CHAPTER XIV
The nearest way to the garden, on going out of my lady's sitting-room,was by the shrubbery path, which you already know of. For the sake ofyour better understanding of what is now to come, I may add to this,that the shrubbery path was Mr. Franklin's favourite walk. When he wasout in the grounds, and when we failed to find him anywhere else, wegenerally found him here.
I am afraid I must own that I am rather an obstinate old man. The morefirmly Sergeant Cuff kept his thoughts shut up from me, the morefirmly I persisted in trying to look in at them. As we turned into theshrubbery path, I attempted to circumvent him in another way.
"As things are now," I said, "if I was in your place, I should be at mywits' end."
"If you were in my place," answered the Sergeant, "you would have formedan opinion--and, as things are now, any doubt you might previously havefelt about your own conclusions would be completely set at rest. Nevermind for the present what those conclusions are, Mr. Betteredge. Ihaven't brought you out here to draw me like a badger; I have broughtyou out here to ask for some information. You might have given it to meno doubt, in the house, instead of out of it. But doors and listenershave a knack of getting together; and, in my line of life, we cultivatea healthy taste for the open air."
Who was to circumvent THIS man? I gave in--and waited as patiently as Icould to hear what was coming next.
"We won't enter into your young lady's motives," the Sergeant went on;"we will only say it's a pity she declines to assist me, because, byso doing, she makes this investigation more difficult than it mightotherwise have been. We must now try to solve the mystery of the smearon the door--which, you may take my word for it, means the mystery ofthe Diamond also--in some other way. I have decided to see the servants,and to search their thoughts and actions, Mr. Betteredge, instead ofsearching their wardrobes. Before I begin, however, I want to ask youa question or two. You are an observant man--did you notice anythingstrange in any of the servants (making due allowance, of course, forfright and fluster), after the loss of the Diamond was found out? Anyparticular quarrel among them? Any one of them not in his or her usualspirits? Unexpectedly out of temper, for instance? or unexpectedly takenill?"
I had just time to think of Rosanna Spearman's sudden illness atyesterday's dinner--but not time to make any answer--when I saw SergeantCuff's eyes suddenly turn aside towards the shrubbery; and I heard himsay softly to himself, "Hullo!"
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"A touch of the rheumatics in my back," said the Sergeant, in a loudvoice, as if he wanted some third person to hear us. "We shall have achange in the weather before long."
A few steps further brought us to the corner of the house. Turning offsharp to the right, we entered on the terrace, and went down, by thesteps in the middle, into the garden below. Sergeant Cuff stopped there,in the open space, where we could see round us on every side.
"About that young person, Rosanna Spearman?" he said. "It isn't verylikely, with her personal appearance, that she has got a lover. But,for the girl's own sake, I must ask you at once whether SHE has providedherself with a sweetheart, poor wretch, like the rest of them?"
What on earth did he mean, under present circumstances, by putting sucha question to me as that? I stared at him, instead of answering him.
"I saw Rosanna Spearman hiding in the shrubbery as we went by," said theSergeant.
"When you said 'Hullo'?"
"Yes--when I said 'Hullo!' If there's a sweetheart in the case, thehiding doesn't much matter. If there isn't--as things are in thishouse--the hiding is a highly suspicious circumstance, and it will be mypainful duty to act on it accordingly."
What, in God's name, was I to say to him? I knew the shrubbery was Mr.Franklin's favourite walk; I knew he would most likely turn that waywhen he came back from the station; I knew that Penelope had over andover again caught her fellow-servant hanging about there, and had alwaysdeclared to me that Rosanna's object was to attract Mr. Franklin'sattention. If my daughter was right, she might well have been lying inwait for Mr. Franklin's return when the Sergeant noticed her. I was putbetween the two difficulties of mentioning Penelope's fanciful notionas if it was mine, or of leaving an unfortunate creature to suffer theconsequences, the very serious consequences, of exciting the suspicionof Sergeant Cuff. Out of pure pity for the girl--on my soul and mycharacter, out of pure pity for the girl--I gave the Sergeant thenecessary explanations, and told him that Rosanna had been mad enough toset her heart on Mr. Franklin Blake.
Sergeant Cuff never laughed. On the few occasions when anything amusedhim, he curled up a little at the corners of the lips, nothing more. Hecurled up now.
"Hadn't you better say she's mad enough to be an ugly girl and onlya servant?" he asked. "The falling in love with a gentleman of Mr.Franklin Blake's manners and appearance doesn't seem to me to be themaddest part of her conduct by any means. However, I'm glad the thing iscleared up: it relieves one's mind to have things cleared up. Yes,I'll keep it a secret, Mr. Betteredge. I like to be tender to humaninfirmity--though I don't get many chances of exercising that virtue inmy line of life. You think Mr. Franklin Blake hasn't got a suspicion ofthe girl's fancy for him? Ah! he would have found it out fast enough ifshe had been nice-looking. The ugly women have a bad time of it in thisworld; let's hope it will be made up to them in another. You have got anice garden here, and a well-kept lawn. See for yourself how much betterthe flowers look with grass about them instead of gravel. No, thank you.I won't take a rose. It goes to my heart to break them off the stem.Just as it goes to your heart, you know, when there's something wrong inthe servants' hall. Did you notice anything you couldn't account for inany of the servants when the loss of the Diamond was first found out?"
I had got on very fairly well with Sergeant Cuff so far. But the slynesswith which he slipped in that last question put me on my guard. In plainEnglish, I didn't at all relish the notion of helping his inquiries,when those inquiries took him (in the capacity of snake in the grass)among my fellow-servants.
"I noticed nothing," I said, "except that we all lost our headstogether, myself included."
"Oh," says the Sergeant, "that's all you have to tell me, is it?"
I answered, with (as I flattered myself) an unmoved countenance, "Thatis all."
Sergeant Cuff's dismal eyes looked me hard in the face.
"Mr. Betteredge," he said, "have you any objection to oblige me byshaking hands? I have taken an extraordinary liking to you."
(Why he should have chosen the exact moment when I was deceiving him togive me that proof of his good opinion, is beyond all comprehension! Ifelt a little proud--I really did feel a little proud of having been onetoo many at last for the celebrated Cuff!)
We went back to the house; the Sergeant requesting that I would give hima room to himself, and then send in the servants (the indoor servantsonly), one after another, in the order of their rank, from first tolast.
I showed Sergeant Cuff into my own room, and then called the servantstogether in the hall. Rosanna Spearman appeared among them, much asusual. She was as quick in her way as the Sergeant in his, and I suspectshe had heard what he said to me about the servants in general, justbefore he discovered her. There she was, at any rate, looking as if shehad never heard of such a place as the shrubbery in her life.
I sent them in, one by one, as desired. The cook was the first to enterthe Court of Justice, otherwise my room. She remained but a short time.Report, on coming out: "Sergeant Cuff is depressed in his spirits; butSergeant Cuff is a perfect gentleman." My lady's own maid followed.Remained much longer. Report, on coming out: "If Sergeant Cuff doesn'tbelieve a respectable woman, he might keep his opinion to himself, atany rate!" Penelope went next. Remained only a moment or two. Report,on coming out: "Sergeant Cuff is much to be pitied. He must have beencrossed in love, father, when he was a young man." The first housemaidfollowed Penelope. Remained, like my lady's maid, a long time. Report,on coming out: "I didn't enter her ladyship's service,
Mr. Betteredge,to be doubted to my face by a low police-officer!" Rosanna Spearman wentnext. Remained longer than any of them. No report on coming out--deadsilence, and lips as pale as ashes. Samuel, the footman, followedRosanna. Remained a minute or two. Report, on coming out: "Whoeverblacks Sergeant Cuff's boots ought to be ashamed of himself." Nancy,the kitchen-maid, went last. Remained a minute or two. Report, on comingout: "Sergeant Cuff has a heart; HE doesn't cut jokes, Mr. Betteredge,with a poor hard-working girl."
Going into the Court of Justice, when it was all over, to hear ifthere were any further commands for me, I found the Sergeant at his oldtrick--looking out of window, and whistling "The Last Rose of Summer" tohimself.
"Any discoveries, sir?" I inquired.
"If Rosanna Spearman asks leave to go out," said the Sergeant, "let thepoor thing go; but let me know first."
I might as well have held my tongue about Rosanna and Mr. Franklin! Itwas plain enough; the unfortunate girl had fallen under Sergeant Cuff'ssuspicions, in spite of all I could do to prevent it.
"I hope you don't think Rosanna is concerned in the loss of theDiamond?" I ventured to say.
The corners of the Sergeant's melancholy mouth curled up, and he lookedhard in my face, just as he had looked in the garden.
"I think I had better not tell you, Mr. Betteredge," he said. "You mightlose your head, you know, for the second time."
I began to doubt whether I had been one too many for the celebratedCuff, after all! It was rather a relief to me that we were interruptedhere by a knock at the door, and a message from the cook. RosannaSpearman HAD asked to go out, for the usual reason, that her head wasbad, and she wanted a breath of fresh air. At a sign from the Sergeant,I said, Yes. "Which is the servants' way out?" he asked, when themessenger had gone. I showed him the servants' way out. "Lock the doorof your room," says the Sergeant; "and if anybody asks for me, say I'min there, composing my mind." He curled up again at the corners of thelips, and disappeared.
Left alone, under those circumstances, a devouring curiosity pushed meon to make some discoveries for myself.
It was plain that Sergeant Cuff's suspicions of Rosanna had been rousedby something that he had found out at his examination of the servants inmy room. Now, the only two servants (excepting Rosanna herself) who hadremained under examination for any length of time, were my lady's ownmaid and the first housemaid, those two being also the women who hadtaken the lead in persecuting their unfortunate fellow-servant from thefirst. Reaching these conclusions, I looked in on them, casually asit might be, in the servants' hall, and, finding tea going forward,instantly invited myself to that meal. (For, NOTA BENE, a drop of tea isto a woman's tongue what a drop of oil is to a wasting lamp.)
My reliance on the tea-pot, as an ally, did not go unrewarded. In lessthan half an hour I knew as much as the Sergeant himself.
My lady's maid and the housemaid, had, it appeared, neither of thembelieved in Rosanna's illness of the previous day. These two devils--Iask your pardon; but how else CAN you describe a couple of spitefulwomen?--had stolen up-stairs, at intervals during the Thursdayafternoon; had tried Rosanna's door, and found it locked; had knocked,and not been answered; had listened, and not heard a sound inside. Whenthe girl had come down to tea, and had been sent up, still out of sorts,to bed again, the two devils aforesaid had tried her door once more, andfound it locked; had looked at the keyhole, and found it stopped up; hadseen a light under the door at midnight, and had heard the crackling ofa fire (a fire in a servant's bed-room in the month of June!) at fourin the morning. All this they had told Sergeant Cuff, who, in return fortheir anxiety to enlighten him, had eyed them with sour and suspiciouslooks, and had shown them plainly that he didn't believe either one orthe other. Hence, the unfavourable reports of him which these two womenhad brought out with them from the examination. Hence, also (withoutreckoning the influence of the tea-pot), their readiness to let theirtongues run to any length on the subject of the Sergeant's ungraciousbehaviour to them.
Having had some experience of the great Cuff's round-about ways, andhaving last seen him evidently bent on following Rosanna privately whenshe went out for her walk, it seemed clear to me that he had thought itunadvisable to let the lady's maid and the housemaid know how materiallythey had helped him. They were just the sort of women, if he had treatedtheir evidence as trustworthy, to have been puffed up by it, and tohave said or done something which would have put Rosanna Spearman on herguard.
I walked out in the fine summer afternoon, very sorry for the poorgirl, and very uneasy in my mind at the turn things had taken. Driftingtowards the shrubbery, some time later, there I met Mr. Franklin. Afterreturning from seeing his cousin off at the station, he had been withmy lady, holding a long conversation with her. She had told him of MissRachel's unaccountable refusal to let her wardrobe be examined; and hadput him in such low spirits about my young lady that he seemed to shrinkfrom speaking on the subject. The family temper appeared in his facethat evening, for the first time in my experience of him.
"Well, Betteredge," he said, "how does the atmosphere of mysteryand suspicion in which we are all living now, agree with you? Do youremember that morning when I first came here with the Moonstone? I wishto God we had thrown it into the quicksand!"
After breaking out in that way, he abstained from speaking again untilhe had composed himself. We walked silently, side by side, for a minuteor two, and then he asked me what had become of Sergeant Cuff. It wasimpossible to put Mr. Franklin off with the excuse of the Sergeant beingin my room, composing his mind. I told him exactly what had happened,mentioning particularly what my lady's maid and the house-maid had saidabout Rosanna Spearman.
Mr. Franklin's clear head saw the turn the Sergeant's suspicions hadtaken, in the twinkling of an eye.
"Didn't you tell me this morning," he said, "that one of thetradespeople declared he had met Rosanna yesterday, on the footway toFrizinghall, when we supposed her to be ill in her room?"
"Yes, sir."
"If my aunt's maid and the other woman have spoken the truth, you maydepend upon it the tradesman did meet her. The girl's attack of illnesswas a blind to deceive us. She had some guilty reason for going to thetown secretly. The paint-stained dress is a dress of hers; and the fireheard crackling in her room at four in the morning was a fire litto destroy it. Rosanna Spearman has stolen the Diamond. I'll go indirectly, and tell my aunt the turn things have taken."
"Not just yet, if you please, sir," said a melancholy voice behind us.
We both turned about, and found ourselves face to face with SergeantCuff.
"Why not just yet?" asked Mr. Franklin.
"Because, sir, if you tell her ladyship, her ladyship will tell MissVerinder."
"Suppose she does. What then?" Mr. Franklin said those words with asudden heat and vehemence, as if the Sergeant had mortally offended him.
"Do you think it's wise, sir," said Sergeant Cuff, quietly, "to put sucha question as that to me--at such a time as this?"
There was a moment's silence between them: Mr. Franklin walked closeup to the Sergeant. The two looked each other straight in the face. Mr.Franklin spoke first, dropping his voice as suddenly as he had raisedit.
"I suppose you know, Mr. Cuff," he said, "that you are treading ondelicate ground?"
"It isn't the first time, by a good many hundreds, that I find myselftreading on delicate ground," answered the other, as immovable as ever.
"I am to understand that you forbid me to tell my aunt what hashappened?"
"You are to understand, if you please, sir, that I throw up the case, ifyou tell Lady Verinder, or tell anybody, what has happened, until I giveyou leave."
That settled it. Mr. Franklin had no choice but to submit. He turnedaway in anger--and left us.
I had stood there listening to them, all in a tremble; not knowing whomto suspect, or what to think next. In the midst of my confusion, twothings, however, were plain to me. First, that my young lady was, insome unaccountable manner, at t
he bottom of the sharp speeches that hadpassed between them. Second, that they thoroughly understood each other,without having previously exchanged a word of explanation on eitherside.
"Mr. Betteredge," says the Sergeant, "you have done a very foolish thingin my absence. You have done a little detective business on your ownaccount. For the future, perhaps you will be so obliging as to do yourdetective business along with me."
He took me by the arm, and walked me away with him along the road bywhich he had come. I dare say I had deserved his reproof--but I was notgoing to help him to set traps for Rosanna Spearman, for all that. Thiefor no thief, legal or not legal, I don't care--I pitied her.
"What do you want of me?" I asked, shaking him off, and stopping short.
"Only a little information about the country round here," said theSergeant.
I couldn't well object to improve Sergeant Cuff in his geography.
"Is there any path, in that direction, leading to the sea-beach fromthis house?" asked the Sergeant. He pointed, as he spoke, to thefir-plantation which led to the Shivering Sand.
"Yes," I said, "there is a path."
"Show it to me."
Side by side, in the grey of the summer evening, Sergeant Cuff and I setforth for the Shivering Sand.
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