The Moonstone - Page 88/404

Mr. Franklin composed himself, and came back with an effort from Miss

Rachel to the matter in hand.

"I think I do understand," he said. "The more we narrow the question of

time, the more we also narrow the field of inquiry."

"That's it, sir," said the Sergeant. "Did you notice your work here, on

the Wednesday afternoon, after you had done it?"

Mr. Franklin shook his head, and answered, "I can't say I did."

"Did you?" inquired Sergeant Cuff, turning to me.

"I can't say I did either, sir."

"Who was the last person in the room, the last thing on Wednesday

night?"

"Miss Rachel, I suppose, sir."

Mr. Franklin struck in there, "Or possibly your daughter, Betteredge."

He turned to Sergeant Cuff, and explained that my daughter was Miss

Verinder's maid.

"Mr. Betteredge, ask your daughter to step up. Stop!" says the Sergeant,

taking me away to the window, out of earshot, "Your Superintendent

here," he went on, in a whisper, "has made a pretty full report to me

of the manner in which he has managed this case. Among other things,

he has, by his own confession, set the servants' backs up. It's very

important to smooth them down again. Tell your daughter, and tell the

rest of them, these two things, with my compliments: First, that I have

no evidence before me, yet, that the Diamond has been stolen; I only

know that the Diamond has been lost. Second, that my business here with

the servants is simply to ask them to lay their heads together and help

me to find it."

My experience of the women-servants, when Superintendent Seegrave laid

his embargo on their rooms, came in handy here.

"May I make so bold, Sergeant, as to tell the women a third thing?"

I asked. "Are they free (with your compliments) to fidget up and

downstairs, and whisk in and out of their bed-rooms, if the fit takes

them?"

"Perfectly free," said the Sergeant.

"THAT will smooth them down, sir," I remarked, "from the cook to the

scullion."

"Go, and do it at once, Mr. Betteredge."

I did it in less than five minutes. There was only one difficulty when I

came to the bit about the bed-rooms. It took a pretty stiff exertion

of my authority, as chief, to prevent the whole of the female household

from following me and Penelope up-stairs, in the character of volunteer

witnesses in a burning fever of anxiety to help Sergeant Cuff.

The Sergeant seemed to approve of Penelope. He became a trifle less

dreary; and he looked much as he had looked when he noticed the white

musk rose in the flower-garden. Here is my daughter's evidence, as drawn

off from her by the Sergeant. She gave it, I think, very prettily--but,

there! she is my child all over: nothing of her mother in her; Lord

bless you, nothing of her mother in her!