The Moonstone - Page 309/404

"I have often thought of you, Mr. Blake," he said; "and I am heartily

glad to see you again at last. If there is anything I can do for you,

pray command my services, sir--pray command my services!"

He said those few commonplace words with needless hurry and eagerness,

and with a curiosity to know what had brought me to Yorkshire, which

he was perfectly--I might say childishly--incapable of concealing from

notice.

With the object that I had in view, I had of course foreseen the

necessity of entering into some sort of personal explanation, before I

could hope to interest people, mostly strangers to me, in doing their

best to assist my inquiry. On the journey to Frizinghall I had arranged

what my explanation was to be--and I seized the opportunity now offered

to me of trying the effect of it on Mr. Candy.

"I was in Yorkshire, the other day, and I am in Yorkshire again now, on

rather a romantic errand," I said. "It is a matter, Mr. Candy, in which

the late Lady Verinder's friends all took some interest. You remember

the mysterious loss of the Indian Diamond, now nearly a year since?

Circumstances have lately happened which lead to the hope that it may

yet be found--and I am interesting myself, as one of the family, in

recovering it. Among the obstacles in my way, there is the necessity of

collecting again all the evidence which was discovered at the time, and

more if possible. There are peculiarities in this case which make it

desirable to revive my recollection of everything that happened in the

house, on the evening of Miss Verinder's birthday. And I venture to

appeal to her late mother's friends who were present on that occasion,

to lend me the assistance of their memories----"

I had got as far as that in rehearsing my explanatory phrases, when

I was suddenly checked by seeing plainly in Mr. Candy's face that my

experiment on him was a total failure.

The little doctor sat restlessly picking at the points of his fingers

all the time I was speaking. His dim watery eyes were fixed on my face

with an expression of vacant and wistful inquiry very painful to see.

What he was thinking of, it was impossible to divine. The one thing

clearly visible was that I had failed, after the first two or three

words, in fixing his attention. The only chance of recalling him to

himself appeared to lie in changing the subject. I tried a new topic

immediately.

"So much," I said, gaily, "for what brings me to Frizinghall! Now, Mr.

Candy, it's your turn. You sent me a message by Gabriel Betteredge----"

He left off picking at his fingers, and suddenly brightened up.

"Yes! yes! yes!" he exclaimed eagerly. "That's it! I sent you a

message!"