CHAPTER I
I am indebted to my dear parents (both now in heaven) for having hadhabits of order and regularity instilled into me at a very early age.
In that happy bygone time, I was taught to keep my hair tidy at allhours of the day and night, and to fold up every article of my clothingcarefully, in the same order, on the same chair, in the same place atthe foot of the bed, before retiring to rest. An entry of the day'sevents in my little diary invariably preceded the folding up. The"Evening Hymn" (repeated in bed) invariably followed the folding up. Andthe sweet sleep of childhood invariably followed the "Evening Hymn."
In later life (alas!) the Hymn has been succeeded by sad and bittermeditations; and the sweet sleep has been but ill exchanged for thebroken slumbers which haunt the uneasy pillow of care. On the otherhand, I have continued to fold my clothes, and to keep my little diary.The former habit links me to my happy childhood--before papa was ruined.The latter habit--hitherto mainly useful in helping me to discipline thefallen nature which we all inherit from Adam--has unexpectedly provedimportant to my humble interests in quite another way. It has enabledpoor Me to serve the caprice of a wealthy member of the family intowhich my late uncle married. I am fortunate enough to be useful to Mr.Franklin Blake.
I have been cut off from all news of my relatives by marriage forsome time past. When we are isolated and poor, we are not infrequentlyforgotten. I am now living, for economy's sake, in a little town inBrittany, inhabited by a select circle of serious English friends, andpossessed of the inestimable advantages of a Protestant clergyman and acheap market.
In this retirement--a Patmos amid the howling ocean of popery thatsurrounds us--a letter from England has reached me at last. I find myinsignificant existence suddenly remembered by Mr. Franklin Blake.My wealthy relative--would that I could add my spiritually-wealthyrelative!--writes, without even an attempt at disguising that he wantssomething of me. The whim has seized him to stir up the deplorablescandal of the Moonstone: and I am to help him by writing the accountof what I myself witnessed while visiting at Aunt Verinder's housein London. Pecuniary remuneration is offered to me--with the want offeeling peculiar to the rich. I am to re-open wounds that Timehas barely closed; I am to recall the most intensely painfulremembrances--and this done, I am to feel myself compensated by a newlaceration, in the shape of Mr. Blake's cheque. My nature is weak. Itcost me a hard struggle, before Christian humility conquered sinfulpride, and self-denial accepted the cheque.
Without my diary, I doubt--pray let me express it in the grossestterms!--if I could have honestly earned my money. With my diary, thepoor labourer (who forgives Mr. Blake for insulting her) is worthyof her hire. Nothing escaped me at the time I was visiting dear AuntVerinder. Everything was entered (thanks to my early training) day byday as it happened; and everything down to the smallest particular,shall be told here. My sacred regard for truth is (thank God) far abovemy respect for persons. It will be easy for Mr. Blake to suppress whatmay not prove to be sufficiently flattering in these pages to the personchiefly concerned in them. He has purchased my time, but not even HISwealth can purchase my conscience too.*
* NOTE. ADDED BY FRANKLIN BLAKE.--Miss Clack may make her mind quite easy on this point. Nothing will be added, altered or removed, in her manuscript, or in any of the other manuscripts which pass through my hands. Whatever opinions any of the writers may express, whatever peculiarities of treatment may mark, and perhaps in a literary sense, disfigure the narratives which I am now collecting, not a line will be tampered with anywhere, from first to last. As genuine documents they are sent to me--and as genuine documents I shall preserve them, endorsed by the attestations of witnesses who can speak to the facts. It only remains to be added that "the person chiefly concerned" in Miss Clack's narrative, is happy enough at the present moment, not only to brave the smartest exercise of Miss Clack's pen, but even to recognise its unquestionable value as an instrument for the exhibition of Miss Clack's character.
My diary informs me, that I was accidentally passing Aunt Verinder'shouse in Montagu Square, on Monday, 3rd July, 1848.
Seeing the shutters opened, and the blinds drawn up, I felt that itwould be an act of polite attention to knock, and make inquiries. Theperson who answered the door, informed me that my aunt and her daughter(I really cannot call her my cousin!) had arrived from the countrya week since, and meditated making some stay in London. I sent up amessage at once, declining to disturb them, and only begging to knowwhether I could be of any use.
The person who answered the door, took my message in insolent silence,and left me standing in the hall. She is the daughter of a heathen oldman named Betteredge--long, too long, tolerated in my aunt's family.I sat down in the hall to wait for my answer--and, having always a fewtracts in my bag, I selected one which proved to be quite providentiallyapplicable to the person who answered the door. The hall was dirty, andthe chair was hard; but the blessed consciousness of returning good forevil raised me quite above any trifling considerations of that kind. Thetract was one of a series addressed to young women on the sinfulness ofdress. In style it was devoutly familiar. Its title was, "A Word WithYou On Your Cap-Ribbons."
"My lady is much obliged, and begs you will come and lunch to-morrow attwo."
I passed over the manner in which she gave her message, and the dreadfulboldness of her look. I thanked this young castaway; and I said, in atone of Christian interest, "Will you favour me by accepting a tract?"
She looked at the title. "Is it written by a man or a woman, Miss? Ifit's written by a woman, I had rather not read it on that account. Ifit's written by a man, I beg to inform him that he knows nothing aboutit." She handed me back the tract, and opened the door. We must sow thegood seed somehow. I waited till the door was shut on me, and slippedthe tract into the letter-box. When I had dropped another tract throughthe area railings, I felt relieved, in some small degree, of a heavyresponsibility towards others.
We had a meeting that evening of the Select Committee of theMothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society. The object of this excellentCharity is--as all serious people know--to rescue unredeemed fathers'trousers from the pawnbroker, and to prevent their resumption, on thepart of the irreclaimable parent, by abridging them immediately to suitthe proportions of the innocent son. I was a member, at that time,of the select committee; and I mention the Society here, because myprecious and admirable friend, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, was associatedwith our work of moral and material usefulness. I had expected to seehim in the boardroom, on the Monday evening of which I am now writing,and had proposed to tell him, when we met, of dear Aunt Verinder'sarrival in London. To my great disappointment he never appeared. Onmy expressing a feeling of surprise at his absence, my sisters of theCommittee all looked up together from their trousers (we had a greatpressure of business that night), and asked in amazement, if I had notheard the news. I acknowledged my ignorance, and was then told, for thefirst time, of an event which forms, so to speak, the starting-pointof this narrative. On the previous Friday, two gentlemen--occupyingwidely-different positions in society--had been the victims of anoutrage which had startled all London. One of the gentlemen was Mr.Septimus Luker, of Lambeth. The other was Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite.
Living in my present isolation, I have no means of introducing thenewspaper-account of the outrage into my narrative. I was also deprived,at the time, of the inestimable advantage of hearing the events relatedby the fervid eloquence of Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite. All I can do is tostate the facts as they were stated, on that Monday evening, to me;proceeding on the plan which I have been taught from infancy to adoptin folding up my clothes. Everything shall be put neatly, and everythingshall be put in its place. These lines are written by a poor weak woman.From a poor weak woman who will be cruel enough to expect more?
The date--thanks to my dear parents, no dictionary that ever was writtencan be more particular than I am about dates--was Friday, June 30th,1848.
Thoughtless and superficial people may say, Here is surely a verytrumpery little incident related in an absurdly circumstantial manner.Oh, my young friends and fellow-sinners! beware of presuming to exerciseyour poor carnal reason. Oh, be morally tidy. Let your faith be as yourstockings, and your stockings as your faith. Both ever spotless, andboth ready to put on at a moment's notice!
I beg a thousand pardons. I have fallen insensibly into my Sunday-schoolstyle. Most inappropriate in such a record as this. Let me try to beworldly--let me say that trifles, in this case as in many others, ledto terrible results. Merely premising that the polite stranger was Mr.Luker, of Lambeth, we will now follow Mr. Godfrey home to his residenceat Kilburn.
He found waiting for him, in the hall, a poorly clad but delicate andinteresting-looking little boy. The boy handed him a letter, merelymentioning that he had been entrusted with it by an old lady whom he didnot know, and who had given him no instructions to wait for an answer.Such incidents as these were not uncommon in Mr. Godfrey's largeexperience as a promoter of public charities. He let the boy go, andopened the letter.
The handwriting was entirely unfamiliar to him. It requested hisattendance, within an hour's time, at a house in Northumberland Street,Strand, which he had never had occasion to enter before. The objectsought was to obtain from the worthy manager certain details on thesubject of the Mothers'-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society, and theinformation was wanted by an elderly lady who proposed adding largely tothe resources of the charity, if her questions were met by satisfactoryreplies. She mentioned her name, and she added that the shortness ofher stay in London prevented her from giving any longer notice to theeminent philanthropist whom she addressed.
Ordinary people might have hesitated before setting aside their ownengagements to suit the convenience of a stranger. The Christian Heronever hesitates where good is to be done. Mr. Godfrey instantly turnedback, and proceeded to the house in Northumberland Street. A mostrespectable though somewhat corpulent man answered the door, and, onhearing Mr. Godfrey's name, immediately conducted him into an emptyapartment at the back, on the drawing-room floor. He noticed two unusualthings on entering the room. One of them was a faint odour of muskand camphor. The other was an ancient Oriental manuscript, richlyilluminated with Indian figures and devices, that lay open to inspectionon a table.
He was looking at the book, the position of which caused him to standwith his back turned towards the closed folding doors communicating withthe front room, when, without the slightest previous noise to warn him,he felt himself suddenly seized round the neck from behind. He hadjust time to notice that the arm round his neck was naked and of atawny-brown colour, before his eyes were bandaged, his mouth was gagged,and he was thrown helpless on the floor by (as he judged) two men. Athird rifled his pockets, and--if, as a lady, I may venture to use suchan expression--searched him, without ceremony, through and through tohis skin.
Here I should greatly enjoy saying a few cheering words on the devoutconfidence which could alone have sustained Mr. Godfrey in an emergencyso terrible as this. Perhaps, however, the position and appearance ofmy admirable friend at the culminating period of the outrage (as abovedescribed) are hardly within the proper limits of female discussion. Letme pass over the next few moments, and return to Mr. Godfrey at the timewhen the odious search of his person had been completed. The outrage hadbeen perpetrated throughout in dead silence. At the end of it some wordswere exchanged, among the invisible wretches, in a language which hedid not understand, but in tones which were plainly expressive (to hiscultivated ear) of disappointment and rage. He was suddenly lifted fromthe ground, placed in a chair, and bound there hand and foot. The nextmoment he felt the air flowing in from the open door, listened, andconcluded that he was alone again in the room.
An interval elapsed, and he heard a sound below like the rustling soundof a woman's dress. It advanced up the stairs, and stopped. A femalescream rent the atmosphere of guilt. A man's voice below exclaimed"Hullo!" A man's feet ascended the stairs. Mr. Godfrey felt Christianfingers unfastening his bandage, and extracting his gag. He looked inamazement at two respectable strangers, and faintly articulated, "Whatdoes it mean?" The two respectable strangers looked back, and said,"Exactly the question we were going to ask YOU."
The inevitable explanation followed. No! Let me be scrupulouslyparticular. Sal volatile and water followed, to compose dear Mr.Godfrey's nerves. The explanation came next.
It appeared from the statement of the landlord and landlady of the house(persons of good repute in the neighbourhood), that their first andsecond floor apartments had been engaged, on the previous day, for aweek certain, by a most respectable-looking gentleman--the same who hasbeen already described as answering the door to Mr. Godfrey's knock. Thegentleman had paid the week's rent and all the week's extras in advance,stating that the apartments were wanted for three Oriental noblemen,friends of his, who were visiting England for the first time. Early onthe morning of the outrage, two of the Oriental strangers, accompaniedby their respectable English friend, took possession of the apartments.The third was expected to join them shortly; and the luggage (reportedas very bulky) was announced to follow when it had passed through theCustom-house, late in the afternoon. Not more than ten minutes previousto Mr. Godfrey's visit, the third foreigner had arrived. Nothing out ofthe common had happened, to the knowledge of the landlord and landladydown-stairs, until within the last five minutes--when they had seen thethree foreigners, accompanied by their respectable English friend,all leave the house together, walking quietly in the direction of theStrand. Remembering that a visitor had called, and not having seen thevisitor also leave the house, the landlady had thought it rather strangethat the gentleman should be left by himself up-stairs. After ashort discussion with her husband, she had considered it advisable toascertain whether anything was wrong. The result had followed, as Ihave already attempted to describe it; and there the explanation of thelandlord and the landlady came to an end.
An investigation was next made in the room. Dear Mr. Godfrey's propertywas found scattered in all directions. When the articles werecollected, however, nothing was missing; his watch, chain, purse,keys, pocket-handkerchief, note-book, and all his loose papers had beenclosely examined, and had then been left unharmed to be resumed by theowner. In the same way, not the smallest morsel of property belonging tothe proprietors of the house had been abstracted. The Oriental noblemenhad removed their own illuminated manuscript, and had removed nothingelse.
What did it mean? Taking the worldly point of view, it appeared to meanthat Mr. Godfrey had been the victim of some incomprehensible error,committed by certain unknown men. A dark conspiracy was on foot in themidst of us; and our beloved and innocent friend had been entangled inits meshes. When the Christian hero of a hundred charitable victoriesplunges into a pitfall that has been dug for him by mistake, oh, what awarning it is to the rest of us to be unceasingly on our guard! How soonmay our own evil passions prove to be Oriental noblemen who pounce on usunawares!
I could write pages of affectionate warning on this one theme, but(alas!) I am not permitted to improve--I am condemned to narrate.My wealthy relative's cheque--henceforth, the incubus of myexistence--warns me that I have not done with this record of violenceyet. We mu
st leave Mr. Godfrey to recover in Northumberland Street, andmust follow the proceedings of Mr. Luker at a later period of the day.
After leaving the bank, Mr. Luker had visited various parts of Londonon business errands. Returning to his own residence, he found a letterwaiting for him, which was described as having been left a shorttime previously by a boy. In this case, as in Mr. Godfrey's case, thehandwriting was strange; but the name mentioned was the name of one ofMr. Luker's customers. His correspondent announced (writing in thethird person--apparently by the hand of a deputy) that he had beenunexpectedly summoned to London. He had just established himself inlodgings in Alfred Place, Tottenham Court Road; and he desired tosee Mr. Luker immediately, on the subject of a purchase which hecontemplated making. The gentleman was an enthusiastic collector ofOriental antiquities, and had been for many years a liberal patron ofthe establishment in Lambeth. Oh, when shall we wean ourselves from theworship of Mammon! Mr. Luker called a cab, and drove off instantly tohis liberal patron.
Exactly what had happened to Mr. Godfrey in Northumberland Street nowhappened to Mr. Luker in Alfred Place. Once more the respectable mananswered the door, and showed the visitor up-stairs into the backdrawing-room. There, again, lay the illuminated manuscript on a table.Mr. Luker's attention was absorbed, as Mr. Godfrey's attention had beenabsorbed, by this beautiful work of Indian art. He too was aroused fromhis studies by a tawny naked arm round his throat, by a bandage overhis eyes, and by a gag in his mouth. He too was thrown prostrate andsearched to the skin. A longer interval had then elapsed than had passedin the experience of Mr. Godfrey; but it had ended as before, in thepersons of the house suspecting something wrong, and going up-stairs tosee what had happened. Precisely the same explanation which the landlordin Northumberland Street had given to Mr. Godfrey, the landlord inAlfred Place now gave to Mr. Luker. Both had been imposed on in the sameway by the plausible address and well-filled purse of the respectablestranger, who introduced himself as acting for his foreign friends.The one point of difference between the two cases occurred when thescattered contents of Mr. Luker's pockets were being collected fromthe floor. His watch and purse were safe, but (less fortunate than Mr.Godfrey) one of the loose papers that he carried about him had beentaken away. The paper in question acknowledged the receipt of a valuableof great price which Mr. Luker had that day left in the care of hisbankers. This document would be useless for purposes of fraud, inasmuchas it provided that the valuable should only be given up on the personalapplication of the owner. As soon as he recovered himself, Mr. Lukerhurried to the bank, on the chance that the thieves who had robbed himmight ignorantly present themselves with the receipt. Nothing had beenseen of them when he arrived at the establishment, and nothing was seenof them afterwards. Their respectable English friend had (in the opinionof the bankers) looked the receipt over before they attempted to makeuse of it, and had given them the necessary warning in good time.
Information of both outrages was communicated to the police, and theneedful investigations were pursued, I believe, with great energy.The authorities held that a robbery had been planned, on insufficientinformation received by the thieves. They had been plainly not surewhether Mr. Luker had, or had not, trusted the transmission of hisprecious gem to another person; and poor polite Mr. Godfrey had paid thepenalty of having been seen accidentally speaking to him. Add to this,that Mr. Godfrey's absence from our Monday evening meeting had beenoccasioned by a consultation of the authorities, at which he wasrequested to assist--and all the explanations required being nowgiven, I may proceed with the simpler story of my own little personalexperiences in Montagu Square.
I was punctual to the luncheon hour on Tuesday. Reference to my diaryshows this to have been a chequered day--much in it to be devoutlyregretted, much in it to be devoutly thankful for.
Dear Aunt Verinder received me with her usual grace and kindness. But Inoticed, after a little while, that something was wrong. Certain anxiouslooks escaped my aunt, all of which took the direction of her daughter.I never see Rachel myself without wondering how it can be that soinsignificant-looking a person should be the child of such distinguishedparents as Sir John and Lady Verinder. On this occasion, however, shenot only disappointed--she really shocked me. There was an absence ofall lady-like restraint in her language and manner most painful tosee. She was possessed by some feverish excitement which made herdistressingly loud when she laughed, and sinfully wasteful andcapricious in what she ate and drank at lunch. I felt deeply forher poor mother, even before the true state of the case had beenconfidentially made known to me.
Luncheon over, my aunt said: "Remember what the doctor told you, Rachel,about quieting yourself with a book after taking your meals."
"I'll go into the library, mamma," she answered. "But if Godfreycalls, mind I am told of it. I am dying for more news of him, afterhis adventure in Northumberland Street." She kissed her mother on theforehead, and looked my way. "Good-bye, Clack," she said, carelessly.Her insolence roused no angry feeling in me; I only made a privatememorandum to pray for her.
When we were left by ourselves, my aunt told me the whole horrible storyof the Indian Diamond, which, I am happy to know, it is not necessary torepeat here. She did not conceal from me that she would have preferredkeeping silence on the subject. But when her own servants all knewof the loss of the Moonstone, and when some of the circumstances hadactually found their way into the newspapers--when strangers werespeculating whether there was any connection between what hadhappened at Lady Verinder's country-house, and what had happened inNorthumberland Street and Alfred Place--concealment was not to bethought of; and perfect frankness became a necessity as well as avirtue.
Some persons, hearing what I now heard, would have been probablyoverwhelmed with astonishment. For my own part, knowing Rachel's spiritto have been essentially unregenerate from her childhood upwards, Iwas prepared for whatever my aunt could tell me on the subject of herdaughter. It might have gone on from bad to worse till it ended inMurder; and I should still have said to myself, The natural result! oh,dear, dear, the natural result! The one thing that DID shock me was thecourse my aunt had taken under the circumstances. Here surely was a casefor a clergyman, if ever there was one yet! Lady Verinder had thought ita case for a physician. All my poor aunt's early life had been passedin her father's godless household. The natural result again! Oh, dear,dear, the natural result again!
"The doctors recommend plenty of exercise and amusement for Rachel, andstrongly urge me to keep her mind as much as possible from dwelling onthe past," said Lady Verinder.
"Oh, what heathen advice!" I thought to myself. "In this Christiancountry, what heathen advice!"
My aunt went on, "I do my best to carry out my instructions. But thisstrange adventure of Godfrey's happens at a most unfortunate time.Rachel has been incessantly restless and excited since she first heardof it. She left me no peace till I had written and asked my nephewAblewhite to come here. She even feels an interest in the other personwho was roughly used--Mr. Luker, or some such name--though the man is,of course, a total stranger to her."
"Your knowledge of the world, dear aunt, is superior to mine," Isuggested diffidently. "But there must be a reason surely for thisextraordinary conduct on Rachel's part. She is keeping a sinful secretfrom you and from everybody. May there not be something in these recentevents which threatens her secret with discovery?"
"Discovery?" repeated my aunt. "What can you possibly mean? Discoverythrough Mr. Luker? Discovery through my nephew?"
As the word passed her lips, a special providence occurred. The servantopened the door, and announced Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite.
The Moonstone Page 27
