernible in her. -She spoke without looking at me. Her hands were fast clasped in her lap, -and her eyes were fixed on the ground. - -"I ought to have done you the common justice to explain myself," she said, -repeating my own words. "You shall see whether I did try to do you justice, -or not. I told you just now that I never slept, and never returned to my bed, -after you had left my sitting-room. It's useless to trouble you by dwelling -on what I thought--you would not understand my thoughts--I will only tell -you what I did, when time enough had passed to help me to recover myself. -I refrained from alarming the house, and telling everybody what had happened-- -as I ought to have done. In spite of what I had seen, I was fond enough -of you to believe--no matter what!--any impossibility, rather than admit it to -my own mind that you were deliberately a thief. I thought and thought--and I -ended in writing to you." - -"I never received the letter." - -"I know you never received it. Wait a little, and you shall -hear why. My letter would have told you nothing openly. -It would not have ruined you for life, if it had fallen -into some other person's hands. It would only have said-- -in a manner which you yourself could not possibly have mistaken-- -that I had reason to know you were in debt, and that it -was in my experience and in my mother's experience of you, -that you were not very discreet, or very scrupulous about how -you got money when you wanted it. You would have remembered -the visit of the French lawyer, and you would have known what I -referred to. If you had read on with some interest after that, -you would have come to an offer I had to make to you-- -the offer, privately (not a word, mind, to be said openly -about it between us!), of the loan of as large a sum of money -as I could get.--And I would have got it!" she exclaimed, -her colour beginning to rise again, and her eyes looking up -at me once more. "I would have pledged the Diamond myself, -if I could have got the money in no other way! -In those words I wrote to you. Wait! I did more than that. -I arranged with Penelope to give you the letter when nobody -was near. I planned to shut myself into my bedroom, and to -have the sitting-room left open and empty all the morning. -And I hoped--with all my heart and soul I hoped!--that you would -take the opportunity, and put the Diamond back secretly in -the drawer." - -I attempted to speak. She lifted her hand impatiently, and stopped me. -In the rapid alternations of her temper, her anger was beginning to -rise again. She got up from her chair, and approached me. - -"I know what you are going to say," she went on. "You are -going to remind me again that you never received my letter. -I can tell you why. I tore it up. - -"For what reason?" I asked. - -"For the best of reasons. I preferred tearing it up to throwing it -away upon such a man as you! What was the first news that reached me -in the morning? Just as my little plan was complete, what did I hear? -I heard that you--you!!!--were the foremost person in the house -in fetching the police. You were the active man; you were the leader; -you were working harder than any of them to recover the jewel! -You even carried your audacity far enough to ask to speak to ME -about the loss of the Diamond--the Diamond which you yourself -had stolen; the Diamond which was all the time in your own hands! -After that proof of your horrible falseness and cunning, I tore up -my letter. But even then--even when I was maddened by the searching -and questioning of the policeman, whom you had sent in--even then, -there was some infatuation in my mind which wouldn't let me give you up. -I said to myself, "He has played his vile farce before everybody -else in the house. Let me try if he can play it before me." -Somebody told me you were on the terrace. I went down to the terrace. -I forced myself to look at you; I forced myself to speak to you. Have you -forgotten what I said?" - -I might have answered that I remembered every word of it. -But what purpose, at that moment, would the answer have served? - -How could I tell her that what she had said had astonished me, -had distressed me, had suggested to me that she was in a state -of dangerous nervous excitement, had even roused a moment's -doubt in my mind whether the loss of the jewel was as much -a mystery to her as to the rest of us--but had never once given -me so much as a glimpse at the truth? Without the shadow -of a proof to produce in vindication of my innocence, how could -I persuade her that I knew no more than the veriest stranger -could have known of what was really in her thoughts when she -spoke to me on the terrace? - -"It may suit your convenience to forget; it suits my convenience to remember," -she went on. "I know what I said--for I considered it with myself, before I -said it. I gave you one opportunity after another of owning the truth. -I left nothing unsaid that I COULD say--short of actually telling you that I -knew you had committed the theft. And all the return you made, was to look at -me with your vile pretence of astonishment, and your false face of innocence-- -just as you have looked at me to-day; just as you are looking at me now! -I left you, that morning, knowing you at last for what you were--for what you -are--as base a wretch as ever walked the earth!" - -"If you had spoken out at the time, you might have left me, -Rachel, knowing that you had cruelly wronged an innocent man." - -"If I had spoken out before other people," she retorted, with another -burst of indignation, "you would have been disgraced for life! -If I had spoken out to no ears but yours, you would have denied it, -as you are denying it now! Do you think I should have believed you? -Would a man hesitate at a lie, who had done what I saw YOU do-- -who had behaved about it afterwards, as I saw YOU behave? -I tell you again, I shrank from the horror of hearing you lie, -after the horror of seeing you thieve. You talk as if this -was a misunderstanding which a few words might have set right! -Well! the misunderstanding is at an end. Is the thing set right? -No! the thing is just where it was. I don't believe you NOW! -I don't believe you found the nightgown, I don't believe in -Rosanna Spearman's letter, I don't believe a word you have said. -You stole it--I saw you! You affected to help the police--I saw you! -You pledged the Diamond to the money-lender in London--I am sure of it! -You cast the suspicion of your disgrace (thanks to my base silence!) -on an innocent man! You fled to the Continent with your plunder -the next morning! After all that vileness, there was but one thing -more you COULD do. You could come here with a last falsehood -on your lips--you could come here, and tell me that I have wronged -you!" - -If I had stayed a moment more, I know not what words might have escaped -me which I should have remembered with vain repentance and regret. -I passed by her, and opened the door for the second time. -For the second time--with the frantic perversity of a roused woman-- -she caught me by the arm, and barred my way out. - -"Let me go, Rachel" I said. "It will be better for both of us. -Let me go." - -The hysterical passion swelled in her bosom--her quickened convulsive -breathing almost beat on my face, as she held me back at the door. - -"Why did you come here?" she persisted, desperately. "I ask you again-- -why did you come here? Are you afraid I shall expose you? -Now you are a rich man, now you have got a place in the world, -now you may marry the best lady in the land--are you afraid I shall -say the words which I have never said yet to anybody but you? -I can't say the words! I can't expose you! I am worse, if worse -can be, than you are yourself." Sobs and tears burst from her. -She struggled with them fiercely; she held me more and more firmly. -"I can't tear you out of my heart," she said, "even now! -You may trust in the shameful, shameful weakness which can only -struggle against you in this way!" She suddenly let go of me-- -she threw up her hands, and wrung them frantically in the air. -"Any other woman living would shrink from the disgrace of touching him!" -she exclaimed. "Oh, God! I despise myself even more heartily than I -despise HIM!" - -The tears were forcing their way into my eyes in spite of me-- -the horror of it was to be endured no longer. - -"You shall know that you have wronged me, yet," I said. -"Or you shall never see me again!" - -With those words, I left her. She started up from the chair -on which she had dropped the moment before: she started up-- -the noble creature!--and followed me across the outer room, -with a last merciful word at parting. - -"Franklin!" she said, "I forgive you! Oh, Franklin, Franklin! we -shall never meet again. Say you forgive ME!" - -I turned, so as to let my face show her that I was past speaking-- -I turned, and waved my hand, and saw her dimly, as in a vision, -through the tears that had conquered me at last. - -The next moment, the worst bitterness of it was over. -I was out in the garden again. I saw her, and heard her, -no more. - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Late that evening, I was surprised at my lodgings by a visit from Mr. Bruff. - -There was a noticeable change in the lawyer's manner. -It had lost its usual confidence and spirit. He shook hands -with me, for the first time in his life, in silence. - -"Are you going back to Hampstead?" I asked, by way of saying something. - -"I have just left Hampstead," he answered. "I know, Mr. Franklin, -that you have got at the truth at last. But, I tell you plainly, -if I could have foreseen the price that was to be paid for it, -I should have preferred leaving you in the dark." - -"You have seen Rachel?" - -"I have come here after taking her back to Portland Place; -it was impossible to let her return in the carriage by herself. -I can hardly hold you responsible--considering that you -saw her in my house and by my permission--for the shock -that this unlucky interview has inflicted on her. All I -can do is to provide against a repetition of the mischief. -She is young--she has a resolute spirit--she will get over this, -with time and rest to help her. I want to be assured that you -will do nothing to hinder her recovery. May I depend on your -making no second attempt to see her--except with my sanction -and approval?" - -"After what she has suffered, and after what I have suffered," -I said, "you may rely on me." - -"I have your promise?" - -"You have my promise." - -Mr. Bruff looked relieved. He put down his hat, and drew his chair nearer -to mine. - -"That's settled!" he said. "Now, about the future--your future, I mean. -To my mind, the result of the extraordinary turn which the matter has -now taken is briefly this. In the first place, we are sure that Rachel -has told you the whole truth, as plainly as words can tell it. -In the second place--though we know that there must be some dreadful -mistake somewhere--we can hardly blame her for believing you to be guilty, -on the evidence of her own senses; backed, as that evidence has been, -by circumstances which appear, on the face of them, to tell dead -against you." - -There I interposed. "I don't blame Rachel," I said. -"I only regret that she could not prevail on herself to speak -more plainly to me at the time." - -"You might as well regret that Rachel is not somebody else," -rejoined Mr. Bruff. "And even then, I doubt if a girl -of any delicacy, whose heart had been set on marrying you, -could have brought herself to charge you to your face with being -a thief. Anyhow, it was not in Rachel's nature to do it. -In a very different matter to this matter of yours-- -which placed her, however, in a position not altogether -unlike her position towards you--I happen to know that she -was influenced by a similar motive to the motive which actuated -her conduct in your case. Besides, as she told me herself, -on our way to town this evening, if she had spoken plainly, -she would no more have believed your denial then than she -believes it now. What answer can you make to that? -There is no answer to be made to it. Come, come, Mr. Franklin! -my view of the case has been proved to be all wrong, -I admit--but, as things are now, my advice may be worth having -for all that. I tell you plainly, we shall be wasting our time, -and cudgelling our brains to no purpose, if we attempt to try back, -and unravel this frightful complication from the beginning. -Let us close our minds resolutely to all that happened last year -at Lady Verinder's country house; and let us look to what we CAN -discover in the future, instead of to what we can NOT discover in -the past." - -"Surely you forget," I said, "that the whole thing is essentially -a matter of the past--so far as I am concerned?" - -"Answer me this," retorted Mr. Bruff. "Is the Moonstone at the bottom -of all the mischief--or is it not?" - -"It is--of course." - -"Very good. What do we believe was done with the Moonstone, -when it was taken to London?" - -"It was pledged to Mr. Luker." - -"We know that you are not the person who pledged it. -Do we know who did?" - -"No." - -"Where do we believe the Moonstone to be now?" - -"Deposited in the keeping of Mr. Luker's bankers." - -"Exactly. Now observe. We are already in the month of June. -Towards the end of the month (I can't be particular to a day) -a year will have elapsed from the time when we believe the jewel -to have been pledged. There is a chance--to say the least-- -that the person who pawned it, may be prepared to redeem -it when the year's time has expired. If he redeems it, -Mr. Luker must himself--according to the terms of his -own arrangement--take the Diamond out of his banker's hands. -Under these circumstances, I propose setting a watch at the bank, -as the present month draws to an end, and discovering who the -person is to whom Mr. Luker restores the Moonstone. Do you see -it now?" - -I admitted (a little unwillingly) that the idea was a new one, -at any rate. - -"It's Mr. Murthwaite's idea quite as much as mine," -said Mr. Bruff. "It might have never entered my head, -but for a conversation we had together some time since. -If Mr. Murthwaite is right, the Indians are likely to be on -the lookout at the bank, towards the end of the month too-- -and something serious may come of it. What comes of it -doesn't matter to you and me except as it may help us to lay -our hands on the mysterious Somebody who pawned the Diamond. -That person, you may rely on it, is responsible (I don't -pretend to know how) for the position in which you stand -at this moment; and that person alone can set you right in -Rachel's estimation." - -"I can't deny," I said, "that the plan you propose meets the difficulty -in a way that is very daring, and very ingenious, and very new. But----" - -"But you have an objection to make?" - -"Yes. My objection is, that your proposal obliges us to wait." - -"Granted. As I reckon the time, it requires you to wait about a fortnight-- -more or less. Is that so very long?" - -"It's a life-time, Mr. Bruff, in such a situation as mine. -My existence will be simply unendurable to me, unless I do -something towards clearing my character at once." - -"Well, well, I understand that. Have you thought yet of what you can do?" - -"I have thought of consulting Sergeant Cuff." - -"He has retired from the police. It's useless to expect the Sergeant -to help you." - -"I know where to find him; and I can but try." - -"Try," said Mr. Bruff, after a moment's consideration. -"The case has assumed such an extraordinary aspect since Sergeant -Cuff's time, that you may revive his interest in the inquiry. -Try, and let me hear the result. In the meanwhile," -he continued, rising, "if you make no discoveries between this, -and the end of the month, am I free to try, on my side, -what can be done by keeping a lookout at the bank?" - -"Certainly," I answered--"unless I relieve you of all necessity for trying -the experiment in the interval." - -Mr. Bruff smiled, and took up his hat. - -"Tell Sergeant Cuff," he rejoined, "that I say the discovery of the truth -depends on the discovery of the person who pawned the Diamond. And let me -hear what the Sergeant's experience says to that." - -So we parted. - -Early the next morning, I set forth for the little town of Dorking-- -the place of Sergeant Cuff's retirement, as indicated to me -by Betteredge. - -Inquiring at the hotel, I received the necessary directions -for finding the Sergeant's cottage. It was approached -by a quiet bye-road, a little way out of the town, and it -stood snugly in the middle of its own plot of garden ground, -protected by a good brick wall at the back and the sides, -and by a high quickset hedge in front. The gate, ornamented at -the upper part by smartly-painted trellis-work, was locked. -After ringing at the bell, I peered through the trellis-work, -and saw the great Cuff's favourite flower everywhere; blooming in -his garden, clustering over his door, looking in at his windows. -Far from the crimes and the mysteries of the great city, -the illustrious thief-taker was placidly living out the last Sybarite -years of his life, smothered in roses! - -A decent elderly woman opened the gate to me, and at once annihilated -all the hopes I had built on securing the assistance of Sergeant Cuff. -He had started, only the day before, on a journey to Ireland. - -"Has he gone there on business?" I asked. - -The woman smiled. "He has only one business now, sir," she said; -"and that's roses. Some great man's gardener in Ireland has found -out something new in the growing of roses--and Mr. Cuff's away to -inquire into it." - -"Do you know when he will be back?" - -"It's quite uncertain, sir. Mr. Cuff said he should come back directly, -or be away some time, just according as he found the new discovery -worth nothing, or worth looking into. If you have any message to leave -for him, I'll take care, sir, that he gets it." - -I gave her my card, having first written on it in pencil: -"I have something to say about the Moonstone. Let me hear -from you as soon as you get back." That done, there was -nothing left but to submit to circumstances, and return -to London. - -In the irritable condition of my mind, at the time of which I am now writing, -the abortive result of my journey to the Sergeant's cottage simply aggravated -the restless impulse in me to be doing something. On the day of my return -from Dorking, I determined that the next morning should find me bent on -a new effort at forcing my way, through all obstacles, from the darkness -to the light. - -What form was my next experiment to take? - -If the excellent Betteredge had been present while I was considering -that question, and if he had been let into the secret of my thoughts, -he would, no doubt, have declared that the German side of me was, -on this occasion, my uppermost side. To speak seriously, it is perhaps -possible that my German training was in some degree responsible for -the labyrinth of useless speculations in which I now involved myself. -For the greater part of the night, I sat smoking, and building up theories, -one more profoundly improbable than another. When I did get to sleep, -my waking fancies pursued me in dreams. I rose the next morning, -with Objective-Subjective and Subjective-Objective inextricably entangled -together in my mind; and I began the day which was to witness my next effort -at practical action of some kind, by doubting whether I had any sort -of right (on purely philosophical grounds) to consider any sort of thing -(the Diamond included) as existing at all. - -How long I might have remained lost in the mist of my own metaphysics, -if I had been left to extricate myself, it is impossible for me to say. -As the event proved, accident came to my rescue, and happily delivered me. -I happened to wear, that morning, the same coat which I had worn on the day -of my interview with Rachel. Searching for something else in one of -the pockets, I came upon a crumpled piece of paper, and, taking it out, -found Betteredge's forgotten letter in my hand. - -It seemed hard on my good old friend to leave him without a reply. -I went to my writing-table, and read his letter again. - -A letter which has nothing of the slightest importance in it, -is not always an easy letter to answer. Betteredge's present -effort at corresponding with me came within this category. -Mr. Candy's assistant, otherwise Ezra Jennings, had told -his master that he had seen me; and Mr. Candy, in his turn, -wanted to see me and say something to me, when I was next in -the neighbourhood of Frizinghall. What was to be said in answer -to that, which would be worth the paper it was written on? -I sat idly drawing likenesses from memory of Mr. Candy's -remarkable-looking assistant, on the sheet of paper which I -had vowed to dedicate to Betteredge--until it suddenly -occurred to me that here was the irrepressible Ezra Jennings -getting in my way again! I threw a dozen portraits, at least, -of the man with the piebald hair (the hair in every case, -remarkably like), into the waste-paper basket--and then -and there, wrote my answer to Betteredge. It was a perfectly -commonplace letter--but it had one excellent effect on me. -The effort of writing a few sentences, in plain English, -completely cleared my mind of the cloudy nonsense which had filled it -since the previous day. - -Devoting myself once more to the elucidation of the impenetrable -puzzle which my own position presented to me, I now tried to meet -the difficulty by investigating it from a plainly practical point of view. -The events of the memorable night being still unintelligible to me, -I looked a little farther back, and searched my memory of the earlier -hours of the birthday for any incident which might prove of some -assistance to me in finding the clue. - -Had anything happened while Rachel and I were finishing the painted -door? or, later, when I rode over to Frizinghall? or afterwards, -when I went back with Godfrey Ablewhite and his sisters? or, -later again, when I put the Moonstone into Rachel's hands? or, -later still, when the company came, and we all assembled round -the dinner-table? My memory disposed of that string of questions -readily enough, until I came to the last. Looking back at the social -event of the birthday dinner, I found myself brought to a standstill -at the outset of the inquiry. I was not even capable of accurately -remembering the number of the guests who had sat at the same table -with me. - -To feel myself completely at fault here, and to conclude, thereupon, -that the incidents of the dinner might especially repay the trouble of -investigating them, formed parts of the same mental process, in my case. -I believe other people, in a similar situation, would have reasoned as I did. -When the pursuit of our own interests causes us to become objects of -inquiry to ourselves, we are naturally suspicious of what we don't know. -Once in possession of the names of the persons who had been present at -the dinner, I resolved--as a means of enriching the deficient resources -of my own memory--to appeal to the memory of the rest of the guests; -to write down all that they could recollect of the social events of -the birthday; and to test the result, thus obtained, by the light of what -had happened afterwards, when the company had left the house. - -This last and newest of my many contemplated experiments in the art -of inquiry--which Betteredge would probably have attributed to the -clear-headed, or French, side of me being uppermost for the moment-- -may fairly claim record here, on its own merits. Unlikely as it may seem, -I had now actually groped my way to the root of the matter at last. -All I wanted was a hint to guide me in the right direction at starting. -Before another day had passed over my head, that hint was given me by one of -the company who had been present at the birthday feast! - - - -With the plan of proceeding which I now had in view, it was -first necessary to possess the complete list of the guests. -This I could easily obtain from Gabriel Betteredge. -I determined to go back to Yorkshire on that day, and to begin my -contemplated investigation the next morning. - -It was just too late to start by the train which left London before noon. -There was no alternative but to wait, nearly three hours, for the departure of -the next train. Was there anything I could do in London, which might usefully -occupy this interval of time? - -My thoughts went back again obstinately to the birthday dinner. - -Though I had forgotten the numbers, and, in many cases, -the names of the guests, I remembered readily enough that by far -the larger proportion of them came from Frizinghall, or from -its neighbourhood. But the larger proportion was not all. -Some few of us were not regular residents in the country. -I myself was one of the few. Mr. Murthwaite was another. -Godfrey Ablewhite was a third. Mr. Bruff--no: I called to mind -that business had prevented Mr. Bruff from making one of the party. -Had any ladies been present, whose usual residence was in London? -I could only remember Miss Clack as coming within this -latter category. However, here were three of the guests, -at any rate, whom it was clearly advisable for me to see -before I left town. I drove off at once to Mr. Bruff's office; -not knowing the addresses of the persons of whom I was in search, -and thinking it probable that he might put me in the way of -finding them. - -Mr. Bruff proved to be too busy to give me more than a minute of his -valuable time. In that minute, however, he contrived to dispose-- -in the most discouraging manner--of all the questions I had to put -to him. - -In the first place, he considered my newly-discovered method of finding a clue -to the mystery as something too purely fanciful to be seriously discussed. -In the second, third, and fourth places, Mr. Murthwaite was now on his way -back to the scene of his past adventures; Miss Clack had suffered losses, -and had settled, from motives of economy, in France; Mr. Godfrey -Ablewhite might, or might not, be discoverable somewhere in London. -Suppose I inquired at his club? And suppose I excused Mr. Bruff, if he went -back to his business and wished me good morning? - -The field of inquiry in London, being now so narrowed as only to include -the one necessity of discovering Godfrey's address, I took the lawyer's hint, -and drove to his club. - -In the hall, I met with one of the members, who was an old friend -of my cousin's, and who was also an acquaintance of my own. -This gentleman, after enlightening me on the subject of -Godfrey's address, told me of two recent events in his life, -which were of some importance in themselves, and which had not -previously reached my ears. - -It appeared that Godfrey, far from being discouraged by Rachel's -withdrawal from her engagement to him had made matrimonial advances -soon afterwards to another young lady, reputed to be a great heiress. -His suit had prospered, and his marriage had been considered -as a settled and certain thing. But, here again, the engagement -had been suddenly and unexpectedly broken off--owing, it was said, -on this occasion, to a serious difference of opinion between the -bridegroom and the lady's father, on the question of settlements. - -As some compensation for this second matrimonial disaster, -Godfrey had soon afterwards found himself the object of fond -pecuniary remembrance, on the part of one of his many admirers. -A rich old lady--highly respected at the Mothers' -Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society, and a great friend of -Miss Clack's (to whom she left nothing but a mourning ring)-- -had bequeathed to the admirable and meritorious Godfrey -a legacy of five thousand pounds. After receiving this -handsome addition to his own modest pecuniary resources, -he had been heard to say that he felt the necessity -of getting a little respite from his charitable labours, -and that his doctor prescribed "a run on the Continent, -as likely to be productive of much future benefit to his health." -If I wanted to see him, it would be advisable to lose no time in -paying my contemplated visit. - -I went, then and there, to pay my visit. - -The same fatality which had made me just one day too late in calling -on Sergeant Cuff, made me again one day too late in calling on Godfrey. -He had left London, on the previous morning, by the tidal train, -for Dover. He was to cross to Ostend; and his servant believed he was -going on to Brussels. The time of his return was rather uncertain; -but I might be sure he would be away at least three months. - -I went back to my lodgings a little depressed in spirits. -Three of the guests at the birthday dinner--and those three -all exceptionally intelligent people--were out of my reach, -at the very time when it was most important to be able to -communicate with them. My last hopes now rested on Betteredge, -and on the friends of the late Lady Verinder whom I might still -find living in the neighbourhood of Rachel's country house. - - - -On this occasion, I travelled straight to Frizinghall-- -the town being now the central point in my field of inquiry. -I arrived too late in the evening to be able to communicate -with Betteredge. The next morning, I sent a messenger -with a letter, requesting him to join me at the hotel, at his -earliest convenience. - -Having taken the precaution--partly to save time, partly to -accommodate Betteredge--of sending my messenger in a fly, -I had a reasonable prospect, if no delays occurred, -of seeing the old man within less than two hours from -the time when I had sent for him. During this interval, -I arranged to employ myself in opening my contemplated inquiry, -among the guests present at the birthday dinner who were -personally known to me, and who were easily within my reach. -These were my relatives, the Ablewhites, and Mr. Candy. -The doctor had expressed a special wish to see me, -and the doctor lived in the next street. So to Mr. Candy I -went first. - -After what Betteredge had told me, I naturally anticipated finding traces -in the doctor's face of the severe illness from which he had suffered. -But I was utterly unprepared for such a change as I saw in him when -he entered the room and shook hands with me. His eyes were dim; his hair -had turned completely grey; his face was wizen; his figure had shrunk. -I looked at the once lively, rattlepated, humorous little doctor-- -associated in my remembrance with the perpetration of incorrigible -social indiscretions and innumerable boyish jokes--and I saw nothing -left of his former self, but the old tendency to vulgar smartness -in his dress. The man was a wreck; but his clothes and his jewellery-- -in cruel mockery of the change in him--were as gay and as gaudy -as ever. - -"I have often thought of you, Mr. Blake," he said; "and I am heartily -glad to see you again at last. If there is anything I can do for you, -pray command my services, sir--pray command my services!" - -He said those few commonplace words with needless hurry and eagerness, -and with a curiosity to know what had brought me to Yorkshire, -which he was perfectly--I might say childishly--incapable of concealing -from notice. - -With the object that I had in view, I had of course foreseen -the necessity of entering into some sort of personal explanation, -before I could hope to interest people, mostly strangers to me, -in doing their best to assist my inquiry. On the journey -to Frizinghall I had arranged what my explanation was to be-- -and I seized the opportunity now offered to me of trying the effect -of it on Mr. Candy. - -"I was in Yorkshire, the other day, and I am in Yorkshire again now, -on rather a romantic errand," I said. "It is a matter, Mr. Candy, -in which the late Lady Verinder's friends all took some interest. -You remember the mysterious loss of the Indian Diamond, now nearly -a year since? Circumstances have lately happened which lead -to the hope that it may yet be found--and I am interesting myself, -as one of the family, in recovering it. Among the obstacles -in my way, there is the necessity of collecting again all the -evidence which was discovered at the time, and more if possible. -There are peculiarities in this case which make it desirable -to revive my recollection of everything that happened in the house, -on the evening of Miss Verinder's birthday. And I venture to appeal -to her late mother's friends who were present on that occasion, to lend -me the assistance of their memories----" - -I had got as far as that in rehearsing my explanatory phrases, -when I was suddenly checked by seeing plainly in Mr. Candy's -face that my experiment on him was a total failure. - -The little doctor sat restlessly picking at the points of his fingers -all the time I was speaking. His dim watery eyes were fixed on my face -with an expression of vacant and wistful inquiry very painful to see. -What he was thinking of, it was impossible to divine. The one thing -clearly visible was that I had failed, after the first two or three words, -in fixing his attention. The only chance of recalling him to himself appeared -to lie in changing the subject. I tried a new topic immediately. - -"So much," I said, gaily, "for what brings me to Frizinghall! Now, Mr. Candy, -it's your turn. You sent me a message by Gabriel Betteredge----" - -He left off picking at his fingers, and suddenly brightened up. - -"Yes! yes! yes!" he exclaimed eagerly. "That's it! I sent you a message!" - -"And Betteredge duly communicated it by letter," I went on. -You had something to say to me, the next time I was in -your neighbourhood. Well, Mr. Candy, here I am!" - -"Here you are!" echoed the doctor. "And Betteredge was quite right. -I had something to say to you. That was my message. Betteredge is a -wonderful man. What a memory! At his age, what a memory!" - -He dropped back into silence, and began picking at his fingers again. -Recollecting what I had heard from Betteredge about the effect of the fever -on his memory, I went on with the conversation, in the hope that I -might help him at starting. - -"It's a long time since we met, I said. "We last saw each other -at the last birthday dinner my poor aunt was ever to give." - -"That's it!" cried Mr. Candy. "The birthday dinner!" -He started impulsively to his feet, and looked at me. -A deep flush suddenly overspread his faded face, and he -abruptly sat down again, as if conscious of having betrayed -a weakness which he would fain have concealed. It was plain, -pitiably plain, that he was aware of his own defect of memory, -and that he was bent on hiding it from the observation of -his friends. - -Thus far he had appealed to my compassion only. But the words -he had just said--few as they were--roused my curiosity -instantly to the highest pitch. The birthday dinner had -already become the one event in the past, at which I looked -back with strangely-mixed feelings of hope and distrust. -And here was the birthday dinner unmistakably proclaiming itself -as the subject on which Mr. Candy had something important -to say to me! - -I attempted to help him out once more. But, this time, -my own interests were at the bottom of my compassionate motive, -and they hurried me on a little too abruptly, to the end I had -in view. - -"It's nearly a year now," I said, "since we sat at that pleasant table. -Have you made any memorandum--in your diary, or otherwise--of what you wanted -to say to me?" - -Mr. Candy understood the suggestion, and showed me that he understood it, -as an insult. - -"I require no memorandum, Mr. Blake," he said, stiffly enough. -"I am not such a very old man, yet--and my memory (thank God) -is to be thoroughly depended on!" - -It is needless to say that I declined to understand that he was offended -with me. - -"I wish I could say the same of my memory," I answered. -"When I try to think of matters that are a year old, I seldom -find my remembrance as vivid as I could wish it to be. -Take the dinner at Lady Verinder's, for instance----" - -Mr. Candy brightened up again, the moment the allusion passed my lips. - -"Ah! the dinner, the dinner at Lady Verinder's!" he exclaimed, -more eagerly than ever. "I have got something to say to you -about that." - -His eyes looked at me again with the painful expression of inquiry, -so wistful, so vacant, so miserably helpless to see. He was evidently -trying hard, and trying in vain, to recover the lost recollection. -"It was a very pleasant dinner," he burst out suddenly, with an air -of saying exactly what he wanted to say. "A very pleasant dinner, -Mr. Blake, wasn't it?" He nodded and smiled, and appeared to think, -poor fellow, that he had succeeded in concealing the total failure -of his memory, by a well-timed exertion of his own presence -of mind. - -It was so distressing that I at once shifted the talk-- -deeply as I was interested in his recovering the lost remembrance-- -to topics of local interest. - -Here, he got on glibly enough. Trumpery little scandals -and quarrels in the town, some of them as much as a month old, -appeared to recur to his memory readily. He chattered on, -with something of the smooth gossiping fluency of former times. -But there were moments, even in the full flow of his talkativeness, -when he suddenly hesitated--looked at me for a moment with the vacant -inquiry once more in his eyes--controlled himself--and went on again. -I submitted patiently to my martyrdom (it is surely nothing -less than martyrdom to a man of cosmopolitan sympathies, -to absorb in silent resignation the news of a country town?) -until the clock on the chimney-piece told me that my visit -had been prolonged beyond half an hour. Having now some right -to consider the sacrifice as complete, I rose to take leave. -As we shook hands, Mr. Candy reverted to the birthday festival of his -own accord. - -"I am so glad we have met again," he said. "I had it on my mind-- -I really had it on my mind, Mr. Blake, to speak to you. -About the dinner at Lady Verinder's, you know? A pleasant dinner-- -really a pleasant dinner now, wasn't it?" - -On repeating the phrase, he seemed to feel hardly as certain -of having prevented me from suspecting his lapse of memory, -as he had felt on the first occasion. The wistful look clouded -his face again: and, after apparently designing to accompany me -to the street door, he suddenly changed his mind, rang the bell -for the servant, and remained in the drawing-room. - -I went slowly down the doctor's stairs, feeling the disheartening -conviction that he really had something to say which it was vitally -important to me to hear, and that he was morally incapable of saying it. -The effort of remembering that he wanted to speak to me was, -but too evidently, the only effort that his enfeebled memory was now -able to achieve. - -Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, and had turned a corner on -my way to the outer hall, a door opened softly somewhere on the ground -floor of the house, and a gentle voice said behind me:-- - -"I am afraid, sir, you find Mr. Candy sadly changed?" - -I turned round, and found myself face to face with Ezra Jennings. - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -The doctor's pretty housemaid stood waiting for me, with the street -door open in her hand. Pouring brightly into the hall, the morning -light fell full on the face of Mr. Candy's assistant when I turned, -and looked at him. - -It was impossible to dispute Betteredge's assertion that the appearance -of Ezra Jennings, speaking from a popular point of view, was against him. -His gipsy-complexion, his fleshless cheeks, his gaunt facial bones, -his dreamy eyes, his extraordinary parti-coloured hair, the puzzling -contradiction between his face and figure which made him look old -and young both together--were all more or less calculated to produce -an unfavourable impression of him on a stranger's mind. And yet-- -feeling this as I certainly did--it is not to be denied that Ezra -Jennings made some inscrutable appeal to my sympathies, which I found it -impossible to resist. While my knowledge of the world warned me to answer -the question which he had put, acknowledging that I did indeed find -Mr. Candy sadly changed, and then to proceed on my way out of the house-- -my interest in Ezra Jennings held me rooted to the place, and gave -him the opportunity of speaking to me in private about his employer, -for which he had been evidently on the watch. - -"Are you walking my way, Mr. Jennings?" I said, observing that he held -his hat in his hand. "I am going to call on my aunt, Mrs. Ablewhite." - -Ezra Jennings replied that he had a patient to see, and that he was walking -my way. - -We left the house together. I observed that the pretty servant girl-- -who was all smiles and amiability, when I wished her good morning -on my way out--received a modest little message from Ezra Jennings, -relating to the time at which he might be expected to return, -with pursed-up lips, and with eyes which ostentatiously looked -anywhere rather than look in his face. The poor wretch was evidently -no favourite in the house. Out of the house, I had Betteredge's -word for it that he was unpopular everywhere. "What a life!" -I thought to myself, as we descended the doctor's doorsteps. - -Having already referred to Mr. Candy's illness on his side, Ezra Jennings -now appeared determined to leave it to me to resume the subject. -His silence said significantly, "It's your turn now." I, too, had my -reasons for referring to the doctor's illness: and I readily accepted -the responsibility of speaking first. - -"Judging by the change I see in him," I began, "Mr. Candy's -illness must have been far more serious that I had supposed?" - -"It is almost a miracle," said Ezra Jennings, "that he lived through it." - -"Is his memory never any better than I have found it to-day? -He has been trying to speak to me----" - -"Of something which happened before he was taken ill?" asked the assistant, -observing that I hesitated. - -"Yes." - -"His memory of events, at that past time, is hopelessly enfeebled," -said Ezra Jennings. "It is almost to be deplored, poor fellow, -that even the wreck of it remains. While he remembers dimly -plans that he formed--things, here and there, that he had to say -or do before his illness--he is perfectly incapable of recalling -what the plans were, or what the thing was that he had to say or do. -He is painfully conscious of his own deficiency, and painfully anxious, -as you must have seen, to hide it from observation. If he could -only have recovered in a complete state of oblivion as to the past, -he would have been a happier man. Perhaps we should all be happier," -he added, with a sad smile, "if we could but completely forget!" - -"There are some events surely in all men's lives," I replied, -"the memory of which they would be unwilling entirely to lose?" - -"That is, I hope, to be said of most men, Mr. Blake. I am afraid -it cannot truly be said of ALL. Have you any reason to suppose -that the lost remembrance which Mr. Candy tried to recover-- -while you were speaking to him just now--was a remembrance which it -was important to YOU that he should recall?" - -In saying those words, he had touched, of his own accord, -on the very point upon which I was anxious to consult him. -The interest I felt in this strange man had impelled me, -in the first instance, to give him the opportunity of speaking -to me; reserving what I might have to say, on my side, -in relation to his employer, until I was first satisfied that -he was a person in whose delicacy and discretion I could trust. -The little that he had said, thus far, had been sufficient -to convince me that I was speaking to a gentleman. -He had what I may venture to describe as the UNSOUGHT -SELF-POSSESSION, which is a sure sign of good breeding, -not in England only, but everywhere else in the civilised world. -Whatever the object which he had in view, in putting -the question that he had just addressed to me, I felt -no doubt that I was justified--so far--in answering him -without reserve. - -"I believe I have a strong interest," I said, "in tracing -the lost remembrance which Mr. Candy was unable to recall. -May I ask whether you can suggest to me any method by which I -might assist his memory?" - -Ezra Jennings looked at me, with a sudden flash of interest -in his dreamy brown eyes. - -"Mr. Candy's memory is beyond the reach of assistance," he said. -"I have tried to help it often enough since his recovery, to be able -to speak positively on that point." - -This disappointed me; and I owned it. - -"I confess you led me to hope for a less discouraging answer than that," -I said. - -Ezra Jennings smiled. "It may not, perhaps, be a final answer, Mr. Blake. -It may be possible to trace Mr. Candy's lost recollection, without the -necessity of appealing to Mr. Candy himself." - -"Indeed? Is it an indiscretion, on my part, to ask how?" - -"By no means. My only difficulty in answering your question, -is the difficulty of explaining myself. May I trust to -your patience, if I refer once more to Mr. Candy's illness: -and if I speak of it this time without sparing you certain -professional details?" - -"Pray go on! You have interested me already in hearing the details." - -My eagerness seemed to amuse--perhaps, I might rather say, to please him. -He smiled again. We had by this time left the last houses in the town -behind us. Ezra Jennings stopped for a moment, and picked some wild -flowers from the hedge by the roadside. "How beautiful they are!" -he said, simply, showing his little nosegay to me. "And how few people in -England seem to admire them as they deserve!" - -"You have not always been in England?" I said. - -"No. I was born, and partly brought up, in one of our colonies. -My father was an Englishman; but my mother---- - We are straying away from our subject, Mr. Blake; and -it is my fault. The truth is, I have associations with these modest little -hedgeside flowers----" It doesn't matter; we were speaking of Mr. Candy. -To Mr. Candy let us return." - -Connecting the few words about himself which thus reluctantly -escaped him, with the melancholy view of life which led him to place -the conditions of human happiness in complete oblivion of the past, -I felt satisfied that the story which I had read in his face was, -in two particulars at least, the story that it really told. -He had suffered as few men suffer; and there was the mixture of some -foreign race in his English blood. - -"You have heard, I dare say, of the original cause of Mr. Candy's illness?" -he resumed. "The night of Lady Verinder's dinner-party was a night -of heavy rain. My employer drove home through it in his gig, -and reached the house wetted to the skin. He found an urgent message -from a patient, waiting for him; and he most unfortunately went at once -to visit the sick person, without stopping to change his clothes. -I was myself professionally detained, that night, by a case at some -distance from Frizinghall. When I got back the next morning, I found -Mr. Candy's groom waiting in great alarm to take me to his master's room. -By that time the mischief was done; the illness had set in." - -"The illness has only been described to me, in general terms, as a fever," -I said. - -"I can add nothing which will make the description more accurate," -answered Ezra Jennings. "From first to last the fever assumed -no specific form. I sent at once to two of Mr. Candy's medical -friends in the town, both physicians, to come and give me their -opinion of the case. They agreed with me that it looked serious; -but they both strongly dissented from the view I took of the treatment. -We differed entirely in the conclusions which we drew from -the patient's pulse. The two doctors, arguing from the rapidity -of the beat, declared that a lowering treatment was the only treatment -to be adopted. On my side, I admitted the rapidity of the pulse, -but I also pointed to its alarming feebleness as indicating -an exhausted condition of the system, and as showing a plain -necessity for the administration of stimulants. The two doctors -were for keeping him on gruel, lemonade, barley-water, and so on. -I was for giving him champagne, or brandy, ammonia, and quinine. -A serious difference of opinion, as you see! a difference between -two physicians of established local repute, and a stranger -who was only an assistant in the house. For the first few days, -I had no choice but to give way to my elders and betters; -the patient steadily sinking all the time. I made a second attempt -to appeal to the plain, undeniably plain, evidence of the pulse. -Its rapidity was unchecked, and its feebleness had increased. -The two doctors took offence at my obstinacy. They said, -"Mr. Jennings, either we manage this case, or you manage it. -Which is it to be?" I said, "Gentlemen, give me five minutes -to consider, and that plain question shall have a plain reply." -When the time expired, I was ready with my answer. I said, -"You positively refuse to try the stimulant treatment?" -They refused in so many words. "I mean to try it at once, -gentlemen."--"Try it, Mr. Jennings, and we withdraw from the case." -I sent down to the cellar for a bottle of champagne; and I administered -half a tumbler-full of it to the patient with my own hand. -The two physicians took up their hats in silence, and left the -house." - -"You had assumed a serious responsibility," I said. In your place, -I am afraid I should have shrunk from it." - -"In my place, Mr. Blake, you would have remembered that Mr. Candy -had taken you into his employment, under circumstances which made you -his debtor for life. In my place, you would have seen him sinking, -hour by hour; and you would have risked anything, rather than let -the one man on earth who had befriended you, die before your eyes. -Don't suppose that I had no sense of the terrible position in which I -had placed myself! There were moments when I felt all the misery -of my friendlessness, all the peril of my dreadful responsibility. -If I had been a happy man, if I had led a prosperous life, -I believe I should have sunk under the task I had imposed on myself. -But I had no happy time to look back at, no past peace of mind -to force itself into contrast with my present anxiety and suspense-- -and I held firm to my resolution through it all. I took an interval -in the middle of the day, when my patient's condition was at its best, -for the repose I needed. For the rest of the four-and-twenty hours, -as long as his life was in danger, I never left his bedside. -Towards sunset, as usual in such cases, the delirium incidental -to the fever came on. It lasted more or less through the night; -and then intermitted, at that terrible time in the early morning-- -from two o'clock to five--when the vital energies even of the healthiest -of us are at their lowest. It is then that Death gathers in his -human harvest most abundantly. It was then that Death and I fought -our fight over the bed, which should have the man who lay on it. -I never hesitated in pursuing the treatment on which I -had staked everything. When wine failed, I tried brandy. -When the other stimulants lost their influence, I doubled the dose. -After an interval of suspense--the like of which I hope to God -I shall never feel again--there came a day when the rapidity of -the pulse slightly, but appreciably, diminished; and, better still, -there came also a change in the beat--an unmistakable change -to steadiness and strength. THEN, I knew that I had saved him; -and then I own I broke down. I laid the poor fellow's wasted hand -back on the bed, and burst out crying. An hysterical relief, -Mr. Blake--nothing more! Physiology says, and says truly, -that some men are born with female constitutions--and I am one of -them!" - -He made that bitterly professional apology for his tears, -speaking quietly and unaffectedly, as he had spoken throughout. -His tone and manner, from beginning to end, showed him to -be especially, almost morbidly, anxious not to set himself up -as an object of interest to me. - -"You may well ask, why I have wearied you with all these details?" -he went on. "It is the only way I can see, Mr. Blake, -of properly introducing to you what I have to say next. -Now you know exactly what my position was, at the time -of Mr. Candy's illness, you will the more readily understand -the sore need I had of lightening the burden on my mind -by giving it, at intervals, some sort of relief. I have had -the presumption to occupy my leisure, for some years past, -in writing a book, addressed to the members of my profession-- -a book on the intricate and delicate subject of the brain and -the nervous system. My work will probably never be finished; -and it will certainly never be published. It has none the less -been the friend of many lonely hours; and it helped me to while -away the anxious time--the time of waiting, and nothing else-- -at Mr. Candy's bedside. I told you he was delirious, -I think? And I mentioned the time at which his delirium -came on?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, I had reached a section of my book, at that time, -which touched on this same question of delirium. I won't trouble -you at any length with my theory on the subject--I will confine -myself to telling you only what it is your present interest to know. -It has often occurred to me in the course of my medical practice, -to doubt whether we can justifiably infer--in cases of delirium-- -that the loss of the faculty of speaking connectedly, implies of -necessity the loss of the faculty of thinking connectedly as well. -Poor Mr. Candy's illness gave me an opportunity of putting this -doubt to the test. I understand the art of writing in shorthand; -and I was able to take down the patient's "wanderings", exactly as they -fell from his lips.--Do you see, Mr. Blake, what I am coming to -at last?" - -I saw it clearly, and waited with breathless interest to hear more. - -"At odds and ends of time," Ezra Jennings went on, "I reproduced -my shorthand notes, in the ordinary form of writing--leaving large -spaces between the broken phrases, and even the single words, -as they had fallen disconnectedly from Mr. Candy's lips. -I then treated the result thus obtained, on something like the -principle which one adopts in putting together a child's 'puzzle.' -It is all confusion to begin with; but it may be all brought -into order and shape, if you can only find the right way. -Acting on this plan, I filled in each blank space on the paper, -with what the words or phrases on either side of it suggested -to me as the speaker's meaning; altering over and over again, -until my additions followed naturally on the spoken words -which came before them, and fitted naturally into the spoken -words which came after them. The result was, that I not -only occupied in this way many vacant and anxious hours, -but that I arrived at something which was (as it seemed to me) -a confirmation of the theory that I held. In plainer words, -after putting the broken sentences together I found the superior -faculty of thinking going on, more or less connectedly, -in my patient's mind, while the inferior faculty of -expression was in a state of almost complete incapacity -and confusion." - -"One word!" I interposed eagerly. "Did my name occur in any -of his wanderings?" - -"You shall hear, Mr. Blake. Among my written proofs of -the assertion which I have just advanced--or, I ought to say, -among the written experiments, tending to put my assertion -to the proof--there IS one, in which your name occurs. -For nearly the whole of one night, Mr. Candy's mind -was occupied with SOMETHING between himself and you. -I have got the broken words, as they dropped from his lips, -on one sheet of paper. And I have got the links of my own -discovering which connect those words together, on another -sheet of paper. The product (as the arithmeticians would say) -is an intelligible statement--first, of something actually done -in the past; secondly, of something which Mr. Candy contemplated -doing in the future, if his illness had not got in the way, -and stopped him. The question is whether this does, or does not, -represent the lost recollection which he vainly attempted to find -when you called on him this morning?" - -"Not a doubt of it!" I answered. "Let us go back directly, -and look at the papers!" - -"Quite impossible, Mr. Blake." - -"Why?" - -"Put yourself in my position for a moment," said Ezra Jennings. -"Would you disclose to another person what had dropped unconsciously -from the lips of your suffering patient and your helpless friend, -without first knowing that there was a necessity to justify you -in opening your lips?" - -I felt that he was unanswerable, here; but I tried to argue -the question, nevertheless. - -"My conduct in such a delicate matter as you describe," I replied, -"would depend greatly on whether the disclosure was of a nature -to compromise my friend or not." - -"I have disposed of all necessity for considering that side of the question, -long since," said Ezra Jennings. "Wherever my notes included anything which -Mr. Candy might have wished to keep secret, those notes have been destroyed. -My manuscript experiments at my friend's bedside, include nothing, now, -which he would have hesitated to communicate to others, if he had recovered -the use of his memory. In your case, I have every reason to suppose that my -notes contain something which he actually wished to say to you - -"And yet, you hesitate?" - -"And yet, I hesitate. Remember the circumstances under which I -obtained the information which I possess! Harmless as it is, -I cannot prevail upon myself to give it up to you, unless you -first satisfy me that there is a reason for doing so. -He was so miserably ill, Mr. Blake! and he was so helplessly -dependent upon Me! Is it too much to ask, if I request you only -to hint to me what your interest is in the lost recollection-- -or what you believe that lost recollection to be?" - -To have answered him with the frankness which his language and his -manner both claimed from me, would have been to commit myself to openly -acknowledging that I was suspected of the theft of the Diamond. -Strongly as Ezra Jennings had intensified the first impulsive interest -which I had felt in him, he had not overcome my unconquerable -reluctance to disclose the degrading position in which I stood. -I took refuge once more in the explanatory phrases with which I had -prepared myself to meet the curiosity of strangers - -This time I had no reason to complain of a want of attention -on the part of the person to whom I addressed myself. -Ezra Jennings listened patiently, even anxiously, until I -had done. - -"I am sorry to have raised your expectations, Mr. Blake, -only to disappoint them," he said. "Throughout the whole -period of Mr. Candy's illness, from first to last, not one -word about the Diamond escaped his lips. The matter with -which I heard him connect your name has, I can assure you, -no discoverable relation whatever with the loss or the recovery -of Miss Verinder's jewel." - -We arrived, as he said those words, at a place where the highway -along which we had been walking branched off into two roads. -One led to Mr. Ablewhite's house, and the other to a moorland -village some two or three miles off. Ezra Jennings stopped at -the road which led to the village. - -"My way lies in this direction," he said. "I am really and truly sorry, -Mr. Blake, that I can be of no use to you." - -His voice told me that he spoke sincerely. His soft brown eyes -rested on me for a moment with a look of melancholy interest. -He bowed, and went, without another word, on his way to -the village. - -For a minute or more I stood and watched him, walking farther -and farther away from me; carrying farther and farther away with him -what I now firmly believed to be the clue of which I was in search. -He turned, after walking on a little way, and looked back. -Seeing me still standing at the place where we had parted, he stopped, -as if doubting whether I might not wish to speak to him again. -There was no time for me to reason out my own situation-- -to remind myself that I was losing my opportunity, at what might -be the turning point of my life, and all to flatter nothing -more important than my own self-esteem! There was only time -to call him back first, and to think afterwards. I suspect I am -one of the rashest of existing men. I called him back--and then -I said to myself, "Now there is no help for it. I must tell him -the truth!" - -He retraced his steps directly. I advanced along the road to meet him. - -"Mr. Jennings," I said. "I have not treated you quite fairly. -My interest in tracing Mr. Candy's lost recollection is not -the interest of recovering the Moonstone. A serious personal -matter is at the bottom of my visit to Yorkshire. I have but one -excuse for not having dealt frankly with you in this matter. -It is more painful to me than I can say, to mention to anybody -what my position really is." - -Ezra Jennings looked at me with the first appearance of embarrassment -which I had seen in him yet. - -"I have no right, Mr. Blake, and no wish," he said, "to intrude myself into -your private affairs. Allow me to ask your pardon, on my side, for having -(most innocently) put you to a painful test." - -"You have a perfect right," I rejoined, "to fix the terms on which you -feel justified in revealing what you heard at Mr. Candy's bedside. -I understand and respect the delicacy which influences you in this matter. -How can I expect to be taken into your confidence if I decline -to admit you into mine? You ought to know, and you shall know, -why I am interested in discovering what Mr. Candy wanted to say to me. -If I turn out to be mistaken in my anticipations, and if you prove unable -to help me when you are really aware of what I want, I shall trust to your -honour to keep my secret--and something tells me that I shall not trust -in vain." - -"Stop, Mr. Blake. I have a word to say, which must be said -before you go any farther." I looked at him in astonishment. -The grip of some terrible emotion seemed to have seized him, -and shaken him to the soul. His gipsy complexion had altered -to a livid greyish paleness; his eyes had suddenly become -wild and glittering; his voice had dropped to a tone-- -low, stern, and resolute--which I now heard for the first time. -The latent resources in the man, for good or for evil-- -it was hard, at that moment, to say which--leapt up in him -and showed themselves to me, with the suddenness of a flash -of light. - -"Before you place any confidence in me," he went on, "you ought to know, -and you MUST know, under what circumstances I have been received into -Mr. Candy's house. It won't take long. I don't profess, sir, to tell -my story (as the phrase is) to any man. My story will die with me. -All I ask, is to be permitted to tell you, what I have told Mr. Candy. -If you are still in the mind, when you have heard that, to say what you -have proposed to say, you will command my attention and command my services. -Shall we walk on?" - -The suppressed misery in his face silenced me. I answered his question -by a sign. We walked on. - -After advancing a few hundred yards, Ezra Jennings stopped at a gap -in the rough stone wall which shut off the moor from the road, -at this part of it. - -"Do you mind resting a little, Mr. Blake?" he asked. "I am not what I was-- -and some things shake me." - -I agreed of course. He led the way through the gap to a patch of turf on -the heathy ground, screened by bushes and dwarf trees on the side nearest -to the road, and commanding in the opposite direction a grandly desolate -view over the broad brown wilderness of the moor. The clouds had gathered, -within the last half hour. The light was dull; the distance was dim. -The lovely face of Nature met us, soft and still colourless--met us without -a smile. - -We sat down in silence. Ezra Jennings laid aside his hat, -and passed his hand wearily over his forehead, wearily through -his startling white and black hair. He tossed his little -nosegay of wild flowers away from him, as if the remembrances -which it recalled were remembrances which hurt him now. - -"Mr. Blake!" he said, suddenly. "You are in bad company. -The cloud of a horrible accusation has rested on me for years. -I tell you the worst at once. I am a man whose life is a wreck, -and whose character is gone." - -I attempted to speak. He stopped me. - -"No," he said. "Pardon me; not yet. Don't commit yourself to -expressions of sympathy which you may afterwards wish to recall. -I have mentioned an accusation which has rested on me for years. -There are circumstances in connexion with it that tell against me. -I cannot bring myself to acknowledge what the accusation is. -And I am incapable, perfectly incapable, of proving my innocence. -I can only assert my innocence. I assert it, sir, on my oath, -as a Christian. It is useless to appeal to my honour as a man." - -He paused again. I looked round at him. He never looked at me in return. -His whole being seemed to be absorbed in the agony of recollecting, and in -the effort to speak. - -"There is much that I might say," he went on, -"about the merciless treatment of me by my own family, -and the merciless enmity to which I have fallen a victim. -But the harm is done; the wrong is beyond all remedy. -I decline to weary or distress you, sir, if I can help it. -At the outset of my career in this country, the vile slander -to which I have referred struck me down at once and for ever. -I resigned my aspirations in my profession--obscurity was -the only hope left for me. I parted with the woman I loved-- -how could I condemn her to share my disgrace? A medical -assistant's place offered itself, in a remote corner of England. -I got the place. It promised me peace; it promised me obscurity, -as I thought. I was wrong. Evil report, with time and -chance to help it, travels patiently, and travels far. -The accusation from which I had fled followed me. -I got warning of its approach. I was able to leave my -situation voluntarily, with the testimonials that I had earned. -They got me another situation in another remote district. -Time passed again; and again the slander that was death to my -character found me out. On this occasion I had no warning. -My employer said, "Mr. Jennings, I have no complaint to make -against you; but you must set yourself right, or leave me." -I had but one choice--I left him. It's useless to dwell on -what I suffered after that. I am only forty years old now. -Look at my face, and let it tell for me the story of some -miserable years. It ended in my drifting to this place, -and meeting with Mr. Candy. He wanted an assistant. -I referred him, on the question of capacity, to my last employer. -The question of character remained. I told him what I have told you-- -and more. I warned him that there were difficulties in the way, -even if he believed me. "Here, as elsewhere," I said "I -scorn the guilty evasion of living under an assumed name: -I am no safer at Frizinghall than at other places from -the cloud that follows me, go where I may." He answered, -"I don't do things by halves--I believe you, and I pity you. -If you will risk what may happen, I will risk it too." -God Almighty bless him! He has given me shelter, -he has given me employment, he has given me rest of mind-- -and I have the certain conviction (I have had it for some -months past) that nothing will happen now to make him regret -it." - -"The slander has died out?" I said. - -"The slander is as active as ever. But when it follows me here, -it will come too late." - -"You will have left the place?" - -"No, Mr. Blake--I shall be dead. For ten years past I -have suffered from an incurable internal complaint. I don't -disguise from you that I should have let the agony of it kill -me long since, but for one last interest in life, which makes -my existence of some importance to me still. I want to provide -for a person--very dear to me--whom I shall never see again. -My own little patrimony is hardly sufficient to make her independent -of the world. The hope, if I could only live long enough, -of increasing it to a certain sum, has impelled me to resist -the disease by such palliative means as I could devise. -The one effectual palliative in my case, is--opium. To that -all-potent and all-merciful drug I am indebted for a respite -of many years from my sentence of death. But even the virtues -of opium have their limit. The progress of the disease has -gradually forced me from the use of opium to the abuse of it. -I am feeling the penalty at last. My nervous system is shattered; -my nights are nights of horror. The end is not far off now. -Let it come--I have not lived and worked in vain. The little -sum is nearly made up; and I have the means of completing it, -if my last reserves of life fail me sooner than I expect. -I hardly know how I have wandered into telling you this. -I don't think I am mean enough to appeal to your pity. -Perhaps, I fancy you may be all the readier to believe me, -if you know that what I have said to you, I have said -with the certain knowledge in me that I am a dying man. -There is no disguising, Mr. Blake, that you interest me. -I have attempted to make my poor friend's loss of memory -the means of bettering my acquaintance with you. I have -speculated on the chance of your feeling a passing curiosity -about what he wanted to say, and of my being able to satisfy it. -Is there no excuse for my intruding myself on you? -Perhaps there is some excuse. A man who has lived as I have lived -has his bitter moments when he ponders over human destiny. -You have youth, health, riches, a place in the world, a prospect -before you. You, and such as you, show me the sunny side of -human life, and reconcile me with the world that I am leaving, -before I go. However this talk between us may end, I shall not -forget that you have done me a kindness in doing that. It rests -with you, sir, to say what you proposed saying, or to wish me good -morning." - -I had but one answer to make to that appeal. Without a moment's hesitation -I told him the truth, as unreservedly as I have told it in these pages. - -He started to his feet, and looked at me with breathless eagerness -as I approached the leading incident of my story. - -"It is certain that I went into the room," I said; "it is certain that I -took the Diamond. I can only meet those two plain facts by declaring that, -do what I might, I did it without my own knowledge----" - -Ezra Jennings caught me excitedly by the arm. - -"Stop!" he said. "You have suggested more to me than you suppose. -Have you ever been accustomed to the use of opium?" - -"I never tasted it in my life." - -"Were your nerves out of order, at this time last year? -Were you unusually restless and irritable?" - -"Yes." - -"Did you sleep badly?" - -"Wretchedly. Many nights I never slept at all." - -"Was the birthday night an exception? Try, and remember. -Did you sleep well on that one occasion?" - -"I do remember! I slept soundly." - -He dropped my arm as suddenly as he had taken it--and looked at me -with the air of a man whose mind was relieved of the last doubt -that rested on it. - -"This is a marked day in your life, and in mine," he said, gravely. "I am -absolutely certain, Mr. Blake, of one thing--I have got what Mr. Candy wanted -to say to you this morning, in the notes that I took at my patient's bedside. -Wait! that is not all. I am firmly persuaded that I can prove you to have -been unconscious of what you were about, when you entered the room and took -the Diamond. Give me time to think, and time to question you. I believe -the vindication of your innocence is in my hands!" - -"Explain yourself, for God's sake! What do you mean?" - -In the excitement of our colloquy, we had walked on a few steps, -beyond the clump of dwarf trees which had hitherto screened us from view. -Before Ezra Jennings could answer me, he was hailed from the high road -by a man, in great agitation, who had been evidently on the look-out -for him. - -"I am coming," he called back; "I am coming as fast as I can!" -He turned to me. "There is an urgent case waiting for me at -the village yonder; I ought to have been there half an hour since-- -I must attend to it at once. Give me two hours from this time, -and call at Mr. Candy's again--and I will engage to be ready -for you." - -"How am I to wait!" I exclaimed, impatiently. "Can't you quiet -my mind by a word of explanation before we part?" - -"This is far too serious a matter to be explained in a hurry, Mr. Blake. -I am not wilfully trying your patience--I should only be adding -to your suspense, if I attempted to relieve it as things are now. -At Frizinghall, sir, in two hours' time!" - -The man on the high road hailed him again. He hurried away, -and left me. - - - -CHAPTER X - - -How the interval of suspense in which I was now condemned might -have affected other men in my position, I cannot pretend to say. -The influence of the two hours' probation upon my temperament was -simply this. I felt physically incapable of remaining still in any -one place, and morally incapable of speaking to any one human being, -until I had first heard all that Ezra Jennings had to say to me. - -In this frame of mind, I not only abandoned my contemplated -visit to Mrs. Ablewhite--I even shrank from encountering -Gabriel Betteredge himself. - -Returning to Frizinghall, I left a note for Betteredge, -telling him that I had been unexpectedly called away for a -few hours, but that he might certainly expect me to return -towards three o'clock in the afternoon. I requested him, -in the interval, to order his dinner at the usual hour, -and to amuse himself as he pleased. He had, as I well knew, -hosts of friends in Frizinghall; and he would be at no loss -how to fill up his time until I returned to the hotel. - -This done, I made the best of my way out of the town again, -and roamed the lonely moorland country which surrounds Frizinghall, -until my watch told me that it was time, at last, to return -to Mr. Candy's house. - -I found Ezra Jennings ready and waiting for me. - -He was sitting alone in a bare little room, which communicated by a -glazed door with a surgery. Hideous coloured diagrams of the ravages -of hideous diseases decorated the barren buff-coloured walls. -A book-case filled with dingy medical works, and ornamented at the top -with a skull, in place of the customary bust; a large deal table -copiously splashed with ink; wooden chairs of the sort that are seen -in kitchens and cottages; a threadbare drugget in the middle of the floor; -a sink of water, with a basin and waste-pipe roughly let into the wall, -horribly suggestive of its connection with surgical operations-- -comprised the entire furniture of the room. The bees were humming among -a few flowers placed in pots outside the window; the birds were singing -in the garden, and the faint intermittent jingle of a tuneless piano -in some neighbouring house forced itself now and again on the ear. -In any other place, these everyday sounds might have spoken pleasantly -of the everyday world outside. Here, they came in as intruders on a -silence which nothing but human suffering had the privilege to disturb. -I looked at the mahogany instrument case, and at the huge roll of lint, -occupying places of their own on the book-shelves, and shuddered inwardly -as I thought of the sounds, familiar and appropriate to the everyday use of -Ezra Jennings' room. - -"I make no apology, Mr. Blake, for the place in which I am -receiving you," he said. "It is the only room in the house, -at this hour of the day, in which we can feel quite sure -of being left undisturbed. Here are my papers ready for you; -and here are two books to which we may have occasion to refer, -before we have done. Bring your chair to the table, and we -shall be able to consult them together." - -I drew up to the table; and Ezra Jennings handed me his manuscript notes. -They consisted of two large folio leaves of paper. One leaf contained writing -which only covered the surface at intervals. The other presented writing, -in red and black ink, which completely filled the page from top to bottom. -In the irritated state of my curiosity, at that moment, I laid aside the -second sheet of paper in despair. - -"Have some mercy on me!" I said. "Tell me what I am to expect, -before I attempt to read this." - -"Willingly, Mr. Blake! Do you mind my asking you one or two more questions?" - -"Ask me anything you like!" - -He looked at me with the sad smile on his lips, and the kindly interest -in his soft brown eyes. - -"You have already told me," he said, "that you have never-- -to your knowledge--tasted opium in your life." - -"To my knowledge," I repeated. - -"You will understand directly why I speak with that reservation. -Let us go on. You are not aware of ever having taken opium. -At this time, last year, you were suffering from nervous irritation, -and you slept wretchedly at night. On the night of the birthday, however, -there was an exception to the rule--you slept soundly. Am I right, -so far?" - -"Quite right!" - -"Can you assign any cause for the nervous suffering, and your want of sleep?" - -"I can assign no cause. Old Betteredge made a guess at the cause, -I remember. But that is hardly worth mentioning." - -"Pardon me. Anything is worth mentioning in such a case as this. -Betteredge attributed your sleeplessness to something. -To what?" - -"To my leaving off smoking." - -"Had you been an habitual smoker?" - -"Yes." - -"Did you leave off the habit suddenly?" - -"Yes." - -"Betteredge was perfectly right, Mr. Blake. When smoking is -a habit a man must have no common constitution who can leave it -off suddenly without some temporary damage to his nervous system. -Your sleepless nights are accounted for, to my mind. -My next question refers to Mr. Candy. Do you remember -having entered into anything like a dispute with him-- -at the birthday dinner, or afterwards--on the subject of -his profession?" - -The question instantly awakened one of my dormant remembrances -in connection with the birthday festival. The foolish wrangle -which took place, on that occasion, between Mr. Candy and myself, -will be found described at much greater length than it -deserves in the tenth chapter of Betteredge's Narrative. -The details there presented of the dispute--so little had I -thought of it afterwards--entirely failed to recur to my memory. -All that I could now recall, and all that I could tell -Ezra Jennings was, that I had attacked the art of medicine -at the dinner-table with sufficient rashness and sufficient -pertinacity to put even Mr. Candy out of temper for the moment. -I also remembered that Lady Verinder had interfered to stop -the dispute, and that the little doctor and I had "made it up again," -as the children say, and had become as good friends as ever, -before we shook hands that night. - -"There is one thing more," said Ezra Jennings, "which it is very important -I should know. Had you any reason for feeling any special anxiety about -the Diamond, at this time last year?" - -"I had the strongest reasons for feeling anxiety about the Diamond. -I knew it to be the object of a conspiracy; and I was warned -to take measures for Miss Verinder's protection, as the possessor -of the stone." - -"Was the safety of the Diamond the subject of conversation -between you and any other person, immediately before you -retired to rest on the birthday night?" - -"It was the subject of a conversation between Lady Verinder -and her daughter----" - -"Which took place in your hearing?" - -"Yes." - -Ezra Jennings took up his notes from the table, and placed them in my hands. - -"Mr. Blake," he said, "if you read those notes now, by the light -which my questions and your answers have thrown on them, -you will make two astounding discoveries concerning yourself. -You will find--First, that you entered Miss Verinder's -sitting-room and took the Diamond, in a state of trance, -produced by opium. Secondly, that the opium was given to you -by Mr. Candy--without your own knowledge--as a practical -refutation of the opinions which you had expressed to him at -the birthday dinner." - -I sat with the papers in my hand completely stupefied. - -"Try and forgive poor Mr. Candy," said the assistant gently. -"He has done dreadful mischief, I own; but he has done it innocently. -If you will look at the notes, you will see that--but for his illness-- -he would have returned to Lady Verinder's the morning after the party, -and would have acknowledged the trick that he had played you. -Miss Verinder would have heard of it, and Miss Verinder would have -questioned him--and the truth which has laid hidden for a year would have -been discovered in a day." - -I began to regain my self-possession. "Mr. Candy is beyond the reach -of my resentment," I said angrily. "But the trick that he played me -is not the less an act of treachery, for all that. I may forgive, -but I shall not forget it." - -"Every medical man commits that act of treachery, Mr. Blake, in the -course of his practice. The ignorant distrust of opium (in England) -is by no means confined to the lower and less cultivated classes. -Every doctor in large practice finds himself, every now and then, -obliged to deceive his patients, as Mr. Candy deceived you. -I don't defend the folly of playing you a trick under the circumstances. -I only plead with you for a more accurate and more merciful construction -of motives." - -"How was it done?" I asked. "Who gave me the laudanum, -without my knowing it myself?" - -"I am not able to tell you. Nothing relating to that part of -the matter dropped from Mr. Candy's lips, all through his illness. -Perhaps your own memory may point to the person to be suspected." - -"No." - -"It is useless, in that case, to pursue the inquiry. The laudanum -was secretly given to you in some way. Let us leave it there, -and go on to matters of more immediate importance. Read my notes, -if you can. Familiarise your mind with what has happened in the past. -I have something very bold and very startling to propose to you, -which relates to the future." - -Those last words roused me. - -I looked at the papers, in the order in which Ezra Jennings -had placed them in my hands. The paper which contained -the smaller quantity of writing was the uppermost of the two. -On this, the disconnected words, and fragments of sentences, -which had dropped from Mr. Candy in his delirium, appeared -as follows: - -"... Mr. Franklin Blake ... and agreeable ... down a peg ... medicine ... -confesses ... sleep at night ... tell him ... out of order ... medicine ... -he tells me ... and groping in the dark mean one and the same thing ... -all the company at the dinner-table ... I say ... groping after sleep ... -nothing but medicine ... he says ... leading the blind ... know what it means -... witty ... a night's rest in spite of his teeth ... wants sleep ... Lady -Verinder's medicine chest ... five-and-twenty minims ... without his knowing -it ... to-morrow morning ... Well, Mr. Blake ... medicine to-day ... never -... without it ... out, Mr. Candy ... excellent ... without it ... down on -him ... truth ... something besides ... excellent ... dose of laudanum, -sir ... bed ... what ... medicine now." - -There, the first of the two sheets of paper came to an end. -I handed it back to Ezra Jennings. - -"That is what you heard at his bedside?" I said. - -"Literally and exactly what I heard," he answered--"except that -the repetitions are not transferred here from my short-hand notes. -He reiterated certain words and phrases a dozen times over, -fifty times over, just as he attached more or less importance -to the idea which they represented. The repetitions, in this sense, -were of some assistance to me in putting together those fragments. -Don't suppose," he added, pointing to the second sheet of paper, "that I -claim to have reproduced the expressions which Mr. Candy himself would -have used if he had been capable of speaking connectedly. I only say -that I have penetrated through the obstacle of the disconnected expression, -to the thought which was underlying it connectedly all the time. -Judge for yourself." - -I turned to the second sheet of paper, which I now knew to be the key -to the first. - -Once more, Mr. Candy's wanderings appeared, copied in black ink; -the intervals between the phrases being filled up by Ezra Jennings -in red ink. I reproduce the result here, in one plain form; -the original language and the interpretation of it coming close enough -together in these pages to be easily compared and verified. - -"... Mr. Franklin Blake is clever and agreeable, but he wants -taking down a peg when he talks of medicine. He confesses -that he has been suffering from want of sleep at night. -I tell him that his nerves are out of order, and that he ought -to take medicine. He tells me that taking medicine and groping -in the dark mean one and the same thing. This before all -the company at the dinner-table. I say to him, you are groping -after sleep, and nothing but medicine can help you to find it. -He says to me, I have heard of the blind leading the blind, -and now I know what it means. Witty--but I can give him -a night's rest in spite of his teeth. He really wants sleep; -and Lady Verinder's medicine chest is at my disposal. -Give him five-and-twenty minims of laudanum to-night, without his -knowing it; and then call to-morrow morning. 'Well, Mr. Blake, -will you try a little medicine to-day? You will never sleep without -it.'--'There you are out, Mr. Candy: I have had an excellent -night's rest without it.' Then, come down on him with the truth! -'You have had something besides an excellent night's rest; -you had a dose of laudanum, sir, before you went to bed. What do you -say to the art of medicine, now?'" - -Admiration of the ingenuity which had woven this smooth and finished -texture out of the ravelled skein was naturally the first impression -that I felt, on handing the manuscript back to Ezra Jennings. -He modestly interrupted the first few words in which my sense -of surprise expressed itself, by asking me if the conclusion which -he had drawn from his notes was also the conclusion at which my own -mind had arrived. - -"Do you believe as I believe," he said, "that you were acting -under the influence of the laudanum in doing all that you did, -on the night of Miss Verinder's birthday, in Lady Verinder's house?" - -"I am too ignorant of the influence of laudanum to have an opinion of my own," -I answered. "I can only follow your opinion, and feel convinced that you -are right." - -"Very well. The next question is this. You are convinced; -and I am convinced--how are we to carry our conviction to the minds -of other people?" - -I pointed to the two manuscripts, lying on the table between us. -Ezra Jennings shook his head. - -"Useless, Mr. Blake! Quite useless, as they stand now for three -unanswerable reasons. In the first place, those notes have been -taken under circumstances entirely out of the experience of the mass -of mankind. Against them, to begin with! In the second place, -those notes represent a medical and metaphysical theory. Against them, -once more! In the third place, those notes are of my making; -there is nothing but my assertion to the contrary, to guarantee -that they are not fabrications. Remember what I told you on the moor-- -and ask yourself what my assertion is worth. No! my notes have -but one value, looking to the verdict of the world outside. -Your innocence is to be vindicated; and they show how it can be done. -We must put our conviction to the proof--and You are the man to -prove it!" - -"How?" I asked. - -He leaned eagerly nearer to me across the table that divided us. - -"Are you willing to try a bold experiment?" - -"I will do anything to clear myself of the suspicion that rests on me now." - -"Will you submit to some personal inconvenience for a time?" - -"To any inconvenience, no matter what it may be." - -"Will you be guided implicitly by my advice? It may expose you -to the ridicule of fools; it may subject you to the remonstrances -of friends whose opinions you are bound to respect - -"Tell me what to do!" I broke out impatiently. "And, come what may, -I'll do it." - -"You shall do this, Mr. Blake," he answered. "You shall steal -the Diamond, unconsciously, for the second time, in the presence -of witnesses whose testimony is beyond dispute." - -I started to my feet. I tried to speak. I could only look at him. - -"I believe it CAN be done," he went on. "And it shall be done-- -if you will only help me. Try to compose yourself--sit down, -and hear what I have to say to you. You have resumed the habit -of smoking; I have seen that for myself. How long have you -resumed it." - -"For nearly a year." - -"Do you smoke more or less than you did?" - -"More." - -"Will you give up the habit again? Suddenly, mind!--as you gave -it up before." - -I began dimly to see his drift. "I will give it up, from this moment," -I answered. - -"If the same consequences follow, which followed last June," -said Ezra Jennings--"if you suffer once more as you suffered then, -from sleepless nights, we shall have gained our first step. -We shall have put you back again into something assimilating to your -nervous condition on the birthday night. If we can next revive, -or nearly revive, the domestic circumstances which surrounded you; -and if we can occupy your mind again with the various questions -concerning the Diamond which formerly agitated it, we shall -have replaced you, as nearly as possible in the same position, -physically and morally, in which the opium found you last year. -In that case we may fairly hope that a repetition of the dose will lead, -in a greater or lesser degree, to a repetition of the result. -There is my proposal, expressed in a few hasty words. You shall -now see what reasons I have to justify me in making it." - -He turned to one of the books at his side, and opened it at a place marked -by a small slip of paper. - -"Don't suppose that I am going to weary you with a lecture -on physiology," he said. "I think myself bound to prove, -in justice to both of us, that I am not asking you to try this -experiment in deference to any theory of my own devising. -Admitted principles, and recognised authorities, justify me -in the view that I take. Give me five minutes of your attention; -and I will undertake to show you that Science sanctions -my proposal, fanciful as it may seem. Here, in the first place, -is the physiological principle on which I am acting, -stated by no less a person than Dr. Carpenter. Read it -for yourself." - -He handed me the slip of paper which had marked the place in the book. -It contained a few lines of writing, as follows:-- - -"There seems much ground for the belief, that every sensory impression -which has once been recognised by the perceptive consciousness, is registered -(so to speak) in the brain, and may be reproduced at some subsequent time, -although there may be no consciousness of its existence in the mind during -the whole intermediate period." "Is that plain, so far?" asked Ezra Jennings. - -"Perfectly plain." - -He pushed the open book across the table to me, and pointed to a passage, -marked by pencil lines. - -"Now," he said, "read that account of a case, which has--as I believe-- -a direct bearing on your own position, and on the experiment which I -am tempting you to try. Observe, Mr. Blake, before you begin, that I -am now referring you to one of the greatest of English physiologists. -The book in your hand is Doctor Elliotson's HUMAN PHYSIOLOGY; -and the case which the doctor cites rests on the well-known authority of -Mr. Combe." - -The passage pointed out to me was expressed in these terms :-- - -"Dr. Abel informed me," says Mr. Combe, "of an Irish porter to a warehouse, -who forgot, when sober, what he had done when drunk; but, being drunk, -again recollected the transactions of his former state of intoxication. -On one occasion, being drunk, he had lost a parcel of some value, and in his -sober moments could give no account of it. Next time he was intoxicated, -he recollected that he had left the parcel at a certain house, and there being -no address on it, it had remained there safely, and was got on his calling -for it." - -"Plain again?" asked Ezra Jennings. - -"As plain as need be." - -He put back the slip of paper in its place, and closed the book. - -"Are you satisfied that I have not spoken without good authority to -support me?" he asked. "If not, I have only to go to those bookshelves, -and you have only to read the passages which I can point out to you." - -"I am quite satisfied," I said, "without reading a word more." - -"In that case, we may return to your own personal interest -in this matter. I am bound to tell you that there is something -to be said against the experiment as well as for it. -If we could, this year, exactly reproduce, in your case, -the conditions as they existed last year, it is physiologically -certain that we should arrive at exactly the same result. -But this--there is no denying it--is simply impossible. -We can only hope to approximate to the conditions; -and if we don't succeed in getting you nearly enough -back to what you were, this venture of ours will fail. -If we do succeed--and I am myself hopeful of success--you may -at least so far repeat your proceedings on the birthday night, -as to satisfy any reasonable person that you are guiltless, -morally speaking, of the theft of the Diamond. I believe, -Mr. Blake, I have now stated the question, on both sides of it, -as fairly as I can, within the limits that I have imposed -on myself. If there is anything that I have not made clear -to you, tell me what it is--and if I can enlighten you, -I will." - -"All that you have explained to me," I said, "I understand perfectly. -But I own I am puzzled on one point, which you have not made clear to -me yet." - -"What is the point?" - -"I don't understand the effect of the laudanum on me. -I don't understand my walking down-stairs, and along corridors, -and my opening and shutting the drawers of a cabinet, and my going -back again to my own room. All these are active proceedings. -I thought the influence of opium was first to stupefy you, and then -to send you to sleep." - -"The common error about opium, Mr. Blake! I am, at this moment, -exerting my intelligence (such as it is) in your service, under the -influence of a dose of laudanum, some ten times larger than the dose -Mr. Candy administered to you. But don't trust to my authority-- -even on a question which comes within my own personal experience. -I anticipated the objection you have just made: and I have again -provided myself with independent testimony which will carry its due -weight with it in your own mind, and in the minds of your friends." - -He handed me the second of the two books which he had by him on the table. - -"There," he said, "are the far-famed CONFESSIONS OF AN ENGLISH -OPIUM EATER! Take the book away with you, and read it. -At the passage which I have marked, you will find that when De -Quincey had committed what he calls "a debauch of opium," -he either went to the gallery at the Opera to enjoy the music, -or he wandered about the London markets on Saturday night, -and interested himself in observing all the little shifts -and bargainings of the poor in providing their Sunday's dinner. -So much for the capacity of a man to occupy himself actively, -and to move about from place to place under the influence -of opium." - -"I am answered so far," I said; "but I am not answered yet as to the effect -produced by the opium on myself." - -"I will try to answer you in a few words," said Ezra Jennings. -"The action of opium is comprised, in the majority of cases, -in two influences--a stimulating influence first, and a sedative -influence afterwards. Under the stimulating influence, -the latest and most vivid impressions left on your mind-- -namely, the impressions relating to the Diamond-- -would be likely, in your morbidly sensitive nervous condition, -to become intensified in your brain, and would subordinate -to themselves your judgment and your will exactly as an ordinary -dream subordinates to itself your judgment and your will. -Little by little, under this action, any apprehensions about -the safety of the Diamond which you might have felt during -the day would be liable to develop themselves from the state -of doubt to the state of certainty--would impel you into -practical action to preserve the jewel--would direct your steps, -with that motive in view, into the room which you entered-- -and would guide your hand to the drawers of the cabinet, -until you had found the drawer which held the stone. -In the spiritualised intoxication of opium, you would -do all that. Later, as the sedative action began to gain -on the stimulant action, you would slowly become inert -and stupefied. Later still you would fall into a deep sleep. -When the morning came, and the effect of the opium had -been all slept off, you would wake as absolutely ignorant -of what you had done in the night as if you had been living -at the Antipodes. Have I made it tolerably clear to you -so far?" - -"You have made it so clear," I said, "that I want you to go farther. -You have shown me how I entered the room, and how I came to take the Diamond. -But Miss Verinder saw me leave the room again, with the jewel in my hand. -Can you trace my proceedings from that moment? Can you guess what I -did next?" - -"That is the very point I was coming to," he rejoined. -"It is a question with me whether the experiment which I -propose as a means of vindicating your innocence, may not -also be made a means of recovering the lost Diamond as well. -When you left Miss Verinder's sitting-room, with the jewel -in your hand, you went back in all probability to your -own room----" - -"Yes? and what then?" - -"It is possible, Mr. Blake--I dare not say more--that your -idea of preserving the Diamond led, by a natural sequence, -to the idea of hiding the Diamond, and that the place -in which you hid it was somewhere in your bedroom. -In that event, the case of the Irish porter may be your case. -You may remember, under the influence of the second dose of opium, -the place in which you hid the Diamond under the influence of -the first." - -It was my turn, now, to enlighten Ezra Jennings. I stopped him, -before he could say any more. - -"You are speculating," I said, "on a result which cannot possibly take place. -The Diamond is, at this moment, in London." - -He started, and looked at me in great surprise. - -"In London?" he repeated. "How did it get to London from Lady -Verinder's house?" - -"Nobody knows." - -"You removed it with your own hand from Miss Verinder's room. -How was it taken out of your keeping?" - -"I have no idea how it was taken out of my keeping." - -"Did you see it, when you woke in the morning?" - -"No." - -"Has Miss Verinder recovered possession of it?" - -"No." - -"Mr. Blake! there seems to be something here which wants clearing up. -May I ask how you know that the Diamond is, at this moment, -in London?" - -I had put precisely the same question to Mr. Bruff when I made -my first inquiries about the Moonstone, on my return to England. -In answering Ezra Jennings, I accordingly repeated what I had myself -heard from the lawyer's own lips--and what is already familiar to -the readers of these pages. - -He showed plainly that he was not satisfied with my reply. - -"With all deference to you," he said, "and with all deference to your -legal adviser, I maintain the opinion which I expressed just now. -It rests, I am well aware, on a mere assumption. Pardon me for -reminding you, that your opinion also rests on a mere assumption -as well." - -The view he took of the matter was entirely new to me. -I waited anxiously to hear how he would defend it. - -"I assume," pursued Ezra Jennings, "that the influence of the opium-- -after impelling you to possess yourself of the Diamond, -with the purpose of securing its safety--might also impel you, -acting under the same influence and the same motive, to hide -it somewhere in your own room. YOU assume that the Hindoo -conspirators could by no possibility commit a mistake. -The Indians went to Mr. Luker's house after the Diamond-- -and, therefore, in Mr. Luker's possession the Diamond must be! -Have you any evidence to prove that the Moonstone -was taken to London at all? You can't even guess how, -or by whom, it was removed from Lady Verinder's house! -Have you any evidence that the jewel was pledged to Mr. Luker? -He declares that he never heard of the Moonstone; and his bankers' -receipt acknowledges nothing but the deposit of a valuable -of great price. The Indians assume that Mr. Luker is lying-- -and you assume again that the Indians are right. All I say, -in differing with you, is--that my view is possible. -What more, Mr. Blake, either logically, or legally, can be said -for yours?" - -It was put strongly; but there was no denying that it was put truly as well. - -"I confess you stagger me," I replied. "Do you object to my writing -to Mr. Bruff, and telling him what you have said?" - -"On the contrary, I shall be glad if you will write to Mr. Bruff. -If we consult his experience, we may see the matter under a new light. -For the present, let us return to our experiment with the opium. -We have decided that you leave off the habit of smoking from -this moment." - -"From this moment?" - -"That is the first step. The next step is to reproduce, as nearly as we can, -the domestic circumstances which surrounded you last year." - -How was this to be done? Lady Verinder was dead. Rachel and I, -so long as the suspicion of theft rested on me, were parted irrevocably. -Godfrey Ablewhite was away travelling on the Continent. It was simply -impossible to reassemble the people who had inhabited the house, when I -had slept in it last. The statement of this objection did not appear -to embarrass Ezra Jennings. He attached very little importance, he said, -to reassembling the same people--seeing that it would be vain to expect -them to reassume the various positions which they had occupied towards -me in the past times. On the other hand, he considered it essential to -the success of the experiment, that I should see the same objects about me -which had surrounded me when I was last in the house. - -"Above all things," he said, "you must sleep in the room which you -slept in, on the birthday night, and it must be furnished in the same way. -The stairs, the corridors, and Miss Verinder's sitting-room, -must also be restored to what they were when you saw them last. -It is absolutely necessary, Mr. Blake, to replace every article -of furniture in that part of the house which may now be put away. -The sacrifice of your cigars will be useless, unless we can get Miss -Verinder's permission to do that." - -"Who is to apply to her for permission?" I asked. - -"Is it not possible for you to apply?" - -"Quite out of the question. After what has passed between us -on the subject of the lost Diamond, I can neither see her, -nor write to her, as things are now." - -Ezra Jennings paused, and considered for a moment. - -"May I ask you a delicate question?" he said. - -I signed to him to go on. - -"Am I right, Mr. Blake, in fancying (from one or two things which have -dropped from you) that you felt no common interest in Miss Verinder, -in former times?" - -"Quite right." - -"Was the feeling returned?" - -"It was." - -"Do you think Miss Verinder would be likely to feel a strong interest -in the attempt to prove your innocence?" - -"I am certain of it." - -"In that case, I will write to Miss Verinder--if you will give me leave." - -"Telling her of the proposal that you have made to me?" - -"Telling her of everything that has passed between us to-day." - -It is needless to say that I eagerly accepted the service -which he had offered to me. - -"I shall have time to write by to-day's post," he said, looking at his watch. -"Don't forget to lock up your cigars, when you get back to the hotel! -I will call to-morrow morning and hear how you have passed the night." - -I rose to take leave of him; and attempted to express the grateful -sense of his kindness which I really felt. - -He pressed my hand gently. "Remember what I told you on the moor," -he answered. "If I can do you this little service, Mr. Blake, -I shall feel it like a last gleam of sunshine, falling on the evening -of a long and clouded day." - - - -We parted. It was then the fifteenth of June. The events -of the next ten days--every one of them more or less directly -connected with the experiment of which I was the passive object-- -are all placed on record, exactly as they happened, in the Journal -habitually kept by Mr. Candy's assistant. In the pages of Ezra -Jennings nothing is concealed, and nothing is forgotten. -Let Ezra Jennings tell how the venture with the opium was tried, -and how it ended. - - - -FOURTH NARRATIVE - - - -Extracted from the Journal of EZRA JENNINGS - - -1849.--June 15.... With some interruption from patients, and some interruption -from pain, I finished my letter to Miss Verinder in time for to-day's post. -I failed to make it as short a letter as I could have wished. But I think I -have made it plain. It leaves her entirely mistress of her own decision. -If she consents to assist the experiment, she consents of her own free will, -and not as a favour to Mr. Franklin Blake or to me. - - - -June 16th.--Rose late, after a dreadful night; the vengeance -of yesterday's opium, pursuing me through a series of -frightful dreams. At one time I was whirling through empty space -with the phantoms of the dead, friends and enemies together. -At another, the one beloved face which I shall never see again, -rose at my bedside, hideously phosphorescent in the black darkness, -and glared and grinned at me. A slight return of the old pain, -at the usual time in the early morning, was welcome as a change. -It dispelled the visions--and it was bearable because it -did that. - -My bad night made it late in the morning, before I could get -to Mr. Franklin Blake. I found him stretched on the sofa, -breakfasting on brandy and soda-water, and a dry biscuit. - -"I am beginning, as well as you could possibly wish," he said. -"A miserable, restless night; and a total failure of appetite -this morning. Exactly what happened last year, when I gave up -my cigars. The sooner I am ready for my second dose of laudanum, -the better I shall be pleased." - -"You shall have it on the earliest possible day," I answered. -"In the meantime, we must be as careful of your health as we can. -If we allow you to become exhausted, we shall fail in that way. -You must get an appetite for your dinner. In other words, you must get -a ride or a walk this morning, in the fresh air." - -"I will ride, if they can find me a horse here. By-the-by, I -wrote to Mr. Bruff, yesterday. Have you written to Miss Verinder?" - -"Yes--by last night's post." - -"Very good. We shall have some news worth hearing, to tell each -other to-morrow. Don't go yet! I have a word to say to you. -You appeared to think, yesterday, that our experiment with the opium -was not likely to be viewed very favourably by some of my friends. -You were quite right. I call old Gabriel Betteredge one of my friends; -and you will be amused to hear that he protested strongly when I saw -him yesterday. "You have done a wonderful number of foolish things -in the course of your life, Mr. Franklin, but this tops them all!" -There is Betteredge's opinion! You will make allowance for his prejudices, -I am sure, if you and he happen to meet?" - -I left Mr. Blake, to go my rounds among my patients; feeling the better -and the happier even for the short interview that I had had with him. - -What is the secret of the attraction that there is for me in this man? -Does it only mean that I feel the contrast between the frankly kind -manner in which he has allowed me to become acquainted with him, -and the merciless dislike and distrust with which I am met by other people? -Or is there really something in him which answers to the yearning that I have -for a little human sympathy--the yearning, which has survived the solitude -and persecution of many years; which seems to grow keener and keener, -as the time comes nearer and nearer when I shall endure and feel no more? -How useless to ask these questions! Mr. Blake has given me a new interest -in life. Let that be enough, without seeking to know what the new -interest is. - - - -June 17th.--Before breakfast, this morning, Mr. Candy informed me that he was -going away for a fortnight, on a visit to a friend in the south of England. -He gave me as many special directions, poor fellow, about the patients, as if -he still had the large practice which he possessed before he was taken ill. -The practice is worth little enough now! Other doctors have superseded HIM; -and nobody who can help it will employ me. - -It is perhaps fortunate that he is to be away just at this time. -He would have been mortified if I had not informed him -of the experiment which I am going to try with Mr. Blake. -And I hardly know what undesirable results might not have happened, -if I had taken him into my confidence. Better as it is. -Unquestionably, better as it is. - -The post brought me Miss Verinder's answer, after Mr. Candy -had left the house. - -A charming letter! It gives me the highest opinion of her. -There is no attempt to conceal the interest that she feels -in our proceedings. She tells me, in the prettiest manner, -that my letter has satisfied her of Mr. Blake's innocence, -without the slightest need (so far as she is concerned) -of putting my assertion to the proof. She even upbraids herself-- -most undeservedly, poor thing!--for not having divined at -the time what the true solution of the mystery might really be. -The motive underlying all this proceeds evidently from something -more than a generous eagerness to make atonement for a wrong -which she has innocently inflicted on another person. -It is plain that she has loved him, throughout the estrangement -between them. In more than one place the rapture of discovering -that he has deserved to be loved, breaks its way innocently -through the stoutest formalities of pen and ink, and even -defies the stronger restraint still of writing to a stranger. -Is it possible (I ask myself, in reading this delightful letter) -that I, of all men in the world, am chosen to be the means of -bringing these two young people together again? My own happiness -has been trampled under foot; my own love has been torn from me. -Shall I live to see a happiness of others, which is of my making-- -a love renewed, which is of my bringing back? Oh merciful Death, -let me see it before your arms enfold me, before your voice whispers -to me, "Rest at last!" - -There are two requests contained in the letter. -One of them prevents me from showing it to Mr. Franklin Blake. -I am authorised to tell him that Miss Verinder willingly -consents to place her house at our disposal; and, that said, -I am desired to add no more. - -So far, it is easy to comply with her wishes. But the second request -embarrasses me seriously. - -Not content with having written to Mr. Betteredge, instructing him -to carry out whatever directions I may have to give, Miss Verinder -asks leave to assist me, by personally superintending the restoration -of her own sitting-room. She only waits a word of reply from me -to make the journey to Yorkshire, and to be present as one of -the witnesses on the night when the opium is tried for the second time. - -Here, again, there is a motive under the surface; and, here again, -I fancy that I can find it out. - -What she has forbidden me to tell Mr. Franklin Blake, she is -(as I interpret it) eager to tell him with her own lips, BEFORE he is -put to the test which is to vindicate his character in the eyes -of other people. I understand and admire this generous anxiety -to acquit him, without waiting until his innocence may, or may not, -be proved. It is the atonement that she is longing to make, -poor girl, after having innocently and inevitably wronged him. -But the thing cannot be done. I have no sort of doubt that -the agitation which a meeting between them would produce on -both sides--reviving dormant feelings, appealing to old memories, -awakening new hopes--would, in their effect on the mind of Mr. Blake, -be almost certainly fatal to the success of our experiment. -It is hard enough, as things are, to reproduce in him the conditions -as they existed, or nearly as they existed, last year. With new -interests and new emotions to agitate him, the attempt would be -simply useless. - -And yet, knowing this, I cannot find it in my heart to disappoint her. -I must try if I can discover some new arrangement, before post-time, which -will allow me to say Yes to Miss Verinder, without damage to the service -which I have bound myself to render to Mr. Franklin Blake. - -Two o'clock.--I have just returned from my round of medical visits; -having begun, of course, by calling at the hotel. - -Mr. Blake's report of the night is the same as before. -He has had some intervals of broken sleep, and no more. -But he feels it less to-day, having slept after yesterday's dinner. -This after-dinner sleep is the result, no doubt, of the ride -which I advised him to take. I fear I shall have to curtail his -restorative exercise in the fresh air. He must not be too well; -he must not be too ill. It is a case (as a sailor would say) -of very fine steering. - -He has not heard yet from Mr. Bruff. I found him eager to know -if I had received any answer from Miss Verinder. - -I told him exactly what I was permitted to tell, and no more. -It was quite needless to invent excuses for not showing him the letter. -He told me bitterly enough, poor fellow, that he understood the delicacy -which disinclined me to produce it. "She consents, of course, -as a matter of common courtesy and common justice," he said. -"But she keeps her own opinion of me, and waits to see the result." -I was sorely tempted to hint that he was now wronging her as she had -wronged him. On reflection, I shrank from forestalling her in the double -luxury of surprising and forgiving him. - -My visit was a very short one. After the experience of the other night, -I have been compelled once more to give up my dose of opium. -As a necessary result, the agony of the disease that is in me has got -the upper hand again. I felt the attack coming on, and left abruptly, -so as not to alarm or distress him. It only lasted a quarter of an hour -this time, and it left me strength enough to go on with my work. - -Five o'clock.--I have written my reply to Miss Verinder. - -The arrangement I have proposed reconciles the interests on both sides, -if she will only consent to it. After first stating the objections that -there are to a meeting between Mr. Blake and herself, before the experiment -is tried, I have suggested that she should so time her journey as to -arrive at the house privately, on the evening when we make the attempt. -Travelling by the afternoon train from London, she would delay her arrival -until nine o'clock. At that hour, I have undertaken to see Mr. Blake -safely into his bedchamber; and so to leave Miss Verinder free to occupy -her own rooms until the time comes for administering the laudanum. -When that has been done, there can be no objection to her watching the result, -with the rest of us. On the next morning, she shall show Mr. Blake -(if she likes) her correspondence with me, and shall satisfy him in that way -that he was acquitted in her estimation, before the question of his innocence -was put to the proof. - -In that sense, I have written to her. This is all that I can do to-day. -To-morrow I must see Mr. Betteredge, and give the necessary directions -for reopening the house. - - - -June 18th.--Late again, in calling on Mr. Franklin Blake. -More of that horrible pain in the early morning; -followed, this time, by complete prostration, for some hours. -I foresee, in spite of the penalties which it exacts from me, -that I shall have to return to the opium for the hundredth time. -If I had only myself to think of, I should prefer the sharp pains -to the frightful dreams. But the physical suffering exhausts me. -If I let myself sink, it may end in my becoming useless to Mr. Blake -at the time when he wants me most. - -It was nearly one o'clock before I could get to the hotel to-day. The visit, -even in my shattered condition, proved to be a most amusing one-- -thanks entirely to the presence on the scene of Gabriel Betteredge. - -I found him in the room, when I went in. He withdrew to the window -and looked out, while I put my first customary question to my patient. -Mr. Blake had slept badly again, and he felt the loss of rest this morning -more than he had felt it yet. - -I asked next if he had heard from Mr. Bruff. - -A letter had reached him that morning. Mr. Bruff expressed -the strongest disapproval of the course which his friend -and client was taking under my advice. It was mischievous-- -for it excited hopes that might never be realised. -It was quite unintelligible to HIS mind, except that it looked -like a piece of trickery, akin to the trickery of mesmerism, -clairvoyance, and the like. It unsettled Miss Verinder's house, -and it would end in unsettling Miss Verinder herself. He had put -the case (without mentioning names) to an eminent physician; -and the eminent physician had smiled, had shaken his head, -and had said--nothing. On these grounds, Mr. Bruff entered -his protest, and left it there. - -My next inquiry related to the subject of the Diamond. -Had the lawyer produced any evidence to prove that the jewel was -in London? - -No, the lawyer had simply declined to discuss the question. -He was himself satisfied that the Moonstone had been pledged -to Mr. Luker. His eminent absent friend, Mr. Murthwaite -(whose consummate knowledge of the Indian character no one -could deny), was satisfied also. Under these circumstances, -and with the many demands already made on him, he must decline -entering into any disputes on the subject of evidence. -Time would show; and Mr. Bruff was willing to wait -for time. - -It was quite plain--even if Mr. Blake had not made it plainer still -by reporting the substance of the letter, instead of reading what was -actually written--that distrust of me was at the bottom of all this. -Having myself foreseen that result, I was neither mortified nor surprised. -I asked Mr. Blake if his friend's protest had shaken him. He answered -emphatically, that it had not produced the slightest effect on his mind. -I was free after that to dismiss Mr. Bruff from consideration--and I did -dismiss him accordingly. - -A pause in the talk between us, followed--and Gabriel Betteredge -came out from his retirement at the window. - -"Can you favour me with your attention, sir?" he inquired, -addressing himself to me. - -"I am quite at your service," I answered. - -Betteredge took a chair and seated himself at the table. -He produced a huge old-fashioned leather pocket-book, with a -pencil of dimensions to match. Having put on his spectacles, -he opened the pocket-book, at a blank page, and addressed himself -to me once more. - -"I have lived," said Betteredge, looking at me sternly, -"nigh on fifty years in the service of my late lady. -I was page-boy before that, in the service of the old lord, -her father. I am now somewhere between seventy and eighty years -of age--never mind exactly where! I am reckoned to have got -as pretty a knowledge and experience of the world as most men. -And what does it all end in? It ends, Mr. Ezra Jennings, -in a conjuring trick being performed on Mr. Franklin Blake, -by a doctor's assistant with a bottle of laudanum-- -and by the living jingo, I'm appointed, in my old age, to be -conjurer's boy!" - -Mr. Blake burst out laughing. I attempted to speak. -Betteredge held up his hand, in token that he had not done yet. - -"Not a word, Mr. Jennings!" he said, "It don't want a word, sir, from you. -I have got my principles, thank God. If an order comes to me, which is -own brother to an order come from Bedlam, it don't matter. So long -as I get it from my master or mistress, as the case may be, I obey it. -I may have my own opinion, which is also, you will please to remember, -the opinion of Mr. Bruff--the Great Mr. Bruff!" said Betteredge, -raising his voice, and shaking his head at me solemnly. "It don't matter; -I withdraw my opinion, for all that. My young lady says, "Do it." -And I say, "Miss, it shall be done." Here I am, with my book and my pencil-- -the latter not pointed so well as I could wish, but when Christians take -leave of their senses, who is to expect that pencils will keep their points? -Give me your orders, Mr. Jennings. I'll have them in writing, sir. -I'm determined not to be behind 'em, or before 'em, by so much as a -hair's breadth. I'm a blind agent--that's what I am. A blind agent!" -repeated Betteredge, with infinite relish of his own description of -himself. - -"I am very sorry," I began, "that you and I don't agree----" - -"Don't bring ME, into it!" interposed Betteredge. -"This is not a matter of agreement, it's a matter of obedience. -Issue your directions, sir--issue your directions!" - -Mr. Blake made me a sign to take him at his word. I "issued my directions" -as plainly and as gravely as I could. - -"I wish certain parts of the house to be reopened," I said, -"and to be furnished, exactly as they were furnished at this -time last year." - -Betteredge gave his imperfectly-pointed pencil a preliminary -lick with his tongue. "Name the parts, Mr. Jennings!" -he said loftily. - -"First, the inner hall, leading to the chief staircase." - -"'First, the inner hall,'" Betteredge wrote. "Impossible to -furnish that, sir, as it was furnished last year--to begin with." - -"Why?" - -"Because there was a stuffed buzzard, Mr. Jennings, in the hall last year. -When the family left, the buzzard was put away with the other things. -When the buzzard was put away--he burst." - -"We will except the buzzard then." - -Betteredge took a note of the exception. "'The inner hall -to be furnished again, as furnished last year. A burst buzzard -alone excepted.' Please to go on, Mr. Jennings." - -"The carpet to be laid down on the stairs, as before." - -"'The carpet to be laid down on the stairs, as before.' -Sorry to disappoint you, sir. But that can't be done either." - -"Why not?" - -"Because the man who laid that carpet down is dead, Mr. Jennings-- -and the like of him for reconciling together a carpet and a corner, -is not to be found in all England, look where you may." - -"Very well. We must try the next best man in England." - -Betteredge took another note; and I went on issuing my directions. - -"Miss Verinder's sitting-room to be restored exactly to what it -was last year. Also, the corridor leading from the sitting-room -to the first landing. Also, the second corridor, leading from -the second landing to the best bedrooms. Also, the bedroom -occupied last June by Mr. Franklin Blake." - -Betteredge's blunt pencil followed me conscientiously, word by word. -"Go on, sir," he said, with sardonic gravity. "There's a deal of writing -left in the point of this pencil yet." - -I told him that I had no more directions to give. "Sir," said Betteredge, -"in that case, I have a point or two to put on my own behalf." He opened -the pocket-book at a new page, and gave the inexhaustible pencil another -preliminary lick. - -"I wish to know," he began, "whether I may, or may not, -wash my hands----" - -"You may decidedly," said Mr. Blake. "I'll ring for the waiter." - -"----of certain responsibilities," pursued Betteredge, -impenetrably declining to see anybody in the room but himself -and me. "As to Miss Verinder's sitting-room, to begin with. -When we took up the carpet last year, Mr. Jennings, we found -a surprising quantity of pins. Am I responsible for putting back -the pins?" - -"Certainly not." - -Betteredge made a note of that concession, on the spot. - -"As to the first corridor next," he resumed. "When we moved -the ornaments in that part, we moved a statue of a fat naked child-- -profanely described in the catalogue of the house as "Cupid, god of Love." -He had two wings last year, in the fleshy part of his shoulders. -My eye being off him, for the moment, he lost one of them. Am I -responsible for Cupid's wing?" - -I made another concession, and Betteredge made another note. - -"As to the second corridor," he went on. "There having been nothing in it, -last year, but the doors of the rooms (to every one of which I can swear, -if necessary), my mind is easy, I admit, respecting that part of the -house only. But, as to Mr. Franklin's bedroom (if THAT is to be put back -to what it was before), I want to know who is responsible for keeping it -in a perpetual state of litter, no matter how often it may be set right-- -his trousers here, his towels there, and his French novels everywhere. -I say, who is responsible for untidying the tidiness of Mr. Franklin's room, -him or me?" - -Mr. Blake declared that he would assume the whole responsibility -with the greatest pleasure. Betteredge obstinately declined to -listen to any solution of the difficulty, without first referring -it to my sanction and approval. I accepted Mr. Blake's proposal; -and Betteredge made a last entry in the pocket-book to that effect. - -"Look in when you like, Mr. Jennings, beginning from to-morrow," -he said, getting on his legs. "You will find me at work, -with the necessary persons to assist me. I respectfully beg -to thank you, sir, for overlooking the case of the stuffed buzzard, -and the other case of the Cupid's wing--as also for permitting -me to wash my hands of all responsibility in respect of the pins -on the carpet, and the litter in Mr. Franklin's room. -Speaking as a servant, I am deeply indebted to you. -Speaking as a man, I consider you to be a person whose -head is full of maggots, and I take up my testimony -against your experiment as a delusion and a snare. -Don't be afraid, on that account, of my feelings as a man getting -in the way of my duty as a servant! You shall be obeyed. -The maggots notwithstanding, sir, you shall be obeyed. -If it ends in your setting the house on fire, Damme if I -send for the engines, unless you ring the bell and order -them first!" - -With that farewell assurance, he made me a bow, and walked out of the room. - -"Do you think we can depend on him?" I asked. - -"Implicitly," answered Mr. Blake. "When we go to the house, -we shall find nothing neglected, and nothing forgotten." - - - -June 19th.--Another protest against our contemplated proceedings! -From a lady this time. - -The morning's post brought me two letters. One from Miss Verinder, -consenting, in the kindest manner, to the arrangement that I have proposed. -The other from the lady under whose care she is living--one Mrs. Merridew. - -Mrs. Merridew presents her compliments, and does not pretend -to understand the subject on which I have been corresponding -with Miss Verinder, in its scientific bearings. Viewed in its -social bearings, however, she feels free to pronounce an opinion. -I am probably, Mrs. Merridew thinks, not aware that Miss Verinder -is barely nineteen years of age. To allow a young lady, at her -time of life, to be present (without a "chaperone") in a house -full of men among whom a medical experiment is being carried on, -is an outrage on propriety which Mrs. Merridew cannot possibly permit. -If the matter is allowed to proceed, she will feel it to be her duty-- -at a serious sacrifice of her own personal convenience-- -to accompany Miss Verinder to Yorkshire. Under these circumstances, -she ventures to request that I will kindly reconsider the subject; -seeing that Miss Verinder declines to be guided by any opinion but mine. -Her presence cannot possibly be necessary; and a word from me, -to that effect, would relieve both Mrs. Merridew and myself of a very -unpleasant responsibility. - -Translated from polite commonplace into plain English, the meaning of this is, -as I take it, that Mrs. Merridew stands in mortal fear of the opinion -of the world. She has unfortunately appealed to the very last man -in existence who has any reason to regard that opinion with respect. -I won't disappoint Miss Verinder; and I won't delay a reconciliation -between two young people who love each other, and who have been parted -too long already. Translated from plain English into polite commonplace, -this means that Mr. Jennings presents his compliments to Mrs. Merridew, -and regrets that he cannot feel justified in interfering any farther in -the matter. - -Mr. Blake's report of himself, this morning, was the same as before. -We determined not to disturb Betteredge by overlooking him at the house -to-day. To-morrow will be time enough for our first visit of inspection. - - - -June 20th.--Mr. Blake is beginning to feel his continued restlessness -at night. The sooner the rooms are refurnished, now, the better. - -On our way to the house, this morning, he consulted me, -with some nervous impatience and irresolution, about a letter -(forwarded to him from London) which he had received from -Sergeant Cuff. - -The Sergeant writes from Ireland. He acknowledges the receipt -(through his housekeeper) of a card and message which Mr. Blake -left at his residence near Dorking, and announces his return -to England as likely to take place in a week or less. -In the meantime, he requests to be favoured with Mr. Blake's -reasons for wishing to speak to him (as stated in the message) -on the subject of the Moonstone. If Mr. Blake can convict him -of having made any serious mistake, in the course of his last -year's inquiry concerning the Diamond, he will consider it a duty -(after the liberal manner in which he was treated by the late -Lady Verinder) to place himself at that gentleman's disposal. -If not, he begs permission to remain in his retirement, -surrounded by the peaceful horticultural attractions of a -country life. - -After reading the letter, I had no hesitation in advising -Mr. Blake to inform Sergeant Cuff, in reply, of all that -had happened since the inquiry was suspended last year, -and to leave him to draw his own conclusions from the plain facts. - -On second thoughts I also suggested inviting the Sergeant to be present at -the experiment, in the event of his returning to England in time to join us. -He would be a valuable witness to have, in any case; and, if I proved -to be wrong in believing the Diamond to be hidden in Mr. Blake's room, -his advice might be of great importance, at a future stage of the proceedings -over which I could exercise no control. This last consideration appeared -to decide Mr. Blake. He promised to follow my advice. - -The sound of the hammer informed us that the work of re-furnishing -was in full progress, as we entered the drive that led to the house. - -Betteredge, attired for the occasion in a fisherman's red cap, -and an apron of green baize, met us in the outer hall. -The moment he saw me, he pulled out the pocket-book and pencil, -and obstinately insisted on taking notes of everything that I -said to him. Look where we might, we found, as Mr. Blake -had foretold that the work was advancing as rapidly and as -intelligently as it was possible to desire. But there was still -much to be done in the inner hall, and in Miss Verinder's room. -It seemed doubtful whether the house would be ready for us before -the end of the week. - -Having congratulated Betteredge on the progress that he had made -(he persisted in taking notes every time I opened my lips; -declining, at the same time, to pay the slightest attention -to anything said by Mr. Blake); and having promised to -return for a second visit of inspection in a day or two, -we prepared to leave the house, going out by the back way. -Before we were clear of the passages downstairs, I was stopped -by Betteredge, just as I was passing the door which led into his -own room. - -"Could I say two words to you in private?" he asked, in a mysterious whisper. - -I consented of course. Mr. Blake walked on to wait for me -in the garden, while I accompanied Betteredge into his room. -I fully anticipated a demand for certain new concessions, -following the precedent already established in the cases of -the stuffed buzzard, and the Cupid's wing. To my great surprise, -Betteredge laid his hand confidentially on my arm, and put this -extraordinary question to me: - -"Mr. Jennings, do you happen to be acquainted with ROBINSON CRUSOE?" - -I answered that I had read ROBINSON CRUSOE when I was a child. - -"Not since then?" inquired Betteredge. - -"Not since then." - -He fell back a few steps, and looked at me with an expression -of compassionate curiosity, tempered by superstitious awe. - -"He has not read ROBINSON CRUSOE since he was a child," -said Betteredge, speaking to himself--not to me. "Let's try -how ROBINSON CRUSOE strikes him now!" - -He unlocked a cupboard in a corner, and produced a dirty and dog's-eared book, -which exhaled a strong odour of stale tobacco as he turned over the leaves. -Having found a passage of which he was apparently in search, he requested me -to join him in the corner; still mysteriously confidential, and still speaking -under his breath. - -"In respect to this hocus-pocus of yours, sir, with the laudanum and -Mr. Franklin Blake," he began. "While the workpeople are in the house, -my duty as a servant gets the better of my feelings as a man. -When the workpeople are gone, my feelings as a man get the better -of my duty as a servant. Very good. Last night, Mr. Jennings, -it was borne in powerfully on my mind that this new medical enterprise -of yours would end badly. If I had yielded to that secret Dictate, -I should have put all the furniture away again with my own hand, -and have warned the workmen off the premises when they came the -next morning." - -"I am glad to find, from what I have seen up-stairs," I said, -"that you resisted the secret Dictate." - -"Resisted isn't the word," answered Betteredge. "Wrostled is the word. -I wrostled, sir, between the silent orders in my bosom pulling me one way, -and the written orders in my pocket-book pushing me the other, until -(saving your presence) I was in a cold sweat. In that dreadful perturbation -of mind and laxity of body, to what remedy did I apply? To the remedy, -sir, which has never failed me yet for the last thirty years and more-- -to This Book!" - -He hit the book a sounding blow with his open hand, and struck -out of it a stronger smell of stale tobacco than ever. - -"What did I find here," pursued Betteredge, "at the first page I opened? -This awful bit, sir, page one hundred and seventy-eight, as follows.--'Upon -these, and many like Reflections, I afterwards made it a certain rule with me, -That whenever I found those secret Hints or Pressings of my Mind, to doing, -or not doing any Thing that presented; or to going this Way, or that Way, -I never failed to obey the secret Dictate." As I live by bread, Mr. Jennings, -those were the first words that met my eye, exactly at the time when I myself -was setting the secret Dictate at defiance! You don't see anything at all out -of the common in that, do you, sir?" - -"I see a coincidence--nothing more." - -"You don't feel at all shaken, Mr. Jennings, in respect to this -medical enterprise of yours? - -"Not the least in the world." - -Betteredge stared hard at me, in dead silence. He closed the book -with great deliberation; he locked it up again in the cupboard with -extraordinary care; he wheeled round, and stared hard at me once more. -Then he spoke. - -"Sir," he said gravely, "there are great allowances to be made -for a man who has not read ROBINSON CRUSOE since he was a child. -I wish you good morning." - -He opened his door with a low bow, and left me at liberty to find -my own way into the garden. I met Mr. Blake returning to the house. - -"You needn't tell me what has happened," he said. "Betteredge has played -his last card: he has made another prophetic discovery in ROBINSON CRUSOE. -Have you humoured his favourite delusion? No? You have let him see -that you don't believe in ROBINSON CRUSOE? Mr. Jennings! you have fallen -to the lowest possible place in Betteredge's estimation. Say what you like, -and do what you like, for the future. You will find that he won't waste -another word on you now." - - - -June 21st.--A short entry must suffice in my journal to-day. - -Mr. Blake has had the worst night that he has passed yet. -I have been obliged, greatly against my will, to prescribe for him. -Men of his sensitive organisation are fortunately quick in feeling -the effect of remedial measures. Otherwise, I should be inclined to fear -that he will be totally unfit for the experiment when the time comes -to try it. - -As for myself, after some little remission of my pains for the last two days -I had an attack this morning, of which I shall say nothing but that it -has decided me to return to the opium. I shall close this book, and take -my full dose--five hundred drops. - - - -June 22nd.--Our prospects look better to-day. Mr. Blake's nervous -suffering is greatly allayed. He slept a little last night. -MY night, thanks to the opium, was the night of a man who is stunned. -I can't say that I woke this morning; the fitter expression would be, -that I recovered my senses. - -We drove to the house to see if the refurnishing was done. -It will be completed to-morrow--Saturday. As Mr. Blake foretold, -Betteredge raised no further obstacles. From first to last, -he was ominously polite, and ominously silent. - -My medical enterprise (as Betteredge calls it) must now, inevitably, -be delayed until Monday next. Tomorrow evening the workmen will -be late in the house. On the next day, the established Sunday -tyranny which is one of the institutions of this free country, -so times the trains as to make it impossible to ask anybody to travel -to us from London. Until Monday comes, there is nothing to be done -but to watch Mr. Blake carefully, and to keep him, if possible, -in the same state in which I find him to-day. - -In the meanwhile, I have prevailed on him to write to Mr. Bruff, -making a point of it that he shall be present as one of the witnesses. -I especially choose the lawyer, because he is strongly prejudiced -against us. If we convince HIM, we place our victory beyond the -possibility of dispute. - -Mr. Blake has also written to Sergeant Cuff; and I have sent -a line to Miss Verinder. With these, and with old Betteredge -(who is really a person of importance in the family) -we shall have witnesses enough for the purpose--without including -Mrs. Merridew, if Mrs. Merridew persists in sacrificing herself -to the opinion of the world. - - - -June 23rd.--The vengeance of the opium overtook me again last night. -No matter; I must go on with it now till Monday is past and gone. - -Mr. Blake is not so well again to-day. At two this morning, -he confesses that he opened the drawer in which his cigars are put away. -He only succeeded in locking it up again by a violent effort. -His next proceeding, in case of temptation, was to throw the key -out of window. The waiter brought it in this morning, discovered at -the bottom of an empty cistern--such is Fate! I have taken possession -of the key until Tuesday next. - - - -June 24th.--Mr. Blake and I took a long drive in an open carriage. -We both felt beneficially the blessed influence of the soft summer air. -I dined with him at the hotel. To my great relief--for I found him -in an over-wrought, over-excited state this morning--he had two hours' -sound sleep on the sofa after dinner. If he has another bad night, now--I am -not afraid of the consequence. - - - -June 25th, Monday.--The day of the experiment! It is five o'clock -in the afternoon. We have just arrived at the house. - -The first and foremost question, is the question of Mr. Blake's health. - -So far as it is possible for me to judge, he promises -(physically speaking) to be quite as susceptible to the action -of the opium to-night as he was at this time last year. -He is, this afternoon, in a state of nervous sensitiveness -which just stops short of nervous irritation. He changes -colour readily; his hand is not quite steady; and he starts -at chance noises, and at unexpected appearances of persons -and things. - -These results have all been produced by deprivation of sleep, -which is in its turn the nervous consequence of a sudden cessation in -the habit of smoking, after that habit has been carried to an extreme. -Here are the same causes at work again, which operated last year; -and here are, apparently, the same effects. Will the parallel still -hold good, when the final test has been tried? The events of the night -must decide. - -While I write these lines, Mr. Blake is amusing himself at the billiard -table in the inner hall, practising different strokes in the game, as he was -accustomed to practise them when he was a guest in this house in June last. -I have brought my journal here, partly with a view to occupying the idle -hours which I am sure to have on my hands between this and to-morrow morning; -partly in the hope that something may happen which it may be worth my while to -place on record at the time. - -Have I omitted anything, thus far? A glance at yesterday's entry shows -me that I have forgotten to note the arrival of the morning's post. -Let me set this right before I close these leaves for the present, and join -Mr. Blake. - -I received a few lines then, yesterday, from Miss Verinder. -She has arranged to travel by the afternoon train, as I recommended. -Mrs. Merridew has insisted on accompanying her. The note hints -that the old lady's generally excellent temper is a little ruffled, -and requests all due indulgence for her, in consideration of her age -and her habits. I will endeavour, in my relations with Mrs. Merridew, -to emulate the moderation which Betteredge displays in his relations -with me. He received us to-day, portentously arrayed in his best -black suit, and his stiffest white cravat. Whenever he looks my way, -he remembers that I have not read ROBINSON CRUSOE since I was a child, -and he respectfully pities me. - -Yesterday, also, Mr. Blake had the lawyer's answer. -Mr. Bruff accepts the invitation--under protest. It is, -he thinks, clearly necessary that a gentleman possessed -of the average allowance of common sense, should accompany -Miss Verinder to the scene of, what we will venture to call, -the proposed exhibition. For want of a better escort, -Mr. Bruff himself will be that gentleman.--So here is poor -Miss Verinder provided with two "chaperones." It is a relief -to think that the opinion of the world must surely be satisfied -with this! - -Nothing has been heard of Sergeant Cuff. He is no doubt still in Ireland. -We must not expect to see him to-night. - -Betteredge has just come in, to say that Mr. Blake has asked for me. -I must lay down my pen for the present. - - -* * * * * * * * * * - - -Seven o'clock.--We have been all over the refurnished rooms and -staircases again; and we have had a pleasant stroll in the shrubbery, -which was Mr. Blake's favourite walk when he was here last. -In this way, I hope to revive the old impressions of places and things -as vividly as possible in his mind. - -We are now going to dine, exactly at the hour at which the birthday dinner was -given last year. My object, of course, is a purely medical one in this case. -The laudanum must find the process of digestion, as nearly as may be, -where the laudanum found it last year. - -At a reasonable time after dinner I propose to lead the conversation -back again--as inartificially as I can--to the subject of the Diamond, -and of the Indian conspiracy to steal it. When I have filled his mind -with these topics, I shall have done all that it is in my power to do, -before the time comes for giving him the second dose. - - -* * * * * * * * * * - - -Half-past eight.--I have only this moment found an opportunity -of attending to the most important duty of all; the duty of looking -in the family medicine chest, for the laudanum which Mr. Candy -used last year. - -Ten minutes since, I caught Betteredge at an unoccupied moment, -and told him what I wanted. Without a word of objection, -without so much as an attempt to produce his pocket-book, -he led the way (making allowances for me at every step) -to the store-room in which the medicine chest is kept. - -I discovered the bottle, carefully guarded by a glass stopper -tied over with leather. The preparation which it contained was, -as I had anticipated, the common Tincture of Opium. -Finding the bottle still well filled, I have resolved to use it, -in preference to employing either of the two preparations -with which I had taken care to provide myself, in case -of emergency. - -The question of the quantity which I am to administer presents -certain difficulties. I have thought it over, and have decided -on increasing the dose. - -My notes inform me that Mr. Candy only administered twenty-five minims. -This is a small dose to have produced the results which followed-- -even in the case of a person so sensitive as Mr. Blake. I think it highly -probable that Mr. Candy gave more than he supposed himself to have given-- -knowing, as I do, that he has a keen relish of the pleasures of the table, -and that he measured out the laudanum on the birthday, after dinner. -In any case, I shall run the risk of enlarging the dose to forty minims. -On this occasion, Mr. Blake knows beforehand that he is going to take -the laudanum--which is equivalent, physiologically speaking, to his having -(unconsciously to himself) a certain capacity in him to resist the effects. -If my view is right, a larger quantity is therefore imperatively required, -this time, to repeat the results which the smaller quantity produced, -last year. - - -* * * * * * * * * * - - -Ten o'clock.--The witnesses, or the company (which shall I call them?) -reached the house an hour since. - -A little before nine o'clock, I prevailed on Mr. Blake to accompany -me to his bedroom; stating, as a reason, that I wished him -to look round it, for the last time, in order to make quite sure -that nothing had been forgotten in the refurnishing of the room. -I had previously arranged with Betteredge, that the bedchamber prepared -for Mr. Bruff should be the next room to Mr. Blake's, and that I -should be informed of the lawyer's arrival by a knock at the door. -Five minutes after the clock in the hall had struck nine, -I heard the knock; and, going out immediately, met Mr. Bruff in -the corridor. - -My personal appearance (as usual) told against me. Mr. Bruff's -distrust looked at me plainly enough out of Mr. Bruff's eyes. -Being well used to producing this effect on strangers, -I did not hesitate a moment in saying what I wanted to say, -before the lawyer found his way into Mr. Blake's room. - -"You have travelled here, I believe, in company with Mrs. Merridew -and Miss Verinder?" I said. - -"Yes," answered Mr. Bruff, as drily as might be. - -"Miss Verinder has probably told you, that I wish her presence in the house -(and Mrs. Merridew's presence of course) to be kept a secret from Mr. Blake, -until my experiment on him has been tried first?" - -"I know that I am to hold my tongue, sir!" said Mr. Bruff, impatiently. -"Being habitually silent on the subject of human folly, I am all the readier -to keep my lips closed on this occasion. Does that satisfy you?" - -I bowed, and left Betteredge to show him to his room. -Betteredge gave me one look at parting, which said, as if -in so many words, "You have caught a Tartar, Mr. Jennings-- -and the name of him is Bruff." - -It was next necessary to get the meeting over with the two ladies. -I descended the stairs--a little nervously, I confess--on my way to Miss -Verinder's sitting-room. - -The gardener's wife (charged with looking after the accommodation -of the ladies) met me in the first-floor corridor. -This excellent woman treats me with an excessive civility -which is plainly the offspring of down-right terror. -She stares, trembles, and curtseys, whenever I speak to her. -On my asking for Miss Verinder, she stared, trembled, and would -no doubt have curtseyed next, if Miss Verinder herself -had not cut that ceremony short, by suddenly opening her -sitting-room door. - -"Is that Mr. Jennings?" she asked. - -Before I could answer, she came out eagerly to speak to me in the corridor. -We met under the light of a lamp on a bracket. At the first sight of me, -Miss Verinder stopped, and hesitated. She recovered herself instantly, -coloured for a moment--and then, with a charming frankness, offered me -her hand. - -"I can't treat you like a stranger, Mr. Jennings," she said. -"Oh, if you only knew how happy your letters have made me!" - -She looked at my ugly wrinkled face, with a bright gratitude so new to me in -my experience of my fellow-creatures, that I was at a loss how to answer her. -Nothing had prepared me for her kindness and her beauty. The misery of many -years has not hardened my heart, thank God. I was as awkward and as shy -with her, as if I had been a lad in my teens. - -"Where is he now?" she asked, giving free expression -to her one dominant interest--the interest in Mr. Blake. -"What is he doing? Has he spoken of me? Is he in good spirits? -How does he bear the sight of the house, after what happened -in it last year? When are you going to give him the laudanum? -May I see you pour it out? I am so interested; I am so excited-- -I have ten thousand things to say to you, and they all crowd -together so that I don't know what to say first. Do you wonder at -the interest I take in this?" - -"No," I said. "I venture to think that I thoroughly understand it." - -She was far above the paltry affectation of being confused. -She answered me as she might have answered a brother or -a father. - -"You have relieved me of indescribable wretchedness; you have given me -a new life. How can I be ungrateful enough to have any concealment from you? -I love him," she said simply, "I have loved him from first to last-- -even when I was wronging him in my own thoughts; even when I was saying -the hardest and the cruellest words to him. Is there any excuse for me, -in that? I hope there is--I am afraid it is the only excuse I have. -When to-morrow comes, and he knows that I am in the house, do you think----" - -She stopped again, and looked at me very earnestly. - -"When to-morrow comes," I said, "I think you have only to tell him what you -have just told me." - -Her face brightened; she came a step nearer to me. Her fingers -trifled nervously with a flower which I had picked in the garden, -and which I had put into the button-hole of my coat. - -"You have seen a great deal of him lately," she said. "Have you, -really and truly, seen THAT?" - -"Really and truly," I answered. "I am quite certain of what will happen -to-morrow. I wish I could feel as certain of what will happen to-night." - -At that point in the conversation, we were interrupted by the appearance of -Betteredge with the tea-tray. He gave me another significant look as he passed -on into the sitting-room. "Aye! aye! make your hay while the sun shines. -The Tartar's upstairs, Mr. Jennings--the Tartar's upstairs!" - -We followed him into the room. A little old lady, in a corner, -very nicely dressed, and very deeply absorbed over a smart piece -of embroidery, dropped her work in her lap, and uttered a faint -little scream at the first sight of my gipsy complexion and my -piebald hair. - -"Mrs. Merridew," said Miss Verinder, "this is Mr. Jennings." - -"I beg Mr. Jennings's pardon," said the old lady, looking at Miss Verinder, -and speaking at me. "Railway travelling always makes me nervous. -I am endeavouring to quiet my mind by occupying myself as usual. I don't -know whether my embroidery is out of place, on this extraordinary occasion. -If it interferes with Mr. Jennings's medical views, I shall be happy to put it -away of course." - -I hastened to sanction the presence of the embroidery, exactly as I -had sanctioned the absence of the burst buzzard and the Cupid's wing. -Mrs. Merridew made an effort--a grateful effort--to look at my hair. -No! it was not to be done. Mrs. Merridew looked back again at -Miss Verinder. - -"If Mr. Jennings will permit me," pursued the old lady, -"I should like to ask a favour. Mr. Jennings is about to try -a scientific experiment to-night. I used to attend scientific -experiments when I was a girl at school. They invariably -ended in an explosion. If Mr. Jennings will be so very kind, -I should like to be warned of the explosion this time. -With a view to getting it over, if possible, before I go -to bed." - -I attempted to assure Mrs. Merridew that an explosion was not included -in the programme on this occasion. - -"No," said the old lady. "I am much obliged to Mr. Jennings-- -I am aware that he is only deceiving me for my own good. -I prefer plain dealing. I am quite resigned to the explosion-- -but I DO want to get it over, if possible, before I go -to bed." - -Here the door opened, and Mrs. Merridew uttered another little scream. -The advent of the explosion? No: only the advent of Betteredge. - -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Jennings," said Betteredge, in his -most elaborately confidential manner. "Mr. Franklin wishes -to know where you are. Being under your orders to deceive him, -in respect to the presence of my young lady in the house, I have -said I don't know. That you will please to observe, was a lie. -Having one foot already in the grave, sir, the fewer lies -you expect me to tell, the more I shall be indebted to you, -when my conscience pricks me and my time comes." - -There was not a moment to be wasted on the purely speculative question -of Betteredge's conscience. Mr. Blake might make his appearance -in search of me, unless I went to him at once in his own room. -Miss Verinder followed me out into the corridor. - -"They seem to be in a conspiracy to persecute you," she said. -"What does it mean?" - -"Only the protest of the world, Miss Verinder--on a very small scale-- -against anything that is new." - -"What are we to do with Mrs. Merridew?" - -"Tell her the explosion will take place at nine to-morrow morning." - -"So as to send her to bed?" - -"Yes--so as to send her to bed." - -Miss Verinder went back to the sitting-room, and I went upstairs to Mr. Blake. - -To my surprise I found him alone; restlessly pacing his room, -and a little irritated at being left by himself. - -"Where is Mr. Bruff?" I asked. - -He pointed to the closed door of communication between the two rooms. -Mr. Bruff had looked in on him, for a moment; had attempted to renew -his protest against our proceedings; and had once more failed -to produce the smallest impression on Mr. Blake. Upon this, -the lawyer had taken refuge in a black leather bag, filled to -bursting with professional papers. "The serious business of life," -he admitted, "was sadly out of place on such an occasion as the present. -But the serious business of life must be carried on, for all that. -Mr. Blake would perhaps kindly make allowance for the old-fashioned -habits of a practical man. Time was money--and, as for Mr. Jennings, -he might depend on it that Mr. Bruff would be forthcoming -when called upon." With that apology, the lawyer had gone back -to his own room, and had immersed himself obstinately in his -black bag. - -I thought of Mrs. Merridew and her embroidery, and of Betteredge -and his conscience. There is a wonderful sameness in the solid side -of the English character--just as there is a wonderful sameness -in the solid expression of the English face. - -"When are you going to give me the laudanum?" asked Mr. Blake impatiently. - -"You must wait a little longer," I said. "I will stay and keep you company -till the time comes." - -It was then not ten o'clock. Inquiries which I had made, -at various times, of Betteredge and Mr. Blake, had led me -to the conclusion that the dose of laudanum given by Mr. Candy -could not possibly have been administered before eleven. -I had accordingly determined not to try the second dose until -that time. - -We talked a little; but both our minds were preoccupied by the coming ordeal. -The conversation soon flagged--then dropped altogether. Mr. Blake idly -turned over the books on his bedroom table. I had taken the precaution -of looking at them, when we first entered the room. THE GUARDIAN; THE TATLER; -Richardson's PAMELA; Mackenzie's MAN OF FEELING; Roscoe's LORENZO DE MEDICI; -and Robertson's CHARLES THE FIFTH--all classical works; all (of course) -immeasurably superior to anything produced in later times; and all (from my -present point of view) possessing the one great merit of enchaining nobody's -interest, and exciting nobody's brain. I left Mr. Blake to the composing -influence of Standard Literature, and occupied myself in making this entry in -my journal. - -My watch informs me that it is close on eleven o'clock. I must shut up -these leaves once more. - - -* * * * * * * * * * - - -Two o'clock A.M.--The experiment has been tried. With what result, -I am now to describe. - -At eleven o'clock, I rang the bell for Betteredge, and told Mr. Blake -that he might at last prepare himself for bed. - -I looked out of the window at the night. It was mild -and rainy, resembling, in this respect, the night of the birthday-- -the twenty-first of June, last year. Without professing -to believe in omens, it was at least encouraging to find no -direct nervous influences--no stormy or electric perturbations-- -in the atmosphere. Betteredge joined me at the window, -and mysteriously put a little slip of paper into my hand. -It contained these lines: - -"Mrs. Merridew has gone to bed, on the distinct understanding that the -explosion is to take place at nine to-morrow morning, and that I am not -to stir out of this part of the house until she comes and sets me free. -She has no idea that the chief scene of the experiment is my sitting-room-- -or she would have remained in it for the whole night! I am alone, -and very anxious. Pray let me see you measure out the laudanum; I want -to have something to do with it, even in the unimportant character of a -mere looker-on.--R.V." - -I followed Betteredge out of the room, and told him to remove -the medicine-chest into Miss Verinder's sitting-room. - -The order appeared to take him completely by surprise. -He looked as if he suspected me of some occult medical -design on Miss Verinder! "Might I presume to ask," he said, -"what my young lady and the medicine-chest have got to do with -each other?" - -"Stay in the sitting-room, and you will see." - -Betteredge appeared to doubt his own unaided capacity to superintend -me effectually, on an occasion when a medicine-chest was included -in the proceedings. - -"Is there any objection, sir" he asked, "to taking Mr. Bruff into this -part of the business?" - -"Quite the contrary! I am now going to ask Mr. Bruff to accompany -me down-stairs." - -Betteredge withdrew to fetch the medicine-chest, without another word. -I went back into Mr. Blake's room, and knocked at the door of communication. -Mr. Bruff opened it, with his papers in his hand--immersed in Law; -impenetrable to Medicine. - -"I am sorry to disturb you," I said. "But I am going to prepare -the laudanum for Mr. Blake; and I must request you to be present, -and to see what I do." - -"Yes?" said Mr. Bruff, with nine-tenths of his attention riveted -on his papers, and with one-tenth unwillingly accorded to me. -"Anything else?" - -"I must trouble you to return here with me, and to see me administer -the dose." - -"Anything else?" - -"One thing more. I must put you to the inconvenience of remaining -in Mr. Blake's room, and of waiting to see what happens." - -"Oh, very good!" said Mr. Bruff. "My room, or Mr. Blake's room-- -it doesn't matter which; I can go on with my papers anywhere. -Unless you object, Mr. Jennings, to my importing THAT amount of common -sense into the proceedings?" - -Before I could answer, Mr. Blake addressed himself to the lawyer, -speaking from his bed. - -"Do you really mean to say that you don't feel any interest in what we -are going to do?" he asked. "Mr. Bruff, you have no more imagination -than a cow!" - -"A cow is a very useful animal, Mr. Blake," said the lawyer. -With that reply he followed me out of the room, still keeping his -papers in his hand. - -We found Miss Verinder, pale and agitated, restlessly pacing her -sitting-room from end to end. At a table in a corner stood Betteredge, -on guard over the medicine-chest. Mr. Bruff sat down on the first -chair that he could find, and (emulating the usefulness of the cow) -plunged back again into his papers on the spot. - -Miss Verinder drew me aside, and reverted instantly to her -one all-absorbing interest--her interest in Mr. Blake. - -"How is he now?" she asked. "Is he nervous? is he out of temper? -Do you think it will succeed? Are you sure it will do no harm?" - -"Quite sure. Come, and see me measure it out." - -"One moment! It is past eleven now. How long will it be before -anything happens?" - -"It is not easy to say. An hour perhaps." - -"I suppose the room must be dark, as it was last year?" - -"Certainly." - -"I shall wait in my bedroom--just as I did before. I shall keep -the door a little way open. It was a little way open last year. -I will watch the sitting-room door; and the moment it moves, -I will blow out my light. It all happened in that way, on my -birthday night. And it must all happen again in the same way, -musn't it?" - -"Are you sure you can control yourself, Miss Verinder?" - -"In HIS interests, I can do anything!" she answered fervently. - -One look at her face told me that I could trust her. -I addressed myself again to Mr. Bruff. - -"I must trouble you to put your papers aside for a moment," -I said. - -"Oh, certainly!" He got up with a start--as if I had disturbed -him at a particularly interesting place--and followed me -to the medicine-chest. There, deprived of the breathless -excitement incidental to the practice of his profession, -he looked at Betteredge--and yawned wearily. - -Miss Verinder joined me with a glass jug of cold water, which she had -taken from a side-table. "Let me pour out the water," she whispered. -"I must have a hand in it!" - -I measured out the forty minims from the bottle, and poured -the laudanum into a medicine glass. "Fill it till it is three -parts full," I said, and handed the glass to Miss Verinder. -I then directed Betteredge to lock up the medicine chest; -informing him that I had done with it now. A look of -unutterable relief overspread the old servant's countenance. -He had evidently suspected me of a medical design on his -young lady! - -After adding the water as I had directed, Miss Verinder seized a moment-- -while Betteredge was locking the chest, and while Mr. Bruff was looking -back to his papers--and slyly kissed the rim of the medicine glass. -"When you give it to him," said the charming girl, "give it to him on -that side!" - -I took the piece of crystal which was to represent the Diamond from my pocket, -and gave it to her. - -"You must have a hand in this, too," I said. "You must put -it where you put the Moonstone last year." - -She led the way to the Indian cabinet, and put the mock Diamond into -the drawer which the real Diamond had occupied on the birthday night. -Mr. Bruff witnessed this proceeding, under protest, as he had -witnessed everything else. But the strong dramatic interest which -the experiment was now assuming, proved (to my great amusement) -to be too much for Betteredge's capacity of self restraint. -His hand trembled as he held the candle, and he whispered anxiously, -"Are you sure, miss, it's the right drawer?" - -I led the way out again, with the laudanum and water in my hand. -At the door, I stopped to address a last word to Miss Verinder. - -"Don't be long in putting out the lights," I said. - -I will put them out at once," she answered. "And I will wait in my bedroom, -with only one candle alight." - -She closed the sitting-room door behind us. Followed by Mr. Bruff -and Betteredge, I went back to Mr. Blake's room. - -We found him moving restlessly from side to side of the bed, -and wondering irritably whether he was to have the laudanum -that night. In the presence of the two witnesses, I gave him -the dose, and shook up his pillows, and told him to lie down -again quietly and wait. - -His bed, provided with light chintz curtains, was placed, -with the head against the wall of the room, so as to leave -a good open space on either side of it. On one side, I drew -the curtains completely--and in the part of the room thus -screened from his view, I placed Mr. Bruff and Betteredge, -to wait for the result. At the bottom of the bed I half drew -the curtains--and placed my own chair at a little distance, -so that I might let him see me or not see me, speak to me -or not speak to me, just as the circumstances might direct. -Having already been informed that he always slept with -a light in the room, I placed one of the two lighted -candles on a little table at the head of the bed, -where the glare of the light would not strike on his eyes. -The other candle I gave to Mr. Bruff; the light, in this instance, -being subdued by the screen of the chintz curtains. -The window was open at the top, so as to ventilate the room. -The rain fell softly, the house was quiet. It was twenty minutes -past eleven, by my watch, when the preparations were completed, -and I took my place on the chair set apart at the bottom of -the bed. - -Mr. Bruff resumed his papers, with every appearance of being as deeply -interested in them as ever. But looking towards him now, I saw certain -signs and tokens which told me that the Law was beginning to lose its hold -on him at last. The suspended interest of the situation in which we were now -placed was slowly asserting its influence even on HIS unimaginative mind. -As for Betteredge, consistency of principle and dignity of conduct had become, -in his case, mere empty words. He forgot that I was performing a conjuring -trick on Mr. Franklin Blake; he forgot that I had upset the house from top -to bottom; he forgot that I had not read ROBINSON CRUSOE since I was a child. -"For the Lord's sake, sir," he whispered to me, "tell us when it will begin -to work." - -"Not before midnight," I whispered back. "Say nothing, -and sit still." - -Betteredge dropped to the lowest depth of familiarity with me, -without a struggle to save himself. He answered by a wink! - -Looking next towards Mr. Blake, I found him as restless as ever in his bed; -fretfully wondering why the influence of the laudanum had not begun to assert -itself yet. To tell him, in his present humour, that the more he fidgeted -and wondered, the longer he would delay the result for which we were -now waiting, would have been simply useless. The wiser course to take was -to dismiss the idea of the opium from his mind, by leading him insensibly -to think of something else. - -With this view, I encouraged him to talk to me; contriving so to direct -the conversation, on my side, as to lead it back again to the subject -which had engaged us earlier in the evening--the subject of the Diamond. -I took care to revert to those portions of the story of the Moonstone, -which related to the transport of it from London to Yorkshire; to the risk -which Mr. Blake had run in removing it from the bank at Frizinghall: -and to the unexpected appearance of the Indians at the house, on the evening -of the birthday. And I purposely assumed, in referring to these events, -to have misunderstood much of what Mr. Blake himself had told me a few -hours since. In this way, I set him talking on the subject with which it -was now vitally important to fill his mind--without allowing him to suspect -that I was making him talk for a purpose. Little by little, he became -so interested in putting me right that he forgot to fidget in the bed. -His mind was far away from the question of the opium, at the all-important -time when his eyes first told me that the opium was beginning to lay its hold -on his brain. - -I looked at my watch. It wanted five minutes to twelve, -when the premonitory symptoms of the working of the laudanum -first showed themselves to me. - -At this time, no unpractised eyes would have detected any change -in him. But, as the minutes of the new morning wore away, -the swiftly-subtle progress of the influence began to show itself -more plainly. The sublime intoxication of opium gleamed in his eyes; -the dew of a stealthy perspiration began to glisten on his face. -In five minutes more, the talk which he still kept up with me, -failed in coherence. He held steadily to the subject of the Diamond; -but he ceased to complete his sentences. A little later, -the sentences dropped to single words. Then, there was an interval -of silence. Then, he sat up in bed. Then, still busy with the subject -of the Diamond, he began to talk again--not to me, but to himself. -That change told me that the first stage in the experiment was reached. -The stimulant influence of the opium had got him. - -The time, now, was twenty-three minutes past twelve. The next half hour, -at most, would decide the question of whether he would, or would not, -get up from his bed, and leave the room. - -In the breathless interest of watching him--in the unutterable -triumph of seeing the first result of the experiment declare itself -in the manner, and nearly at the time, which I had anticipated-- -I had utterly forgotten the two companions of my night vigil. -Looking towards them now, I saw the Law (as represented -by Mr. Bruff's papers) lying unheeded on the floor. -Mr. Bruff himself was looking eagerly through a crevice left -in the imperfectly-drawn curtains of the bed. And Betteredge, -oblivious of all respect for social distinctions, was peeping over -Mr. Bruff's shoulder. - -They both started back, on finding that I was looking at them, -like two boys caught out by their schoolmaster in a fault. -I signed to them to take off their boots quietly, as I was taking -off mine. If Mr. Blake gave us the chance of following him, -it was vitally necessary to follow him without noise. - -Ten minutes passed--and nothing happened. Then, he suddenly -threw the bed-clothes off him. He put one leg out of bed. -He waited. - -"I wish I had never taken it out of the bank," he said to himself. -"It was safe in the bank." - -My heart throbbed fast; the pulses at my temples beat furiously. -The doubt about the safety of the Diamond was, once more, -the dominant impression in his brain! On that one pivot, -the whole success of the experiment turned. The prospect thus -suddenly opened before me was too much for my shattered nerves. -I was obliged to look away from him--or I should have lost my -self-control. - -There was another interval of silence. - -When I could trust myself to look back at him he was out of his bed, -standing erect at the side of it. The pupils of his eyes were now contracted; -his eyeballs gleamed in the light of the candle as he moved his head slowly -to and fro. He was thinking; he was doubting--he spoke again. - -"How do I know?" he said. "The Indians may be hidden in the house." - -He stopped, and walked slowly to the other end of the room. -He turned--waited--came back to the bed. - -"It's not even locked up," he went on. "It's in the drawer of her cabinet. -And the drawer doesn't lock." - -He sat down on the side of the bed. "Anybody might take it," -he said. - -He rose again restlessly, and reiterated his first words. - -"How do I know? The Indians may be hidden in the house." - -He waited again. I drew back behind the half curtain of the bed. -He looked about the room, with a vacant glitter in his eyes. -It was a breathless moment. There was a pause of some sort. -A pause in the action of the opium? a pause in the action of -the brain? Who could tell? Everything depended, now, on what he -did next. - -He laid himself down again on the bed! - -A horrible doubt crossed my mind. Was it possible that the -sedative action of the opium was making itself felt already? -It was not in my experience that it should do this. -But what is experience, where opium is concerned? -There are probably no two men in existence on whom the drug -acts in exactly the same manner. Was some constitutional -peculiarity in him, feeling the influence in some new way? -Were we to fail on the very brink of success? - -No! He got up again abruptly. "How the devil am I to sleep," -he said, "with THIS on my mind?" - -He looked at the light, burning on the table at the head of his bed. -After a moment, he took the candle in his hand. - -I blew out the second candle, burning behind the closed curtains. -I drew back, with Mr. Bruff and Betteredge, into the farthest corner -by the bed. I signed to them to be silent, as if their lives had -depended on it. - -We waited--seeing and hearing nothing. We waited, hidden from him -by the curtains. - -The light which he was holding on the other side of us moved suddenly. -The next moment he passed us, swift and noiseless, with the candle in -his hand. - -He opened the bedroom door, and went out. - -We followed him along the corridor. We followed him down the stairs. -We followed him along the second corridor. He never looked back; -he never hesitated. - -He opened the sitting-room door, and went in, leaving it open behind him. - -The door was hung (like all the other doors in the house) -on large old-fashioned hinges. When it was opened, a crevice was -opened between the door and the post. I signed to my two companions -to look through this, so as to keep them from showing themselves. -I placed myself--outside the door also--on the opposite side. -A recess in the wall was at my left hand, in which I could -instantly hide myself, if he showed any signs of looking back into -the corridor. - -He advanced to the middle of the room, with the candle still in his hand: -he looked about him--but he never looked back. - -I saw the door of Miss Verinder's bedroom, standing ajar. -She had put out her light. She controlled herself nobly. -The dim white outline of her summer dress was all that I -could see. Nobody who had not known it beforehand would -have suspected that there was a living creature in the room. -She kept back, in the dark: not a word, not a movement -escaped her. - -It was now ten minutes past one. I heard, through the dead silence, -the soft drip of the rain and the tremulous passage of the night air -through the trees. - -After waiting irresolute, for a minute or more, in the middle of the room, -he moved to the corner near the window, where the Indian cabinet stood. - -He put his candle on the top of the cabinet. He opened, and shut, one drawer -after another, until he came to the drawer in which the mock Diamond was put. -He looked into the drawer for a moment. Then he took the mock Diamond out -with his right hand. With the other hand, he took the candle from the top of -the cabinet. - -He walked back a few steps towards the middle of the room, -and stood still again. - -Thus far, he had exactly repeated what he had done on the birthday night. -Would his next proceeding be the same as the proceeding of last year? -Would he leave the room? Would he go back now, as I believed he had gone -back then, to his bed-chamber? Would he show us what he had done with -the Diamond, when he had returned to his own room? - -His first action, when he moved once more, proved to be an action -which he had not performed, when he was under the influence of -the opium for the first time. He put the candle down on a table, -and wandered on a little towards the farther end of the room. -There was a sofa there. He leaned heavily on the back of it, with his -left hand--then roused himself, and returned to the middle of the room. -I could now see his eyes. They were getting dull and heavy; -the glitter in them was fast dying out. - -The suspense of the moment proved too much for Miss Verinder's -self-control. She advanced a few steps--then stopped again. -Mr. Bruff and Betteredge looked across the open doorway at me -for the first time. The prevision of a coming disappointment was -impressing itself on their minds as well as on mine. - -Still, so long as he stood where he was, there was hope. -We waited, in unutterable expectation, to see what would -happen next. - -The next event was decisive. He let the mock Diamond drop out of his hand. - -It fell on the floor, before the doorway--plainly visible -to him, and to everyone. He made no effort to pick it up: -he looked down at it vacantly, and, as he looked, his head sank -on his breast. He staggered--roused himself for an instant-- -walked back unsteadily to the sofa--and sat down on it. -He made a last effort; he tried to rise, and sank back. -His head fell on the sofa cushions. It was then twenty-five minutes -past one o'clock. Before I had put my watch back in my pocket, -he was asleep. - -It was all over now. The sedative influence had got him; -the experiment was at an end. - - - -I entered the room, telling Mr. Bruff and Betteredge that they -might follow me. There was no fear of disturbing him. -We were free to move and speak. - -"The first thing to settle," I said, "is the question of what we are -to do with him. He will probably sleep for the next six or seven hours, -at least. It is some distance to carry him back to his own room. -When I was younger, I could have done it alone. But my health and strength -are not what they were--I am afraid I must ask you to help me." - -Before they could answer, Miss Verinder called to me softly. -She met me at the door of her room, with a light shawl, -and with the counterpane from her own bed. - -"Do you mean to watch him while he sleeps?" she asked. - -"Yes, I am not sure enough of the action of the opium in his case -to be willing to leave him alone." - -She handed me the shawl and the counterpane. - -"Why should you disturb him?" she whispered. "Make his bed on the sofa. -I can shut my door, and keep in my room." - -It was infinitely the simplest and the safest way of disposing -of him for the night. I mentioned the suggestion to Mr. Bruff -and Betteredge--who both approved of my adopting it. -In five minutes I had laid him comfortably on the sofa, -and had covered him lightly with the counterpane and the shawl. -Miss Verinder wished us good night, and closed the door. -At my request, we three then drew round the table in the middle -of the room, on which the candle was still burning, and on -which writing materials were placed. - -"Before we separate," I began, "I have a word to say about the experiment -which has been tried to-night. Two distinct objects were to be gained by it. -The first of these objects was to prove, that Mr. Blake entered this room, -and took the Diamond, last year, acting unconsciously and irresponsibly, -under the influence of opium. After what you have both seen, are you both -satisfied, so far?" - -They answered me in the affirmative, without a moment's hesitation. - -"The second object," I went on, "was to discover what he did -with the Diamond, after he was seen by Miss Verinder -to leave her sitting-room with the jewel in his hand, -on the birthday night. The gaining of this object depended, -of course, on his still continuing exactly to repeat -his proceedings of last year. He has failed to do that; -and the purpose of the experiment is defeated accordingly. -I can't assert that I am not disappointed at the result-- -but I can honestly say that I am not surprised by it. -I told Mr. Blake from the first, that our complete success -in this matter depended on our completely reproducing in him -the physical and moral conditions of last year--and I warned -him that this was the next thing to a downright impossibility. -We have only partially reproduced the conditions, and the experiment -has been only partially successful in consequence. It is also -possible that I may have administered too large a dose of laudanum. -But I myself look upon the first reason that I have given, -as the true reason why we have to lament a failure, as well as to -rejoice over a success." - -After saying those words, I put the writing materials before Mr. Bruff, -and asked him if he had any objection--before we separated for the night-- -to draw out, and sign, a plain statement of what he had seen. -He at once took the pen, and produced the statement with the fluent -readiness of a practised hand. - -"I owe you this," he said, signing the paper, "as some -atonement for what passed between us earlier in the evening. -I beg your pardon, Mr. Jennings, for having doubted you. -You have done Franklin Blake an inestimable service. In our -legal phrase, you have proved your case." - -Betteredge's apology was characteristic of the man. - -"Mr. Jennings," he said, "when you read ROBINSON CRUSOE again -(which I strongly recommend you to do), you will find that he never -scruples to acknowledge it, when he turns out to have been in the wrong. -Please to consider me, sir, as doing what Robinson Crusoe did, -on the present occasion." With those words he signed the paper in -his turn. - -Mr. Bruff took me aside, as we rose from the table. - -"One word about the Diamond," he said. "Your theory is that -Franklin Blake hid the Moonstone in his room. My theory is, -that the Moonstone is in the possession of Mr. Luker's -bankers in London. We won't dispute which of us is right. -We will only ask, which of us is in a position to put his theory -to the test?" - -"The test, in my case, I answered, "has been tried to-night, and has failed." - -"The test, in my case," rejoined Mr. Bruff, "is still in process of trial. -For the last two days I have had a watch set for Mr. Luker at the bank; -and I shall cause that watch to be continued until the last day of the month. -I know that he must take the Diamond himself out of his bankers" hands--and I -am acting on the chance that the person who has pledged the Diamond may -force him to do this by redeeming the pledge. In that case I may be able -to lay my hand on the person. If I succeed, I clear up the mystery, -exactly at the point where the mystery baffles us now! Do you admit that, -so far?" - -I admitted it readily. - -"I am going back to town by the morning train," pursued the lawyer. -"I may hear, when I return, that a discovery has been made-- -and it may be of the greatest importance that I should have Franklin -Blake at hand to appeal to, if necessary. I intend to tell him, -as soon as he wakes, that he must return with me to London. -After all that has happened, may I trust to your influence to -back me?" - -"Certainly!" I said. - -Mr. Bruff shook hands with me, and left the room. Betteredge followed -him out; I went to the sofa to look at Mr. Blake. He had not moved -since I had laid him down and made his bed--he lay locked in a deep -and quiet sleep. - -While I was still looking at him, I heard the bedroom door softly opened. -Once more, Miss Verinder appeared on the threshold, in her pretty -summer dress. - -"Do me a last favour?" she whispered. "Let me watch him with you." - -I hesitated--not in the interests of propriety; only in the interest -of her night's rest. She came close to me, and took my hand. - -"I can't sleep; I can't even sit still, in my own room," she said. -"Oh, Mr. Jennings, if you were me, only think how you would long to sit -and look at him. Say, yes! Do!" - -Is it necessary to mention that I gave way? Surely not! - -She drew a chair to the foot of the sofa. She looked at him -in a silent ecstasy of happiness, till the tears rose in her eyes. -She dried her eyes, and said she would fetch her work. -She fetched her work, and never did a single stitch of it. -It lay in her lap--she was not even able to look away from him -long enough to thread her needle. I thought of my own youth; -I thought of the gentle eyes which had once looked love at me. -In the heaviness of my heart I turned to my Journal for relief, and -wrote in it what is written here. - -So we kept our watch together in silence. One of us absorbed in his writing; -the other absorbed in her love. - -Hour after hour he lay in his deep sleep. The light of the new day -grew and grew in the room, and still he never moved. - -Towards six o'clock, I felt the warning which told me that my pains were -coming back. I was obliged to leave her alone with him for a little while. -I said I would go up-stairs, and fetch another pillow for him out of -his room. It was not a long attack, this time. In a little while I -was able to venture back, and let her see me again. - -I found her at the head of the sofa, when I returned. -She was just touching his forehead with her lips. I shook -my head as soberly as I could, and pointed to her chair. -She looked back at me with a bright smile, and a charming -colour in her face. "You would have done it," she whispered," -in my place!" - - -* * * * * * * * * * - - -It is just eight o'clock. He is beginning to move for the first time. - -Miss Verinder is kneeling by the side of the sofa. She has so placed -herself that when his eyes first open, they must open on her face. - -Shall I leave them together? - -Yes! - - -* * * * * * * * * * - - -Eleven o'clock.--The house is empty again. They have arranged it -among themselves; they have all gone to London by the ten o'clock train. -My brief dream of happiness is over. I have awakened again to the realities -of my friendless and lonely life. - -I dare not trust myself to write down, the kind words that have been said -to me especially by Miss Verinder and Mr. Blake. Besides, it is needless. -Those words will come back to me in my solitary hours, and will help -me through what is left of the end of my life. Mr. Blake is to write, -and tell me what happens in London. Miss Verinder is to return to Yorkshire -in the autumn (for her marriage, no doubt); and I am to take a holiday, -and be a guest in the house. Oh me, how I felt, as the grateful happiness -looked at me out of her eyes, and the warm pressure of her hand said, -"This is your doing!" - -My poor patients are waiting for me. Back again, this morning, -to the old routine! Back again, to-night, to the dreadful -alternative between the opium and the pain! - -God be praised for His mercy! I have seen a little sunshine-- -I have had a happy time. - - - - FIFTH NARRATIVE - - The Story Resumed by FRANKLIN BLAKE - -CHAPTER I - - -But few words are needed, on my part, to complete the narrative -that has been presented in the Journal of Ezra Jennings. - -Of myself, I have only to say that I awoke on the morning of the twenty-sixth, -perfectly ignorant of all that I had said and done under the influence -of the opium--from the time when the drug first laid its hold on me, -to the time when I opened my eyes, in Rachel's sitting-room. - -Of what happened after my waking, I do not feel called upon to -render an account in detail. Confining myself merely to results, -I have to report that Rachel and I thoroughly understood each other, -before a single word of explanation had passed on either side. -I decline to account, and Rachel declines to account, for the -extraordinary rapidity of our reconciliation. Sir and Madam, -look back at the time when you were passionately attached to each other-- -and you will know what happened, after Ezra Jennings had shut the door -of the sitting-room, as well as I know it myself. - -I have, however, no objection to add, that we should have been certainly -discovered by Mrs. Merridew, but for Rachel's presence of mind. -She heard the sound of the old lady's dress in the corridor, -and instantly ran out to meet her; I heard Mrs. Merridew say, -"What is the matter?" and I heard Rachel answer, "The explosion!" -Mrs. Merridew instantly permitted herself to be taken by the arm, -and led into the garden, out of the way of the impending shock. -On her return to the house, she met me in the hall, -and expressed herself as greatly struck by the vast improvement -in Science, since the time when she was a girl at school. -"Explosions, Mr. Blake, are infinitely milder than they were. -I assure you, I barely heard Mr. Jennings's explosion from the garden. -And no smell afterwards, that I can detect, now we have come back -to the house! I must really apologise to your medical friend. -It is only due to him to say that he has managed it beautifully!" - -So, after vanquishing Betteredge and Mr. Bruff, Ezra Jennings vanquished -Mrs. Merridew herself. There is a great deal of undeveloped liberal -feeling in the world, after all! - -At breakfast, Mr. Bruff made no secret of his reasons for wishing -that I should accompany him to London by the morning train. -The watch kept at the bank, and the result which might yet -come of it, appealed so irresistibly to Rachel's curiosity, -that she at once decided (if Mrs. Merridew had no objection) -on accompanying us back to town--so as to be within reach of the -earliest news of our proceedings. - -Mrs. Merridew proved to be all pliability and indulgence, -after the truly considerate manner in which the explosion had -conducted itself; and Betteredge was accordingly informed that we -were all four to travel back together by the morning train. -I fully expected that he would have asked leave to accompany us. -But Rachel had wisely provided her faithful old servant with an -occupation that interested him. He was charged with completing -the refurnishing of the house, and was too full of his domestic -responsibilities to feel the "detective-fever" as he might have felt -it under other circumstances. - -Our one subject of regret, in going to London, was the necessity -of parting, more abruptly than we could have wished, with Ezra Jennings. -It was impossible to persuade him to accompany us. I could only promise -to write to him--and Rachel could only insist on his coming to see her -when she returned to Yorkshire. There was every prospect of our meeting -again in a few months--and yet there was something very sad in seeing -our best and dearest friend left standing alone on the platform, -as the train moved out of the station. - -On our arrival in London, Mr. Bruff was accosted at the terminus by a -small boy, dressed in a jacket and trousers of threadbare black cloth, -and personally remarkable in virtue of the extraordinary prominence -of his eyes. They projected so far, and they rolled about so loosely, -that you wondered uneasily why they remained in their sockets. -After listening to the boy, Mr. Bruff asked the ladies whether -they would excuse our accompanying them back to Portland Place. -I had barely time to promise Rachel that I would return, and tell her -everything that had happened, before Mr. Bruff seized me by the arm, -and hurried me into a cab. The boy with the ill-secured eyes took his -place on the box by the driver, and the driver was directed to go to -Lombard Street. - -"News from the bank?" I asked, as we started. - -"News of Mr. Luker," said Mr. Bruff. "An hour ago, he was seen -to leave his house at Lambeth, in a cab, accompanied by two men, -who were recognised by my men as police officers in plain clothes. -If Mr. Luker's dread of the Indians is at the bottom of this precaution, -the inference is plain enough. He is going to take the Diamond out of -the bank." - -"And we are going to the bank to see what comes of it?" - -"Yes--or to hear what has come of it, if it is all over by this time. -Did you notice my boy--on the box, there?" - -"I noticed his eyes." - -Mr. Bruff laughed. "They call the poor little wretch " Gooseberry" -at the office," he said. "I employ him to go on errands--and I only wish my -clerks who have nick-named him were as thoroughly to be depended on as he is. -Gooseberry is one of the sharpest boys in London, Mr. Blake, in spite of -his eyes." - -It was twenty minutes to five when we drew up before the bank -in Lombard Street. Gooseberry looked longingly at his master, -as he opened the cab door. - -"Do you want to come in too?" asked Mr. Bruff kindly. -"Come in then, and keep at my heels till further orders. -He's as quick as lightning," pursued Mr. Bruff, addressing me in -a whisper. "Two words will do with Gooseberry, where twenty would -be wanted with another boy." - -We entered the bank. The outer office--with the long counter, -behind which the cashiers sat--was crowded with people; -all waiting their turn to take money out, or to pay money in, -before the bank closed at five o'clock. - -Two men among the crowd approached Mr. Bruff, as soon as he showed himself. - -"Well," asked the lawyer. "Have you seen him?" - -"He passed us here half an hour since, sir, and went on into -the inner office." - -"Has he not come out again yet?" - -"No, sir." - -Mr. Bruff turned to me. "Let us wait," he said. - -I looked round among the people about me for the three Indians. -Not a sign of them was to be seen anywhere. The only person -present with a noticeably dark complexion was a tall man -in a pilot coat, and a round hat, who looked like a sailor. -Could this be one of them in disguise? Impossible! The man -was taller than any of the Indians; and his face, where it was -not hidden by a bushy black beard, was twice the breadth of any -of their faces at least. - -"They must have their spy somewhere," said Mr. Bruff, looking at the dark -sailor in his turn. "And he may be the man." - -Before he could say more, his coat-tail was respectfully -pulled by his attendant sprite with the gooseberry eyes. -Mr. Bruff looked where the boy was looking. "Hush!" he said. -"Here is Mr. Luker!" - -The money-lender came out from the inner regions of the bank, -followed by his two guardian policemen in plain clothes. - -"Keep your eye on him," whispered Mr. Bruff. "If he passes -the Diamond to anybody, he will pass it here." - -Without noticing either of us, Mr. Luker slowly made his way to the door-- -now in the thickest, now in the thinnest part of the crowd. -I distinctly saw his hand move, as he passed a short, stout man, -respectably dressed in a suit of sober grey. The man started a little, -and looked after him. Mr. Luker moved on slowly through the crowd. -At the door his guard placed themselves on either side of him. -They were all three followed by one of Mr. Bruff's men--and I saw them -no more. - -I looked round at the lawyer, and then looked significantly towards -the man in the suit of sober grey. "Yes!" whispered Mr. Bruff, -"I saw it too!" He turned about, in search of his second man. -The second man was nowhere to be seen. He looked behind him for his -attendant sprite. Gooseberry had disappeared. - -"What the devil does it mean?" said Mr. Bruff angrily. -"They have both left us at the very time when we want -them most." - -It came to the turn of the man in the grey suit to transact his business -at the counter. He paid in a cheque--received a receipt for it-- -and turned to go out. - -"What is to be done?" asked Mr. Bruff. "We can't degrade ourselves -by following him." - -"I can!" I said. "I wouldn't lose sight of that man for ten -thousand pounds!" - -"In that case," rejoined Mr. Bruff, "I wouldn't lose sight of you, -for twice the money. A nice occupation for a man in my position," -he muttered to himself, as we followed the stranger out of the bank. -"For Heaven's sake don't mention it. I should be ruined if it -was known." - -The man in the grey suit got into an omnibus, going westward. -We got in after him. There were latent reserves of youth still left -in Mr. Bruff. I assert it positively--when he took his seat in -the omnibus, he blushed! - -The man in the grey suit stopped the omnibus, and got out in Oxford Street. -We followed him again. He went into a chemist's shop. - -Mr. Bruff started. "My chemist!" he exclaimed. "I am afraid we -have made a mistake." - -We entered the shop. Mr. Bruff and the proprietor exchanged a few words -in private. The lawyer joined me again, with a very crestfallen face. - -"It's greatly to our credit," he said, as he took my arm, -and led me out--"that's one comfort!" - -"What is to our credit?" I asked. - -"Mr. Blake! you and I are the two worst amateur detectives -that ever tried their hands at the trade. The man in the grey -suit has been thirty years in the chemist's service. -He was sent to the bank to pay money to his master's account-- -and he knows no more of the Moonstone than the babe unborn." - -I asked what was to be done next. - -"Come back to my office," said Mr. Bruff. "Gooseberry, and my second man, -have evidently followed somebody else. Let us hope that THEY had their eyes -about them at any rate!" - -When we reached Gray's Inn Square, the second man had arrived -there before us. He had been waiting for more than a quarter -of an hour. - -"Well!" asked Mr. Bruff. "What's your news?" - -"I am sorry to say, sir," replied the man, "that I have made a mistake. -I could have taken my oath that I saw Mr. Luker pass something to an -elderly gentleman, in a light-coloured paletot. The elderly gentleman -turns out, sir, to be a most respectable master iron-monger in Eastcheap." - -"Where is Gooseberry?" asked Mr. Bruff resignedly. - -The man stared. "I don't know, sir. I have seen nothing of him -since I left the bank." - -Mr. Bruff dismissed the man. "One of two things," he said to me. -"Either Gooseberry has run away, or he is hunting on his own account. -What do you say to dining here, on the chance that the boy may come -back in an hour or two? I have got some good wine in the cellar, -and we can get a chop from the coffee-house." - -We dined at Mr. Bruff's chambers. Before the cloth was removed, -"a person" was announced as wanting to speak to the lawyer. -Was the person Gooseberry? No: only the man who had been employed to -follow Mr. Luker when he left the bank. - -The report, in this case, presented no feature of the slightest interest. -Mr. Luker had gone back to his own house, and had there dismissed -his guard. He had not gone out again afterwards. Towards dusk, -the shutters had been put up, and the doors had been bolted. -The street before the house, and the alley behind the house, -had been carefully watched. No signs of the Indians had been visible. -No person whatever had been seen loitering about the premises. -Having stated these facts, the man waited to know whether -there were any further orders. Mr. Bruff dismissed him for -the night. - -"Do you think Mr. Luker has taken the Moonstone home with him?" -I asked. - -"Not he," said Mr. Bruff. "He would never have dismissed his two policemen, -if he had run the risk of keeping the Diamond in his own house again." - -We waited another half-hour for the boy, and waited in vain. -It was then time for Mr. Bruff to go to Hampstead, and for me -to return to Rachel in Portland Place. I left my card, -in charge of the porter at the chambers, with a line written -on it to say that I should be at my lodgings at half past ten, -that night. The card was to be given to the boy, if the boy -came back. - -Some men have a knack of keeping appointments; and other men -have a knack of missing them. I am one of the other men. -Add to this, that I passed the evening at Portland Place, -on the same seat with Rachel, in a room forty feet long, -with Mrs. Merridew at the further end of it. Does anybody wonder -that I got home at half past twelve instead of half past ten? -How thoroughly heartless that person must be! And how earnestly I -hope I may never make that person's acquaintance! - -My servant handed me a morsel of paper when he let me in. - -I read, in a neat legal handwriting, these words--"If you please, sir, I am -getting sleepy. I will come back to-morrow morning, between nine and ten." -Inquiry proved that a boy, with very extraordinary-looking eyes, had called, -and presented my card and message, had waited an hour, had done nothing but -fall asleep and wake up again, had written a line for me, and had gone home-- -after gravely informing the servant that "he was fit for nothing unless he got -his night's rest." - -At nine, the next morning, I was ready for my visitor. At half past nine, -I heard steps outside my door. "Come in, Gooseberry!" I called out. -"Thank you, sir," answered a grave and melancholy voice. The door opened. -I started to my feet, and confronted--Sergeant Cuff. - -"I thought I would look in here, Mr. Blake, on the chance of your being -in town, before I wrote to Yorkshire," said the Sergeant. - -He was as dreary and as lean as ever. His eyes had not lost -their old trick (so subtly noticed in Betteredge's NARRATIVE) -of "looking as if they expected something more from you than -you were aware of yourself." But, so far as dress can alter -a man, the great Cuff was changed beyond all recognition. -He wore a broad-brimmed white hat, a light shooting jacket, -white trousers, and drab gaiters. He carried a stout oak stick. -His whole aim and object seemed to be to look as if he had -lived in the country all his life. When I complimented him -on his Metamorphosis, he declined to take it as a joke. -He complained, quite gravely, of the noises and the smells -of London. I declare I am far from sure that he did not speak -with a slightly rustic accent! I offered him breakfast. -The innocent countryman was quite shocked. HIS breakfast -hour was half-past six--and HE went to bed with the cocks -and hens! - -"I only got back from Ireland last night," said the Sergeant, -coming round to the practical object of his visit, in his own -impenetrable manner. "Before I went to bed, I read your letter, -telling me what has happened since my inquiry after the Diamond -was suspended last year. There's only one thing to be said -about the matter on my side. I completely mistook my case. -How any man living was to have seen things in their true light, -in such a situation as mine was at the time, I don't profess -to know. But that doesn't alter the facts as they stand. -I own that I made a mess of it. Not the first mess, Mr. Blake, -which has distinguished my professional career! It's only -in books that the officers of the detective force are superior -to the weakness of making a mistake." - -"You have come in the nick of time to recover your reputation," -I said. - -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Blake," rejoined the Sergeant. -"Now I have retired from business, I don't care a straw about -my reputation. I have done with my reputation, thank God! -I am here, sir, in grateful remembrance of the late Lady -Verinder's liberality to me. I will go back to my old work-- -if you want me, and if you will trust me--on that consideration, -and on no other. Not a farthing of money is to pass, -if you please, from you to me. This is on honour. -Now tell me, Mr. Blake, how the case stands since you wrote to -me last." - -I told him of the experiment with the opium, and of what had occurred -afterwards at the bank in Lombard Street. He was greatly struck -by the experiment--it was something entirely new in his experience. -And he was particularly interested in the theory of Ezra Jennings, -relating to what I had done with the Diamond, after I had left Rachel's -sitting-room, on the birthday night. - -"I don't hold with Mr. Jennings that you hid the Moonstone," -said Sergeant Cuff. "But I agree with him, that you must -certainly have taken it back to your own room." - -"Well?" I asked. "And what happened then?" - -"Have you no suspicion yourself of what happened, sir?" - -"None whatever." - -"Has Mr. Bruff no suspicion?" - -"No more than I have." - -Sergeant Cuff rose, and went to my writing-table. He came back with -a sealed envelope. It was marked "Private;" it was addressed to me; -and it had the Sergeant's signature in the corner. - -"I suspected the wrong person, last year," he said: -"and I may be suspecting the wrong person now. Wait to open -the envelope, Mr. Blake, till you have got at the truth. -And then compare the name of the guilty person, with the name that I -have written in that sealed letter." - -I put the letter into my pocket--and then asked for the Sergeant's opinion -of the measures which we had taken at the bank. - -"Very well intended, sir," he answered, "and quite the right thing to do. -But there was another person who ought to have been looked after besides -Mr. Luker." - -"The person named in the letter you have just given to me?" - -"Yes, Mr. Blake, the person named in the letter. It can't be helped now. -I shall have something to propose to you and Mr. Bruff, sir, when the -time comes. Let's wait, first, and see if the boy has anything to tell -us that is worth hearing." - -It was close on ten o'clock, and the boy had not made his appearance. -Sergeant Cuff talked of other matters. He asked after his old -friend Betteredge, and his old enemy the gardener. In a minute more, -he would no doubt have got from this, to the subject of his -favourite roses, if my servant had not interrupted us by announcing -that the boy was below. - -On being brought into the room, Gooseberry stopped at the threshold of -the door, and looked distrustfully at the stranger who was in my company. -I told the boy to come to me. - -"You may speak before this gentleman," I said. "He is here to assist me; -and he knows all that has happened. Sergeant Cuff," I added, "this is the boy -from Mr. Bruff's office." - -In our modern system of civilisation, celebrity (no matter of what kind) -is the lever that will move anything. The fame of the great Cuff had even -reached the ears of the small Gooseberry. The boy's ill-fixed eyes rolled, -when I mentioned the illustrious name, till I thought they really must have -dropped on the carpet. - -"Come here, my lad," said the Sergeant, and let's hear what you -have got to tell us." - -The notice of the great man--the hero of many a famous story -in every lawyer's office in London--appeared to fascinate the boy. -He placed himself in front of Sergeant Cuff, and put his hands -behind him, after the approved fashion of a neophyte who is examined -in his catechism. - -"What is your name?" said the Sergeant, beginning with the first question -in the catechism. - -"Octavius Guy," answered the boy. "They call me Gooseberry -at the office because of my eyes." - -"Octavius Guy, otherwise Gooseberry," pursued the Sergeant, -with the utmost gravity, "you were missed at the bank yesterday. -What were you about?" - -"If you please, sir, I was following a man." - -"Who was he?" - -"A tall man, sir, with a big black beard, dressed like a sailor." - -"I remember the man!" I broke in. "Mr. Bruff and I thought -he was a spy employed by the Indians." - -Sergeant Cuff did not appear to be much impressed by what Mr. Bruff and I -had thought. He went on catechising Gooseberry. - -"Well?" he said--"and why did you follow the sailor?" - -"If you please, sir, Mr. Bruff wanted to know whether Mr. Luker -passed anything to anybody on his way out of the bank. -I saw Mr. Luker pass something to the sailor with the black beard." - -"Why didn't you tell Mr. Bruff what you saw?" - -"I hadn't time to tell anybody, sir, the sailor went out in such a hurry." - -"And you ran out after him--eh?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"Gooseberry," said the Sergeant, patting his head, "you have got -something in that small skull of yours--and it isn't cotton-wool. -I am greatly pleased with you, so far." - -The boy blushed with pleasure. Sergeant Cuff went on. - -"Well? and what did the sailor do, when he got into the street?" - -"He called a cab, sir." - -"And what did you do?" - -"Held on behind, and run after it. - -Before the Sergeant could put his next question, another visitor -was announced--the head clerk from Mr. Bruff's office. - -Feeling the importance of not interrupting Sergeant Cuff's -examination of the boy, I received the clerk in another room. -He came with bad news of his employer. The agitation and excitement -of the last two days had proved too much for Mr. Bruff. -He had awoke that morning with an attack of gout; he was confined -to his room at Hampstead; and, in the present critical condition -of our affairs, he was very uneasy at being compelled to leave -me without the advice and assistance of an experienced person. -The chief clerk had received orders to hold himself at -my disposal, and was willing to do his best to replace -Mr. Bruff. - -I wrote at once to quiet the old gentleman's mind, by telling him of Sergeant -Cuff's visit: adding that Gooseberry was at that moment under examination; -and promising to inform Mr. Bruff, either personally, or by letter, -of whatever might occur later in the day. Having despatched the clerk -to Hampstead with my note, I returned to the room which I had left, and found -Sergeant Cuff at the fireplace, in the act of ringing the bell. - -"I beg your pardon, Mr. Blake," said the Sergeant. "I was just -going to send word by your servant that I wanted to speak to you. -There isn't a doubt on my mind that this boy--this most meritorious boy," -added the Sergeant, patting Gooseberry on the head, "has followed -the right man. Precious time has been lost, sir, through your -unfortunately not being at home at half past ten last night. -The only thing to do, now, is to send for a cab immediately." - -In five minutes more, Sergeant Cuff and I (with Gooseberry -on the box to guide the driver) were on our way eastward, -towards the City. - -"One of these days," said the Sergeant, pointing through the front window -of the cab, "that boy will do great things in my late profession. -He is the brightest and cleverest little chap I have met with, -for many a long year past. You shall hear the substance, Mr. Blake, -of what he told me while you were out of the room. You were present, -I think, when he mentioned that he held on behind the cab, and ran -after it?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, sir, the cab went from Lombard Street to the Tower Wharf. -The sailor with the black beard got out, and spoke to the steward -of the Rotterdam steamboat, which was to start next morning. -He asked if he could be allowed to go on board at once, and sleep -in his berth over-night. The steward said, No. The cabins, and berths, -and bedding were all to have a thorough cleaning that evening, -and no passenger could be allowed to come on board, before the morning. -The sailor turned round, and left the wharf. When he got into -the street again, the boy noticed for the first time, a man dressed -like a respectable mechanic, walking on the opposite side of the road, -and apparently keeping the sailor in view. The sailor stopped -at an eating-house in the neighbourhood, and went in. The boy-- -not being able to make up his mind, at the moment--hung about among -some other boys, staring at the good things in the eating-house window. -He noticed the mechanic waiting, as he himself was waiting-- -but still on the opposite side of the street. After a minute, -a cab came by slowly, and stopped where the mechanic was standing. -The boy could only see plainly one person in the cab, who leaned forward at -the window to speak to the mechanic. He described that person, Mr. Blake, -without any prompting from me, as having a dark face, like the face of -an Indian." - -It was plain, by this time, that Mr. Bruff and I had made another mistake. -The sailor with the black beard was clearly not a spy in the service -of the Indian conspiracy. Was he, by any possibility, the man who had got -the Diamond? - -"After a little," pursued the Sergeant, "the cab moved on slowly -down the street. The mechanic crossed the road, and went into -the eating-house. The boy waited outside till he was hungry -and tired--and then went into the eating-house, in his turn. -He had a shilling in his pocket; and he dined sumptuously, -he tells me, on a black-pudding, an eel-pie, and a bottle -of ginger-beer. What can a boy not digest? The substance -in question has never been found yet." - -"What did he see in the eating-house?" I asked. - -"Well, Mr. Blake, he saw the sailor reading the newspaper at -one table, and the mechanic reading the newspaper at another. -It was dusk before the sailor got up, and left the place. -He looked about him suspiciously when he got out into the street. -The boy--BEING a boy--passed unnoticed. The mechanic had -not come out yet. The sailor walked on, looking about him, -and apparently not very certain of where he was going next. -The mechanic appeared once more, on the opposite side of the road. -The sailor went on, till he got to Shore Lane, leading into -Lower Thames Street. There he stopped before a public-house, -under the sign of "The Wheel of Fortune," and, after examining -the place outside, went in. Gooseberry went in too. There were -a great many people, mostly of the decent sort, at the bar. -"The Wheel of Fortune" is a very respectable house, Mr. Blake; -famous for its porter and pork-pies." - -The Sergeant's digressions irritated me. He saw it; and confined -himself more strictly to Gooseberry's evidence when he went on. - -"The sailor," he resumed, "asked if he could have a bed. -The landlord said "No; they were full." The barmaid -corrected him, and said "Number Ten was empty." A waiter was -sent for to show the sailor to Number Ten. Just before that, -Gooseberry had noticed the mechanic among the people at the bar. -Before the waiter had answered the call, the mechanic had vanished. -The sailor was taken off to his room. Not knowing what to do next, -Gooseberry had the wisdom to wait and see if anything happened. -Something did happen. The landlord was called for. -Angry voices were heard up-stairs. The mechanic suddenly made -his appearance again, collared by the landlord, and exhibiting, -to Gooseberry's great surprise, all the signs and tokens -of being drunk. The landlord thrust him out at the door, -and threatened him with the police if he came back. -From the altercation between them, while this was going on, -it appeared that the man had been discovered in Number Ten, -and had declared with drunken obstinacy that he had taken the room. -Gooseberry was so struck by this sudden intoxication of a -previously sober person, that he couldn't resist running -out after the mechanic into the street. As long as he was -in sight of the public-house, the man reeled about in the most -disgraceful manner. The moment he turned the corner of the street, -he recovered his balance instantly, and became as sober a member -of society as you could wish to see. Gooseberry went back -to "The Wheel of Fortune" in a very bewildered state of mind. -He waited about again, on the chance of something happening. -Nothing happened; and nothing more was to be heard, or seen, -of the sailor. Gooseberry decided on going back to the office. -Just as he came to this conclusion, who should appear, on the -opposite side of the street as usual, but the mechanic again! -He looked up at one particular window at the top of the -public-house, which was the only one that had a light in it. -The light seemed to relieve his mind. He left the place directly. -The boy made his way back to Gray's Inn--got your card -and message--called--and failed to find you. There you have -the state of the case, Mr. Blake, as it stands at the present -time." - -"What is your own opinion of the case, Sergeant?" - -"I think it's serious, sir. Judging by what the boy saw, -the Indians are in it, to begin with." - -"Yes. And the sailor is evidently the person to whom Mr. Luker -passed the Diamond. It seems odd that Mr. Bruff, and I, -and the man in Mr. Bruff's employment, should all have been -mistaken about who the person was." - -"Not at all, Mr. Blake. Considering the risk that person ran, -it's likely enough that Mr. Luker purposely misled you, -by previous arrangement between them." - -"Do you understand the proceedings at the public-house?" I asked. -"The man dressed like a mechanic was acting of course in the employment -of the Indians. But I am as much puzzled to account for his sudden -assumption of drunkenness as Gooseberry himself." - -"I think I can give a guess at what it means, sir," said the Sergeant. -"If you will reflect, you will see that the man must have had some pretty -strict instructions from the Indians. They were far too noticeable -themselves to risk being seen at the bank, or in the public-house-- -they were obliged to trust everything to their deputy. Very good. -Their deputy hears a certain number named in the public-house, -as the number of the room which the sailor is to have for the night-- -that being also the room (unless our notion is all wrong) which the Diamond -is to have for the night, too. Under those circumstances, the Indians, -you may rely on it, would insist on having a description of the room-- -of its position in the house, of its capability of being approached from -the outside, and so on. What was the man to do, with such orders as these? -Just what he did! He ran up-stairs to get a look at the room, before the -sailor was taken into it. He was found there, making his observations-- -and he shammed drunk, as the easiest way of getting out of the difficulty. -That's how I read the riddle. After he was turned out of the public-house, -he probably went with his report to the place where his employers -were waiting for him. And his employers, no doubt, sent him back -to make sure that the sailor was really settled at the public-house -till the next morning. As for what happened at "The Wheel of Fortune," -after the boy left--we ought to have discovered that last night. -It's eleven in the morning, now. We must hope for the best, and find out what -we can." - -In a quarter of an hour more, the cab stopped in Shore Lane, -and Gooseberry opened the door for us to get out. - -"All right?" asked the Sergeant. - -"All right," answered the boy. - -The moment we entered "The Wheel of Fortune" it was plain even to my -inexperienced eyes that there was something wrong in the house. - -The only person behind the counter at which the liquors were served, -was a bewildered servant girl, perfectly ignorant of the business. -One or two customers, waiting for their morning drink, were tapping -impatiently on the counter with their money. The bar-maid appeared -from the inner regions of the parlour, excited and preoccupied. -She answered Sergeant Cuff's inquiry for the landlord, by telling him -sharply that her master was up-stairs, and was not to be bothered -by anybody. - -"Come along with me, sir," said Sergeant Cuff, coolly leading the way -up-stairs, and beckoning to the boy to follow him. - -The barmaid called to her master, and warned him that strangers -were intruding themselves into the house. On the first floor -we were encountered by the Landlord, hurrying down, in a highly -irritated state, to see what was the matter. - -"Who the devil are you? and what do you want here?" he asked. - -"Keep your temper," said the Sergeant, quietly. "I'll tell you who I -am to begin with. I am Sergeant Cuff." - -The illustrious name instantly produced its effect. -The angry landlord threw open the door of a sitting-room, -and asked the Sergeant's pardon. - -"I am annoyed and out of sorts, sir--that's the truth," he said. -"Something unpleasant has happened in the house this morning. -A man in my way of business has a deal to upset his temper, -Sergeant Cuff." - -"Not a doubt of it," said the Sergeant. "I'll come at once, -if you will allow me, to what brings us here. This gentleman -and I want to trouble you with a few inquiries, on a matter -of some interest to both of us." - -"Relating to what, sir?" asked the landlord. - -"Relating to a dark man, dressed like a sailor, who slept here last night." - -"Good God! that's the man who is upsetting the whole house at this moment!" -exclaimed the landlord. "Do you, or does this gentleman know anything -about him?" - -"We can't be certain till we see him," answered the Sergeant. - -"See him?" echoed the landlord. "That's the one thing that -nobody has been able to do since seven o'clock this morning. -That was the time when he left word, last night, that he was -to be called. He WAS called--and there was no getting an answer -from him, and no opening his door to see what was the matter. -They tried again at eight, and they tried again at nine. -No use! There was the door still locked--and not a sound -to be heard in the room! I have been out this morning-- -and I only got back a quarter of an hour ago. -I have hammered at the door myself--and all to no purpose. -The potboy has gone to fetch a carpenter. If you can wait a -few minutes, gentlemen, we will have the door opened, and see what -it means." - -"Was the man drunk last night?" asked Sergeant Cuff. - -"Perfectly sober, sir--or I would never have let him sleep in my house." - -"Did he pay for his bed beforehand?" - -"No." - -"Could he leave the room in any way, without going out by the door?" - -"The room is a garret," said the landlord. "But there's a -trap-door in the ceiling, leading out on to the roof--and a little -lower down the street, there's an empty house under repair. -Do you think, Sergeant, the blackguard has got off in that way, -without paying?" - -"A sailor," said Sergeant Cuff, "might have done it--early in the morning, -before the street was astir. He would be used to climbing, and his head -wouldn't fail him on the roofs of the houses." - -As he spoke, the arrival of the carpenter was announced. -We all went up-stairs, at once, to the top story. -I noticed that the Sergeant was unusually grave, even for him. -It also struck me as odd that he told the boy (after having -previously encouraged him to follow us), to wait in the room -below till we came down again. - -The carpenter's hammer and chisel disposed of the resistance of -the door in a few minutes. But some article of furniture had been -placed against it inside, as a barricade. By pushing at the door, -we thrust this obstacle aside, and so got admission to the room. -The landlord entered first; the Sergeant second; and I third. -The other persons present followed us. - -We all looked towards the bed, and all started. - -The man had not left the room. He lay, dressed, on the bed-- -with a white pillow over his face, which completely hid it -from view. - -"What does that mean?" said the landlord, pointing to the pillow. - -Sergeant Cuff led the way to the bed, without answering, -and removed the pillow. - -The man's swarthy face was placid and still; his black -hair and beard were slightly, very slightly, discomposed. -His eyes stared wide-open, glassy and vacant, at the ceiling. -The filmy look and the fixed expression of them horrified me. -I turned away, and went to the open window. The rest of -them remained, where Sergeant Cuff remained, at the bed. - -"He's in a fit!" I heard the landlord say. - -"He's dead," the Sergeant answered. "Send for the nearest doctor, -and send for the police." - -The waiter was despatched on both errands. Some strange -fascination seemed to hold Sergeant Cuff to the bed. -Some strange curiosity seemed to keep the rest of them waiting, -to see what the Sergeant would do next. - -I turned again to the window. The moment afterwards, I felt -a soft pull at my coat-tails, and a small voice whispered, -"Look here, sir!" - -Gooseberry had followed us into the room. His loose eyes -rolled frightfully--not in terror, but in exultation. -He had made a detective-discovery on his own account. -"Look here, sir," he repeated--and led me to a table in the corner -of the room. - -On the table stood a little wooden box, open, and empty. -On one side of the box lay some jewellers' cotton. On the -other side, was a torn sheet of white paper, with a seal on it, -partly destroyed, and with an inscription in writing, -which was still perfectly legible. The inscription was in -these words: - -"Deposited with Messrs. Bushe, Lysaught, and Bushe, by Mr. Septimus Luker, -of Middlesex Place, Lambeth, a small wooden box, sealed up in this envelope, -and containing a valuable of great price. The box, when claimed, -to be only given up by Messrs. Bushe and Co. on the personal application -of Mr. Luker." - -Those lines removed all further doubt, on one point at least. -The sailor had been in possession of the Moonstone, when he had left -the bank on the previous day. - -I felt another pull at my coat-tails. Gooseberry had not done with me yet. - -"Robbery!" whispered the boy, pointing, in high delight, -to the empty box. - -"You were told to wait down-stairs," I said. "Go away!" - -"And Murder!" added Gooseberry, pointing, with a keener relish still, -to the man on the bed. - -There was something so hideous in the boy's enjoyment of the horror -of the scene, that I took him by the two shoulders and put him -out of the room. - -At the moment when I crossed the threshold of the door, -I heard Sergeant Cuff's voice, asking where I was. He met me, -as I returned into the room, and forced me to go back with him -to the bedside. - -"Mr. Blake!" he said. "Look at the man's face. It is a face disguised-- -and here's a proof of it!" - -He traced with his finger a thin line of livid white, running backward -from the dead man's forehead, between the swarthy complexion, -and the slightly-disturbed black hair. "Let's see what is under this," -said the Sergeant, suddenly seizing the black hair, with a firm grip -of his hand. - -My nerves were not strong enough to bear it. I turned away again -from the bed. - -The first sight that met my eyes, at the other end of the room, -was the irrepressible Gooseberry, perched on a chair, and looking -with breathless interest, over the heads of his elders, -at the Sergeant's proceedings. - -"He's pulling off his wig!" whispered Gooseberry, compassionating my position, -as the only person in the room who could see nothing. - -There was a pause--and then a cry of astonishment among the people -round the bed. - -"He's pulled off his beard!" cried Gooseberry. - -There was another pause--Sergeant Cuff asked for something. -The landlord went to the wash-hand-stand, and returned to the bed -with a basin of water and a towel. - -Gooseberry danced with excitement on the chair. "Come up here, -along with me, sir! He's washing off his complexion now!" - -The Sergeant suddenly burst his way through the people about him, -and came, with horror in his face, straight to the place where I -was standing. - -"Come back to the bed, sir!" he began. He looked at me closer, -and checked himself "No!" he resumed. "Open the sealed letter first-- -the letter I gave you this morning." - -I opened the letter. - -"Read the name, Mr. Blake, that I have written inside." - -I read the name that he had written. It was GODFREY ABLEWHITE. - -"Now," said the Sergeant, "come with me, and look at the man on the bed." - -I went with him, and looked at the man on the bed. - -GODFREY ABLEWHITE! - - - - SIXTH NARRATIVE - - Contributed by SERGEANT CUFF - -I - - -Dorking, Surrey, July 30th, 1849. To Franklin Blake, Esq. Sir,-- -I beg to apologise for the delay that has occurred in the production -of the Report, with which I engaged to furnish you. I have waited -to make it a complete Report; and I have been met, here and there, -by obstacles which it was only possible to remove by some little -expenditure of patience and time. - -The object which I proposed to myself has now, I hope, been attained. -You will find, in these pages, answers to the greater part--if not all-- -of the questions, concerning the late Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, which occurred to -your mind when I last had the honour of seeing you. - -I propose to tell you--in the first place--what is known of the manner -in which your cousin met his death; appending to the statement such -inferences and conclusions as we are justified (according to my opinion) -in drawing from the facts. - -I shall then endeavour--in the second place--to put you in possession -of such discoveries as I have made, respecting the proceedings -of Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, before, during, and after the time, -when you and he met as guests at the late Lady Verinder's country-house. - - - -II - - -As to your cousin's death, then, first. - -It appears to be established, beyond any reasonable doubt, -that he was killed (while he was asleep, or immediately on -his waking) by being smothered with a pillow from his bed-- -that the persons guilty of murdering him are the three Indians-- -and that the object contemplated (and achieved) by the crime, -was to obtain possession of the diamond, called the Moonstone. - -The facts from which this conclusion is drawn, are derived -partly from an examination of the room at the tavern; -and partly from the evidence obtained at the Coroner's Inquest. - -On forcing the door of the room, the deceased gentleman was discovered, dead, -with the pillow of the bed over his face. The medical man who examined him, -being informed of this circumstance, considered the post-mortem appearances -as being perfectly compatible with murder by smothering--that is to say, -with murder committed by some person, or persons, pressing the pillow over -the nose and mouth of the deceased, until death resulted from congestion -of the lungs. - -Next, as to the motive for the crime. - -A small box, with a sealed paper torn off from it (the paper containing -an inscription) was found open, and empty, on a table in the room. -Mr. Luker has himself personally identified the box, the seal, -and the inscription. He has declared that the box did actually contain -the diamond, called the Moonstone; and he has admitted having given -the box (thus sealed up) to Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite (then concealed -under a disguise), on the afternoon of the twenty-sixth of June last. -The fair inference from all this is, that the stealing of the Moonstone -was the motive of the crime. - -Next, as to the manner in which the crime was committed. - -On examination of the room (which is only seven feet high), a trap-door -in the ceiling, leading out on to the roof of the house, was discovered open. -The short ladder, used for obtaining access to the trap-door -(and kept under the bed), was found placed at the opening, so as to -enable any person or persons, in the room, to leave it again easily. -In the trap-door itself was found a square aperture cut in the wood, -apparently with some exceedingly sharp instrument, just behind the bolt -which fastened the door on the inner side. In this way, any person -from the outside could have drawn back the bolt, and opened the door, -and have dropped (or have been noiselessly lowered by an accomplice) -into the room--its height, as already observed, being only seven feet. -That some person, or persons, must have got admission in this way, -appears evident from the fact of the aperture being there. -As to the manner in which he (or they) obtained access to the roof -of the tavern, it is to be remarked that the third house, lower down -in the street, was empty, and under repair--that a long ladder was left -by the workmen, leading from the pavement to the top of the house-- -and that, on returning to their work, on the morning of the 27th, -the men found the plank which they had tied to the ladder, to prevent -anyone from using it in their absence, removed, and lying on the ground. -As to the possibility of ascending by this ladder, passing over -the roofs of the houses, passing back, and descending again, unobserved-- -it is discovered, on the evidence of the night policeman, that he only -passes through Shore Lane twice in an hour, when out on his beat. -The testimony of the inhabitants also declares, that Shore Lane, -after midnight, is one of the quietest and loneliest streets in London. -Here again, therefore, it seems fair to infer that--with ordinary caution, -and presence of mind--any man, or men, might have ascended by the ladder, -and might have descended again, unobserved. Once on the roof of the tavern, -it has been proved, by experiment, that a man might cut through the trap-door, -while lying down on it, and that in such a position, the parapet in front -of the house would conceal him from the view of anyone passing in the -street. - -Lastly, as to the person, or persons, by whom the crime was committed. - -It is known (1) that the Indians had an interest in possessing -themselves of the Diamond. (2) It is at least probable -that the man looking like an Indian, whom Octavius Guy -saw at the window of the cab, speaking to the man dressed -like a mechanic, was one of the three Hindoo conspirators. -(3) It is certain that this same man dressed like a mechanic, -was seen keeping Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite in view, all through -the evening of the 26th, and was found in the bedroom -(before Mr. Ablewhite was shown into it) under circumstances -which lead to the suspicion that he was examining the room. -(4) A morsel of torn gold thread was picked up in the bedroom, -which persons expert in such matters, declare to be of -Indian manufacture, and to be a species of gold thread not -known in England. 5) On the morning of the 27th, three men, -answering to the description of the three Indians, were observed -in Lower Thames Street, were traced to the Tower Wharf, -and were seen to leave London by the steamer bound -for Rotterdam. - -There is here, moral, if not legal, evidence, that the murder was committed -by the Indians. - -Whether the man personating a mechanic was, or was not, -an accomplice in the crime, it is impossible to say. -That he could have committed the murder alone, seems beyond -the limits of probability. Acting by himself, he could hardly -have smothered Mr. Ablewhite--who was the taller and stronger man -of the two--without a struggle taking place, or a cry being heard. -A servant girl, sleeping in the next room, heard nothing. -The landlord, sleeping in the room below, heard nothing. -The whole evidence points to the inference that more than -one man was concerned in this crime--and the circumstances, -I repeat, morally justify the conclusion that the Indians -committed it. - -I have only to add, that the verdict at the Coroner's Inquest -was Wilful Murder against some person, or persons, unknown. -Mr. Ablewhite's family have offered a reward, and no effort -has been left untried to discover the guilty persons. -The man dressed like a mechanic has eluded all inquiries. -The Indians have been traced. As to the prospect of ultimately -capturing these last, I shall have a word to say to you on that head, -when I reach the end of the present Report. - -In the meanwhile, having now written all that is needful on the subject -of Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's death, I may pass next to the narrative -of his proceedings before, during, and after the time, when you -and he met at the late Lady Verinder's house. - - - -III - - -With regard to the subject now in hand, I may state, at the outset, -that Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's life had two sides to it. - -The side turned up to the public view, presented the spectacle of a gentleman, -possessed of considerable reputation as a speaker at charitable meetings, -and endowed with administrative abilities, which he placed at the disposal -of various Benevolent Societies, mostly of the female sort. The side kept -hidden from the general notice, exhibited this same gentleman in the totally -different character of a man of pleasure, with a villa in the suburbs which -was not taken in his own name, and with a lady in the villa, who was not taken -in his own name, either. - -My investigations in the villa have shown me several fine -pictures and statues; furniture tastefully selected, -and admirably made; and a conservatory of the rarest flowers, -the match of which it would not be easy to find in all London. -My investigation of the lady has resulted in the discovery -of jewels which are worthy to take rank with the flowers, -and of carriages and horses which have (deservedly) produced -a sensation in the Park, among persons well qualified to judge -of the build of the one, and the breed of the others. - -All this is, so far, common enough. The villa and the lady are such familiar -objects in London life, that I ought to apologise for introducing them -to notice. But what is not common and not familiar (in my experience), -is that all these fine things were not only ordered, but paid for. -The pictures, the statues, the flowers, the jewels, the carriages, -and the horses--inquiry proved, to my indescribable astonishment, -that not a sixpence of debt was owing on any of them. As to the villa, -it had been bought, out and out, and settled on the lady. - -I might have tried to find the right reading of this riddle, -and tried in vain--but for Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's death, -which caused an inquiry to be made into the state of his affairs. - -The inquiry elicited these facts:-- - -That Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite was entrusted with the care of a sum of -twenty thousand pounds--as one of two Trustees for a young gentleman, -who was still a minor in the year eighteen hundred and forty-eight. That -the Trust was to lapse, and that the young gentleman was to receive -the twenty thousand pounds on the day when he came of age, in the month -of February, eighteen hundred and fifty. That, pending the arrival -of this period, an income of six hundred pounds was to be paid to him -by his two Trustees, half-yearly--at Christmas and Midsummer Day. That this -income was regularly paid by the active Trustee, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. -That the twenty thousand pounds (from which the income was supposed -to be derived) had every farthing of it been sold out of the Funds, -at different periods, ending with the end of the year eighteen hundred -and forty-seven. That the power of attorney, authorising the bankers -to sell out the stock, and the various written orders telling them -what amounts to sell out, were formally signed by both the Trustees. -That the signature of the second Trustee (a retired army officer, living in -the country) was a signature forged, in every case, by the active Trustee-- -otherwise Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. - -In these facts lies the explanation of Mr. Godfrey's honourable conduct, -in paying the debts incurred for the lady and the villa--and (as you -will presently see) of more besides. - -We may now advance to the date of Miss Verinder's birthday -(in the year eighteen hundred and forty-eight)--the twenty-first -of June. - -On the day before, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite arrived at his father's house, -and asked (as I know from Mr. Ablewhite, senior, himself) for a loan -of three hundred pounds. Mark the sum; and remember at the same time, -that the half-yearly payment to the young gentleman was due on the -twenty-fourth of the month. Also, that the whole of the young gentleman's -fortune had been spent by his Trustee, by the end of the year 'forty-seven. - -Mr. Ablewhite, senior, refused to lend his son a farthing. - -The next day Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite rode over, with you, -to Lady Verinder's house. A few hours afterwards, Mr. Godfrey -(as you yourself have told me) made a proposal of marriage -to Miss Verinder. Here, he saw his way no doubt--if accepted-- -to the end of all his money anxieties, present and future. -But, as events actually turned out, what happened? Miss Verinder -refused him. - -On the night of the birthday, therefore, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite's pecuniary -position was this. He had three hundred pounds to find on the twenty-fourth -of the month, and twenty thousand pounds to find in February eighteen hundred -and fifty. Failing to raise these sums, at these times, he was a ruined man. - -Under those circumstances, what takes place next? - -You exasperate Mr. Candy, the doctor, on the sore subject of his profession; -and he plays you a practical joke, in return, with a dose of laudanum. -He trusts the administration of the dose, prepared in a little phial, -to Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite--who has himself confessed the share he had in -the matter, under circumstances which shall presently be related to you. -Mr. Godfrey is all the readier to enter into the conspiracy, having himself -suffered from your sharp tongue in the course of the evening. He joins -Betteredge in persuading you to drink a little brandy and water before you -go to bed. He privately drops the dose of laudanum into your cold grog. -And you drink the mixture. - -Let us now shift the scene, if you please to Mr. Luker's house at Lambeth. -And allow me to remark, by way of preface, that Mr. Bruff and I, together, -have found a means of forcing the money-lender to make a clean breast of it. -We have carefully sifted the statement he has addressed to us; and here it is -at your service. - - - -IV - - -Late on the evening of Friday, the twenty-third of June -('forty-eight), Mr. Luker was surprised by a visit -from Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. He was more than surprised, -when Mr. Godfrey produced the Moonstone. No such Diamond -(according to Mr. Luker's experience) was in the possession -of any private person in Europe. - -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite had two modest proposals to make, -in relation to this magnificent gem. First, Would Mr. Luker -be so good as to buy it? Secondly, Would Mr. Luker (in default -of seeing his way to the purchase) undertake to sell it -on commission, and to pay a sum down, on the anticipated result? - -Mr. Luker tested the Diamond, weighed the Diamond and estimated -the value of the Diamond, before he answered a word. HIS estimate -(allowing for the flaw in the stone) was thirty thousand pounds. - -Having reached that result, Mr. Luker opened his lips, and put a question: -"How did you come by this?" Only six words! But what volumes of meaning -in them! - -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite began a story. Mr. Luker opened his lips again, -and only said three words, this time. "That won't do!" - -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite began another story. Mr. Luker wasted no -more words on him. He got up, and rang the bell for the servant -to show the gentleman out. - -Upon this compulsion, Mr. Godfrey made an effort, and came out with a new -and amended version of the affair, to the following effect. - -After privately slipping the laudanum into your brandy and water, -he wished you good night, and went into his own room. It was the next -room to yours; and the two had a door of communication between them. -On entering his own room Mr. Godfrey (as he supposed) closed his door. -His money troubles kept him awake. He sat, in his dressing-gown and slippers, -for nearly an hour, thinking over his position. Just as he was preparing -to get into bed, he heard you, talking to yourself, in your own room, -and going to the door of communication, found that he had not shut it as -he supposed. - -He looked into your room to see what was the matter. -He discovered you with the candle in your hand, just leaving -your bed-chamber. He heard you say to yourself, in a voice -quite unlike your own voice, "How do I know? The Indians may -be hidden in the house." - -Up to that time, he had simply supposed himself (in giving you the laudanum) -to be helping to make you the victim of a harmless practical joke. -It now occurred to him, that the laudanum had taken some effect on you, -which had not been foreseen by the doctor, any more than by himself. -In the fear of an accident happening he followed you softly to see what you -would do. - -He followed you to Miss Verinder's sitting-room, and saw you go in. -You left the door open. He looked through the crevice thus produced, -between the door and the post, before he ventured into the room himself. - -In that position, he not only detected you in taking -the Diamond out of the drawer--he also detected Miss Verinder, -silently watching you from her bedroom, through her open door. -His own eyes satisfied him that SHE saw you take the Diamond, too. - -Before you left the sitting-room again, you hesitated a little. -Mr. Godfrey took advantage of this hesitation to get back -again to his bedroom before you came out, and discovered him. -He had barely got back, before you got back too. You saw him -(as he supposes) just as he was passing through the door -of communication. At any rate, you called to him in a strange, -drowsy voice. - -He came back to you. You looked at him in a dull sleepy way. -You put the Diamond into his hand. You said to him, -"Take it back, Godfrey, to your father's bank. It's safe there-- -it's not safe here." You turned away unsteadily, and put -on your dressing-gown. You sat down in the large arm-chair -in your room. You said, "I can't take it back to the bank. -My head's like lead--and I can't feel my feet under me." -Your head sank on the back of the chair--you heaved a heavy sigh-- -and you fell asleep. - -Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite went back, with the Diamond, into his own room. -His statement is, that he came to no conclusion, at that time-- -except that he would wait, and see what happened in the morning. - -When the morning came, your language and conduct showed that you -were absolutely ignorant of what you had said and done overnight. -At the same time, Miss Verinder's language and conduct showed -that she was resolved to say nothing (in mercy to you) on her side. -If Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite chose to keep the Diamond, he might do so -with perfect impunity. The Moonstone stood between him and ruin. -He put the Moonstone into his pocket. - - - -V - - -This was the story told by your cousin (under pressure of necessity) -to Mr. Luker. - -Mr. Luker believed the story to be, as to all main essentials, true--on this -ground, that Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite was too great a fool to have invented it. -Mr. Bruff and I agree with Mr. Luker, in considering this test of the truth -of the story to be a perfectly reliable one. - -The next question, was the question of what Mr. Luker would do -in the matter of the Moonstone. He proposed the following terms, -as the only terms on which he would consent to mix himself -up with, what was (even in HIS line of business) a doubtful -and dangerous transaction. - -Mr. Luker would consent to lend Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite the sum -of two thousand pounds, on condition that the Moonstone was -to be deposited with him as a pledge. If, at the expiration -of one year from that date, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite paid three -thousand pounds to Mr. Luker, he was to receive back the Diamond, -as a pledge redeemed. If he failed to produce the money at -the expiration of the year, the pledge (otherwise the Moonstone) -was to be considered as forfeited to Mr. Luker--who would, -in this latter case, generously make Mr. Godfrey a present -of certain promissory notes of his (relating to former dealings) -which were then in the money-lender's possession. - -It is needless to say, that Mr. Godfrey indignantly refused -to listen to these monstrous terms. Mr. Luker thereupon, -handed him back the Diamond, and wished him good night. - -Your cousin went to the door, and came back again. How was he to be sure -that the conversation of that evening would be kept strictly secret between -his friend and himself? - -Mr. Luker didn't profess to know how. If Mr. Godfrey had accepted -his terms, Mr. Godfrey would have made him an accomplice, -and might have counted on his silence as on a certainty. -As things were, Mr. Luker must be guided by his own interests. -If awkward inquiries were made, how could be he expected to -compromise himself, for the sake of a man who had declined to deal -with him? - -Receiving this reply, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite did, what all animals -(human and otherwise) do, when they find themselves caught in a trap. -He looked about him in a state of helpless despair. The day of the month, -recorded on a neat little card in a box on the money-lender's chimney-piece, -happened to attract his eye. It was the twenty-third of June. -On the twenty-fourth he had three hundred pounds to pay to the young -gentleman for whom he was trustee, and no chance of raising the money, -except the chance that Mr. Luker had offered to him. But for this -miserable obstacle, he might have taken the Diamond to Amsterdam, and have -made a marketable commodity of it, by having it cut up into separate stones. -As matters stood, he had no choice but to accept Mr. Luker's terms. -After all, he had a year at his disposal, in which to raise the three -thousand pounds--and a year is a long time. - -Mr. Luker drew out the necessary documents on the spot. -When they were signed, he gave Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite -two cheques. One, dated June 23rd, for three hundred pounds. -Another, dated a week on, for the remaining balance seventeen -hundred pounds. - -How the Moonstone was trusted to the keeping of Mr Luker's bankers, -and how the Indians treated Mr. Luker and Mr. Godfrey (after that had -been done) you know already. - -The next event in your cousin's life refers again to Miss Verinder. -He proposed marriage to her for the second time--and (after having -being accepted) he consented, at her request, to consider the marriage -as broken off. One of his reasons for making this concession has been -penetrated by Mr. Bruff. Miss Verinder had only a life interest in her -mother's property--and there was no raising the twenty thousand pounds -on THAT. - -But you will say, he might have saved the three thousand pounds, -to redeem the pledged Diamond, if he had married. -He might have done so certainly--supposing neither his wife, -nor her guardians and trustees, objected to his anticipating -more than half of the income at his disposal, for some -unknown purpose, in the first year of his marriage. -But even if he got over this obstacle, there was another -waiting for him in the background. The lady at the Villa, -had heard of his contemplated marriage. A superb woman, -Mr. Blake, of the sort that are not to be triffled with-- -the sort with the light complexion and the Roman nose. -She felt the utmost contempt for Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. -It would be silent contempt, if he made a handsome provision -for her. Otherwise, it would be contempt with a tongue to it. -Miss Verinder's life interest allowed him no more hope of raising -the "provision" than of raising the twenty thousand pounds. -He couldn't marry--he really couldn't marry, under all the -circumstances. - -How he tried his luck again with another lady, and how THAT marriage -also broke down on the question of money, you know already. -You also know of the legacy of five thousand pounds, left to him -shortly afterwards, by one of those many admirers among the soft -sex whose good graces this fascinating man had contrived to win. -That legacy (as the event has proved) led him to his death. - -I have ascertained that when he went abroad, on getting his five -thousand pounds, he went to Amsterdam. There he made all the necessary -arrangements for having the Diamond cut into separate stones. He came back -(in disguise), and redeemed the Moonstone, on the appointed day. -A few days were allowed to elapse (as a precaution agreed to by -both parties) before the jewel was actually taken out of the bank. -If he had got safe with it to Amsterdam, there would have been just time -between July 'forty-nine, and February 'fifty (when the young gentleman -came of age) to cut the Diamond, and to make a marketable commodity -(polished or unpolished) of the separate stones. Judge from this, -what motives he had to run the risk which he actually ran. -It was "neck or nothing" with him--if ever it was "neck or nothing" with a -man yet. - -I have only to remind you, before closing this Report, that there is a chance -of laying hands on the Indians, and of recovering the Moonstone yet. -They are now (there is every reason to believe) on their passage to Bombay, -in an East Indiaman. The ship (barring accidents) will touch at no other -port on her way out; and the authorities at Bombay (already communicated -with by letter, overland) will be prepared to board the vessel, the moment she -enters the harbour. - -I have the honour to remain, dear sir, your obedient servant, -RICHARD CUFF (late sergeant in the Detective Force, Scotland Yard, -London).* - - -* NOTE.--Wherever the Report touches on the events of the birthday, -or of the three days that followed it, compare with Betteredge's Narrative, -chapters viii. to xiii. - - - - SEVENTH NARRATIVE - - In a Letter from MR. CANDY - - -Frizinghall, Wednesday, September 26th, 1849.--Dear Mr. Franklin Blake, -you will anticipate the sad news I have to tell you, on finding your -letter to Ezra Jennings returned to you, unopened, in this enclosure. -He died in my arms, at sunrise, on Wednesday last. - -I am not to blame for having failed to warn you that his end -was at hand. He expressly forbade me to write to you. -"I am indebted to Mr. Franklin Blake," he said, "for having -seen some happy days. Don't distress him, Mr. Candy-- -don't distress him." - -His sufferings, up to the last six hours of his life, were terrible -to see. In the intervals of remission, when his mind was clear, -I entreated him to tell me of any relatives of his to whom I -might write. He asked to be forgiven for refusing anything to me. -And then he said--not bitterly--that he would die as he had lived, -forgotten and unknown. He maintained that resolution to the last. -There is no hope now of making any discoveries concerning him. His story -is a blank. - -The day before he died, he told me where to find all his papers. -I brought them to him on his bed. There was a little -bundle of old letters which he put aside. There was his -unfinished book. There was his Diary--in many locked volumes. -He opened the volume for this year, and tore out, one by one, -the pages relating to the time when you and he were together. -"Give those," he said, "to Mr. Franklin Blake. In years to come, -he may feel an interest in looking back at what is written there." -Then he clasped his hands, and prayed God fervently to bless you, -and those dear to you. He said he should like to see you again. -But the next moment he altered his mind. "No," he answered -when I offered to write. "I won't distress him! I won't -distress him!" - -At his request I next collected the other papers--that is to say, -the bundle of letters, the unfinished book and the volumes of the Diary-- -and enclosed them all in one wrapper, sealed with my own seal. -"Promise," he said, "that you will put this into my coffin with -your own hand; and that you will see that no other hand touches -it afterwards." - -I gave him my promise. And the promise has been performed. - -He asked me to do one other thing for him--which it cost me a hard -struggle to comply with. He said, "Let my grave be forgotten. -Give me your word of honour that you will allow no monument of any sort-- -not even the commonest tombstone--to mark the place of my burial. -Let me sleep, nameless. Let me rest, unknown." When I tried to plead -with him to alter his resolution, he became for the first, and only time, -violently agitated. I could not bear to see it; and I gave way. -Nothing but a little grass mound marks the place of his rest. -In time, the tombstones will rise round it. And the people who come -after us will look and wonder at the nameless grave. - -As I have told you, for six hours before his death his -sufferings ceased. He dozed a little. I think he dreamed. -Once or twice he smiled. A woman's name, as I suppose-- -the name of "Ella"--was often on his lips at this time. -A few minutes before the end he asked me to lift him on his pillow, -to see the sun rise through the window. He was very weak. -His head fell on my shoulder. He whispered, "It's coming!" -Then he said, "Kiss me!" I kissed his forehead. -On a sudden he lifted his head. The sunlight touched his face. -A beautiful expression, an angelic expression, came over it. -He cried out three times, "Peace! peace! peace!" His head sank -back again on my shoulder, and the long trouble of his life was at -an end. - -So he has gone from us. This was, as I think, a great man-- -though the world never knew him. He had the sweetest temper I -have ever met with. The loss of him makes me feel very lonely. -Perhaps I have never been quite myself since my illness. -Sometimes, I think of giving up my practice, and going away, -and trying what some of the foreign baths and waters will do -for me. - -It is reported here, that you and Miss Verinder are to be married next month. -Please to accept my best congratulations. - -The pages of my poor friend's Journal are waiting for you at my house-- -sealed up, with your name on the wrapper. I was afraid to trust them to -the post. - -My best respects and good wishes attend Miss Verinder. -I remain, dear Mr. Franklin Blake, truly yours, - -THOMAS CANDY. - - - - EIGHTH NARRATIVE - - Contributed by GABRIEL BETTEREDGE - - -I am the person (as you remember no doubt) who led the way in these pages, -and opened the story. I am also the person who is left behind, as it were, -to close the story up. - -Let nobody suppose that I have any last words to say here -concerning the Indian Diamond. I hold that unlucky jewel -in abhorrence--and I refer you to other authority than mine, -for such news of the Moonstone as you may, at the present time, -be expected to receive. My purpose, in this place, is to state -a fact in the history of the family, which has been passed -over by everybody, and which I won't allow to be disrespectfully -smothered up in that way. The fact to which I allude is-- -the marriage of Miss Rachel and Mr. Franklin Blake. -This interesting event took place at our house in Yorkshire, -on Tuesday, October ninth, eighteen hundred and forty-nine. I -had a new suit of clothes on the occasion. And the married -couple went to spend the honeymoon in Scotland. - -Family festivals having been rare enough at our house, since my poor -mistress's death, I own--on this occasion of the wedding--to having -(towards the latter part of the day) taken a drop too much on the strength -of it. - -If you have ever done the same sort of thing yourself you will understand -and feel for me. If you have not, you will very likely say, "Disgusting old -man! why does he tell us this?" The reason why is now to come. - -Having, then, taken my drop (bless you! you have got your favourite vice, too; -only your vice isn't mine, and mine isn't yours), I next applied the one -infallible remedy--that remedy being, as you know, ROBINSON CRUSOE. -Where I opened that unrivalled book, I can't say. Where the lines of print -at last left off running into each other, I know, however, perfectly well. -It was at page three hundred and eighteen--a domestic bit concerning Robinson -Crusoe's marriage, as follows: - -"With those Thoughts, I considered my new Engagement, that I -had a Wife "--(Observe! so had Mr. Franklin!)--"one Child -born"--(Observe again! that might yet be Mr. Franklin's case, -too!)--"and my Wife then"--What Robinson Crusoe's wife did, -or did not do, "then," I felt no desire to discover. -I scored the bit about the Child with my pencil, and put a morsel -of paper for a mark to keep the place; "Lie you there," I said, -"till the marriage of Mr. Franklin and Miss Rachel is some -months older--and then we'll see!" - -The months passed (more than I had bargained for), and no -occasion presented itself for disturbing that mark in the book. -It was not till this present month of November, eighteen hundred -and fifty, that Mr. Franklin came into my room, in high good spirits, -and said, "Betteredge! I have got some news for you! -Something is going to happen in the house, before we are many -months older." - -"Does it concern the family, sir?" I asked. - -"It decidedly concerns the family," says Mr. Franklin. -"Has your good lady anything to do with it, if you please, sir?" - -"She has a great deal to do with it," says Mr. Franklin, -beginning to look a little surprised. - -"You needn't say a word more, sir," I answered. "God bless you both! -I'm heartily glad to hear it." - -Mr. Franklin stared like a person thunderstruck. -"May I venture to inquire where you got your information?" -he asked. "I only got mine (imparted in the strictest secrecy) -five minutes since." - -Here was an opportunity of producing ROBINSON CRUSOE! -Here was a chance of reading that domestic bit about the child -which I had marked on the day of Mr. Franklin's marriage! -I read those miraculous words with an emphasis which did them justice, -and then I looked him severely in the face. "NOW, sir, -do you believe in ROBINSON CRUSOE?" I asked, with a solemnity, -suitable to the occasion. - -"Betteredge!" says Mr. Franklin, with equal solemnity, "I'm convinced -at last." He shook hands with me--and I felt that I had converted him. - -With the relation of this extraordinary circumstance, -my reappearance in these pages comes to an end. Let nobody -laugh at the unique anecdote here related. You are welcome -to be as merry as you please over everything else I have written. -But when I write of ROBINSON CRUSOE, by the Lord it's serious-- -and I request you to take it accordingly! - -When this is said, all is said. Ladies and gentlemen, I make my bow, -and shut up the story. - - - - EPILOGUE - - THE FINDING OF THE DIAMOND - -I - -The Statement of SERGEANT CLIFF'S MAN (1849) - - -On the twenty-seventh of June last, I received instructions from Sergeant -Cuff to follow three men; suspected of murder, and described as Indians. -They had been seen on the Tower Wharf that morning, embarking on board -the steamer bound for Rotterdam. - -I left London by a steamer belonging to another company, which sailed -on the morning of Thursday the twenty-eighth. Arriving at Rotterdam, -I succeeded in finding the commander of the Wednesday's steamer. -He informed me that the Indians had certainly been passengers on -board his vessel--but as far as Gravesend only. Off that place, -one of the three had inquired at what time they would reach Calais. -On being informed that the steamer was bound to Rotterdam, -the spokesman of the party expressed the greatest surprise and -distress at the mistake which he and his two friends had made. -They were all willing (he said) to sacrifice their passage money, -if the commander of the steamer would only put them ashore. -Commiserating their position, as foreigners in a strange land, and knowing -no reason for detaining them, the commander signalled for a shore boat, -and the three men left the vessel. - -This proceeding of the Indians having been plainly resolved on beforehand, -as a means of preventing their being traced, I lost no time in returning -to England. I left the steamer at Gravesend, and discovered that the Indians -had gone from that place to London. Thence, I again traced them as having -left for Plymouth. Inquiries made at Plymouth proved that they had sailed, -forty-eight hours previously, in the BEWLEY CASTLE, East Indiaman, -bound direct to Bombay. - -On receiving this intelligence, Sergeant Cuff caused the authorities -at Bombay to be communicated with, overland--so that the vessel -might be boarded by the police immediately on her entering the port. -This step having been taken, my connection with the matter came to an end. -I have heard nothing more of it since that time. - - - -II - -The Statement of THE CAPTAIN (1849) - - -I am requested by Sergeant Cuff to set in writing certain facts, -concerning three men (believed to be Hindoos) who were passengers, -last summer, in the ship BEWLEY CATSLE, bound for Bombay direct, -under my command. - -The Hindoos joined us at Plymouth. On the passage out I heard no complaint -of their conduct. They were berthed in the forward part of the vessel. -I had but few occasions myself of personally noticing them. - -In the latter part of the voyage, we had the misfortune -to be becalmed for three days and nights, off the coast -of India. I have not got the ship's journal to refer to, -and I cannot now call to mind the latitude and longitude. -As to our position, therefore, I am only able to state -generally that the currents drifted us in towards the land, -and that when the wind found us again, we reached our port in -twenty-four hours afterwards. - -The discipline of a ship (as all seafaring persons know) -becomes relaxed in a long calm. The discipline of my ship -became relaxed. Certain gentlemen among the passengers got some -of the smaller boats lowered, and amused themselves by rowing about, -and swimming, when the sun at evening time was cool enough -to let them divert themselves in that way. The boats when done -with ought to have been slung up again in their places. -Instead of this they were left moored to the ship's side. -What with the heat, and what with the vexation of the weather, -neither officers nor men seemed to be in heart for their duty while -the calm lasted. - -On the third night, nothing unusual was heard or seen by the watch on deck. -When the morning came, the smallest of the boats was missing--and the three -Hindoos were next reported to be missing, too. - -If these men had stolen the boat shortly after dark (which I have -no doubt they did), we were near enough to the land to make it vain -to send in pursuit of them, when the discovery was made in the morning. -I have no doubt they got ashore, in that calm weather (making all due -allowance for fatigue and clumsy rowing), before day-break. - -On reaching our port I there learnt, for the first time, -the reason these passengers had for seizing their opportunity -of escaping from the ship. I could only make the same statement -to the authorities which I have made here. They considered me -to blame for allowing the discipline of the vessel to be relaxed. -I have expressed my regret on this score to them, and to -my owners. - -Since that time, nothing has been heard to my knowledge of the three Hindoos. -I have no more to add to what is here written. - - - -III - -The Statement of MR. MURTHWAITE (1850) - -(In a letter to MR. BRUFF) - - -Have you any recollection, my dear sir, of a semi-savage person whom -you met out at dinner, in London, in the autumn of 'forty-eight? -Permit me to remind you that the person's name was Murthwaite, -and that you and he had a long conversation together after dinner. -The talk related to an Indian Diamond, called the Moonstone, -and to a conspiracy then in existence to get possession of the gem. - -Since that time, I have been wandering in Central Asia. -Thence I have drifted back to the scene of some of my past -adventures in the north and north-west of India. About a -fortnight since, I found myself in a certain district or province -(but little known to Europeans) called Kattiawar. - -Here an adventure befel me, in which (incredible as it may appear) -you are personally interested. - -In the wild regions of Kattiawar (and how wild they are, you will understand, -when I tell you that even the husbandmen plough the land, armed to the -teeth), the population is fanatically devoted to the old Hindoo religion-- -to the ancient worship of Bramah and Vishnu. The few Mahometan families, -thinly scattered about the villages in the interior, are afraid to taste -meat of any kind. A Mahometan even suspected of killing that sacred animal, -the cow, is, as a matter of course, put to death without mercy in these parts -by the pious Hindoo neighbours who surround him. To strengthen the religious -enthusiasm of the people, two of the most famous shrines of Hindoo pilgrimage -are contained within the boundaries of Kattiawar. One of them is Dwarka, -the birthplace of the god Krishna. The other is the sacred city -of Somnauth--sacked, and destroyed as long since as the eleventh century, -by the Mahometan conqueror, Mahmoud of Ghizni. - -Finding myself, for the second time, in these romantic regions, -I resolved not to leave Kattiawar, without looking once more on -the magnificent desolation of Somnauth. At the place where I -planned to do this, I was (as nearly as I could calculate it) -some three days distant, journeying on foot, from the sacred city. - -I had not been long on the road, before I noticed that other people-- -by twos and threes--appeared to be travelling in the same direction -as myself. - -To such of these as spoke to me, I gave myself out as a Hindoo-Boodhist, -from a distant province, bound on a pilgrimage. It is needless to say -that my dress was of the sort to carry out this description. Add, that I -know the language as well as I know my own, and that I am lean enough -and brown enough to make it no easy matter to detect my European origin-- -and you will understand that I passed muster with the people readily: -not as one of themselves, but as a stranger from a distant part of their -own country. - -On the second day, the number of Hindoos travelling in my direction -had increased to fifties and hundreds. On the third day, the throng -had swollen to thousands; all slowly converging to one point-- -the city of Somnauth. - -A trifling service which I was able to render to one of my -fellow-pilgrims, during the third day's journey, proved the means -of introducing me to certain Hindoos of the higher caste. -From these men I learnt that the multitude was on its way -to a great religious ceremony, which was to take place on a hill -at a little distance from Somnauth. The ceremony was in honour -of the god of the Moon; and it was to be held at night. - -The crowd detained us as we drew near to the place of celebration. -By the time we reached the hill the moon was high in the heaven. -My Hindoo friends possessed some special privileges which enabled them -to gain access to the shrine. They kindly allowed me to accompany them. -When we arrived at the place, we found the shrine hidden from our view -by a curtain hung between two magnificent trees. Beneath the trees a flat -projection of rock jutted out, and formed a species of natural platform. -Below this, I stood, in company with my Hindoo friends. - -Looking back down the hill, the view presented the grandest -spectacle of Nature and Man, in combination, that I have ever seen. -The lower slopes of the eminence melted imperceptibly into -a grassy plain, the place of the meeting of three rivers. -On one side, the graceful winding of the waters stretched away, -now visible, now hidden by trees, as far as the eye could see. -On the other, the waveless ocean slept in the calm of the night. -People this lovely scene with tens of thousands of human creatures, -all dressed in white, stretching down the sides of the hill, -overflowing into the plain, and fringing the nearer banks -of the winding rivers. Light this halt of the pilgrims -by the wild red flames of cressets and torches, streaming up -at intervals from every part of the innumerable throng. -Imagine the moonlight of the East, pouring in unclouded -glory over all--and you will form some idea of the view -that met me when I looked forth from the summit of -the hill. - -A strain of plaintive music, played on stringed instruments, -and flutes, recalled my attention to the hidden shrine. - -I turned, and saw on the rocky platform the figures of three men. -In the central figure of the three I recognised the man to whom I -had spoken in England, when the Indians appeared on the terrace at -Lady Verinder's house. The other two who had been his companions on -that occasion were no doubt his companions also on this. - -One of the spectators, near whom I was standing, saw me start. -In a whisper, he explained to me the apparition of the three -figures on the platform of rock. - -They were Brahmins (he said) who had forfeited their caste -in the service of the god. The god had commanded that their -purification should be the purification by pilgrimage. On that night, -the three men were to part. In three separate directions, -they were to set forth as pilgrims to the shrines of India. -Never more were they to look on each other's faces. -Never more were they to rest on their wanderings, from the day -which witnessed their separation, to the day which witnessed -their death. - -As those words were whispered to me, the plaintive music ceased. -The three men prostrated themselves on the rock, before the curtain -which hid the shrine. They rose--they looked on one another-- -they embraced. Then they descended separately among the people. -The people made way for them in dead silence. In three different -directions I saw the crowd part, at one and the same moment. -Slowly the grand white mass of the people closed together again. -The track of the doomed men through the ranks of their fellow mortals -was obliterated. We saw them no more. - -A new strain of music, loud and jubilant, rose from the hidden shrine. -The crowd around me shuddered, and pressed together. - -The curtain between the trees was drawn aside, and the shrine was disclosed -to view. - -There, raised high on a throne--seated on his typical antelope, -with his four arms stretching towards the four corners of the earth-- -there, soared above us, dark and awful in the mystic light of heaven, -the god of the Moon. And there, in the forehead of the deity, -gleamed the yellow Diamond, whose splendour had last shone on me -in England, from the bosom of a woman's dress! - -Yes! after the lapse of eight centuries, the Moonstone looks forth once more, -over the walls of the sacred city in which its story first began. -How it has found its way back to its wild native land--by what accident, -or by what crime, the Indians regained possession of their sacred gem, -may be in your knowledge, but is not in mine. You have lost sight of it -in England, and (if I know anything of this people) you have lost sight of it -for ever. - -So the years pass, and repeat each other; so the same events revolve -in the cycles of time. What will be the next adventures of the Moonstone? -Who can tell? - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Moonstone - - |