The Moonstone - Page 172/404

Information of both outrages was communicated to the police, and the

needful investigations were pursued, I believe, with great energy.

The authorities held that a robbery had been planned, on insufficient

information received by the thieves. They had been plainly not sure

whether Mr. Luker had, or had not, trusted the transmission of his

precious gem to another person; and poor polite Mr. Godfrey had paid the

penalty of having been seen accidentally speaking to him. Add to this,

that Mr. Godfrey's absence from our Monday evening meeting had been

occasioned by a consultation of the authorities, at which he was

requested to assist--and all the explanations required being now

given, I may proceed with the simpler story of my own little personal

experiences in Montagu Square.

I was punctual to the luncheon hour on Tuesday. Reference to my diary

shows this to have been a chequered day--much in it to be devoutly

regretted, much in it to be devoutly thankful for.

Dear Aunt Verinder received me with her usual grace and kindness. But I

noticed, after a little while, that something was wrong. Certain anxious

looks escaped my aunt, all of which took the direction of her daughter.

I never see Rachel myself without wondering how it can be that so

insignificant-looking a person should be the child of such distinguished

parents as Sir John and Lady Verinder. On this occasion, however, she

not only disappointed--she really shocked me. There was an absence of

all lady-like restraint in her language and manner most painful to

see. She was possessed by some feverish excitement which made her

distressingly loud when she laughed, and sinfully wasteful and

capricious in what she ate and drank at lunch. I felt deeply for

her poor mother, even before the true state of the case had been

confidentially made known to me.

Luncheon over, my aunt said: "Remember what the doctor told you, Rachel,

about quieting yourself with a book after taking your meals."

"I'll go into the library, mamma," she answered. "But if Godfrey

calls, mind I am told of it. I am dying for more news of him, after

his adventure in Northumberland Street." She kissed her mother on the

forehead, and looked my way. "Good-bye, Clack," she said, carelessly.

Her insolence roused no angry feeling in me; I only made a private

memorandum to pray for her.

When we were left by ourselves, my aunt told me the whole horrible story

of the Indian Diamond, which, I am happy to know, it is not necessary to

repeat here. She did not conceal from me that she would have preferred

keeping silence on the subject. But when her own servants all knew

of the loss of the Moonstone, and when some of the circumstances had

actually found their way into the newspapers--when strangers were

speculating whether there was any connection between what had

happened at Lady Verinder's country-house, and what had happened in

Northumberland Street and Alfred Place--concealment was not to be

thought of; and perfect frankness became a necessity as well as a

virtue.