THE MOONSTONE.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WOMAN IN WHITE," &c. &c.

CHAPTER XI.— (CONTINUED).

AFTER the library had been swept and cleaned
in the morning, neither first nor second housemaid
had any business in that room at any later
period of the day. I stopped Rosanna Spearman,
and charged her with a breach of domestic
discipline on the spot.

"What might you want in the library at this
time of day?" I inquired.

"Mr. Franklin Blake dropped one of his
rings up-stairs," says Rosanna; "and I have
been into the library to give it to him." The
girl's face was all in a flush as she made me
that answer; and she walked away with a toss
of her head and a look of self-importance which
I was quite at a loss to account for. The
proceedings in the house had doubtless upset all
the women-servants more or less; but none of
them had gone clean out of their natural
characters, as Rosanna, to all appearance, had now
gone out of hers.

I found Mr. Franklin writing at the library-
table. He asked for a conveyance to the railway
station the moment I entered the room.
The first sound of his voice informed me that
we now had the resolute side of him uppermost
once more. The man made of cotton had
disappeared; and the man made of iron sat before
me again.

"Going to London, sir?" I asked.

"Going to telegraph to London," says Mr.
Franklin. " I have convinced my aunt that we
must have a cleverer head than Superintendent
Seegrave's to help us; and I have got her
permission to despatch a telegram to my father.
He knows the Chief Commissioner of Police,
and the Commissioner can lay his hand on the
right man to solve the mystery of the Diamond.
Talking of mysteries, by-the-by," says Mr.
Franklin, dropping his voice, " I have another
word to say to you before you go to the stables.
Don't breathe a word of it to anybody as yet;
but either Rosanna Spearman's head is not
quite right, or I am afraid she knows more
about the Moonstone than she ought to
know."

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 bedroom," 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