The Moonstone - Page 330/404

Admiration of the ingenuity which had woven this smooth and finished

texture out of the ravelled skein was naturally the first impression

that I felt, on handing the manuscript back to Ezra Jennings. He

modestly interrupted the first few words in which my sense of surprise

expressed itself, by asking me if the conclusion which he had drawn from

his notes was also the conclusion at which my own mind had arrived.

"Do you believe as I believe," he said, "that you were acting under the

influence of the laudanum in doing all that you did, on the night of

Miss Verinder's birthday, in Lady Verinder's house?"

"I am too ignorant of the influence of laudanum to have an opinion of

my own," I answered. "I can only follow your opinion, and feel convinced

that you are right."

"Very well. The next question is this. You are convinced; and I am

convinced--how are we to carry our conviction to the minds of other

people?"

I pointed to the two manuscripts, lying on the table between us. Ezra

Jennings shook his head.

"Useless, Mr. Blake! Quite useless, as they stand now for three

unanswerable reasons. In the first place, those notes have been taken

under circumstances entirely out of the experience of the mass of

mankind. Against them, to begin with! In the second place, those notes

represent a medical and metaphysical theory. Against them, once more! In

the third place, those notes are of my making; there is nothing but my

assertion to the contrary, to guarantee that they are not fabrications.

Remember what I told you on the moor--and ask yourself what my assertion

is worth. No! my notes have but one value, looking to the verdict of the

world outside. Your innocence is to be vindicated; and they show how it

can be done. We must put our conviction to the proof--and You are the

man to prove it!"

"How?" I asked.

He leaned eagerly nearer to me across the table that divided us.

"Are you willing to try a bold experiment?"

"I will do anything to clear myself of the suspicion that rests on me

now."

"Will you submit to some personal inconvenience for a time?"

"To any inconvenience, no matter what it may be."

"Will you be guided implicitly by my advice? It may expose you to the

ridicule of fools; it may subject you to the remonstrances of friends

whose opinions you are bound to respect."

"Tell me what to do!" I broke out impatiently. "And, come what may, I'll

do it."