The Moonstone

by Wilkie Collins

  CHAPTER II

  The next thing I have to do, is to present such additional informationas I possess on the subject of the Moonstone, or, to speak morecorrectly, on the subject of the Indian plot to steal the Diamond. Thelittle that I have to tell is (as I think I have already said) of someimportance, nevertheless, in respect of its bearing very remarkably onevents which are still to come.

  About a week or ten days after Miss Verinder had left us, one of myclerks entered the private room at my office, with a card in his hand,and informed me that a gentleman was below, who wanted to speak to me.

  I looked at the card. There was a foreign name written on it, which hasescaped my memory. It was followed by a line written in English at thebottom of the card, which I remember perfectly well:

  "Recommended by Mr. Septimus Luker."

  The audacity of a person in Mr. Luker's position presuming to recommendanybody to me, took me so completely by surprise, that I sat silentfor the moment, wondering whether my own eyes had not deceived me. Theclerk, observing my bewilderment, favoured me with the result of his ownobservation of the stranger who was waiting downstairs.

  "He is rather a remarkable-looking man, sir. So dark in the complexionthat we all set him down in the office for an Indian, or something ofthat sort."

  Associating the clerk's idea with the line inscribed on the card in myhand, I thought it possible that the Moonstone might be at the bottom ofMr. Luker's recommendation, and of the stranger's visit at my office. Tothe astonishment of my clerk, I at once decided on granting an interviewto the gentleman below.

  In justification of the highly unprofessional sacrifice to merecuriosity which I thus made, permit me to remind anybody who may readthese lines, that no living person (in England, at any rate) can claimto have had such an intimate connexion with the romance of the IndianDiamond as mine has been. I was trusted with the secret of ColonelHerncastle's plan for escaping assassination. I received the Colonel'sletters, periodically reporting himself a living man. I drew his Will,leaving the Moonstone to Miss Verinder. I persuaded his executor to act,on the chance that the jewel might prove to be a valuable acquisition tothe family. And, lastly, I combated Mr. Franklin Blake's scruples,and induced him to be the means of transporting the Diamond to LadyVerinder's house. If anyone can claim a prescriptive right of interestin the Moonstone, and in everything connected with it, I think it ishardly to be denied that I am the man.

  The moment my mysterious client was shown in, I felt an inner convictionthat I was in the presence of one of the three Indians--probably of thechief. He was carefully dressed in European costume. But his swarthycomplexion, his long lithe figure, and his grave and graceful politenessof manner were enough to betray his Oriental origin to any intelligenteyes that looked at him.

  I pointed to a chair, and begged to be informed of the nature of hisbusiness with me.

  After first apologising--in an excellent selection of English words--forthe liberty which he had taken in disturbing me, the Indian produced asmall parcel the outer covering of which was of cloth of gold. Removingthis and a second wrapping of some silken fabric, he placed a littlebox, or casket, on my table, most beautifully and richly inlaid injewels, on an ebony ground.

  "I have come, sir," he said, "to ask you to lend me some money. And Ileave this as an assurance to you that my debt will be paid back."

  I pointed to his card. "And you apply to me," I rejoined, "at Mr.Luker's recommendation?"

  The Indian bowed.

  "May I ask how it is that Mr. Luker himself did not advance the moneythat you require?"

  "Mr. Luker informed me, sir, that he had no money to lend."

  "And so he recommended you to come to me?"

  The Indian, in his turn, pointed to the card. "It is written there," hesaid.

  Briefly answered, and thoroughly to the purpose! If the Moonstone hadbeen in my possession, this Oriental gentleman would have murdered me,I am well aware, without a moment's hesitation. At the same time, andbarring that slight drawback, I am bound to testify that he was theperfect model of a client. He might not have respected my life. But hedid what none of my own countrymen had ever done, in all my experienceof them--he respected my time.

  "I am sorry," I said, "that you should have had the trouble of coming tome. Mr. Luker is quite mistaken in sending you here. I am trusted, likeother men in my profession, with money to lend. But I never lend it tostrangers, and I never lend it on such a security as you have produced."

  Far from attempting, as other people would have done, to induce me torelax my own rules, the Indian only made me another bow, and wrapped uphis box in its two coverings without a word of protest. He rose--thisadmirable assassin rose to go, the moment I had answered him!

  "Will your condescension towards a stranger, excuse my asking onequestion," he said, "before I take my leave?"

  I bowed on my side. Only one question at parting! The average in myexperience was fifty.

  "Supposing, sir, it had been possible (and customary) for you to lend methe money," he said, "in what space of time would it have been possible(and customary) for me to pay it back?"

  "According to the usual course pursued in this country," I answered,"you would have been entitled to pay the money back (if you liked) inone year's time from the date at which it was first advanced to you."

  The Indian made me a last bow, the lowest of all--and suddenly andsoftly walked out of the room.

  It was done in a moment, in a noiseless, supple, cat-like way, which alittle startled me, I own. As soon as I was composed enough to think,I arrived at one distinct conclusion in reference to the otherwiseincomprehensible visitor who had favoured me with a call.

  His face, voice, and manner--while I was in his company--were under suchperfect control that they set all scrutiny at defiance. But he had givenme one chance of looking under the smooth outer surface of him, for allthat. He had not shown the slightest sign of attempting to fix anythingthat I had said to him in his mind, until I mentioned the time at whichit was customary to permit the earliest repayment, on the part of adebtor, of money that had been advanced as a loan. When I gave him thatpiece of information, he looked me straight in the face, while I wasspeaking, for the first time. The inference I drew from this was--thathe had a special purpose in asking me his last question, and a specialinterest in hearing my answer to it. The more carefully I reflected onwhat had passed between us, the more shrewdly I suspected the productionof the casket, and the application for the loan, of having been mereformalities, designed to pave the way for the parting inquiry addressedto me.

  I had satisfied myself of the correctness of this conclusion--and wastrying to get on a step further, and penetrate the Indian's motivesnext--when a letter was brought to me, which proved to be from no lessa person that Mr. Septimus Luker himself. He asked my pardon in terms ofsickening servility, and assured me that he could explain matters tomy satisfaction, if I would honour him by consenting to a personalinterview.

  I made another unprofessional sacrifice to mere curiosity. I honouredhim by making an appointment at my office, for the next day.

  Mr. Luker was, in every respect, such an inferior creature to theIndian--he was so vulgar, so ugly, so cringing, and so prosy--that heis quite unworthy of being reported, at any length, in these pages. Thesubstance of what he had to tell me may be fairly stated as follows:

  The day before I had received the visit of the Indian, Mr. Luker hadbeen favoured with a call from that accomplished gentleman. In spite ofhis European disguise, Mr. Luker had instantly identified his visitorwith the chief of the three Indians, who had formerly annoyed him byloitering about his house, and who had left him no alternative but toconsult a magistrate. From this startling discovery he had rushed tothe conclusion (naturally enough I own) that he must certainly be in thecompany of one of the three men, who had blindfolded him, gagged him,and robbed him of his banker's receipt. The result was that he becamequite paralysed with terror, and that he firmly believed his last hourhad
come.

  On his side, the Indian preserved the character of a perfect stranger.He produced the little casket, and made exactly the same applicationwhich he had afterwards made to me. As the speediest way of getting ridof him, Mr. Luker had at once declared that he had no money. The Indianhad thereupon asked to be informed of the best and safest person toapply to for the loan he wanted. Mr. Luker had answered that the bestand safest person, in such cases, was usually a respectable solicitor.Asked to name some individual of that character and profession, Mr.Luker had mentioned me--for the one simple reason that, in the extremityof his terror, mine was the first name which occurred to him. "Theperspiration was pouring off me like rain, sir," the wretched creatureconcluded. "I didn't know what I was talking about. And I hope you'lllook over it, Mr. Bruff, sir, in consideration of my having been reallyand truly frightened out of my wits."

  I excused the fellow graciously enough. It was the readiest way ofreleasing myself from the sight of him. Before he left me, I detainedhim to make one inquiry.

  Had the Indian said anything noticeable, at the moment of quitting Mr.Luker's house?

  Yes! The Indian had put precisely the same question to Mr. Luker, atparting, which he had put to me; receiving of course, the same answer asthe answer which I had given him.

  What did it mean? Mr. Luker's explanation gave me no assistance towardssolving the problem. My own unaided ingenuity, consulted next, provedquite unequal to grapple with the difficulty. I had a dinner engagementthat evening; and I went upstairs, in no very genial frame of mind,little suspecting that the way to my dressing-room and the way todiscovery, meant, on this particular occasion, one and the same thing.