THE MOONSTONE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE WOMAN IN WHITE," &c. &c.
CHAPTER XXII.—(CONTINUED.)

I WALKED to the window to compose myself.
The rain had given over; and, who should I
see in the courtyard, but Mr. Begbie, the
gardener, waiting outside to continue the dog-rose
controversy with Sergeant Cuff.

"My compliments to the Sairgent," said Mr.
Begbie, the moment he set eyes on me. "If
he's minded to walk to the station, I'm agreeable
to go with him."

"What!" cries the Sergeant, behind me,
"are you not convinced yet?"

"The deil a bit I'm convinced!" answered
Mr. Begbie.

"Then I'll walk to the station!" says the
Sergeant.

"Then I'll meet you at the gate!" says Mr.
Begbie.

I was angry enough, as you know—but how
was any man's anger to hold out against such
an interruption as this? Sergeant Cuff noticed
the change in me, and encouraged it by a word
in season. "Come! come!" he said, "why not
treat my view of the case as her ladyship treats
it? Why not say, the circumstances have fatally
misled me?"

To take anything as her ladyship took it,
was a privilege worth enjoying—even with the
disadvantage of it's having been offered to me
by Sergeant Cuff. I cooled slowly down to my
customary level. I regarded any other opinion
of Miss Rachel, than my lady's opinion or mine,
with a lofty contempt. The only thing I could
not do, was to keep off the subject of the
Moonstone!  My own good sense ought to
have warned me, I know, to let the matter rest
—but, there! the virtues which distinguish the
present generation were not invented in my time.
Sergeant Cuff had hit me on the raw, and,
though I did look down upon him with
contempt, the tender place still tingled for all that.
The end of it was that I perversely led him
back to the subject of her ladyship's letter.
"I am quite satisfied myself," I said. "But
never mind that! Go on, as if I was still open
to conviction. You think Miss Rachel is not
to be believed on her word; and you say we
shall hear of the Moonstone again. Back your
opinion, Sergeant," I concluded, in an airy way.
"Back your opinion."

Instead of taking offence, Sergeant Cuff
seized my hand, and shook it till my fingers
ached again.

"I declare to Heaven," says this strange
officer solemnly, "I would take to domestic
service to-morrow, Mr. Betteredge, if I had a
chance of being employed along with You! To
say you are as transparent as a child, sir, is to
pay the children a compliment which nine out
of ten of them don't deserve. There! there!
we won't begin to dispute again. You shall
have it out of me on easier terms than that.
I won't say a word more about her ladyship, or
about Miss Verinder—I'll only turn prophet,
for once in a way, and for your sake. I have
warned you already that you haven't done with
the Moonstone yet. Very well. Now I'll tell
you, at parting, of three things which will
happen in the future, and which, I believe, will
force themselves on your attention, whether
you like it or not."

"Go on!" I said, quite unabashed, and just
as airy as ever.

"First," said the Sergeant, "you will hear
something from the Yollands—when the postman
delivers Rosanna's letter at Cobb's Hole,
on Monday next."

If he had thrown a bucket of cold water over
me, I doubt if I could have felt it much more
unpleasantly than I felt those words. Miss
Rachel's assertion of her innocence had left
Rosanna's conduct—the making the new night
gown, the hiding the smeared nightgown, and  all
the rest of it—entirely without explanation.
And this had never occurred to me, till Sergeant
Cuff forced it on my mind all in a moment!

"In the second place," proceeded the Sergeant,
"you will hear of the three Indians again. You
will hear of them in the neighbourhood, if Miss
Rachel remains in the neighbourhood. You
will hear of them in London, if Miss Rachel
goes to London."

Having lost all interest in the three jugglers,
and having thoroughly convinced myself of my
young lady's innocence, I took this second
prophecy easily enough. "So much for two of
the three things that are going to happen," I
said. "Now for the third!"

"Third, and last," said Sergeant Cuff, "you
will, sooner or later, hear something of that
money-lender in London, whom I have twice