received and opened by the lawyer, as my
father's representative. No sensible person, in
a similar position, could have viewed the matter
in any other way. Nothing in this world,
Betteredge, is probable unless it appeals to our
own trumpery experience; and we only believe
in a romance when we see it in a newspaper."

It was plain to me from this, that Mr. Franklin
thought his father's notion about the
Colonel hasty and wrong.

"What is your own private opinion about the
matter, sir?" I asked.

"Let's finish the story of the Colonel first,"
says Mr. Franklin. "There is a curious want
of system, Betteredge, in the English mind;
and your question, my old friend, is an instance
of it. When we are not occupied in making
machinery, we are (mentally speaking) the most
slovenly people in the universe."

"So much," I thought to myself, "for a
foreign education! He has learned that way
of girding at us in France, I suppose."

Mr. Franklin took up the lost thread, and
went on.

"My father," he said, "got the papers
he wanted, and never saw his brother-in-law
again, from that time. Year after year, on
the pre-arranged days, the pre-arranged letter
came from the Colonel, and was opened by the
lawyer. I have seen the letters, in a heap, all
of them written in the same brief, business-like
form of words: 'Sir,—This is to certify that I
am still a living man. Let the Diamond be.
John Herncastle.' That was all he ever wrote,
and that came regularly to the day; until some
six or eight months since, when the form of the
letter varied for the first time. It ran now:
'Sir,—They tell me I am dying. Come to me,
and help me to make my will.' The lawyer went,
and found him in the little suburban villa,
surrounded by its own grounds, in which he
had lived alone, ever since he had left India.
He had dogs, cats, and birds to keep him
company; but no human being near him, except the
person who came daily to do the house-work,
and the doctor at the bedside. The will was a
very simple matter. The Colonel had dissipated
pated the greater part of his fortune in his
chemical investigations. His will began and
ended in three clauses, which he dictated from
his bed, in perfect possession of his faculties.
The first clause provided for the safe keeping
and support of his animals. The second founded
a professorship of experimental chemistry at a
northern university. The third bequeathed the
Moonstone as a birthday present to his niece,
on condition that my father would act as
executor. My father at first refused to act. On
second thoughts, however, he gave way, partly
because he was assured that the executorship
would involve him in no trouble; partly
because the lawyer suggested, in Rachel's interest,
that the Diamond might be worth something,
after all."

"Did the Colonel give any reason, sir," I
inquired, "why he left the Diamond to Miss
Rachel?"

"He not only gave the reason—he had the
reason written in his will," said Mr. Franklin.
"I have got an extract, which you shall see
presently. Don't be slovenly-minded,
Betteredge! One thing at a time. You have
heard about the Colonel's Will; now you
must hear what happened after the Colonel's
death. It was formally necessary to have the
Diamond valued, before the Will could be
proved. All the jewellers consulted, at once
confirmed the Colonel's assertion that he
possessed one of the largest diamonds in the world.
The question of accurately valuing it presented
some serious difficulties. Its size made it a
phenomenon in the diamond-market; its colour
placed it in a category by itself; and, to add
to these elements of uncertainty, there was a
defect, in the shape of a flaw, in the very heart
of the stone. Even with this last serious drawback
back, however, the lowest of the various
estimates given was twenty thousand pounds.
Conceive my father's astonishment! He had
been within a hair's-breadth of refusing to act
as executor, and of allowing this magnificent
jewel to be lost to the family. The interest he
took in the matter now, induced him to open
the sealed instructions which had been
deposited with the Diamond. The lawyer showed
this document to me, with the other papers;
and it suggests (to my mind) a clue to the
nature of the conspiracy which threatened the
Colonel's life."

"Then you do believe, sir," I said, "that
there was a conspiracy?"

"Not possessing my father's excellent common
sense," answered Mr. Franklin, " I believe
the Colonel's life was threatened, exactly as the
Colonel said. The sealed instructions, as I
think, explain how it was that he died, after
all, quietly in his bed. In the event of his
death by violence (that is to say, in the absence
of the regular letter from him at the appointed
date), my father was then directed to send the
Moonstone secretly to Amsterdam. It was to be
deposited in that city with a famous diamond-
cutter, and it was to be cut up into from four
to six separate stones. The stones were then
to be sold for what they would fetch, and the
proceeds were to be applied to the founding of
that professorship of experimental chemistry,
which the Colonel has since endowed by his
Will. Now, Betteredge, exert those sharp wits
of yours, and observe the conclusion to which
the Colonel's instructions point!"

I instantly exerted my wits. They were of
the slovenly English sort; and they
consequently muddled it all, until Mr. Franklin took
them in hand, and pointed out what they ought
to see.

"Remark," says Mr. Franklin, "that the
integrity of the Diamond, as a whole stone, is
here artfully made dependent on the preservation
from violence of the Colonel's life. He is
not satisfied with saying to the enemies he
dreads, 'Kill me—and you will be no nearer
to the Diamond than you are now; it is where
you can't get at it—in the guarded strong-