PART ONE

The Loss Of The Diamond

THE EVENTS TOLD BY GABRIEL BETTEREDGE,

HEAD SERVANT OF LADY JULIA VERINDER

Chapter one

A Record of the Facts

This morning (May 21st 1850), my lady's nephew, Mr Franklin

Blake, said to me: 'Betteredge, I've seen Mr Bruff, our lawyer, and we
talked about the loss of the diamond two years ago. He thinks a complete
record of the facts ought to be put down in writing. And I agree with him.
The story should be told and I believe we've found a way to do it. Everyone
will tell their part of the story in turn, beginning at the beginning. I have a
letter telling how my uncle got hold of the diamond in India. Next we must
tell how the stone reached my aunt's house in Yorkshire two years ago; and
then, of course, how it was lost twelve hours after it was given to Rachel.
Nobody knows more than you, dear Betteredge, about what went on in the
house during that time. So your narrative must be the first.'

I have a clear memory for a man of over seventy. However, I did

what you probably would have done: I modestly declared that I was
incapable of such a task. But young Mr Franklin insisted, and here I am at
my desk two hours later, realizing I may have bitten off more than I can
chew. Oh, well, here goes...

I worked for Lord Herncastle, and after he died, when Miss Julia,
his youngest daughter, married Sir John Verinder, I came with her to Sir
John's house here in Yorkshire. I married a local girl, but five years later she
died, poor soul, leaving me with my little girl, Penelope. Soon afterwards,

Sir John died and my lady was left with her only child, Miss Rachel.
My lady made sure that Penelope was educated, and when she was old
enough she became Miss Rachel's maid.

My lady promoted me. I became manager of her farms in Yorkshire

and carried on this work until, on Christmas Day 1847, my lady invited me
to tea. 'Gabriel,' she said, 'It is time to work less. From today you will give
up the outdoor work and simply look after the servants here in the house.' I
protested, but looking out over the cold grey hills I knew she was right.
 CHAPTER TWO

Three Indian Man

I shall begin with the morning of 24th May 1848. My lady called me
into her sitting-room. 'My nephew, Franklin Blake, has returned from
abroad,' she said. 'He is coming to stay until Rachel's birthday next month.
He will arrive tomorrow.' I calculated he was twenty-five years old. I hadn't
seen him since he was a boy - the nicest little boy I've ever known. The fun
he and Rachel had playing together! He'd gone abroad, to schools in
Germany, Italy and France, and had then wandered around Europe, no
doubt borrowing everywhere he went (I remembered he still owed me a
halfpenny). He spent money like water - probably on those continental
women he mentioned to me in a letter once. His yearly allowance of seven
hundred pounds disappeared in an instant!

Next morning, my lady and Miss Rachel, expecting Mr Franklin at

dinner time, drove out to lunch with friends. I inspected our guest's
bedroom, left a bottle of wine to warm in the soft summer air, and was
about to sit down outside in my favourite chair when I heard a sound like a
drum. I went round to the front of the house. Three dark-skinned Indian
men in white coats, each with a drum, were looking at the house. Behind
them stood a small English boy. One of them, a man of most elegant
manners, told me in excellent English that they were travelling magicians.
He asked permission to perform tricks to my lady. I said she was out and
ordered them to leave. The man bowed beautifully and they left. I returned
to my chair until Penelope woke me, excited, saying the Indians were
planning to do some kind of harm to Mr Franklin. She was in the garden
when they left. On the road, thinking they were unseen, one of them had
poured ink into the boy's hand and made signs over his head. 'Can you see
the Englishman from abroad?' the Indian asked him. 'I see him,' said the
boy, staring at the ink. 'Has he got It with him?' asked the man. 'Yes,'
answered the boy. 'Will he come here tonight as he said?' asked another. 'I
can't see anymore,' said the boy, 'My mind is full of fog.' They made more
signs over the boy, woke him up, and walked off towards town.
Penelope was sick with worry. 'Father, what does It mean?'

'We'll ask Mr Franklin when he comes,' I replied.

 CHAPTER THREE

The Will

I was nearly asleep again when Nancy, the kitchen maid, rushed out,
bumping into my chair. 'I'm sorry sir,' she said, 'But Rosanna's late for
dinner again. She fainted again this morning, and asked to go out for some
air. She'll be at the Shivering Sand, no doubt.' I had a kind of pity for
Rosanna so I decided to fetch her myself.

Four months before, in London, my lady had visited a home for

women who had just been released from prison. She met Rosanna
Spearman, who had been a thief, an extremely plain-looking girl with a
deformed shoulder. The Director recommended her, saying she deserved a
second chance. A week later, she began as our second housemaid.

Only my lady, Miss Rachel and I knew about her past, and Rosanna
was grateful for our trust in her. She was hard-working and polite, but the
servants didn't like her silent, lonely ways. They thought she thought she
was superior to them.

Our house is near the sea, with beautiful walks in all directions. But
a quarter of a mile away is an ugly, lonely little bay that has the most
horrible quicksand's. When the tide turns, something happens down under
the surface. The whole face of the quicksand begins to tremble. No boat
ever comes into that bay - even the birds seem to avoid it. Yet it was
Rosanna's favourite place.

When I arrived, I saw her sitting in the grey coat she wore to hide
her shoulder, looking out to sea. She was crying. I gave her my
handkerchief, sat down beside her, and asked her what was wrong. 'It's my
past, sir,' she said, drying her eyes. 'You must forget all that,' I said. She
took my hand and squeezed it. 'Why do you like this miserable place?' I
asked. 'A strange kind of magic seems to pull me here,' she replied.
'Sometimes I think my grave is waiting for me here. ' She put her hand on
my shoulder. 'Dear Mr Betteredge, I'm trying to deserve your trust, but
sometimes I feel there's no future for me here.' She pointed at the
quicksand. 'Look!' she said. The tide was turning. The whole face of the
sands was beginning to tremble. 'Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it terrible?' she
cried. 'Throw a stone in, sir. Watch the sand suck it down!'

I heard a voice shout, 'Betteredge!' Rosanna jumped up and looked

towards the woods behind us. I was astonished by the sudden change in her.
Her cheeks turned a beautiful red, her whole being seemed to brighten with
a kind of breathless surprise. I looked round and saw a handsome,
beautifully dressed young gentleman coming out of the trees. His smile
would have made even the quicksand smile. He sat down beside me, put his
arm around me and said, 'Dear old Betteredge, I owe you a halfpenny.' He
looked up at Rosanna, their eyes met and her cheeks went an even deeper
red. Seemingly confused, she turned and left us suddenly. It was very unlike
her. 'She's an odd one,' said Mr Franklin. 'Why on earth did she do that?' I
couldn't - then - offer any explanation for her behavior.

'Welcome back, Mr Franklin,' I said. He had changed, but he still

had the same bright, straightforward look in his eyes. 'I've a reason for
coming earlier than expected,' he said. 'I've been followed by a dark-
skinned man in London for the last few days. I took an early train to lose
him. Tell me about those Indians who came today.'

'How on earth do you know about them?' I asked.

'I saw Penelope. "My father will tell you all about the magicians,"
she said. She's pretty, Betteredge, and she says your edge is better than
ever!' His gay mood died away when I told him. Looking worried, he took a
small packet from his pocket. It means this,' he said. 'My wicked uncle's
famous diamond. He left it to Rachel in his will. My father, who is
managing his brother's affairs, gave it to me to bring here. The will states
that it must be given to her on her birthday.'

'Your father is managing his affairs!' I said. 'He hated him! So did
my lady. She forbade him to ever enter her house again.'

Let me explain. It became public knowledge that Colonel Herncastle

had got possession of the Moonstone in dishonest circumstances. When he
returned from India, he was avoided by everyone. For years he led a lonely
life, never showing the diamond to anyone. It was said that he was afraid it
would cost him his life. Almost two years ago, he came to my lady's house
in London, on the night of Miss Rachel's birthday. I was told a gentleman
wanted to see me. I left the party upstairs and met him in the hall. He was
old, wasted, but looked as wild and wicked as ever. 'Tell my sister,' he said,
'that I have come to wish my niece a happy birthday.' I went upstairs with
the message. Controlling her anger, my lady said coldly, 'Tell Colonel
Herncastle that Rachel is busy, and that I do not wish to see him.' When I
told the Colonel downstairs his grey eyes settled on me and he laughed
softly. 'Thank you, Betteredge,' he said. 'Never mind. I shall remember my
niece's birthday in the future.' He left without another word, and the next I
heard of him was that he had died, six months ago.

Mr Franklin tapped the packet. 'I have made some interesting

discoveries at Mr Bruff's office,' he said. 'An old family letter says that It
was the object of an ancient holy curse, and also the object of a promise by
three Hindu priests. If the Colonel knew this - and he almost certainly did -
was he deliberately trying to pass on the curse to the sister he hated, by
giving It to her innocent daughter?'

I couldn't understand my own alarm. Who, in this age of progress,

could believe that the peace of our English country house could be suddenly
ruined by an Indian diamond with a Hindu curse on it?

Mr Franklin read my thoughts. 'I noticed the man following me after

I took the stone out of the bank.' He looked around him suspiciously. 'You
must understand that the idea of chosen servants of an old Hindu
superstition waiting for years for the opportunity to get back their holy
stone is perfectly normal - in the Oriental way of thinking, that is. Their
religion has given them a different idea of patience to ours. The Colonel
knew this, and made clever arrangements to hide the stone during his
lifetime.' He lay down. 'I don't want to alarm my aunt unnecessarily,' he
said, staring up at the sky. 'Yet I feel she must be warned. If you were in my
place, Betteredge, what would you do?'

'Sir,' I said, 'Today is May 25th. The Colonel's will states that Miss
Rachel must be given the diamond on her birthday, June 21st. We have over
three weeks to wait and see what happens. Time will tell us what to do.
Until then, put the stone in the bank in Fritzinghall (our nearest town). Do it
now, before the ladies return.'

He jumped up and pulled me to my feet. 'Betteredge,' he said, 'you're

worth your weight in gold.' We returned to the house and he left for
Fritzinghall. I wondered whether I wasn't dreaming, the morning's events
had put me in such a spin.
 CHAPTER FOUR

A Shadow

When my lady and Miss Rachel returned in the afternoon, I told

them that Mr Franklin had arrived, but had had to go into Fritzinghall on
business. Shortly afterwards, Penelope told me she thought Rosanna had
fallen hopelessly in love with Mr Franklin. She was behaving strangely,
happy one minute, sad the next, and she kept asking questions about him.
She had written his name in her sewing box and taken a lot of trouble with
her hair, crying as she looked at her deformed shoulder in the mirror. I
almost laughed: a poor plain housemaid falling in love with a gentleman!

Mr Franklin returned shortly before dinner. I was relieved to hear

that he hadn't met the Indians and that the Moonstone was in the bank.

Penelope said Miss Rachel took an unusual amount of trouble with

her hair before dinner. A head servant never serves dinner - unfortunately,
as I was curious to know how they got on together after all these years.
Later, we heard them singing happily together with my lady at the piano.
Later still, I took whisky to Mr Franklin in the smoking-room. 'She's the
most charming girl I've seen since I came back to England,' he said.

Towards midnight, when Samuel (my second-in-command) and I

had locked up the house, I went out to get some air. The moon was full and
the air was still. I could hear the sea rolling in over the Shivering Sand.
Then I heard a sound, much closer, and saw a shadow disappear round the
corner of the house. I heard feet running away. But by the time I reached the
corner, whoever it was had disappeared. Samuel and I took guns, searched
the garden but found nothing. Returning, I saw something shining on the
ground. It was a small bottle of black ink.
 CHAPTER FIVE

Rivals

The next day I showed the bottle to Mr Franklin. 'They believe the
boy can see where eyes cannot see,' he said. He smiled. 'If he can see into
the bank, they won't trouble us here any longer.' Maybe the boy could see
through walls because they never came near the house again in the weeks
before Rachel's birthday. They simply remained in Fritzinghall, doing their
magician's trade.

On May 29th, Miss Rachel and Mr Franklin decided to make a

horrible smell and a great mess and spoil a door. Mr Franklin was an expert
on 'decorative painting', and had invented a special way of mixing paint.
Special substances were sent from London, the revolutionary paint was
mixed, and smelled so bad that it made even the dogs sneeze. The unlucky
door was Miss Rachel's sitting-room door. For days they were as busy as
bees, spoiling it with complicated designs, and the pleasure they took in
each other's company became obvious to everyone. There was no doubt that
Mr Franklin was in love. Miss Rachel's feelings, however, were not so
obvious. Some (such as Penelope) were sure they would marry. I doubted it.

Miss Rachel is the finest, most graceful of women. Dark, beautifully

shaped, she is a pleasure to the eyes. Although cheeky, playful and secretive
by nature, there is nothing false about her (I have never known her lie or
break her word). She has however, one fault. Many times I have heard my
lady say 'Rachel's worst enemy is herself!' Yes, I know few as devilishly
stubborn as her. She only ever goes one way - her own. Which brings me to
my opinion of her views about marriage.

My lady's sister married Mr Ablewhite, a banker, and they live near

Fritzinghall. On June 12th, an invitation to the birthday party was sent to
their son, Mr Godfrey Ablewhite, in London - the man I believed she loved.
Mr Godfrey, a lawyer, was taller and finer looking than Mr Franklin, and
most popular with the ladies, being well known for his tireless work as
president of several women's charities. The poor and homeless women of
England depended on him! And what a public speaker! I heard him perform
once at a charity meeting. Who could not give money to a man like this?

Mr Godfrey accepted the invitation. No doubt sensing the

competition, Mr Franklin tried everything to win Miss Rachel's hand. He
even gave up smoking - she hated the smell of his cigars. Without their
calming effect, he began to sleep badly. Penelope believed this sacrifice had
impressed Miss Rachel. Perhaps, but in her bedroom she had a photograph
of Mr Godfrey speaking at a charity meeting.

On June 16th Mr Franklin's chances got even worse (to my mind)

when a French lawyer visited the house. He had a heated conversation with
Mr Franklin and my lady. Apparently, Miss Rachel said some severe things
to Mr Franklin that evening, about people he knew on the Continent, about
a woman, and about a debt - that my lady had paid for him. The next day,
however, they seemed to be friends again, singing and joking as they
decorated the door. Penelope said Mr Franklin had made an offer - which
had been neither accepted nor refused.

On the 19th, Dr Candy came to see Rosanna. The poor girl had lost
her appetite, often showed signs of crying, was behaving most strangely,
and was always putting herself in Mr Franklin's way (he never even noticed
her, of course). My lady noticed the change. Trying to protect her, I said she
had problems with her health. Dr Candy said it was her nerves. My lady
suggested a change of air, work on one of our farms. Rosanna begged to be
allowed to stay.

On the 20th, a note from Mr Godfrey came from Fritzinghall, saying

he would come over the following afternoon. With it came a beautifully
decorated Chinese box for Miss Rachel. Mr Franklin had given her a plain
piece of jewellery worth only half as much.
 CHAPTER SIX

The Moonstone

June 21st, Rachel's birthday, was cloudy at dawn, but the sky soon
cleared. After breakfast, Mr Franklin and I met to discuss the Moonstone.
He was nervous and rather absent- minded, either because he was thinking
about Miss Rachel or perhaps because of his sleeplessness (he was still
determined not to smoke). We agreed that since nothing had happened there
was no reason to alarm my lady, and that he should remove the stone from
the bank after lunch and return, if possible, with Mr Godfrey. Afterwards,
he and Miss Rachel went back to decorating the door. All morning Penelope
mixed the paints, until, at three o'clock, they proudly declared it was
finished. It was not unpleasant to look at. It certainly looked better than it
smelled.

Mr Franklin rode to Fritzinghall and after giving directions for the

dinner, I sat down in my chair. I woke when he returned with Mr Godfrey.
The fine young lawyer greeted everyone most politely but, strangely, like
Mr Franklin, there was a sort of cloud over him.

I had a quick word with Mr Franklin in the hall. 'Have you got the
diamond, sir?' He nodded. 'Did you see any Indians?' He shook his head and
went into the living-room to see Miss Rachel. About half an hour later, I
heard screams coming from the room.

I knocked, went in, and saw Miss Rachel staring, fascinated, at the
diamond in her hand. 'Extraordinary, extraordinary!' exclaimed Mr Godfrey,
clapping his hands like an overgrown child. Mr Franklin was looking
anxiously at my lady who was reading her brother's will. She turned to me,
frowning. 'Come to my room in half an hour, Betteredge,' she said, and left
the room. 'Look, Gabriel!' cried Miss Rachel, flashing the jewel in the
sunlight. It was as large as a bird's egg, the colour of the harvest moon, a
deep yellow that sucked your eyes into it so you saw nothing else.
Curiously enough, as we stood admiring it, Mr Godfrey (his admiring eyes
on Miss Rachel) said, 'It's only mineral, my dear, just a piece of very hard
stone.'

Later, my lady told me that she had the blackest suspicions of the
Colonel's motives and had decided to get the Moonstone out of Rachel's
possession. I didn't tell her about the Indians.

Penelope came in as I was dressing for dinner. 'News for you,

father!' she said. 'I saw Miss Rachel and that nasty scheming ladies' charity
man go into the rose garden arm in arm, laughing, and come back walking
apart, with very long faces. He stopped her and said, "Do you want me to
stay - as if nothing had happened?" She turned on him. "Yes," she said,
"you've accepted my mother's invitation. Now, let's forget what happened,
Godfrey, please." She left him. He stood there, saying, "Annoying...
annoying..." Isn't it wonderful! I told you Mr Franklin's the man!' I heard
wheels outside - the first guests. I reached the hall just in time to welcome
Mr and Mrs Ablewhite.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

The Indians Return

Twenty-four guests sat down to dinner. I will mention only a few.

Miss Rachel, the queen of the evening, wore her wonderful birthday
present. Cleverly, Mr Franklin had fixed it to her dress with silver wire. On
her left sat Dr Candy, from Fritzinghall, a pleasant man, wise in his
medicine and fond of a joke. On her right sat the explorer Mr Murthwaite, a
tall quiet man with a watchful eye. He had spent years wandering about
India. After a long look at the diamond, he said, 'Miss Rachel, if you ever
go to India, don't take that with you - your life wouldn't be worth sixpence.'

As the meal went on I became sadly aware that the party lacked life.
Nobody had their usual appetite, there were often gaps in the talk, and even
old jokers like Dr Candy had nothing funny to say. Normally brilliant
conversationalists seemed almost dull - Mr Godfrey, for instance. He spent
the whole meal in serious discussion with Miss Clack, a distant cousin of
Miss Rachel's. She was one of his ladies' charity friends, a most religiously-
minded woman. However, I noticed she had a rather low-cut dress and a
fondness for champagne.

Not even Mr Franklin was able to brighten up the evening. On the

contrary! Having annoyed our local priest with his ideas on marriage, he
made Dr Candy angry with his views on medicine. The argument ended on
the subject of his sleepless nights. Dr Candy told him that his nerves were
out of order and that medicine could cure his sleep problems. Mr Franklin
replied that medicine was like a blind man in the dark. My lady wisely
interrupted them, and invited the ladies to leave the gentlemen over their
wine.

Shortly afterwards, as I was filling Mr Franklin's glass, I nearly

jumped out of my skin. It was the sound of a drum. The Indians had
returned! I ran outside, only to see my lady welcoming the three men and
the boy. And beside her stood Miss Rachel, with the diamond shining on
her dress! Immediately, Mr Franklin went and stood next to her, ready for
anything. Mr Murthwaite spoke to them in their language, his words
instantly wiping the smiles off their faces. They bowed to him in the most
polite and snaky way, and their chief, his dark skin now slightly grey, turned
to us and said, 'There will be no magic tonight.' Everyone except Mr
Murthwaite, Mr Franklin and myself went inside. I led the Indians to the
gates and they left. When I returned, Mr Murthwaite and Mr Franklin were
talking. 'Gabriel,' said Mr Franklin, 'Mr Murthwaite suspects that they are
priests. I've told him the story behind Rachel's present.'

'They're certainly not magicians,' said Mr Murthwaite. 'How you

escaped them so far, I can't imagine. You're lucky to be alive Mr Blake. Yes,
there can only be one reason for their presence here: to return the diamond
to the forehead of their god.'

'Priests!' I said. 'Murdering thieves, you mean!'

'They're only acting according to their religion,' he said. 'They've

seen the diamond now,' said Mr Franklin, 'Take it to Amsterdam tomorrow,'
said Murthwaite. 'Have it cut into several smaller ones. It will no longer be
the Moonstone, therefore no longer holy to its - to those who once owned
it.'

'What about tonight?' I asked. 'They may come back.'

'No, they won't risk that,' Murthwaite replied. 'But let your hunting
dogs loose in the garden just in case.' He and Mr Franklin went inside and I
sat down, sweating, wondering what to do. Penelope came out later with a
report from the drawing-room. Mr Murthwaite had fallen asleep. Mr
Franklin had deliberately annoyed Mr Godfrey by making fun of women's
charities. Dr Candy had mysteriously disappeared, mysteriously returned
and had a whispered conversation with Mr Godfrey. In about an hour they
would all be leaving.

I could hear distant thunder. I went out with two of the dogs and
made a final search of the garden. It was beginning to rain hard as I
returned. Dr Candy was the last guest to leave. I was concerned because his
carriage had no roof. He boasted that all doctors had skins like ducks and
drove away in the rain laughing at his joke.
 CHAPTER EIGHT

The Theft

When my lady had said goodnight to Mr Franklin and Mr Godfrey,

she looked hard at her brother's gift shining on her daughter's dress.
'Rachel,' she asked, 'where will you put your diamond tonight?' Rachel
thought. 'In my Indian cabinet, of course - the one with all the drawers.' Her
mother frowned. 'My dear, it has no lock on it.' Miss Rachel, happy, light-
headed, replied, 'But mamma, there are no thieves in the house.'

'Why not let me keep it tonight?' said my lady. Miss Rachel refused.
'Then come to me first thing tomorrow, Rachel,' said my lady, going
upstairs. Miss Rachel said goodnight next, simply shaking hands with Mr
Godfrey, but giving Mr Franklin an extraordinarily tender smile. I began, at
that moment, to believe that Penelope might be right after all.

'I'm going to let the dogs loose, tonight,' I told Mr Franklin as soon
as she was gone. 'We'll decide on what is to be done tomorrow morning,' he
said. He looked pale and tired. I advised him to take some whisky and water
to help him sleep. Mr Godfrey came over to say he agreed and tried, in the
friendliest way, to persuade him to drink something. Mr Franklin refused
politely and the two rivals went upstairs together. A minute later Mr
Franklin called down: 'Perhaps I will have that whisky.' Samuel went up
with the drink, I let the dogs loose, and when we had shut up the house, I
took my old bones up to bed and lay awake all night listening to the rain
and the wind outside.

At 8 a.m., Penelope rushed into the kitchen. 'Father, the diamond's

gone!' she screamed, and dragged me upstairs. Miss Rachel was standing as
white as a sheet beside her Indian cabinet, one of its drawers open, empty. 'I
saw Miss Rachel put the diamond in there last night!' Penelope cried.

'Is this true, miss?' I asked. With a look that was completely unlike
her, with a voice that didn't seem to be her own, she simply answered, 'The
diamond is gone!' and went into her bedroom and locked the door.
 My lady came in, stone-faced, knocked at Miss Rachel's door and
was let in. The two gentlemen rushed in. Mr Godfrey held up his hands in
helpless disbelief. Mr Franklin, however, showed himself to be more clear-
headed - perhaps because that night he had slept well for the first time since
he had given up smoking. He ordered us to search the room and knocked on
Miss Rachel's bedroom door. My lady came out. The door was immediately
shut behind her and locked from the inside. 'The loss of the diamond has
thrown Rachel into a state of shock,' she said. 'She won't speak about it, not
even to me.'

'We must call the police,' said Mr Franklin. 'They must arrest the
Indians immediately - if it's not already too late.' Seeing my lady's and Mr
Godfrey's surprise, he added, 'All I can say now is they certainly have the
diamond. I'll ride to Fritzinghall immediately.' I hurried out after him and
asked how the Indians could have got into the house. 'One may have got in
while the guests were leaving,' he shouted, riding off. But how did the thief
escape? I inspected the house. All the doors and windows were locked. And
how could he have possibly escaped the dogs?

After breakfast - theft or no theft, one must have one's breakfast - I

told my lady the truth about the Indian's plot. She was extremely shocked
but, surprisingly, seemed more concerned about her daughter. 'I've never
seen her behave so strangely,' she said. 'The loss of the jewel has had an
effect on her brain.'

Mr Godfrey was behaving strangely too, wandering about in an

uneasy, aimless way. He was of weaker metal than I had thought. But we
were all uneasy. The servants were suspecting one another. The Moonstone
had turned us all upside down.

Mr Franklin returned before eleven. 'Superintendent See - grave is

coming,' he said. 'But it's useless. The case is hopeless.'

'Why? Have the Indians escaped, sir?' I asked.

'Those Indians have been imprisoned unfairly,' he replied. 'Police

enquiries proved that they returned to Fritzinghall and stayed in their hotel
all night. Nevertheless, in case of any further discoveries, they're being kept
in prison for a week.' But if they were innocent, I asked myself, who had
taken the Moonstone?

Ten minutes later, Seegrave and his men arrived. I knew him well: a
large, loud man. Mr Franklin immediately told him the investigation was
hopeless. Seegrave found no signs of a forced entry. 'Someone inside must
have stolen the stone,' he declared confidently. The servants, feeling
suspected, followed him up to Miss Rachel's sitting-room like a cloud of
angry bees. 'Look!' he said, pointing to a smear in the paint on the door.
'Someone's dress has brushed against the wet paint.' Everyone except
Rosanna crowded round to see. 'Back to work, all of you!' he ordered. I
noticed Rosanna leave immediately. Seegrave then searched the room,
found nothing, and asked to see Penelope. 'Now, young woman,' he said
sharply, 'I want the truth.'

'Are you accusing me?' my daughter replied fiercely. After I had

smoothed things over, she told him how she had seen Miss Rachel put the
diamond in the drawer before going to bed. Next morning, at eight o'clock,
when she brought Miss Rachel her breakfast, she had found the drawer
open, empty.

Seegrave knocked on Miss Rachel's bedroom door. 'Go away! I have

nothing to say to anyone!' she shouted from inside. Seeing his anger and
surprise, I told him Miss Rachel was ill and asked him to wait and see her
later.

'Seegrave is a fool,' Mr Franklin whispered downstairs, before going

out on to the terrace with Mr Godfrey. Miss Rachel came downstairs as pale
as death, ignoring the Superintendent, who tried to speak to her. She went
out on to the terrace, straight to Mr Franklin, ignoring Mr Godfrey, who
stepped back and left them alone. I watched Miss Rachel's words bring a
look of complete astonishment to Mr Franklin's face. Seeing my lady join
them on the terrace, Miss Rachel said some quick last words to her cousin
and rushed inside. Mr Godfrey joined my lady and Mr Franklin and they
walked off, Mr Franklin explaining something. Inside, Miss Rachel brushed
past Seegrave on her way upstairs. 'I don't want to talk to you!' she cried, a
wild, angry look in her eyes. 'My diamond is lost. Neither you nor anybody
else will ever find it!'
 I accompanied Seegrave upstairs. Miss Rachel's bedroom door was
locked. We heard her crying inside. The police officer was losing his
patience. He asked to see the servants. They were questioned one by one,
including Penelope for a second time. My daughter's anger had made a bad
impression on him. Afterwards, she rushed out teary-eyed saying that he
had as good as told her that she had taken the jewel!

Seegrave then searched the servants' rooms, and found nothing.

While he was deciding on his next line of action, Mr Franklin asked to see
me in the library. Rosanna rushed out as I entered. The library had been
cleaned in the morning, so she had no business in there. Red-faced, with a
strange, self-important look in her eyes, she said, 'Mr Franklin dropped a
ring upstairs. I gave it to him,' and walked away.

I found Mr Franklin writing. 'Please send this telegraph, Betteredge,'

he said. 'My father knows the Commissioner of Police. I hope he can send
us a cleverer head than Seegrave's.' He lowered his voice to a whisper. 'I
think Rosanna Spearman may know more about the Moonstone than she
ought to - or she's gone a bit weak in the head. She certainly behaved very
strangely just now. She came in and she said: "They'll never find the
diamond, will they, sir? Or the person who took it. I'll make sure of that."
She actually nodded and smiled at me! I was about to ask her what she
meant when you knocked.'

Passing the kitchen with the telegram I saw all the servants were at
dinner except Rosanna. I was told she had suddenly felt ill and had gone
upstairs. 'Curious,' I said. 'She looked well enough just now.' Penelope
followed me out. 'Don't talk like that, father!' she whispered. 'They'll only
treat her even worse. The poor girl is breaking her heart over Mr Franklin.'

Seegrave now had a different theory: someone in the house must

have helped the Indians. Mr Franklin offered to take him into town to
question them again. Mr Godfrey, interested, asked to go with them. Before
they left, Mr Franklin had a word with me. 'I won't send the telegram until
we've seen the Indians,' he said. 'And keep an eye on Rosanna Spearman
while I'm away. And Miss Rachel. I'm very worried about her.' He left me
suddenly.
 Rosanna came down to tea looking ill, was given some medicine
and went back upstairs. Miss Rachel remained in her room, saying she was
unwell. The gentlemen returned before dinner. Mr Murthwaite had kindly
acted as interpreter, but the interview had failed to throw any new light on
the affair. Mr Franklin had sent his telegram, and Superintendent Seegrave
was going to return the following morning.
 CHAPTER NINE

Sergeant Cuff Arrives

Two pieces of news came on Friday morning. First, the baker had
met Rosanna walking towards Fritzinghall on Thursday afternoon; second,
Dr Candy had caught a cold in the rain and had a dangerously high fever.

Shortly after Seegrave arrived, a telegram came for Mr Franklin.

'Sergeant Cuff is arriving this morning!' he said. 'There isn't a mystery this
man can't solve!' Seegrave sat down immediately to write a report for the
famous London detective. I was watching him anxiously chewing on his
pen, when I saw a miserable-looking figure dressed in black arrive at the
gates outside. At first sight, the bony little old man seemed almost like a
ghost. Could this be the famous Sergeant Cuff?

Outside, as he introduced himself in a quiet, sad voice, his steely

grey eyes met mine. They were as sharp as knives, those eyes, and seemed
to know more about you than you did yourself. I told him Superintendent
Seegrave was waiting to see him and he followed me silently towards the
house. The first sign of any interest that he showed was when he saw our
rose garden. He began talking to the gardener - who soon found out he was
an expert on roses. He touched a white rose with his thin yellow fingers.
'Pretty dear,' he said softly, as though speaking to a child.

Seegrave and Cuff spoke in private in my office. Afterwards, the

Superintendent seemed excited and the Sergeant was yawning. 'The
Sergeant wishes to see Miss Verinder's sitting-room,' Seegrave announced
authoritatively. I took them upstairs.

Softly, Cuff examined the cabinet and the entire room. Only the
door seemed to awaken his curiosity. 'How did this happen?' he asked me,
placing a stick-like finger on the dried smear. Seegrave answered: 'The
servants crowded into the room yesterday morning. A dress did it. I ordered
them out.'
 'Did either of you notice which dress?' asked Cuff, still speaking to
me. 'I can't remember,' Seegrave replied. 'It's unimportant.' Cuff gave
Seegrave a sad look. 'In all my experience of this dirty little world I have
never known anything unimportant. We must find the dress that did this;
and we must know when that paint was wet.' He turned to me. 'Sir,
yesterday, you all came in here around eleven, I believe. Does anybody
know whether the paint was dry at that time?' I told him Mr Franklin knew.
Cuff sent for him and he joined us in the room. 'The paint dries in twelve
hours,' he declared. 'The smeared part was finished at 3 p.m. on
Wednesday.'

'Therefore, Mr Blake, the paint dried around 3 a.m. on Thursday. It

must have been dry for approximately eight hours when you all came in
here at eleven.' Miss Rachel suddenly rushed out of her room. Cuff bowed
and introduced himself. 'Take my advice, Sergeant,' she said angrily. 'Don't
allow Mr Franklin Blake to help you.' She turned to Mr Franklin with a
wild look but, curiously, was unable to look him in the eyes. Cuff's eyes
never left her. 'Thank you, miss,' he said. 'Do you know anything about the
smear? Might you have done it by accident?'

'I know nothing,' she declared and went and shut herself up in her
room again. Hearing her burst out crying inside, Cuff said: 'Miss Verinder is
extremely upset about the loss of her diamond.' A faint smile appeared on
his lips. 'Naturally! - it's an extremely valuable jewel.' His face hardened.
'Now, we must discover when the paint was last seen without that smear.
Who saw it last on Wednesday night?'

'Possibly Mr Betteredge's daughter, Penelope,' Mr Franklin replied.

Cuff took me aside. 'We don't want to annoy the servants, do we?' he said,
'so please tell them I don't suspect anybody. I have no evidence - yet - that
the diamond has been stolen. I only know it's been lost. Say I simply want
them to help me find it. Now go and fetch your daughter.'

Cuff seemed to approve of Penelope. She told him she saw them
finish the last part, and had seen it as late as midnight, without a smear. She
had been careful not to touch it. He examined her dress. There was no trace
of paint. He then asked me whether a dog might have entered the room. I
said this was impossible. He studied the smear closely and was satisfied it
had been made by clothing - between midnight and three o'clock on
Thursday morning. 'Yes, Superintendent,' he said, 'Please feel free to return
to Fritzinghall. But leave one of your men here, will you? - in case I need
him. Good morning.' He went to the window and stood there whistling 'The
Last Rose of Summer.'

Seegrave, deeply offended, marched noisily out. Nodding

thoughtfully, his eyes on Miss Rachel's bedroom door, Cuff asked to speak
to my lady. Leaving the room I heard Mr Franklin say to him, 'Can you
guess yet who has stolen the diamond?'

'Nobody has stolen the diamond,' Cuff replied.

 CHAPTER TEN

The Search Begins

'Must I see him?' my lady said. 'I don't know why but I have a
feeling that horrible little man is bringing trouble and misery into this
house. But if I must see him, I must. Stay with me while we talk, will you,
Gabriel?'

Mr Franklin returned to Mr Godfrey who was soon to be leaving. I

took Cuff to my lady's room. 'At present, only one thing is certain,' he said
to her. 'The diamond is missing.' He explained the smear on the door. 'The
stained dress may lead us to the stone,' he said in conclusion. 'So I must
search the servants' wardrobes, I'm afraid.' She refused, saying she would
not let them be insulted a second time. 'I don't think they'll object, your
ladyship,' he replied, 'if I tell them - with your permission - that I'm going to
search everybody's wardrobes.'

She seemed to appreciate the Sergeant's clever solution. 'Very well, I

agree to let you search my room. I am sure Miss Verinder, Mr Blake, and
Mr Ablewhite won't refuse either.' Mr Godfrey came in to say goodbye with
Mr Franklin. My lady explained the Sergeant's plan. Mr Franklin agreed to
let his wardrobe be searched. Mr Godfrey offered the Sergeant the keys to
his luggage, saying it could be searched and sent on to London later. Mr
Godfrey left a message for Miss Rachel - which made it clear to me that he
had not taken her No for an answer.

'My lady,' said Cuff as soon as the young gentlemen had left, 'I must
be able to account for the clothes in the house, especially the clothes that
have been washed. They will be recorded in the washing book, I believe?'
Rosanna brought in the washing book, looking very tired and pale, and left.
He examined the book, shut it again, and said, 'The last time I saw the
woman who brought this book she was in prison for theft.'

I told him the truth about Rosanna. My lady made it very clear how
satisfied she was with her. 'You don't suspect her, I hope?' she added,
getting up to go and ask Miss Rachel for the keys to her wardrobe. The
Sergeant bowed. 'I have said, your ladyship, that I don't suspect anyone of
stealing - at least not at the moment.'

Cuff whistled 'The Last Rose of Summer', until Samuel came in

with a note. Miss Rachel flatly refused to let her wardrobe be searched.
'Ah!' said the Sergeant, as though somehow expecting this. 'It's all
wardrobes or none - a pity.' His sad eyes fell on me. 'You don't seem too
disappointed,' I said. 'Mr Betteredge,' he replied, 'let's go and have a look at
those roses, shall we?'
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rosanna

'Walls have ears,' said Cuff, examining a rose. 'In my business we

prefer the open air, like this beauty.' He sighed. 'I've decided to search the
servants' thoughts and actions instead of their wardrobes. But before I do,
can I ask you whether any of them have acted strangely since the loss of the
diamond?' Rosanna immediately came to mind, but before I could answer I
saw Cuff's eyes suddenly look towards the bushes. 'What's the matter?' I
asked. 'Oh, just a pain in my back,' he replied loudly, as though wanting a
third person to hear. We went on to the terrace. 'Does young Rosanna have a
lover?' he asked. 'If she hasn't, she's behaving suspiciously. She was hiding
in the bushes just now.'

The bushy path by the rose garden was Mr Franklin's favourite

walk. He would take it on his way back from the station. Many times,
Penelope had seen Rosanna hanging about there since his arrival. I
explained this to the Sergeant, and told him that the poor girl was in love
with Mr Franklin. 'I'm glad - it explains things,' he said. 'And no doubt he
hasn't even noticed the girl?'

'Yes, Sergeant,' I said. 'I'm afraid ugly women have a bad time in
this world.' He looked me very hard in the face, then took my hand and
shook it. 'Mr Betteredge,' he said, 'I like you.'

Back in my office, he asked me to call the servants one by one. The

cook was the first, then my lady's maid, then Penelope. Rosanna was next.
She stayed longer than any of them and came out as pale as death. Samuel
followed; Nancy was last. When she had left I went into Cuff's 'courtroom'
and found him whistling 'The Last Rose of Summer'.

'If Rosanna asks to go out,' he said, 'let the poor thing go. But tell
me first.' The cook entered. Rosanna had asked to go out for some air
because she had a headache. I said yes. As soon as the cook had gone I
showed Cuff the servants' entrance and he disappeared.
 I had a chat with the cook and my lady's maid. Neither of them
believed Rosanna had been ill the previous day. They had knocked on her
door several times during the afternoon. No answer; and it was locked.
They had seen a light under the door at midnight, heard the sounds of a fire
at four in the morning - in June! And of course they had told Cuff all this.

Later, out in the afternoon, I met Mr Franklin on the bushy path.

When he had returned, my lady had told him about Miss Rachel's refusal of
the search. I told him everything else that had happened. 'Rosanna
Spearman went to Fritzinghall secretly,' he said. 'She burnt her paint-stained
dress. She must have stolen the diamond. I must tell my aunt immediately.'

'Not just yet, please, sir,' said Cuff's sad voice behind us. We turned
to him.

'Why not just yet?' said Mr Franklin, annoyed.

'Because, sir, if you tell her ladyship, she will tell Miss Verinder.'

Mr Franklin walked up to the Sergeant and stared threateningly

down at him. 'Are you forbidding me?' he enquired.

'I'm saying, sir, that if you tell Lady Verinder or anyone else before I
give you permission I will abandon the case.' Realizing he had no choice,
Mr Franklin turned away angrily and left us.

'Mr Betteredge,' Cuff said, 'please leave the detective work to me,
will you?' He took my arm. 'What do you want of me now?' I said.
'Information, as usual,' he replied with a weak smile. He pointed towards
the Shivering Sand. 'Show me the beach.'

As we approached the bay in the grey of evening, Cuff said, 'I

understand your charitable feelings for that poor girl. But she's not in the
slightest danger of getting into trouble - not if I can prove she was simply
concerned with the disappearance of the diamond. I have evidence - as plain
as the nose on your face - that she's simply an instrument in the hands of
another person.'
 'Can't you give that person a name?' I said.

'Can't you, Mr Betteredge?' I shook my head. He gave me one of his

sad looks. 'She went secretly to Fritzinghall yesterday to buy cloth to make
a dress exactly the same as the stained one. The fire in her room was to heat
the iron to press the new dress, not to burn the stained one. She knows that
the cook and Lady Verinder's maid suspect her, so she still has to hide the
dress, doesn't she?' I nodded. 'I followed her this evening to the fishing
village, to a cottage. She came out with something hidden under her coat. I
followed her north along the coast as far as I could - unfortunately there's
nowhere to hide along there. I hope we'll meet her by coming round this
way. If not, the sand may tell us what she's been doing.'

I felt suddenly uneasy. I could hear Rosanna telling me that the

quicksand seemed to be pulling her to it against her will. The light was
rapidly fading and, as there often is when the tide is about to turn, an awful,
breathless calm hung over the bay. Cold fear ran up my spine as we saw the
mirror-like surface of the sand begin to tremble. 'A most murderous place,'
said the Sergeant, echoing my thoughts.

'And no sign of her anywhere.' We went down on to the beach.

'The only way to get here from the fishing village is by coming
round below the cliffs at low tide,' I said. We had walked south a hundred
yards when Cuff suddenly kneeled. 'A woman's,' he said, examining
footprints in the sand. They went round in circles then finally into the water.
'She was obviously trying to hide where her walk ended, to hide whatever
she had under her coat. Perhaps if we go to the cottage we may find out
what it was.'

We reached the fishing village before dark. The cottage belonged to

a family called Yolland. The daughter, Lucy, who had a deformed foot, had
made friends with Rosanna. Mrs Yolland invited us in. The fisherman and
his son were out. Lucy, always tired and weak, was upstairs. Cuff showed
wonderful patience, casually bringing the talk round to Rosanna. He
assured her that his only aim was to clear Rosanna of unfair accusations by
the other servants concerning the Moonstone. 'They hated the poor girl!'
Mrs Yolland interrupted. 'She said she was going to leave - very soon.'
 'I see,' said Cuff sadly. 'So she has no other friends - apart from
you?'

'Oh, yes!' replied Mrs Yolland. 'This evening, she went upstairs on
her own. "I want to write to a friend," she said. And later she bought some
things she needed for travelling. She showed us a metal case. We had two of
these. I sold her one. Sailors use them for keeping things dry. And I sold her
two chains.' Softly, Cuff began whistling 'The Last Rose of Summer'.
 CHAPTER TWELVE

Rachel's Decision

'Yes,' said Cuff as we left the village in the dark, 'she joined the
chains to the case and sunk it in the water or in the quicksand, fixing it to
the rocks. All very clear, but - the mystery is, what is in the case? Not the
diamond, obviously.' Not the diamond? I thought. The stained dress then?
He stopped and turned to me in the shadows. 'Does anything that is thrown
into that quicksand ever come out again?'

'Never,' I answered.

'The question is why,' Cuff continued. 'Why not just tie the dress
around a heavy stone and throw it into the quicksand? But is it a dress?
Could it be a nightgown, for example? I must go to Fritzinghall tomorrow
and find out what she bought.'

When we got back, the servants were at supper. Rosanna had

returned an hour before, had gone upstairs to take off her coat and was now
sitting quietly with them. I followed Cuff round to the back of the house. He
looked up at Miss Rachel's bedroom window, watching lights passing to
and fro. 'I bet you a pound, Mr Betteredge,' he said, 'that an hour ago Miss
Verinder decided to leave the house.'

Samuel met us inside. 'Her ladyship is waiting to see you and

Sergeant Cuff,' he said. 'How long has she been waiting?' asked Cuff. 'An
hour, sir,' Samuel replied.

As I knocked on my lady's door, Cuff whispered, 'I shouldn't be

surprised if there's a disturbance in the house tonight.'

Only a small lamp was on in the room. 'Sergeant,' said my lady from
the shadows, 'Miss Verinder decided about an hour ago to go and stay with
her aunt, Mrs Ablewhite, in Fritzinghall. She will be leaving tomorrow
morning.'
 'Might it be possible, my lady, to persuade her to delay leaving a
little? I have to go to Fritzinghall tomorrow morning, and won't be back
until 2 p.m. I would like to say a few words to her - unexpectedly - before
she goes.' Unwillingly, my lady accepted. She told me to tell the carriage
not to come until two. 'And please don't mention me as the cause for putting
off her departure,' Cuff added. My lady was about to say something, but
stopped herself. She waved her hand for us to leave her.

'She almost told us,' Cuff said once we were outside, 'and the
mystery that puzzles you would have been at an end tonight.'

'Curse you!' I cried. 'There's something you've known all this time!
Tell me the truth, Sergeant, what do you suspect?'

'I don't suspect. I know,' he said calmly.

'Are you trying to tell me she stole her own diamond?' I said.

'She has had it all the time, calculating that we will suspect
Rosanna.' He almost smiled. 'We'll let the matter rest tonight, I think. I'm
hungry. Would you like to have supper with me?'

I said I'd lost my appetite, left him with the gardener and went out
for some air. Dark clouds were gathering in the distance; the wind was
rising; bad weather was on the way. Samuel brought me a note from my
lady. The judge in Fritzinghall had written to remind her that the three
Indians were to be released early in the coming week. If we had any more
questions to ask them there was no time to lose. When I got back inside,
Cuff and the gardener were arguing about roses over a bottle of whisky. He
read the message, searched his mind a moment, said, 'I believe there is a
gentleman in Fritzinghall who is an expert on Indian matters,' then returned
to the argument.

I met Penelope in the passage outside. She had been helping Miss
Rachel pack. Apparently, when her mother had told her that her departure
had to be delayed, she had been violently angry. Her mother, equally angry
with Miss Rachel, went to her, whispered something in her ear, and Rachel
left the room. Miss Rachel's bell rang while we were talking and Penelope
left me.

Later, as I was putting the lights out, I couldn't help feeling that
some terrible threat was hanging over us all. Upstairs, in front of Miss
Rachel's rooms, I found Cuff lying asleep on three chairs put together
across the corridor. 'What are you doing here?' I asked.

'Whatever Rosanna may have hidden, it was clear to me that Miss

Rachel couldn't go away until she knew it was hidden. The two of them
must have communicated tonight. If they try again, I want to be in the way.'
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A Letter

Next morning, Cuff didn't leave for Fritzinghall straight away as

expected. I met Mr Franklin on his favourite walk down the bushy path.
The Sergeant joined us. 'What do you want?' Mr Franklin said to him
sharply. 'I want to remind you, sir,' Cuff replied, 'that I am an officer of the
law and it is your duty to give me any special information which you
possess.'

'I have no special information, and have nothing to say.'

'Not even about Rosanna Spearman?' said Cuff. 'Hasn't she spoken
to you, or tried to speak to you?' As Cuff said this Rosanna appeared
nearby. Penelope was with her, obviously trying to make her go back inside.
Seeing Mr Franklin, Rosanna stopped. Cuff, pretending not to notice them,
said loudly, 'You needn't be afraid of harming the girl, sir.'

'I take no interest in Rosanna Spearman,' Mr Franklin replied.

Hearing this, Rosanna turned away. She let my daughter take her by the
hand and lead her inside. 'I shall go to Fritzinghall now, Mr Betteredge,'
Cuff said quietly. 'Expect me back at two.'

After breakfast, after Mr Franklin had left for a long walk in the
rain, Penelope came to me. 'Please talk to Rosanna, father,' she said. 'I'm so
worried about her. Mr Franklin has hurt her cruelly without intending it.' I
asked her why she was in the garden. 'She wanted to speak to him,' she
replied. 'I tried to stop her. I told her she was stupid to expect him to take
any interest in her. She frightened me, father. She turned to stone when he
said those words. Since then she's gone around in a kind of dream.'

We found her sweeping a corridor. There was a strange dullness in

her eyes. 'Cheer up, Rosanna!' I said. 'If you've got something on your mind
you can tell me. I'm your friend.' She went on sweeping, more like a
machine than a living person.
 'Yes,' she said, 'I will tell - but Mr Franklin, not you. But I shan't
trouble him today.'

'You can tell me, if it will relieve your mind,' said Penelope.

'No,' she said to herself, 'I know a better way of relieving my mind.'
We left her as we had found her, like a woman in a dream. She should see a
doctor, I thought, then remembered that Dr Candy was extremely ill. There
was his strange assistant, Ezra Jennings, but I - and no one else - trusted
him.

Cuff returned at ten to two. 'I saw the Indians with Mr Murthwaite,'
he said. 'They will be set free on Wednesday. There is no doubt that they
came here to steal the Moonstone, but I am equally sure they have nothing
to do with the loss of the jewel. One thing is certain, Mr Betteredge: if we
don't find it, they will.' Mr Franklin, returning, passed us in silence.
'Rosanna bought a length of plain cloth,' said Cuff, 'enough to make a
nightgown. Plain cloth means servant's cloth. But why, having made the
replacement, does she hide the smeared nightgown instead of destroying it?
There is only one way of finding out if she won't tell us. We must search the
Shivering Sand.'

Samuel arrived with Miss Rachel's carriage at two. 'When you

leave,' said Cuff, 'you'll see a man waiting among the trees by the gates.
He'll jump up on the back of the carriage. All right?'

My lady came out, said nothing to me or Cuff, and stood stiffly

waiting for her daughter. Rachel came downstairs, colorless, her eyes bright
and fierce. She kissed her mother hurriedly, said, 'Try to forgive me,
mamma,' and ran to the carriage. Cuff jumped in front of her. 'What do you
want?' she said angrily.

'Your leaving makes it extremely difficult for me to find the

diamond,' said Cuff. She got in and ordered the carriage to leave. My lady,
in sorrow and shame, turned to go inside, nearly bumping into Mr Franklin
as he ran down the steps. 'Goodbye, Rachel!' he shouted, waving. 'Drive
on!' Miss Rachel shouted to Samuel. Mr Franklin called after my lady as the
carriage drove away: 'Aunt! You were right. Now I must leave. Thank you
for all your kindness.' Tears in her eyes, my lady went inside.

Mr Franklin turned to me. 'Please, Betteredge, get me to the station,'

he said and went inside. 'It's time to sort this business out,' said Cuff.
'Where's Rosanna Spearman?'

We asked servants. She hadn't been seen for an hour. 'Your dear
Rosanna won't slip through my fingers that easily,' he said. 'She and Miss
Rachel will meet at Fritzinghall. She's either gone there - before I can get
there - or she's gone to the Shivering Sand.'

Nancy, the kitchen maid, said she had seen Rosanna stop the
butcher, who had just delivered meat to the house, and ask him to post a
letter. The butcher had said it was a complicated way to send a letter to the
fishing village, that it wouldn't get there until Monday. Rosanna had said
that it didn't matter how long it took to arrive and the butcher had driven
away with it. 'Well?' I asked when we were alone again. 'The hiding-place is
in that letter,' Cuff replied. 'I shall pay Mrs Yolland another visit on
Monday.'
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Shivering Sands

Duffy, the gardener's boy, had seen Rosanna half an hour before,
running towards the sea. 'Come with me, Duffy,' said Cuff. 'And you, Mr
Betteredge, stay here till I come back.' They hurried off towards the
Shivering Sand, but not long afterwards Duffy came running back. I had to
send one of Rosanna's shoes quickly. I sent him back to say I would follow
with the shoe. Fifteen minutes later, I reached the shore. Dark clouds were
rushing low overhead. The sea was thundering at the mouth of the bay,
sending great waves rolling in over the sand. Cuff was alone on the beach.
Hearing me approach behind him, he turned. There was a look of horror in
his eyes. He grabbed the shoe out of my hand and placed it in a footmark in
the sand. It fitted exactly.

We followed the footprints to the mouth of the bay. They went into
the water at a place where the rocks and the sand joined. Seconds earlier the
rising tide had wiped them out. We looked everywhere for footsteps coming
back towards land until the rising water forced us to stop. Cuff stared out
over the waters rushing in deeper and deeper over the whole face of the
quicksand. There was a look of defeat on his face. 'A fatal accident has
happened to her on those rocks,' he said. I could no longer feel the driving
rain, all I could hear was her telling me that the sands seemed to be pulling
her to a watery grave. The horror of it struck me. Gently, Cuff led me away
from where she had died. Yolland ran up to us. He looked down at
Rosanna's footprints dissolving in the rain. 'Is there any chance of finding
her when the tide turns?' asked the Sergeant. 'None,' said the fisherman.
'What the sand gets, the sand keeps forever.'

On our way back, Duffy ran up to us with a note. 'Penelope found

this in Rosanna's room,' he said. Tears came to my eyes as I read it:

Mr Betteredge, when you next see the Shivering Sand, please try
and forgive me. Yes, I found my grave there. I died grateful for your
kindness.

Rosanna Spearman

The note had thrown the whole house into a state of panic. As we
passed my lady's door, she threw it open violently, with a horrified look on
her face. Mr Franklin was trying to calm her. 'This is your fault!' she
shouted at Cuff. 'Gabriel, give this miserable person his money and remove
him from my sight!'

'I will accept your dismissal, but not your money,' Cuff replied. 'I am
paid for doing my duty - which is not yet done.' Oddly, my lady seemed
almost embarrassed by his flat professional manner. He went on: 'When I
have told you plainly, your ladyship, what action must be taken to get back
the Moonstone, my responsibilities will have ended.' After a moment's
thought, my lady signaled Cuff and me to follow her back into her room.

'Your ladyship,' said Cuff when we had sat down. 'I believe some
unbearable anxiety concerning the diamond drove Rosanna to suicide. And
I believe your daughter can tell us whether this is true.' My lady took her
cheque book, looked at Cuff steadily and said, 'You suspect Miss Verinder
of deceiving us by hiding the diamond for some purpose of her own?'

'That is it, my lady.'

'I know my daughter, Sergeant, and I can tell you she is absolutely
incapable of doing what you suspect.' She sighed, controlling herself.
'Nevertheless, I give you permission to go on and explain yourself.'

'Thank you,' said Cuff. 'But I must be frank, your ladyship. It has
been my experience that young ladies of Miss Verinder's social position can
have debts which they dare not admit to their nearest relatives and friends.
Events and behaviour in this house suggest this to me. Miss Verinder is still
extremely upset more than twenty-four hours after losing her diamond; she
has developed a sudden strange dislike for Mr Blake, the Superintendent
and myself - the three people who have been most actively trying to find
her jewel; and, of course, she refuses to cooperate. Her behaviour tells me
she has debts and has pawned the diamond to pay them.' He continued,
unbothered by our shocked silence. 'That is the case against her. Now, what
is the case against her and the dead Rosanna Spearman together? As soon as
I saw Rosanna I suspected her of being involved. It was a cleverly planned
conspiracy - from Miss Verinder's point of view. Better than leading us to
think that the Moonstone was simply lost, she could trick us into believing
it was stolen - by a woman with a criminal record. Poor dead Rosanna was
the ideal person to help her pawn the stone privately. She knew one of the
few men in London who could advance a large sum of money on such a
famous jewel - without asking questions. I will now tell you what I propose
to do. I intend to watch Miss Verinder closely. And I shall send one of my
men to make an arrangement with that money-lender in London - you can
be sure Rosanna gave his name to Miss Verinder. Would you agree to this?'

'No,' said my lady flatly.

Cuff went on, undiscouraged. 'Another way, my lady, would be to

tell Miss Verinder, without warning, of Rosanna's death. Sudden sorrow
may encourage her to admit everything. Would you agree to this?' To my
astonishment my lady nodded. 'Then, my lady,' said Cuff, getting up, 'I wish
you good morning.' My lady raised her hand. 'Sergeant, I feel it would be
better if I told her. I will go to Fritzinghall. You may rely on me to try the
experiment.' As soon as my lady had left, I informed Mr Franklin of her
decision. He decided to wait for the news from Fritzinghall before leaving. I
returned to Cuff. He was studying his diary. 'I was seeing what my next
professional appointment is,' he said.

'You think it's all over?' I said.

'I think Lady Verinder is an extremely clever woman. Now, where is

that gardener? I promised to teach him something about roses before I left.'

My lady's carriage returned earlier than expected. She had decided

to stay at her sister's in Fritzinghall for the time being. The driver brought
two letters, one for Mr Franklin, one for me. A cheque dropped out of mine
when I opened it. The Sergeant appeared on the steps. 'Ah!' he said in his
sad way. 'News from her ladyship?' I read him the letter:
 Gabriel, Miss Verinder declared that she has never spoken a private
word to Rosanna or communicated with her by other means. They never
met, not even accidentally, on the night the diamond was lost. I warned her
that her behavior was inviting suspicion. She assured me that she has no
debts to anybody, and that the diamond has never been in her possession
since she put it in the drawer on Wednesday night. She remained stubbornly
silent when I asked her if she could explain the stone's disappearance. Tears
in her eyes, she said, 'The day will come when you will know why 'Im
silent.'

Give Sergeant Cuff this cheque and tell him that I am absolutely
certain that his suspicions are mistaken.

Cuff's eyebrows went up when he looked at the cheque. 'I will

always remember her ladyship's generosity,' he said, but he placed it on the
table. 'A fine woman. Yes, Lady Verinder has smoothed things over very
cleverly - for the moment. But we shall hear more of the Moonstone before
too long.'

'If you don't think Miss Rachel is telling the truth then prove it,' I
said angrily. I was sick of his accusations. He was so obviously wrong.
Miss Rachel was incapable of doing what he suspected.

He wasn't offended. Quite the opposite - he took my hand and shook

it! 'You're a fine man, sir!' he said warmly. 'I won't say a word more about
Lady Verinder and her daughter. I'll simply say that these three things will
happen. First, you will hear from the Yollands - after Rosanna's letter is
delivered on Monday. Second, you will hear of the three Indians again -
here, if Miss Rachel remains here, in London if she goes to London. And
third, sooner or later you will hear from Mr Septimus Luker, a money-
lender. Time will tell if I am right or wrong, Mr Betteredge, and if we don't
meet again before I retire from this dirty job, I hope you'll come and visit
me at my cottage near London. And bring the gardener - I'll teach that man
a thing or two about roses!'

I couldn't help liking the man, even though I hated him.

 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

To London

Mr Franklin had made up his mind to leave. 'Wait a day or two

longer, sir, and give Miss Rachel another chance,' I said. He handed me my
lady's letter.

Franklin, I am forced to believe now that the Moonstone's

mysterious disappearance is no mystery to Rachel. I have tried everything
but something forbids her from breaking her silence. She is in a pitiful state
of nervous excitement. I shall take her to London for a change of air and
some medical advice. Please come and see us there, will you? But not
straight away. It is impossible to reason with her at the moment, and for the
moment you two are better apart. Give her time.

'The Moonstone has given Colonel Herncastle his revenge,' said Mr

Franklin. 'But in a way he never dreamt of.' We said goodbye and, sad and
weary, I went inside. He was right. The diamond had brought us nothing but
unhappiness.

The next day (Sunday) Samuel brought a message. My lady and

Miss Rachel were leaving directly from Fritzinghall for London that day.
Penelope was to accompany them but I was to remain in the country.

I had said goodbye to Penelope at the gates and was walking back
through the rose garden when I heard my name called. I turned and saw
Limping Lucy. 'Where's Franklin Blake?' she said fiercely. 'Mr Franklin
Blake, you mean,' I replied. 'Murderer Franklin Blake, I mean,' she shouted.
'He caused her death!'

'What makes you say such a thing?' I replied angrily.

'You don't care!' she said softly. 'Everybody treated her badly.
Except me. I loved her.' Tears came to her eyes. 'I'd saved up a little money.
We were going to go and live together in London and earn our living by
sewing. Until he came. She lost her mind when that man arrived. "I can't
live without him," and "Oh, Lucy, he never even looks at me." It was pitiful.
And then her letter came this morning.' Wiping her eyes, she cried, 'Where
is he?'

'He's in London,' I replied. 'Why do you want to see him?'

'I have a letter from Rosanna to give him. If he wants it he must

come back and get it from me. I and nobody else must give it to him.' She
turned and limped away towards the Shivering Sand.

On Tuesday morning a letter came from Mr Franklin's father's head

servant, an old friend of mine. He mentioned that Mr Franklin had left
England for Europe on Sunday morning. And so, for some time to come,
there would be no hope of knowing whether Rosanna's letter contained a
confession or not.

Thursday brought news from Penelope. A London doctor had

earned a lot of money by suggesting that the best cure for Miss Rachel was
amusement: flower shows, operas, dances, that sort of thing. Mr Godfrey
had visited and was most politely received.

Saturday's post brought an envelope from Cuff containing an article

from a London newspaper, a report from the law courts:

Mr Septimus Luker, a dealer in Oriental jewellery, complained to

the court that he had been annoyed by three poor Indians. Again and again
they had tried to enter his house, asking for charity Mr Luker believed they
intended to rob him and demanded that they should be arrested. The judge
dismissed the complaint, saying there was no evidence. He advised Mr
Luker to get the police's advice on how to protect his property.

The devilish Indian diamond had left us and found its way to
London. And so it is here that I must leave the story for someone else to
take up.
 PART TWO

THE DISCOVERY OF THE TRUTH (1848-1 849) FIRST NARRATIVE

by Miss Clack, niece of the late Sir John Verinder

CHAPTER ONE

A Strange Mistake

My dear parents (both now in heaven) taught me to fold my clothes

carefully, to always say my prayers before going to bed, and to keep a diary.
The last of these excellent habits will, I hope, enable me to be useful to a
wealthy relation. Recently, Mr Franklin Blake wrote to me here in France
(where I have been forced to live for economic reasons). He asked me -
with the typical lack of feeling of the rich - to reopen wounds that Time has
hardly closed. He offered me a small sum to write a narrative of what I
witnessed while visiting Aunt Verinder in London. After much searching of
my soul I decided that it was my Christian duty to swallow my pride, accept
his cheque, and help him.

My diary tells me I was accidentally passing Aunt Verinder's house

in Montagu Square on July 3rd 1848, and felt that it would be polite to
knock. The daughter of that godless old devil Betteredge answered the door.
She informed me that Aunt Verinder and her daughter (I really cannot call
her my cousin!) had arrived a week before. I sent her upstairs to say that I
didn't want to disturb them but as I was passing I wondered whether I could
be of any use to them. When the Betteredge girl came downstairs I decided
to have a Christian word with her about the unnecessary amount of ribbons
on her cap. She opened the front door before telling me (with a minimum of
politeness) that I was invited to lunch tomorrow. I left.

That evening we had a meeting of the Young Mothers' Small

Clothes Society. I was a member of the charity's Committee, as was my
precious and most admirable friend, Mr Godfrey Ablewhite. To my
disappointment he did not appear that night, and I was shocked to hear from
my Christian sisters of the Committee that the previous Friday he and a
gentleman called Mr Septimus Luker had been victims of a strange
conspiracy.

According to the newspapers, early on June 30th our gifted Mr

Ablewhite, after cashing a cheque at a bank in Lombard Street, passed Mr
Luker - a perfect stranger - who happened to be leaving the bank at the
same time. The stranger insisted on Mr Godfrey leaving first, and the two
men went their separate ways. Mr Godfrey went back to his house in
Lambeth, where a poorly dressed young boy was waiting for him. The boy
handed him a letter, saying he had been asked to deliver it by an old lady he
didn't know. It asked him to go, an hour later, to a house in Northumberland
Street. The woman, who intended to give a large sum of money to charity,
wanted information on the Young Mothers' Small Clothes Society. Our
Christian Hero never hesitates when good can be done. He went instantly.

A very respectable-looking Englishman answered the door and led

him to an apartment at the back of the house. Entering, Mr Godfrey noticed
an ancient Oriental book on the table. As he was admiring it, a brown-
skinned arm took him by the neck. He struggled but there was more than
one person. His eyes were bandaged, he was tied to a chair, and was
searched. Words were spoken in a foreign tongue, then the men left.

He was discovered later by the owners of the house. They had

rented the apartment to the Englishman the day before. Seeing that the door
had been left open for a long time they went in to see if anything was
wrong. Mr Godfrey's belongings were lying everywhere but nothing was
missing. The Oriental book was gone. Had Mr Godfrey been the victim of a
strange mistake?

Later that day the same thing happened again. Mr Luker, having left
the bank, visited various parts of London on business. Returning home, he
found a letter waiting for him. A customer from Manchester, a collector of
Oriental antiques, announced that he was on a short visit to London and
desired to see Mr Luker urgently about an important sale. He drove
immediately to an address in Tottenham Court Road where exactly the same
thing happened to him - with one slight difference. Mr Luker's gold watch,
his wallet, nothing was missing except one thing: a receipt for an extremely
valuable object which he had put in the bank. The receipt was useless to
anyone else since it clearly stated that only Mr Luker himself could remove
the object from the bank.

Mr Luker hurried to the bank. Nobody had been there with the
receipt. He went to the police who told him about Mr Godfrey's similar
experience. They believed that a robbery had been planned and that one of
the thieves had seen Mr Godfrey accidentally speaking to Mr Luker.

On Tuesday, dear Aunt Verinder received me with her usual

kindness. However, I soon noticed that something was wrong. Anxious
looks kept escaping her in the direction of her daughter who, as usual,
disappointed me - how could such a plain looking person be the child of
such fine parents? After lunch, she got up in her shamefully colourful dress
and said, 'I'll go and read now, mamma, but tell me if Godfrey calls. I can't
wait to hear all about his adventure in Northumberland Street.' She gave me
a careless look. 'Goodbye, Clack,' she said and left in a cloud of perfume. I
refused to let her make me angry. I did what any good Christian would do: I
simply decided to pray for her that night.

When we were alone my aunt told me the whole story of the Indian
diamond and of Rachel's worrying behavior. None of it surprised me - I
have known Rachel since she was a child. The one thing that did shock me
was Aunt Verinder's decision to have a doctor examine her. The poor girl
was more in need of God's help! 'This strange adventure of Godfrey's has
happened at the wrong time,' said my aunt. 'Rachel has been restless and
excited ever since she heard about it.'

'Dear aunt,' I said. 'She's obviously keeping a sinful secret from you
and everybody. Something in these recent events threatens her with
discovery.' There was a knock on the door. Miss Cap Ribbons entered and
announced a visitor, Mr Godfrey Ablewhite.
 CHAPTER TWO

Rumours and Reputations

A model of manners, Mr Godfrey walked in shortly after the

announcement of his name. We both asked him whether he felt himself
again after his terrible adventure. 'My dear aunt, my dear Miss Clack!' he
exclaimed, 'What have I done to deserve all this sympathy? I would have
preferred to have kept the whole thing to myself!' I was overcome by the
heavenly gentleness of his smile, by the richness of his deep voice. 'And
how is dear Rachel?' he enquired. 'And you, Miss Clack, I really do hope to
be able to be at the Young Mothers' Small Clothes meeting next week.' I
was about to reply when we were disturbed by Rachel.

'I am charmed to see you, Godfrey,' she said. 'I wish you had
brought Mr Luker with you. Never mind, tell me the whole story
immediately.' I was sad to see him take her hand. 'Dearest Rachel,' he said,
'The newspapers have told it better than I can.'

'Rachel, darling,' I remarked, 'true greatness and courage are always

modest.'

'Godfrey,' she said, not taking any notice of me, 'I am sure you are
not great and I am certain that if you ever had any modesty your lady-
admirers took it from you years ago. You have a reason for not talking
about your adventure and I will find it out.'

'My reason is simple,' he answered, 'I am tired of the subject.'

'That won't do. Now, sit down.' She dragged him to a chair. 'Have
the police done anything, Godfrey?' she asked him.

'No, nothing.'

'People say, don't they, Godfrey dear, that the three men who trapped
you both are the Indians who came to Fritzinghall?'
 'Some people say so, I believe, yes.'

'Do you?'

'My dear Rachel, I never saw their faces.' He tried to get up. She
pushed him down. 'You never met Mr Luker before you met him at the
bank?' He shook his head. 'You were questioned together by the police. Did
the banker's receipt describe the object left at the bank?' He said the receipt
wasn't mentioned in his presence. Rachel sighed. 'The newspapers are
connecting what happened at Fritzinghall and what happened here. They
say that the object in the bank is-' She stopped, her face suddenly white.
Dear Mr Godfrey tried again to leave his chair. 'Stay where you are,' she
ordered. 'They say it's the Moonstone, Godfrey. Don't they?'

To my surprise, a change came over my admirable friend. He lost

his smoothness of manner. 'They do say so, yes! But Mr Luker has
repeatedly declared that he has never seen or heard of the Moonstone.'
Rachel laughed. She looked at my friend pityingly. 'Did you know, Godfrey,
that certain people are spreading rumours that you pawned the Moonstone
to Luker?'

Suffering this terrible insult, his noble eyes filled with tears. He put
out his hand to take hers. She jumped to her feet with a scream. 'Don't touch
me!' she cried. She looked at her mother. 'This is all my fault! I sacrificed
myself - I had a right to do that - but not to keep a secret that ruins an
innocent man for life!'

'You exaggerate,' Mr Godfrey said. 'My reputation can't be ruined by

rumours like that. All will be forgotten in a week.'

'I must stop it!' she cried out. 'I know who took the Moonstone, I
know, I know-' She stamped on the ground in a peculiar temper. 'I know that
Godfrey is innocent!' She fell to her knees at her mother's feet. 'Oh,
mamma, mamma, I must be mad, mustn't I?' Mr Godfrey attempted to calm
her. Pulling herself together, she said, 'Godfrey, I've been so unfair to you.
You're a better man than I believed. I'll try and repair the wrong I've done
you.' She gave him her hand and - he actually kissed it!
 'I will come, dearest,' he said, 'as long as you never mention this
hateful subject again.' I was deeply shocked by our Christian Hero's
behavior. A thunderous knock at the door startled us all.

Rachel got up. 'They've come to take me to the flower show,' she
said, teary-eyed. She kissed her mother. 'Mamma, before I go, this hasn't
caused you too much anxiety, has it?'

'No, no, my dear, go with your friends now and enjoy yourself.'

She left the room. My heart bled for the poor misguided girl. Mr
Godfrey gave us one of his beautiful smiles, held out a hand to his aunt, a
hand to me. I closed my eyes, put his hand - in a moment of self-
forgetfulness - to my lips and sat down. When I opened my eyes again he
had gone.

But, alone with Lady Verinder, I was to hear worse. 'Drusilla,' she
said. 'I have something to tell you, and a favor to ask you. My lawyer, Mr
Bruff, is coming at five. I want you to witness the signing of my will. I have
been seriously ill, Drusilla, for more than two years now, with heart disease,
and the truth is I may live another year or die this afternoon.' She looked
hard at me. 'Rachel, of course, must not be told.' How can I describe the
sorrow and sympathy I felt, or the thrilling thankfulness that rushed through
me? My dear aunt was totally unprepared to make the great change. 'Oh!
Oh, how I can help you, aunt!' I said, forgetting myself. She gave me a
puzzled, almost frightened look. 'Aunt,' I said, 'I have some books which
you must read, books that can help you in this hour of need.' I had just time
to hurry home, get the books and return for the signing of the will.

When I returned, the doctor was with Aunt Verinder. I joined Mr

Bruff in the library. He was surprised to see me - we had met on similar
occasions more than once. 'Have you come to stay here?' he said, eyeing my
large bag full of books. 'My aunt has asked me to witness her will,' I said.

'I see,' he said. 'Very well - after all, you've no financial interest in it.
So, tell me, Miss Clack, what's the latest news from the world of ladies'
charity? How is your friend Godfrey Ablewhite? I've been hearing some
salty stories about him.' Understanding his meaning perfectly, I replied, 'I
won't argue with a clever lawyer, Mr Bruff. I will simply say that in the
eyes of a famous London police officer, there is not the slightest shadow of
suspicion on anyone except Miss Verinder.'

'Do you mean,' he replied, 'that you agree with Cuff?'

'I mean nothing. I am a Christian, Mr Bruff, I judge no one.'

'I judge the Sergeant to have been completely wrong,' he replied. 'If
he knew Rachel's character as I know it, he would never have suspected her.
I admit she has her faults - she's wild, stubborn, secretive - but she's as
honest and true as steel.'

I could not resist telling him the truth. 'In that case, permit me to
inform you that when Mr Godfrey was here two hours ago Rachel declared
that he was innocent.' I went on to describe the whole scene, everything that
was said.

'You would have made a good lawyer, Miss Clack,' he said when I
had finished. He began walking thoughtfully up and down. The new light I
had thrown on the subject had obviously disturbed him. 'What a case!' I
heard him say to himself. 'A complete mystery.'

'Excuse me,' I said. 'But may I remind you that Mr Franklin Blake
was also in the house when the diamond disappeared? His debts are well
known.' The old devil looked at me steadily with a hard and vicious smile. 'I
manage Mr Franklin's legal affairs,' he said. 'And I can tell you that most of
his lenders, knowing that his father is a very rich and very old man, are
quite prepared to be patient. Besides, Lady Verinder has told me that her
daughter is ready to marry Franklin Blake. She told her that she loved him.
So, Miss Clack, why would he steal the jewel?'

'The human heart is unsearchable,' I said gently.

'No, no, Miss Clack,' he said, 'Miss Rachel's innocence is without

doubt. So is Mr Ablewhite's. So is Mr Franklin's. All we know is that the
Moonstone came to London, and that Mr Luker or his banker has it at the
moment. It puzzles you, me, everybody.' A servant came in to say Aunt
Verinder was ready to receive us.
 CHAPTER THREE

Placing the Books

My aunt's will was as short as her husband's. Her daughter would

inherit everything. A handsome young servant, Samuel, was second
witness. The signing took less than two minutes.

Afterwards, Mr Bruff looked at me, hoping perhaps that I might

leave him alone with my aunt. He might as well have expected the Rock of
Gibraltar to move. He said something under his breath and left. My aunt lay
down on the sofa. 'I haven't forgotten you, dear,' she said. 'You're not
mentioned in the will but I intend to give you something to remember me
by.'

Here was a golden opportunity! I took a book out of my bag, The

Snake at Home, by Miss Bellows. This fine Christian work shows how evil
lies in wait for us in the most innocent actions of our daily lives. 'Read this
book,' I said, 'and you will have given me all I could ever want.' My poor
aunt glanced at the book and handed it back to me, looking more confused
than ever.

'I'm afraid, Drusilla,' she said, 'that the doctor has advised me to read
only amusing books.'

'Aunt,' I said patiently, 'let me leave it here.' She gave me an

exhausted look, so I thought it might be wise to leave.

I crossed the hall and slipped into the library, where I noticed two of
the 'amusing' books the doctor had recommended. I took out two of mine
and put them on top of them. I went into the breakfast room, and put two
more on the piano. I put a whole pile beside my aunt's sewing box, another
by the fireplace.

As I folded my clothes that night I thought of the true riches I was

giving to my wealthy aunt in the form of my good Christian books. I felt so
light-hearted that I sang a song to Jesus! And forgot to pray for Rachel.

Next morning, as I was about to leave for Montagu Square, my

landlady knocked. Samuel was standing beside her with a box, looking as
fresh and blue-eyed as ever. I felt a Christian, motherly interest in the boy,
so I invited him in. He put the box down, looking as though he wanted to
run away, and said there was a letter inside. I delayed him with a few
questions. Could I see my aunt if I called at Montagu Square? No, she had
gone out for a drive with Miss Rachel and Mr Ablewhite. I also discovered
that they were going to a concert together the following morning. I offered
Samuel tea. He rushed out.

We had a meeting of the Young Mothers' Small Clothes Society that

night. The next day there was a meeting of the British Ladies' Servants'
Sunday Sweetheart Society. So obviously Mr Godfrey had no intention of
being present at either. I was beginning to see our hero in a slightly different
light.

Feverishly, I began opening the box. Was it the 'remembrance' my

aunt had promised me? No, it was my twelve precious books. I admit I was
a little disappointed but, as you know, the true Christian never gives up; so
at two o'clock, there I was with my books again, knocking on Lady
Verinder's door.

Miss Cap Ribbons said she had had a bad night and was resting on
the sofa. I said I would wait in the library. I thought that Rachel and her
pleasure-loving friends (Mr Godfrey included, alas!) were all at the concert.
So, having placed books here and there, I decided to go upstairs and put
some in the living-room. As I entered I heard a knock on the door
downstairs, then heard Samuel say, 'Upstairs, if you please, sir.' I heard
footsteps. Not wanting to be discovered upstairs on my own, I hurried into a
small area on one side of the living-room and pulled the curtain. The man
entered the living-room and began walking up and down, talking to himself.
'Do it today! You must do it today,' he kept saying. It was Godfrey
Ablewhite.
 CHAPTER FOUR

A Silent Listener

I was about to rush out and beg him, in the name of the Ladies'
Committees, to explain himself, when I heard Rachel say, 'Why didn't you
go into the library?' He laughed softly. 'Because I was told Miss Clack is in
there.' She laughed. 'Clack, in the library!' she replied. 'You're right,
Godfrey, we're much better here. Bring that chair nearer to me.' Carefully, I
moved the curtain so I could see. 'Well?' she went on, 'What did you say to
them?'

'Just what you said to say, dear. They were sad not to see you at the
concert.' He brought his chair even closer and took her hand. Can words
describe how saddened I was by this sight?

'Have you forgotten, Godfrey?' she said. 'We agreed to be cousins

and nothing more.'

'My heart breaks that agreement, Rachel, every time I see you.'

'Then don't see me.'

'No! Am I mad, Rachel, to dream that one day your heart may soften
to me?' He put his handkerchief to his eyes. Even she seemed to be moved.

'Are you really sure, Godfrey, that you are that fond of me?'

'You're my only interest in life. Would you believe that now my

charitable duties seem like a nuisance to me? When I see a Ladies'
Committee now I wish I was at the other end of the earth!'

'You've made your confession,' she said. 'Now I think the best thing
you can do is leave. I'm not good enough for you, Godfrey. I hate myself,
don't you understand?' She burst into tears. 'And I don't want your pity!
Now go away, will you!' He did something completely unexpected. He
knelt at her feet... and put both arms round her! 'Noble person,' he said.

She was so surprised, or fascinated - I don't know which - that she

made absolutely no effort to put his arms back where they should have
been. 'Yes,' he repeated. 'You're such a noble person. Please let me be the
one to take care of your poor wounded heart.'

'Godfrey,' she replied, drying her eyes. 'You must be mad!'

'I never spoke more seriously, my dearest. I don't ask for your love
straight away. I'll be content simply with your affection and respect. Only
Time can heal wounds as deep as yours.'

She looked at him, confusion clouding her face. 'Don't tempt me,
Godfrey,' she said sadly. 'I'm unhappy and disturbed enough as it is. Don't
tempt me to make things even worse!'

'One question, Rachel. Do you have anything against me?'

'I - I always liked you. I respect and admire you.'

'How many wives can say that, Rachel? How many respect and
admire their husbands? Marry me, dearest! I value your respect and
admiration more than the love of any other woman!'

'Slow down, Godfrey! You're putting something into my head which

I never even thought of before.'

'I won't get up until you've said yes!'

She looked at him curiously. 'Do you feel as confidently as you

speak, confident enough to give me time, not to hurry me?'

'My time shall be yours.'

'You won't ask me for more than I can give?'

'My Angel, all that I ask of you is your hand!'

 'Take it then.'

With those words she accepted him! He pulled her nearer, until her
face touched his, and she let him - I tried to close my eyes before it
happened (I almost screamed in horror). When I opened them again he was
sitting next to her. 'Shall I speak to your mother,' he asked, 'or shall you?'

She seemed to come to her senses. 'I don't want my mother to hear
from either of us until she's better. Godfrey, go now. Come back this
evening.' She got up and looked in my direction. 'Who closed those
curtains?' She came towards me, was about to open the curtains when - my
heart almost stopped - Samuel's voice shouted from downstairs. 'Miss
Rachel! Where are you?' She ran to the door. 'Miss Rachel, my lady has
fainted.'

Moments later I was alone. I went downstairs unseen and saw Mr

Godfrey hurrying out to fetch the doctor. I found Rachel on her knees by the
sofa. One look at my aunt was enough. She was dead. I was so shocked that
I didn't remember until a few days later that she hadn't given me my little
'remembrance'.
 CHAPTER FIVE

Brighton

Ten days after Lady Verinder's tragic death, the whole family knew
about the secret marriage engagement. I didn't see Rachel until a month
later. My aunt's will had named her brother-in-law, Godfrey Ablewhite's
father, as Rachel's legal adviser.

Rachel wanted to move. The house in London reminded her of her

poor mother, the house in Yorkshire reminded her of the terrible affair of
the Moonstone. Old Mr Ablewhite suggested renting a house in Brighton.
Mrs Ablewhite could come and stay there with her. He asked Mrs
Ablewhite to make arrangements.

Aunt Ablewhite has never done a thing for herself in her life. She
found the rented house in Brighton by staying at a hotel in London and
asking her son to find it. She found the servants by inviting her niece to tea.
'Drusilla, dear, I want some servants. You're so clever. Please get them for
me.' I went into the next room to make a list, and was surprised to see
Rachel. She got up and took my hand. 'Drusilla,' she said, 'I've always been
so rude to you. I do hope you'll forgive me.' Of course, like a good
Christian, I accepted her apology. She invited me to come and stay with her
in Brighton. There had been such a remarkable change in the poor child that
I felt that I might at last be able to help her towards the only true happiness,
the love of God. And the stay in Brighton would be a chance to begin the
good work.

She suggested that I should go to Brighton first to prepare the house.

I accepted. By Saturday afternoon I had found suitable servants and all was
ready. The joy of being able to convert her to the Christian faith filled my
mind with a heavenly peace. Having placed a few carefully chosen books in
Rachel's rooms, I went downstairs to wait for them to arrive.

They arrived at six, not with Mr Godfrey, as I expected, but with the
scheming old lawyer, Bruff. I had prepared a little heaven for my Rachel
and here was a snake already! Rachel went over to the window and stared at
the sea. 'Tired, love?' I enquired.

'No,' she replied. 'Just a little sad - remembering happy days that can
never come again. I've often seen the sea in Yorkshire with that light on it.'

Bruff stayed the evening. I was sure he had a reason for

accompanying them to Brighton. When he finally left for his hotel he
invited himself to lunch the next day.

The next morning I took Rachel to church. At lunch, she refused to

eat, saying she had a headache. The lawyer jumped at his chance. 'A walk is
a good cure for a headache,' he said. 'I'll accompany you.' She accepted his
offer enthusiastically.

'It's past two,' I remarked gently. 'Afternoon church is at three.' But a

minute later they had left the house.

They had got back when I returned from church. One look told me
the lawyer had said what he wanted to say. I had never seen Rachel so silent
and thoughtful. Bruff got up to leave. He had (or pretended he had) to be in
London the next day. 'Are you sure of your decision?' he said. 'Quite sure,'
she said. When he had left she went to her room and did not come down to
dinner.

When I took up her cup of tea the next morning, I asked her whether
she had had time to look at any of my books. Yes, she said, and they had not
interested her. 'I was wondering, my love,' I said, 'whether Mr Bruff might
have told you some bad news?' Her dark eyes flashed at me. 'No, not at all,'
she said. 'It was most interesting news.' She looked out at the sea. 'I
suppose,' I said with gentle interest, 'that it was news about Mr Godfrey?'
She thought a moment then said these remarkable words: 'I shall never
marry Godfrey Ablewhite.'

'What can you possibly mean?' I exclaimed. 'The marriage is

considered by everyone to be a settled thing!' She looked at me very
seriously. 'Wait until Godfrey Ablewhite comes here today,' she said, 'and
you will see. Now, please, Drusilla, I'm going to have a bath.' It was the best
way of making me leave the room.

After breakfast she wandered aimlessly from room to room, then

suddenly sat down at the piano and began hammering out shameful tunes
from the most un Christian shows. I was forced to leave the house.
Returning, I entered the dining-room and found myself face to face with
Godfrey Ablewhite. He made no attempt to leave. On the contrary, he came
warmly forward to greet me. 'Dear Miss Clack, I've been waiting to see
you!' He knew my friends must have kept me informed of his shameful
neglect of our charities. Perhaps he wanted to explain his behavior.

'Have you seen Rachel yet?' I asked. He sighed gently, and took me
by the hand. I'm sure I wouldn't have let him if he hadn't given me this
astonishing reply:

'Yes,' he said perfectly calmly, 'and we talked about our engagement.

She has decided to leave me free to make a happier choice elsewhere. And I
have agreed.' I stood staring at him, my hand in his. He led me to a chair.
'Suppose we sit down,' he said sweetly. The man has such a way with ladies
I felt completely helpless. I remember he was very affectionate.

'I have lost a beautiful girl, an excellent social position, and a large
income,' he began. 'I have agreed to it without a struggle, and curiously I
don't care. Now, when I think about it, I don't even know why I proposed
marriage to her. The result, however, is that I have neglected my dear
Ladies. I feel like a child who doesn't know why he's been naughty.' I
remember he became even more affectionate (he even put his arm round my
waist).

'Dear friend,' he went on, 'the idea of marrying Rachel seems to me

now like a strange dream. My true happiness is with my dear Ladies, in
doing my modest Christian work. I don't need an income! Or a social
position! Or Miss Verinder! A month ago I was pressing her to my chest.
Today she told me she loves another man and that marrying me was an
attempt to forget him. Can you explain my behaviour, my dear friend? I
certainly can't.'
 I could. The pure Christian side of him had finally rejected the idea
of marriage to Rachel. I told him this in a few sisterly words. His joy was
beautiful. He compared himself to a man coming out of darkness into light.
Our brother had returned among us! I let him do what he liked with his
hands. I felt my eyes closing in self-forgetfulness... Then the dinner bell
rang. I jumped up.

'I must rush to the station,' he exclaimed. I asked him why he was in
such a hurry. 'I must tell my father about this - his heart was set on our
marriage.' He hurried out. I went in to lunch, naturally curious to see how
all this had affected Miss Rachel. She was silent, distant, yet seemed to be
relieved. I had the impression she felt free again to think about the man she
loved.

I was sure old Mr Ablewhite would arrive that night - considering

the importance his greed had attached to his son's marriage to Rachel. He
arrived the next day, followed soon afterwards by Mr Bruff. 'Well, this is a
surprise, Mr Bruff,' he said. 'When I left you yesterday I hardly expected to
see you here today.'

'After our conversation,' Bruff replied, 'I thought perhaps I might be

of some use.' He seated himself by Rachel. Mr Ablewhite stayed
purposefully in the middle of the room. 'Rachel, my dear,' he said most
affectionately. 'I have heard some very extraordinary news. Please, would
you come into the sitting-room with me?'

'Whatever you want to say to me can be said here in the presence of

my-' (she glanced at Mr Bruff) '- of my mother's old and trusted friend.'

'Very well, my dear,' Mr Ablewhite said patiently. He took a chair,

smiling sympathetically at her. 'It's obvious you two have had a lovers'
quarrel.'

'Let us understand each other, Mr Ablewhite,' she said. 'No quarrel

took place between your son and me. If he told you I suggested breaking
our engagement, and that he agreed - he told you the truth.'
 Mr Ablewhite went slightly red but replied sweetly. 'Come, come,
my dear! Don't get angry. And don't be hard on poor Godfrey. He means
well.'

'Mr Ablewhite, we have agreed to remain cousins. Is that clear?'

He went a shade redder. 'Must I understand then that your

engagement is broken?'

'That is what you must understand, Mr Ablewhite. And that is all I

have to say.' She turned and stared out at the sea.

Getting up, Mr Ablewhite pushed his chair back so violently it fell

over. 'If my son doesn't feel insulted, I do!' he announced.

Rachel looked at him, surprised. 'Insult?' she said.

Mr Ablewhite was now purple. 'Yes, insult!' he repeated. 'I wasn't

considered good enough for your mother's sister and now my son isn't good
enough for you!'

A few wise words will help them, I thought to myself, and I got up.
'As an affectionate well-wisher,' I said, holding up one of my books, 'I am
sure that these Christian words of love may-' Mr Ablewhite knocked the
book out of my hand. 'Shut up!' he shouted, and turned to Rachel again. 'It
is my duty to inform you, young woman, that if my son isn't good enough
for you then I certainly can't be good enough to remain your legal adviser.'
He smiled bitterly, bowed and marched out of the room.

'You idiot!' said Aunt Ablewhite, turning on me. 'You're the one who
annoyed him! I hope I never see you and your stupid books again.' She went
over to Rachel and kissed her. 'I beg my husband's pardon, my dear. Please,
is there anything I can do?'

'Answering for Miss Verinder,' said Bruff, 'could I ask you to leave
the room for ten minutes?' She left without a word. He looked hard at me,
expecting me to follow, but soon gave up. 'My dear Rachel,' he said, 'would
you like to come to stay with us in Hampstead - until we've decided what to
do next?' She nodded, before I could even say a word.

'Stop!' I said. 'Mr Bruff You're not her relative! I am. I invite her.'
Rachel looked at me with cruel astonishment. Bruff said nothing. 'Rachel,
dearest Rachel, come and share my modest home with me!'

'You're very kind, Drusilla,' she said. 'But I have accepted Mr Bruff's
invitation.'

'Oh Rachel!' I cried, 'please don't say that! Please don't go! I dream
of making a Christian out of you - like I was trying to do with your poor
dear mother.' I tried to take her in my arms but she jumped back, looking at
me almost in horror. 'Enough of your insults!' she cried. 'My mother was the
most Christian person I have ever known.' She turned to the lawyer. 'It
disgusts me to breathe the same air as her. Now, Mr Bruff, I must prepare to
leave.' I was left there, alone, abandoned, hated by them all.
 SECOND NARRATIVE

by Mathew Bruff, lawyer

CHAPTER ONE

Money-Lending

I can throw some light on certain points which have remained in the
dark. My narrative begins shortly after Lady Verinder's death, when I heard
of Miss Verinder's proposed marriage.

I was terribly disappointed when I heard that she was to marry a

man I had always believed to be a smooth-tongued flatterer. I was certain of
his financial motives and felt it was my duty to warn Miss Rachel, but I did
not want to worry her so soon after her mother's death. On the other hand, if
I remained silent she would go ahead with a marriage that would make her
unhappy for life.

I called at the hotel in London where Mrs Ablewhite and Miss

Rachel were staying. They were going to Brighton the next day.
Unexpectedly, Mr Godfrey could not accompany them, so I offered to. I
was able to talk to Miss Rachel the next day. I recommended that she
should tell Ablewhite in private that she had proof of his financial motives,
and that therefore the marriage was out of the question. I told her to tell him
that if he tried to oppose her, she would make her knowledge public.

After I returned that evening, Ablewhite's father came to my office.

He told me that his son had been dismissed by Miss Rachel - and had
accepted it. This confirmed my theory: that Godfrey needed a large sum of
money and needed it quickly. Why else would he give up so easily a
lifetime of luxury? His father wanted to know whether I had an explanation
for Miss Verinder's extraordinary behavior. Obviously, as her lawyer, I
didn't have one. I was sure that Miss Verinder might find him difficult to
cope with when he visited the next day. I thought it better if I was with her.
The meeting has been described by Miss Clack and resulted in Miss Rachel
coming to stay with my wife and me.

A week after the end of her stay with us, my secretary informed me
that a gentleman wanted to see me. There was a foreign name on the man's
card; below it, was handwritten: 'Recommended by Septimus Luker.' He
was extremely polite, well-mannered, and very smartly dressed in European
clothes. The moment he entered my office I knew he was one of the three
Indians. I felt uneasy - knowing he would have murdered me if he thought I
had the Moonstone. I asked what his business was.

He unfolded a gold cloth and showed me a tiny box, beautifully

decorated with jewels. 'I have come, sir,' he said, 'to ask you to lend me
some money. I can leave this as a guarantee.'

'Luker recommended me?' I asked. He nodded. 'Yet he knows I'm a

lawyer, not a money-lender like him. He refused you?' He nodded. 'And so
do I,' I said. He wrapped up the box and got up. 'Supposing, sir,' he said,
'that you could have lent me money, how long would you have given me to
pay it back?'

'A year,' I replied.

'Is that the usual time in this country?' he asked. When I said it was,
he smiled contentedly and bowed. I felt sure for some reason, as I watched
him leave, that pawning the box was just an excuse to lead up to that very
last question.

Shortly afterwards, Luker came to see me. The substance of what

that slippery old crook had to say is this:

The Indian had visited him the day before, dressed in the same way.
Luker recognized him as one of the Indians who had been begging at his
house. Knowing that he must also be one of the men who had robbed him
of his banker's receipt, Luker was terrified. The man showed him the box
and asked for a loan. Luker refused, saying the best person to ask was a
respectable lawyer. He recommended me. I asked him what the Indian had
said before leaving. He had asked the same question, and got the same
answer. A year.
 CHAPTER TWO

Next June

By an extraordinary coincidence I met Mr Murthwaite at a dinner

that evening. Knowing he was a friend of Lady Verinder's, I brought up the
subject of the Moonstone. 'Have you heard from the Indians lately?' he
asked immediately. I described what had happened to Luker and myself,
mentioning the Indian's question about the standard length of time for
repaying a loan.

'Can't you see his motive, Mr Bruff?' he said. I said I couldn't.

'Which was the event that gave the Indians their first chance of taking the
diamond?' he asked me. 'When Colonel Herncastle died,' I replied. 'Until
then the stone was safe in the bank.'

'Yes,' he said. 'And you, as a lawyer, know that anyone can obtain a
copy of a will from the Law Office. The copy of the Colonel's will informed
them that he left the stone to Miss Verinder, and that Mr Blake or someone
of his choice had to give it to her on her birthday. Their one difficulty was
to decide whether to attempt to get hold of the diamond when it was
removed from the bank, or later, in Yorkshire. They chose the second, safest
way - but were undoubtedly unaware, when they first visited Lady
Verinder's house, that Franklin Blake had already put the stone in the bank
in Fritzinghall. So they decided to wait until Miss Verinder's birthday; and
were rewarded for their patience by the sight of the jewel on Miss
Verinder's dress! However, the extraordinary disappearance of the
Moonstone that night completely defeated their careful plan; and the next
day they sat in jail, powerless to do anything. Their next chance came while
they were still locked up. I'll explain. A day or two before they were set free
the governor of the prison came to see me with a letter, addressed to the
Indians at their hotel in Fritzinghall. It was written in Hindustani. I
translated it: "Brothers, in the name of the Prince of the Night, turn your
faces south and come to me in the street of many noises which leads to the
muddy river. My own eyes have seen it." The day they were set free they
took the first train to London. What was the next we heard of them?'
 'They were annoying Luker, begging at his house,' I said.

'Somebody took the Moonstone to London and tried to pawn it,

otherwise it would never have been in his possession. Have the police not
found out who?' I shook my head. 'I see,' he said. 'At any rate, thanks to
Luker's cleverness, the Indians lost their next chance of getting hold of the
diamond. The Moonstone was once more out of their reach, in the bank,
until-'

'Until next June,' I said. 'It was at the end of last June.'

'Exactly. They've been defeated twice. I don't believe they will let it
happen a third time.' Those were his last words on the subject. That night I
made a note in my diary about June next year. I close my narrative with
what it said: June 1849 - expect news of Indians towards end of month.
 CONTRIBUTED BY FRANKLIN BLAKE

CHAPTER ONE

Franklin's Return

In the spring of 1849, while I was travelling in Central Asia, I sent a

servant to fetch my letters and money from the nearest British embassy. He
returned with a letter from Mr Bruff. He advised me to return home
immediately. My father had died.

Although I had put half the world between me and Rachel I had
failed to forget her. The nearer I got to England, and to the possibility of
seeing her, the more I felt her hold on my heart tightening again. She was
the first person I asked after when Mr Bruff met me at the station. He told
me she was living with a sister of the late Sir John Verinder, in Portland
Place, London. Half an hour later I was on my way there.

The servant who answered the door wasn't sure whether Miss
Verinder was at home or not. I sent him upstairs with my card. He came
down again and informed me that she was out. I said I would call again at 6
p.m. That evening I was told again that she was not at home. It was clear.
She did not wish to see me.

My servant took a letter to her the next day, with instructions to wait
for an answer. There was none.

That afternoon, after Mr Bruff had told me of the events since my

departure, I felt even more determined to find out the secret of her silence
towards her mother, and of her cruel behavior towards me. I decided to take
the next train to Yorkshire. If it was humanly possible, I would find the thief
who took the Moonstone!

There I was, standing on the familiar terrace, just before sunset that
evening. I walked round to the back of the peaceful old house and saw dear
old Betteredge in his chair with his pipe. 'Mr Franklin!' he exclaimed and
struggled to his feet. He shook his head regretfully. 'You still owe me that
halfpenny.'

He invited me inside. I had to refuse - the house was Rachel's now.

He was understandably disappointed. 'I had hoped things might have
smoothed themselves over between you two,' he said. I took him by the
arm. 'It's a lovely evening,' I said. 'I'll walk to Fritzinghall and stay at the
hotel.'

'What brings you here, sir?' he asked. 'The Moonstone,' I replied. He

looked at me curiously, appearing to wonder whether this was a joke. 'I
intend to find out who took it,' I said. He became very serious. 'Now you
listen to me,' he said. 'You leave that evil diamond alone! Don't waste your
time on it. How can you hope to succeed where the great Cuff failed?'

I told him my mind was made up. I knew last year that the diamond
was at the bottom of Rachel's dramatic change in attitude towards me, I
knew it still was.

'But don't you feel afraid, sir,' he enquired, 'about what you might
possibly find out about Miss Rachel - concerning her secret?'

'I'm as certain of her as you are,' I said. 'Knowing her secret won't
change my love for her.' Reassured, he said, 'Then I can tell you, sir, that
you may not have far to look.' I stared at him in the gathering darkness. 'Our
poor Rosanna left a letter behind her, addressed to you. Limping Lucy has
it, sir. She wouldn't give it to anyone except you. It was too late - you'd
already left England. We'll go to the fishing village, sir, first thing
tomorrow!'
 CHAPTER TWO

Instructions

I left the hotel before breakfast the next morning. Betteredge was
waiting for me at the house, excitement showing through his characteristic
calm.

When we arrived at the cottage, Mrs Yolland was in the kitchen with
a thin, wild-looking girl with beautiful hair. She looked at me as if I was an
object of both horror and fascination and limped upstairs. Mrs Yolland
apologized for her daughter's odd behavior. I heard 'thump, thump,' across
the room above us, 'thump, thump,' downstairs again. And there she was
with the letter in her hand. She made a sign for me to come with her. I
followed her down to the beach, behind some fishing boats. 'I want to look
at you,' she said. She fixed her eyes mercilessly on me. 'No, I can't see what
she saw in him. Oh my poor lost darling! What could she see in this man?'
She pushed the envelope into my hand. 'Take it!' she said bitterly and
limped away.

The envelope contained a letter and a note. I read the letter first:

Sir, if you want to know the meaning of my behavior towards you,

follow the instructions in the note. You must do this alone.

The instructions gave me precise directions how to find a particular

rock at the Shivering Sand, how to find a particular part of that rock
(uncovered only at low tide), to feel around in the sea plants below it until I
felt a chain, and to pull on that chain.

I heard Betteredge behind me. 'I can't stand it any longer, sir. For
God's sake, what does it say?' I handed him the note. 'Cuff said it!' he cried,
reading it. He looked at the sea. 'The tide is going down. It will turn in an
hour.'
 Following the instructions, we found the place twenty minutes
before the turn of the tide. Betteredge turned to leave. 'Why are you
leaving?' I asked. He reminded me of Rosanna's wish that I make the
discovery alone. 'I'll wait up the beach,' he said.

I waited, watching, as the morning sun poured beauty on everything

around me. The sweetness of the air made the simple act of living and
breathing a luxury. The wet quicksand shone like gold. At last, the turn of
the tide came. I saw the quicksand begin to move, an awful tremble
creeping across its surface. I climbed down the slippery rock until my face
was almost touching the quicksand. For an instant a terrible fear gripped
me. I thought she might rise up out of it and pull me in. I reached down
among the plants underwater - and touched the chain. I pulled, and up out
of the quicksand it came: a metal case.

I opened it and pulled out a white nightgown. There was also a

letter. I spread out the nightgown, saw the smear of paint on it. Sergeant
Cuff's words returned to me: 'Find the dress with the stain, find out who it
belongs to, and you haven't far to look for the hand that took the diamond.' I
looked at the label on the nightgown and read the name. FRANKLIN
BLAKE.
 CHAPTER THREE

Rosanna's Letter

The shock of it stopped all thinking and feeling. The next thing I
remember is walking back with Betteredge, and then his little sitting-room.
In the state I was in, the old man was an enormous comfort to me. 'I have
absolutely no knowledge of taking the diamond,' I told him. 'The very idea
of my taking it is ridiculous! But here are the facts: my nightgown, the paint
on it!'

'I smell something suspicious, sir,' said Betteredge, pouring me

another whisky. 'Was there anything else in the case?' I was instantly
reminded of the letter. I opened it. There were many pages, signed at the
end by Rosanna Spearman.

'Wait,' I said. 'How do we know she didn't steal the diamond? She
may have smeared the nightgown deliberately.' Betteredge put his hand on
my arm. 'In justice to the girl's memory, sir, see what the letter says.' This is
what it said:

Sir, I shall be dead when you read this, but I have a confession to
make. I love you.

Why did l hide your nightgown with the paint on it? Why did I say
nothing to you about it? Because I loved you. Do you remember when you
met us on the beach that morning? You came to me, like a lover in a dream.
From that moment on I loved you more and more each minute, completely
forgetting who I was - only a servant, not a lady. I believe I found out you
were in love with Miss Rachel before you knew it yourself Would you have
loved her if she was a servant?

The morning the diamond disappeared, after Seegrave pointed out

the smear on the door and said someone's dress had done it, he sent us all
back to our work. After I had left Miss Rachel's room, Penelope saw me
looking to see if I had any paint on my dress and told me not to bother. The
paint had been dry for hours, she said. She had heard Mr Franklin tell Miss
Rachel that it would take twelve hours to dry. They had finished the door at
3 p.m. Therefore it had dried around three that morning.

It was my job, sir, to clean your room. It was the happiest hour of
the day for me. I used to kiss your pillow - I beg your pardon, I'm forgetting
myself. Well, that morning, I saw the smear of paint on your nightgown. It
was proof you had been in Miss Rachel's sitting-room between midnight
and three that morning! I was so shocked I ran to my room with it. At the
time I never even thought you might have taken the diamond. I decided to
keep the nightgown and wait and watch, to see what use I might make of it.
But how could I keep it without risking being found out? The only way was
to make another one exactly the same.

I had just finished your room when I was called to be questioned by

Seegrave. Next, all the servants' wardrobes were searched. Later, after
Penelope was questioned a second time, she came back to the kitchen
boiling with anger. According to her, Seegrave suspected her because she
was the last person in Miss Rachel's sitting-room that night. I knew you had
been there later. My head began to spin when I realized: YOU were the
thief! Deliberately, you had been the most active the next day, organizing
the search, fetching the police just to deceive us.

I believed you were guilty because I wanted you to be guilty. It gave

me power over you, power to destroy you in Rachel's eyes. I had the
nightgown that was the only proof against you. But you would miss it. I
needed cloth to make the new one so, after lunch, I pretended to feel ill.
Sergeant Cuff, I know, discovered later that I was not in my room all that
afternoon. But others already suspected me. That night, as I was working in
secret, I heard two servants whispering outside my door.

There was a knock on the door. 'Come in!' Betteredge shouted. One
of the strangest looking men I have ever seen entered. Judging by his figure
and movements, he was still young, but his face told another story: he might
have been older than Betteredge. His skin was coffee-coloured, his nose
like those of the ancient peoples of the East. Dark, dreamy eyes, hollow
fleshless cheeks added to his odd appearance. But it was his hair which was
the most remarkable. Originally dark and curly, it had gone white in the
most extraordinary manner: in stripes here and there, like spilt paint. Seeing
me staring stupidly at him, he said, 'I beg your pardon,' and handed a piece
of paper to Betteredge. His eyes rested on me again, and he left the room as
quietly as he had entered.

'Who was that?' I asked.

'Ezra Jennings, Dr Candy's assistant,' replied Betteredge. 'Poor Dr

Candy never recovered from his illness, I'm afraid. He lost his memory
Jennings takes care of the few patients he has left - poor people mostly.'

'You don't seem to like him,' I remarked.

'Nobody does, sir - because of his appearance, I suppose, and the

colour of his skin. He's a quiet man, keeps himself to himself. He came with
the list of the sick. Miss Rachel has carried on her mother's tradition of
taking wine to the poor people who are sick.'

I began reading again:

I knew Sergeant Cuff would want to examine our clothes. There was
nowhere in my room where I could hide the nightgown, so I undressed and
put it on under my dress. I was asked to take the washing book to Sergeant
Cuff. He and I had already met more than once, but he treated me as if I
was a stranger. I knew this was a bad sign. Afterwards, as it was time for
your return from taking Mr Ablewhite to the station, I went to your
favourite walk near the rose garden. It was the last chance, perhaps, that I
might have to speak to you. You never appeared, and worse - Sergeant Cuff
saw me hiding there.

Why didn't I go and see you later? Why didn't I go and say, 'I have
something to say to you, Mr Franklin. You must listen!' I could have done -
I had such power over you! I had heard Mr Betteredge talk about your
debts. You were obviously going to pawn the diamond. I could have told
you of a man in London who would have taken the jewel. Why didn't I
speak to you? When I was a thief I had taken much greater risks. What was
I afraid of? You, Mr Franklin. In my dreams I loved you with all my heart.
Before your face... I was afraid of you.

Everyone was questioned by Sergeant Cuff. My bitterest enemies,

the cook and Lady Verinder's maid, went in before me. He was very careful
to hide it but I knew that after speaking to them he suspected me of making
a new nightgown secretly - and therefore of being involved in the
disappearance of the diamond. The great Cuff was miles from the truth!
You were safe as long as the nightgown was safe.

If I had been less fond of you I would have destroyed it. But I
couldn't - it was the only thing that could prove to you that I had saved you.
It was your debt to me.

After the interview I said I was feeling ill and needed some fresh air.
I went straight to the Yollands' house. Here I am now, writing. When I have
finished I shall go to the Shivering Sand, hide the nightgown and then -
what then? I will leave this cruel world that has refused me the happiness it
gives so easily to others. Don't blame yourself for this, sir, but try - please
try - to remember me kindly. If you do, I believe my ghost will tremble with
joy.

I love you, sir, Rosanna Spearman.

CHAPTER FOUR

Return to London

I decided to go back to London that day, present the facts to Mr

Bruff, and obtain an interview (no matter how) with Rachel.

'Betteredge,' I asked as we were walking to the station, 'have you

ever known me to walk in my sleep?' He nodded. 'I see your meaning, sir,'
he replied. 'And the answer is no. But if we are to believe the nightgown,
then you went to the room that night - without knowing it - and you took
the diamond - without knowing it. How that is possible I don't know, but if
it is, how can the diamond have found its way to London - without you
knowing it?' I said nothing. I was so upset I couldn't think straight.

We reached the station a few minutes early. I noticed Ezra Jennings

by the book stall. He took off his hat to me.

In London I went straight to Mr Bruff's house in Hampstead. He

examined the nightgown and read Rosanna Spearman's letter. 'Mr Franklin,'
he said, 'this is a very serious matter - for Miss Rachel as much as for you.
Her extraordinary behavior is no mystery now. She believes you took the
diamond. She must be persuaded or forced to tell us why she thinks this. As
a lawyer, I can tell you that the evidence against you falls down, firstly, on
one important point. There must be proof that you wore that nightgown
when it was smeared. There is also Miss Spearman's letter. It shows that she
was clever. If Rachel suspected you simply on the proof of the nightgown
then I'm sure it was Rosanna who showed it to her. It was her opportunity to
destroy the love between you and Miss Rachel. Search your memory. While
you were staying at the house, did anything happen to make Rachel doubt
your honesty?'

I immediately remembered the Frenchman's visit. I had foolishly

accepted a loan in Paris. My aunt had paid him, but she had been shocked
by my irresponsibility. Rachel heard about it and said some severe things to
me. 'I must speak to Rachel myself,' I said. 'I know that somewhere in her
heart she still has some affection for me. The question is how - how to see
her?' The lawyer gave this some thought. 'I'll invite her here the day after
tomorrow,' he said. 'Expect a call from me that morning.'

The next day was the longest in my life. The day after, Bruff came
early and gave me a key. 'She's coming to lunch and will stay the afternoon.
This is the key to the garden gate. At three, let yourself in. The living-room
door will be open. Go in and open the door into the music room. You'll find
her there alone.'

Later that morning I received a letter from Betteredge. Jennings had

stopped him at the station and asked who I was. Later, he had mentioned me
to Dr Candy. The doctor had said he particularly wanted to see me,
whenever I returned to Fritzinghall. He asked Betteredge to let me know
this.

The clock of Hampstead church struck three as I stepped into the

garden. The birds were my only witnesses. I crossed the empty living-room
to the music room door. She was playing the piano. The tune brought back a
wave of memories. I had to wait and pull myself together. Finally, I opened
the door.
 CHAPTER FIVE

Witness

She got up, and we faced each other in silence. 'Rachel!' I said
gently. She advanced, as though against her own wishes, her cheeks a warm
dusky colour. I forgot everything, saw only the woman I loved walking
towards me. I took her in my arms, covered her face with kisses. There was
a moment when I thought my kisses were returned but then suddenly she let
out a little cry, like a cry of horror, and pushed me away from her. I saw
merciless anger in her eyes, total contempt on her lips. 'You miserable
heartless coward!' she said. 'After what you've done, you play on my
weakness, trick me into letting you kiss me!'

'You say "what you've done". What have I done?'

'What have you done?' she cried. 'You dare ask me that! I kept your
crime a secret - and suffered the consequences. You were once a gentleman,
dear to my mother, dear to me-' She dropped into a chair and buried her face
in her hands.

'Rachel,' I said, 'I came here to tell you something very important.
Will you at least just listen to what I have to say?' She neither moved nor
answered.

I told her of my discovery at the Shivering Sand. She never said a

word, never even looked at me. 'I have a question to ask you,' I said. 'Did
she show you the nightgown? Yes or no?'

She jumped to her feet, looked at me searchingly, as though trying

to read something in my eyes. 'Are you mad?' she said.

I simply replied, 'Rachel, will you answer my question, please?'

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. 'They say your father's death has
made you a rich man. Have you come here to repay me for the loss of my
diamond?'

I could control myself no longer. 'You've done me wrong!' I cried.

'You suspect me of stealing your diamond. I have a right to know why!'

'Suspect you!' she exclaimed. 'I saw you take it with my own eyes!'

I stood there speechless.

'Why did you come here?' she asked contemptuously. I advanced

towards her, hardly conscious of what I was doing. The only words I could
find were, 'Rachel, you once loved me.' I took her hand. She looked away,
her hand trembling in mine. 'Let go of me!' she said faintly.

I led her gently to the sofa and sat her down beside me. 'Rachel,' I
said, 'I can't possibly explain what I'm going to say. Yet it is the truth. You
say you saw me take the diamond with your own eyes. What I say is this: I
now realize - for the first time - that I took it. Do you still doubt my
sincerity?'

'Let go of me,' she repeated weakly, but her head sank to my

shoulder, her hand unconsciously closed around mine. 'Tell me everything
that happened,' I said, 'from when we said goodnight to when you saw me
take the diamond.' She lifted her head, made an effort to release her hand.
'Why go back to it?' she said.

'I'll tell you why,' I replied. 'Because we're the victims of some
horrible trick.' Tears fell slowly over her cheeks. 'Oh!' she whispered, 'Oh,
how I've tried to persuade myself that.' I held her closer. 'You tried alone,
without me to help you.' My words seemed to awaken hope in her. 'What
happened after we left each other that night? Did you go straight to bed?'
She nodded.

'About twelve o'clock, but I couldn't sleep - I was thinking of you.'

Her answer almost brought tears to my eyes. 'I got up at about one o'clock,'
she continued, 'and lit a candle. I was about to go into my sitting-room to
get a book. I had just opened the door - but hadn't gone in - when I saw a
light under the other door and heard footsteps approaching along the
corridor. I thought it was my mother, coming to try and persuade me to let
her take care of the diamond. I blew out the candle so she would think I was
in bed. The moment I blew it out the door opened and I saw-'

'You saw?'

'You. In your nightgown, a candle in your hand.'

'Were my eyes open?'

'Yes. They were very bright. You came into the middle of the room,
looking around you, as though afraid of being found out. I was so terrified I
couldn't speak or even move to shut the door. You could easily have seen
me, but you didn't. I'm sure you never saw me.' I asked her how she was
sure. 'If you'd seen me you wouldn't have taken the diamond. You went
straight to the cabinet and opened drawers until you found it. I saw the
stone shining in your hand as you took it out. You stood there for what
seemed like ages, thinking, seemingly uneasy about something. Then you
left. You went straight out, leaving the door open. I stood there in the dark
listening to your steps dying away.'

I got up and walked up and down. 'So?' she said. 'What do you have
to say now?' She waited pitilessly for my reply. I had none, only the terrible,
shameful helplessness of my situation. I suddenly felt the horror, the
disappointment she must have felt. I turned and opened the door to leave.
She jumped up, closed the door. 'No!' she said, 'Not yet.' She spoke without
looking at me. 'I won't tell you what I felt, Franklin. I'll simply tell you what
I did. I decided to tell no one. I was prepared to believe anything - no matter
what! - rather than believe you were a thief. I raised the alarm the next
morning. And what was the first news I heard afterwards? I heard that YOU
had called the police! You were working harder than anyone to recover the
jewel that you already had! But even then - even then something wouldn't
let me give up my faith in you. I went down to the terrace and forced myself
to speak to you - have you forgotten what I said?' I could have answered,
but for what purpose? 'I know what I said,' she went on. 'I gave you several
opportunities - didn't I? - to tell me the truth. I let you know in the clearest
possible way - without actually saying it - that I knew you had stolen it. All
you did was look at me with your false face of innocence - just as you are
now, as if a few words could end a little misunderstanding! I saw you steal
it! I saw you pretend to help the police! You pawned it in London and ran
away abroad the next morning. And now you come here and tell me I have
wronged you!'

I brushed past her and opened the door. She caught my arm. 'Let me
go,' I said. But she wouldn't. 'Why did you come here?' she said. 'Why? Are
you afraid I might make the truth known - now that you're a rich man? You
can marry anyone you want now, can't you?' She gave me a terrible look
and suddenly let go of me. 'Yet even now I can't tear you out of my heart!
Oh, God! I hate myself even more than I hate you.'

I broke free and left her. 'Franklin!' she cried after me. 'I forgive
you! Oh, Franklin, Franklin, shall we never meet again? Say you forgive
me!' I turned, seeing her only dimly through my tears, before I left the
garden.
 CHAPTER SIX

Investigating

Late that evening Mr Bruff visited me, not at all his usual confident
self. 'You know the truth at last,' he said. 'However, the price you - both of
you - paid was too much. She's young.

She will get over this, with time. Promise me, Mr Franklin, that you
won't try and see her again, will you?'

'You have my word.'

'Now, in my opinion, it would be better to consider the inexplicable

events which Miss Rachel described as - dead and buried.' He saw my total
confusion. 'We're wasting our time in the past, Mr Franklin. We must look
to the future. What do we know? We know it was pawned to Mr Luker. Do
we know who by? No. Where is it now? In Luker's bank. And there is every
chance that the person who pawned it may want to get it back. It is already
June - almost a year since it was put in the bank. So I suggest watching the
bank. However, if Murthwaite is right, then the Indians will be watching it
too. Whatever happens, we must find out who pawned the diamond. Only
the discovery of the thief can restore you to your rightful place in Miss
Rachel's heart. It means waiting about a fortnight at the most.'

'A lifetime,' I said. 'My existence is a horrible dream. I must do

something now! I had thought of contacting Sergeant Cuff...'

'Useless. He has retired from the police.' I told him I knew where to
find him. 'All right, do what you want,' said Bruff, picking up his hat. 'Yes,
it's worth a try. As for me, I'll take care of the bank.' We parted.

Next morning, as I walked up the garden path of a little cottage in

Dorking, I saw Cuff's favourite flower everywhere around me. Far from the
crimes of the great city, he was living out his last years here. His wife told
me he was in Ireland on rose business. For how long? She didn't know. I
gave her my card and asked whether he could contact me as soon as he
returned.

For most of that night I sat smoking, building up wild hopeless

theories and knocking them down again. The next morning, pure chance
rescued me from my confusion. I put on the coat I was wearing the day I
visited Rachel and found Betteredge's letter in a pocket. I read it again. Dr
Candy had said he wanted to say something very important to me. I
wondered what it could be - something about the birthday evening,
perhaps? Instinct told me to go to Yorkshire that day. The next train left
three hours later. As I sat wondering how to kill the time, my thoughts kept
wandering back to the birthday dinner. I tried to remember all the guests.
Most of them were from Fritzinghall, except Godfrey, Mr Murthwaite and
Miss Clack. I decided to pay Godfrey a visit.

I drove to his club, where I met a friend in the hall, a friend of

Godfrey's also. He told me that shortly after Rachel broke off their
engagement, he had made an offer of marriage to another very rich young
lady - who accepted, but a few days later the engagement was suddenly
broken off. Soon afterwards, Godfrey was extremely generously
remembered in the will of a very rich old lady, a member of the Young
Mothers' Etc., Etc. Society. She had also been a friend of Miss Clack but
had only left her a ring.

Five thousand pounds richer, Godfrey felt the need for a rest from
his charitable activities. He had left London for Europe the previous day
and was expected to be gone at least three months.

I arrived too late in Fritzinghall to see Betteredge. The next morning

I sent a messenger to ask him to come to my hotel. I decided to visit Dr
Candy before he came.

When I saw the once lively little doctor, I could hardly recognize
him. His eyes were dim, his face thin and grey. The man was a wreck. 'Yes,
I have often thought of you, Mr Blake,' the poor man said, then forgot what
he wanted to say next.
 'You remember the mysterious loss of the Indian diamond,' I said.
'I'm trying to find it. I need to find out everything I can about what
happened at the birthday party. There may be a clue. Do you remember
anything out of the ordinary?' The doctor picked restlessly at his fingers, his
dull eyes fixed emptily on me. The man had no idea what I was talking
about. 'You sent a message to Gabriel Betteredge, saying you wanted to see
me.' I said.

'Yes, yes...,' he said. 'That's it! I sent you a message!' He tried to

remember why.

I tried to help. 'It's been nearly a year now since the dinner at Lady
Verinder's. It was the last time we saw each other.'

'Ah, the dinner, the dinner!' he said. 'Yes, I've something to say to
you about that.' He looked at me with a painful expression of enquiry,
desperately trying to remember. 'Yes, it was a most pleasant dinner,' he said.

By this time I had been with him nearly an hour. Not wanting to tire
him, I rose to leave. 'I'm so glad we've met again,' he said. I went slowly
downstairs, certain he had had something to say. A door opened on the
ground floor and a gentle voice said, 'I'm afraid, sir, that Dr Candy is sadly
changed.' It was Ezra Jennings.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

Lost Memory

He had a patient to see and was going my way. As we were leaving

Fritzinghall I told him that Dr Candy had tried to tell me something but his
memory had failed him. 'Is there a way I might possibly help him to
remember?' I asked.

His dreamy brown eyes looked at me with a flash of interest. 'It's

amazing he's still alive,' he said. 'The fever did permanent damage.
However, Mr Blake, it may be possible to trace Dr Candy's lost memory
without Dr Candy.' He stopped to pick a wild flower. 'How beautiful it is,'
he said. His sudden joy surprised me. He turned to me, the smile leaving his
face. 'I'll explain, Mr Blake. During the worst part of his fever he was
delirious, talking endlessly. I never left him as long as his life was in
danger. To pass those terrible hours at his bedside I wrote down what he
said, leaving spaces between his broken, seemingly unconnected phrases. It
became a kind of game, trying to put the pieces together, guessing, working
out the missing links. One night he mentioned your name several times.'

'Let's go back immediately and look at your notes!' I said.

He shook his head. 'Impossible, Mr Blake. He was my patient,

therefore, I'm afraid, it's a medical secret - despite the fact that I believe he
was talking to you.'

I decided to tell him the whole truth. I told him I was suspected of
stealing the diamond, and why, and that Dr Candy's memory could perhaps
clear my name. He listened patiently, even anxiously. 'I'm sorry to
disappoint you, Mr Blake,' he said as we reached a fork in the road, 'but not
one word about the diamond ever crossed his lips.'

'It's certain I took the diamond,' I said, 'but I did it without my own
knowledge. I have to be able to prove that somehow.' He became suddenly
still, looked at me very strangely, then took me by the arm. 'You have
travelled in the East, Mr Blake. You must know about the effects of opium
on human consciousness?'

I nodded. He invited me to sit down on a wall.

'I must now tell you a secret,' he said. 'Look at my face. Can you
believe I'm forty years old? No, obviously. My life is near its end, Mr
Blake. For ten years I've suffered from an incurable disease of the nerves.
Without opium the indescribable pain of it would - should have killed me
long ago. Yes, it is a powerful pain killer but even opium has its limit...' As
he spoke, I realized the horror his daily life must have been. 'Were your
nerves out of order this time last year?' he asked me. 'Were you restless, or
nervous?' I told him I was, that I had been sleeping badly night after night.
'Was the night of the birthday an exception? Try and remember.' I told him
it was the first night I had slept well since I had given up smoking - the
cause of my nervousness. He let go of my arm, as though at last seeing
something. 'I'm absolutely certain of one thing,' he said slowly. 'I know
what Dr Candy wanted to say to you. I have it in the notes I took at his
bedside.'

'Explain yourself!' I cried. 'Please, what do you mean?'

'I have a patient to see. Give me two hours, then call at Dr Candy's
house.' He hurried away.
 CHAPTER EIGHT

Opium

I returned to Fritzinghall. Two hours later Ezra Jennings was waiting

for me, sitting alone in a little bare room on the ground floor, the walls
covered with illustrations of horrible diseases. 'I have my notes ready for
you,' he said. 'But before we start, do you mind if I ask you one or two more
questions?'

'Ask me anything you like!' I replied.

'Do you remember having an argument with Dr Candy at the

birthday dinner - on the subject of his profession?' All that I could
remember was that I had stupidly and repeatedly attacked the art of
medicine - enough to anger even Dr Candy. 'Did you have any special
anxiety about the diamond at that time?' he asked.

'Yes. I knew it was the object of a conspiracy. I was extremely

worried about its safety.' I told him about the three Indians.

He handed me his notes. 'Read that in the light of my two questions,'

he said. 'You'll see not only that you took the diamond but that you did it in
a state of trance. You will also see that Dr Candy gave you a dose of opium
without you knowing - to disprove your stupid theories and to teach you a
lesson. If he hadn't fallen ill, he would have returned the next day and
acknowledged the trick he played on you. Miss Verinder would have heard
about it and the truth would have been discovered immediately. The opium
was secretly given to you in some way.

Now, read Dr Candy's words, which like a puzzle, I have completed

with my own, in capitals.'

I read them:
 I decided (TO TEACH) Mr Blake (A) lesson. He (SAYS HE) can't
sleep. (I) told him (HIS NERVES ARE) out of order. (HE) said
(MEDICINE IS) like a blind man (SEARCHING IN THE) dark. (I TOLD)
him medicine can (EASILY CURE) sleeplessness. (I GAVE HIM) forty
drops (OF OPIUM) without him knowing. (I WILL TELL) him tomorrow
morning.

'Now!' he said. 'Do you believe you were acting under the influence
of opium?'

'Yes,' I said, shaken by what I had read. 'I'm beginning to think I

must have been. But how does that help? How can I prove it?'

'Are you willing to try a daring experiment?' he asked.

'Tell me what to do!' I said impatiently.

'Do this,' he said. 'Steal the diamond, unconsciously, in a trance, for

a second time, and in the presence of witnesses.' He ignored my laughter. 'It
can be done! Listen, there is medical evidence to prove that everything we
think is recorded by the brain and can be recalled later - but we have
absolutely no memory or knowledge of this. It is subconscious. Do you
understand?' I nodded. 'Now, the common belief is that opium sends you to
sleep. This is only half true. I'm speaking to you now under the influence of
opium. It makes you lively and awake immediately after it has been taken,
then, later, it has a calming influence. The first effect produces rich
impressions in your mind, extraordinarily clear thoughts - your fears and
doubts about the diamond, for instance, were exaggerated into certainties
that pulled you to Miss Verinder's sitting-room. Later, back in your room, as
the second, calming action took effect, you fell into a deep sleep. The
experiment may enable you to remember what you did with the diamond
after you left Miss Verinder's room. You may remember where you hid it.'

I stopped him there. 'The diamond is in London now,' I said. 'And

nobody knows how it got there.' I told him about Luker.
 'All right,' he said. 'But the experiment may still throw some light on
how the stone got into someone else's hands. In order for it to succeed it is
extremely important to recreate exactly the same conditions as on the
birthday night.'

'Out of the question,' I said. 'Lady Verinder is dead. Mr Ablewhite is

in Europe.

'That doesn't matter! No, no, what I meant was that you must give
up smoking again. You must be in exactly the same nervous state. And of
course everything in the house must be the same as on the night of the
birthday.'

'Perhaps, but it's Rachel's house now. She'll never agree to it.'

'Let me write to her,' he said. 'I'll tell her everything.' He pressed my

hand gently. 'What do you think?'

I agreed.

It was then the 15th of June. The experiment has now been tried. I
will now pass the pen to Ezra Jennings. He will tell you the result.
 FOURTH NARRATIVE

From the Diary of Ezra Jennings

1849 - June 15th. Terrible pain all day. I wrote a letter to Miss
Verinder.

June 16th - Woke late after a terrible night - yesterday's opium

produced awful nightmares. A return of the pain at dawn. It was late
morning before I could visit Mr Blake. He had had a very restless night.
'Exactly what happened last year when I gave up smoking!' he complained.
I advised him to get some fresh air. He told me he had written to Mr Bruff,
his lawyer. I left him to go and see my patients, feeling oddly happy. I feel
such a contrast between the way this charming young man treats me and the
merciless distrust of everyone else. Everyone except poor Dr Candy, of
course. I owe him everything.

June 17th - In the night, Death came whispering around my bed

again. Miss Verinder's reply arrived in the morning. A charming letter! She
sees no need for the experiment, saying my letter is proof enough for her
that Mr Blake is innocent. She even blames herself for not having suspected
some kind of trick before! Nevertheless, she asks me to tell him that we
have her permission to use the house for the experiment. She has written to
Mr Betteredge, asking him to prepare the house, and even offers to be one
of the witnesses. I believe she wants to be there to tell him, before he goes
through with the experiment, that she loves him and that there is no need to
prove himself. She declares that she has always loved him, even during the
last year. Is it possible that you, Ezra Jennings, before you go, may bring
these two fine young people back together?

Two o'clock - I have just returned from my medical visits. Mr

Blake's condition is the same: a night of broken sleep, loss of appetite,
nervousness. I told him everything he needed to know about Miss
Verinder's reply. 'She agrees simply out of common politeness!' he replied.
'But she keeps her own opinion.'
 Five o'clock - I have written to Miss Verinder.

June 18th - More horrible pain in the early morning. I had to return
to the opium for the hundredth time. It was one o'clock before I could drag
myself to the hotel. Mr Betteredge was with Mr Blake when I arrived. Mr
Blake had slept badly again. He had received a letter from Mr Bruff, saying
he totally disapproves of the experiment, and that he could see better magic
shows in London. But Mr Blake was determined to go through with the
experiment. I discussed the preparations with Mr Betteredge. It isn't going
to be easy - the house has been shut up for a year.

June 19th - A letter from Miss Verinder, agreeing to my

arrangements.

June 20th - Mr Blake was extremely nervous - he is now continually

restless at night. Sergeant Cuff wrote to him from Ireland saying that
because of Lady Verinder's generosity towards him he agrees to help Mr
Franklin in any way he can. I advised him to inform the Sergeant of
everything that had happened and invite him to be present during the
experiment.

June 21st - Mr Blake has had his worst night yet.

June 22nd - The house will be ready tomorrow. There is nothing to

do now except wait until Monday and watch Mr Blake carefully. I was glad
to hear that Mr Bruff has agreed to come. He is strongly against the
experiment and therefore will be a valuable witness. If we convince him we
can convince anyone.

June 24th - Mr Blake and I went for a drive today. The fresh air
calmed both our nerves. I had more terrible pain last night.

June 25th, Monday - At last! The day of the experiment.

Seven o'clock - We're now going to eat. After dinner I'm going to
make conversation about the Moonstone. When I've filled his mind with it
I'll give him the first dose. My notes inform me that Dr Candy gave him
forty drops - quite a large amount.
 Ten o'clock - Miss Verinder and Mr Bruff arrived together an hour
ago. She was shocked, of course, by my appearance, but she hid it better
than most. 'I can't treat you like a stranger, Mr Jennings,' she said warmly.
'Your letters have made me so happy.' I felt a wave of pleasure go through
me. 'Where is he now?' she asked. I told her I had already accompanied him
to his room. She went straight to hers. I went upstairs to Mr Blake.

'When are you going to give me the opium?' he asked. It was not yet
ten o'clock. Dr Candy could not have possibly given him the dose before
eleven. I told him I would keep him company until then. We talked for a
while and now I sit writing while he reads a novel. It is now nearly eleven.
I'm so excited that not even the pain affects me!

Two o'clock a.m.- The experiment is now over. This is what

happened. At eleven I rang the bell for Betteredge and told Mr Blake to get
ready for bed. Betteredge and I went and knocked on Mr Bruff's bedroom
door. I asked the lawyer to be present when I prepared the opium, and then
remain with us in Mr Blake's room. He agreed reluctantly, saying he had
more important things to do, making a show of gathering up his legal
papers. We then went to see Miss Verinder.

She was pale and restless, striding up and down. She asked me how
he was, how long the opium would take to work. I said roughly an hour.
She agreed to wait in her bedroom, exactly as before. I measured out the
dose, mixed it with water, then got out the piece of glass that was to be the
diamond. She showed me the drawer to put it in. Betteredge and Bruff
witnessed everything. We then left Miss Verinder and returned to Mr Blake.
They saw me give him the dose and tell him to lie down and wait. We sat
down to wait with him. I encouraged Mr Blake to talk to me, always
bringing the conversation back to the diamond. We talked about bringing it
from London, the Indians, putting it in the bank in Fritzinghall, taking it out
again. Little by little the opium began to do its work. His eyes began to
shine, sweat appeared on his forehead. Gradually his talk lost its sense.
Finally, he became silent. Then suddenly he sat up in bed. Ten minutes
passed. Nothing happened. He began to talk to himself.

At twenty past twelve he put one leg out of bed and said, 'I wish I'd
never taken it out of the bank. The Indians may be hidden in the house.
How can I sleep? - the diamond isn't even locked up.' He got up, then - to
my surprise - lay down again. I had a horrible feeling the experiment had
failed, but then he slowly got up again. We waited, hidden behind the
curtains. He crossed the room, opened the door and went out.

We followed him along the corridor. Without looking back, he went

straight to Miss Verinder's rooms, opened her sitting - room door and went
in. He went to the middle of the room and looked round him. The door of
Miss Verinder's bedroom was slightly open. I could see the dim outline of
her white dress just inside.

After a minute he went to the Indian cabinet, opened drawers and

found the diamond. He took it out and stood still again. What would he do
next? Would he leave the room and show us what he did with the diamond
when he had returned to his room? No. He let the diamond drop out of his
hand. It fell by the door, visible to him and to us. For a long time he looked
down at it emptily, until suddenly his head sank down on to his chest. It was
too late. The calming action of the drug had begun.

'It's all over,' I said. 'He'll probably sleep for the next six hours.' We
gathered around him. 'He can sleep here on the sofa,' Miss Verinder said.
'I'll watch over him.' We placed him on the sofa, and for the rest of the night
she and I kept watch over him in silence. The light of day grew in the room
and still he never moved. Towards six I felt my pain coming back and made
an excuse to leave the room. Luckily, it was not a long attack, and I was
soon able to return.

It is now eight o'clock. He will soon wake up. I am going to leave

them alone together.

Eleven o'clock - The house is empty again. They all went back to
London by the ten o'clock train.

Mr Blake will write and tell me what happens in London. Miss

Verinder has invited me to stay here in the autumn when they return - for
their marriage, no doubt. My patients are waiting so I must hurry.
 FIFTH NARRATIVE

The story continued by Franklin Blake

I woke that morning ignorant of what I had said or done after the
drug first took effect. I opened my eyes and looked into Rachel's.

When we arrived in London, a boy called Gooseberry met Bruff at

the station. After listening to him, Bruff said he had to leave immediately
on important business. He pulled me to a taxi and told the driver to hurry to
Lombard Street. 'News of Luker,' he said. 'He was seen leaving his house
accompanied by two policemen in plain clothes.'

Gooseberry came into the crowded bank with us. Two men came up
to Bruff as soon as we entered. 'Have you seen him?' asked the lawyer.
They said Luker had arrived half an hour ago and gone into an inner office.
'Let's wait then,' Bruff said.

I couldn't see any Indians anywhere. 'They must have a spy here,'
Bruff said. Gooseberry pulled on his coat. Luker was leaving an office with
his two guards. 'Watch him,' Bruff whispered. 'If he passes the stone to
anyone he will do it here.' Luker went straight to the door without noticing
us. In the crowd I saw his hand move suddenly as he passed a short, fat
man. At the door his guards placed themselves on either side of him. They
left, followed closely by one of Bruff's men.

I pointed out the man to Bruff. 'Did you see anything?' I said. He
shook his head. Neither Bruff's second man nor Gooseberry were anywhere
to be seen. 'What do we do now?' I asked.

'Come back to my office and wait,' he replied. Bruff's second man

was waiting there when we arrived. 'I'm sorry, sir,' he said. 'I was sure I saw
him pass something to an elderly gentleman. It turns out he's a respectable
doctor in Westminster.'

Bruff asked him where Gooseberry was. He didn't know.

 As we were having supper at Bruff's office, the man who followed
Luker returned. Luker had gone straight home and not gone out again. His
guards had left later. 'He would never have sent them home if he had the
stone,' said Bruff. The house was being carefully watched. There had been
no sign of the Indians.

We waited until it was time for Bruff to go home. I returned to

Rachel, leaving my address in case the boy returned.

When I got home after midnight my servant informed me that

Gooseberry had called. He would return early the next day.

As I was having breakfast there was a knock on my door. Expecting

Gooseberry, I was surprised when Sergeant Cuff entered. 'I got back from
Ireland last night,' he said.

'I presume you've come to get back your reputation,' I said.

'I admit I made a mess of the case,' he replied unwillingly. 'But no,
sir, I have come to return Lady Verinder's great generosity.'

I told him everything. To my surprise he took Ezra Jennings's trance

theory extremely seriously. He agreed with Jennings that I must have taken
the stone back to my room, but not that I had hidden it there. 'Well, what did
I do then?' I asked.

'Don't you have any idea?' he replied. I shook my head. He went to

my desk, wrote something and put the paper in an envelope. 'Open this
when you know the truth,' he said. 'I made a mistake last year, but not this
year.' I put the letter in my pocket. 'Now,' he said, 'let's wait and see if
"Gooseberry" turns up.'

Gooseberry arrived at ten o'clock. As soon as he heard Cuff's name

his huge eyes never left the famous detective. 'Come, my lad,' said the
Sergeant, 'tell us all. Where did you go?'

'I followed a tall man with a black beard, dressed like a sailor. He
left the bank in a hurry and called a taxi. I ran after it and hung on behind.'
Bruff's secretary arrived at this point and I had to leave the room. Before I
could return Cuff came hurrying out with Gooseberry. 'Quick!' Cuff said.
'Get a taxi immediately!' Five minutes later we were on our way east, with
Gooseberry explaining to me what happened. 'The taxi went to the Port of
London, sir. The sailor with the black beard got out and spoke to an officer
of the Rotterdam steamboat. It was leaving next morning and no passengers
could come on board until then. Then he left the port. In the street, I noticed
a man dressed like a mechanic walking on the opposite side of the road,
watching the sailor. The sailor went into an eating-house. I waited outside,
watching the mechanic. After a minute, a taxi stopped next to him. A dark-
faced person inside spoke to him. Then the taxi moved slowly on down the
street and the mechanic crossed the road and went into the eating-house. I
waited a bit then went in after him. I only had two pence, sir, but I had a
good meal!'

'What did you see in the eating-house?' I asked.

'The sailor reading a newspaper at one table, the mechanic reading a

newspaper at another. It was dusk before the sailor got up and left, looking
suspiciously around him out in the street. He didn't seem sure about where
to go next. Me and the mechanic followed him to Lower Thames Street
where he stopped in front of a pub, "The Wheel of Fortune". I followed him
in, followed by the mechanic. It was very crowded. The sailor asked for a
bed. No, the landlord said, they were full. A barmaid corrected him: Room
Ten was empty. I noticed, just before a waiter took the sailor upstairs to his
room, that the mechanic had disappeared. I waited. The landlord was called
for. I heard angry voices upstairs. The mechanic appeared at the top of the
stairs, looking very drunk. The landlord pulled him downstairs, arguing
with him, and threw him out. It seems he'd been discovered in Number Ten.
I noticed that as soon as he was outside he wasn't drunk anymore. I waited.
Nothing else happened, so I decided to go back to Mr Bruff's office. As I
left I noticed the mechanic on the other side of the street, staring up at a lit
window in the roof. '

'The Indians didn't risk being seen at the bank,' said Cuff. 'They
employed someone else. In "The Wheel of Fortune" their man hears the
number of the sailor's room (the Indians would certainly want a description
of the room). He was found in the room when the sailor went up, and
pretended to be drunk. As for what happened after Gooseberry left... we can
only hope.' When we entered 'The Wheel of Fortune' it was clear that
something was wrong. The barmaid said the landlord was upstairs and was
not to be bothered. Sergeant Cuff ignored this and went up. The barmaid
called out and the landlord, obviously in a temper, appeared in front of us at
the top of the stairs. The words 'I am Sergeant Cuff,' had a magical effect. 'I
have some enquiries to make, sir,' said the Sergeant, 'about a dark man
dressed as a sailor who slept here last night.'

'Good God!' exclaimed the landlord. 'That's the man who's upsetting
the whole house at the moment.'

'Can we see him, please?' asked the Sergeant.

'Nobody's been able to see him since seven this morning - that was
the time he asked to be called. The door's locked, there's been no reply from
inside-'

'Could he leave the room in any way other than the door?'
interrupted the Sergeant.

'The room is under the roof There's a window, leading on to the

roof... You don't think he's left without paying, Sergeant, do you?' As he
spoke, a carpenter arrived to open the door.

It wasn't easy - a piece of furniture had been placed against it inside.

When the door was finally pushed open we saw the man, dressed, lying on
the bed inside with a pillow over his face.

Sergeant Cuff removed it. The man's coffee-coloured face was

perfectly calm, his eyes wide open. He was dead. I felt a soft pull on my
coat-tail. 'Look, sir!' whispered Gooseberry, pointing to a little wooden box,
open, empty. There was a torn sheet of paper inside, with the Lombard
Street Bank's name on it.

Inside this envelope is a small wooden box containing an extremely

valuable object, left in the bank's care by Mr Septimus Luker. The box can
only be removed from the bank by Mr Luker himself and by no other
person.

'The man's face is disguised,' said Cuff. 'Look!' He pointed to a thin

line of white just below the man's hair. 'Let's see what's under this,' he said,
taking a handful of the man's hair. My nerves were not strong enough. I had
to turn away.

'He's pulled off his hair!' whispered Gooseberry. There was a pause,
then a cry of astonishment from the landlord. Cuff asked him for water and
a towel. 'He's washing off his face!' the boy went on. I heard footsteps. Cuff
appeared beside me.

'Before you look round, sir,' he said, 'open the envelope I gave you
this morning.' I opened it. 'Read the name, Mr Blake, written inside.' I read
the name, looked round, and saw him lying on the bed, half of his make-up
washed off. It was Godfrey Ablewhite.
 SIXTH NARRATIVE

Contributed by Sergeant Cuff

First of all, what happened to the diamond? The letter I received

from Mr Murthwaite yesterday leaves little doubt. Writing from India, the
explorer informed me that a new temple of the Moon-God is being built in
Benares. The work began shortly after the arrival of three priests in the city,
and is being organized by them. At a ceremony to bless the site of the
temple, the three men announced that 'The Eye of the Moon has returned.'

As for the dead man, later investigations revealed that Mr

Ablewhite's life had two sides: side A (the public one) shows a gentleman
of considerable reputation as a speaker at charitable meetings, a man of
great administrative abilities, who managed various charitable societies;
side B (the hidden one) reveals a man of pleasure with a fine house in the
suburbs (not bought in his name), and with a woman (not with his name
either) living in luxury in that house - surrounded by pictures by great
artists, jewels, the finest horses and carriages, all worth a small fortune -
somebody else's fortune. Which brings us to Mr Godfrey Ablewhite's
motive for stealing the Moonstone.

My investigations revealed that as a lawyer he had been trusted to

take care of twenty thousand pounds, belonging to a young gentleman, an
orphan. The young man would inherit the whole sum on his eighteenth
birthday, in February 1850. Until then, Mr Godfrey, had to continue paying
him six hundred pounds half-yearly (on Midsummer's day and on Christmas
Day). The motive was simple. Exactly as Mr Bruff suspected: he needed
money (a lot of money) quickly.

Mr Ablewhite's father informed me that the day before Miss

Verinder's birthday (two days before Midsummer's day) his son asked him
for a loan of three hundred pounds. Mr Ablewhite refused. Godfrey
Ablewhite had had to find three hundred pounds by the 24th June, and
twenty thousand pounds by the following February. Otherwise he was a
ruined man.
 The following night, Dr Candy played Mr Franklin a little practical
joke. He trusted the administration of the dose of opium to Ablewhite (the
lawyer confessed to this in circumstances which I will come to later). You
will remember Ablewhite (who had also suffered from Mr Blake's tongue
that evening) joined Betteredge in trying to persuade Mr Blake to take a
little whisky before bed. Let us now direct our attention to Luker's house in
London.

Late on the evening of 23rd June 1848, Luker received a visit from
Ablewhite. You can imagine his surprise when Ablewhite produced the
Moonstone. Luker was extremely curious to know how the famous stone
had come into the lawyer's possession. Ablewhite told a story which only
sharpened Luker's suspicion. Desperate, Ablewhite finally told the truth.

His money troubles had kept him awake on the night of the birthday.
He had heard Blake talking to himself in his bedroom and had looked in to
see what was the matter. He saw Blake, candle in hand, coming towards the
door. He followed Blake to Miss Verinder's sitting-room, saw him take the
diamond, and also saw Miss Verinder watching from her bedroom. Blake
returned to his bedroom with the diamond, and the next morning had
forgotten everything that happened.

The next morning, Miss Verinder's behaviour showed that she had
decided to remain silent. Waiting to see what would happen that morning,
Ablewhite gradually realized he could keep the diamond - without any fear
of being suspected. The Moonstone stood between him and ruin. It didn't
take him long to make up his mind. He went to London and made a deal
with Luker, and with the money, saved himself.

When Mr Ablewhite went abroad after inheriting five thousand

pounds from the old lady, he went to Amsterdam. I have discovered from
the Dutch police that he made arrangements for a diamond to be cut up into
smaller stones, at a later date. Strangely, it was that five thousand pounds
that led Ablewhite to his death because it enabled him to pay back Luker
and recover the Moonstone.

I will only add one more detail to Mr Blake's description of the

circumstances of Ablewhite's death. The lock of the window in the roof was
broken - no doubt by the 'mechanic' - so enabling a trained, athletic person
to open it from the outside, descend noiselessly and... I will leave the rest to
your imagination.

- THE END -

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