I can hardly tell whether I was more startled or distressed at hearing
him say that. If I had been younger, I might have confessed as much to
Mr. Franklin. But when you are old, you acquire one excellent habit. In
cases where you don't see your way clearly, you hold your tongue.
"She came in here with a ring I dropped in my bed-room," Mr. Franklin
went on. "When I had thanked her, of course I expected her to go.
Instead of that, she stood opposite to me at the table, looking at me in
the oddest manner--half frightened, and half familiar--I couldn't make
it out. 'This is a strange thing about the Diamond, sir,' she said, in a
curiously sudden, headlong way. I said, 'Yes, it was,' and wondered what
was coming next. Upon my honour, Betteredge, I think she must be wrong
in the head! She said, 'They will never find the Diamond, sir, will
they? No! nor the person who took it--I'll answer for that.' She
actually nodded and smiled at me! Before I could ask her what she meant,
we heard your step outside. I suppose she was afraid of your catching
her here. At any rate, she changed colour, and left the room. What on
earth does it mean?"
I could not bring myself to tell him the girl's story, even then. It
would have been almost as good as telling him that she was the thief.
Besides, even if I had made a clean breast of it, and even supposing
she was the thief, the reason why she should let out her secret to Mr.
Franklin, of all the people in the world, would have been still as far
to seek as ever.
"I can't bear the idea of getting the poor girl into a scrape, merely
because she has a flighty way with her, and talks very strangely," Mr.
Franklin went on. "And yet if she had said to, the Superintendent what
she said to me, fool as he is, I'm afraid----" He stopped there, and
left the rest unspoken.
"The best way, sir," I said, "will be for me to say two words privately
to my mistress about it at the first opportunity. My lady has a very
friendly interest in Rosanna; and the girl may only have been forward
and foolish, after all. When there's a mess of any kind in a house, sir,
the women-servants like to look at the gloomy side--it gives the poor
wretches a kind of importance in their own eyes. If there's anybody
ill, trust the women for prophesying that the person will die. If it's
a jewel lost, trust them for prophesying that it will never be found
again."
This view (which I am bound to say, I thought a probable view myself,
on reflection) seemed to relieve Mr. Franklin mightily: he folded up his
telegram, and dismissed the subject. On my way to the stables, to order
the pony-chaise, I looked in at the servants' hall, where they were at
dinner. Rosanna Spearman was not among them. On inquiry, I found that
she had been suddenly taken ill, and had gone up-stairs to her own room
to lie down.