night, to the time when you saw me take the
Diamond."

She lifted her head from my shoulder, and
made an effort to release her hand. "Oh, why
go back to it?" she said. "Why go back to
it?"

"I will tell you why, Rachel. You are
the victim, and I am the victim, of some
monstrous delusion which has worn the mask of
truth. If we look at what happened on the
night of your birthday, together, we may end
in understanding each other yet."

Her head dropped back on my shoulder.
The tears gathered in her eyes, and fell slowly
over her cheeks. "Oh!" she said, "have I
never had that hope? Have I not tried to
see it, as you are trying now?"

"You have tried by yourself," I answered.
"You have not tried with me to help you."

Those words seemed to awaken in her
something of the hope which I felt myself when I
uttered them. She replied to my questions
with more than docility—she exerted her
intelligence; she willingly opened her whole mind
to me.

"Let us begin," I said, "with what
happened after we had wished each other good
night. Did you go to bed? or did you sit
up?"

"I went to bed."

"Did you notice the time? Was it late?"

"Not very. About twelve o'clock, I think."

"Did you fall asleep?"

"No. I couldn't sleep that night."

"You were restless?"

"I was thinking of you."

The answer almost unmanned me.
Something in the tone, even more than in the
words, went straight to my heart. It was only
after pausing a little first that I was able to
go on.

"Had you any light in your room?" I asked.

"None—until I got up again, and lit my
candle."

"How long was that, after you had gone to
bed?"

"About an hour after, I think. About one
o'clock."

"Did you leave your bedroom?"

"I was going to leave it. I had put on my
dressing-gown; and I was going into my
sitting-room to get a book——"

"Had you opened your bedroom door?"

"I had just opened it."

"But you had not gone into the sitting-room?"

"No—I was stopped from going into it."

"What stopped you?"

"I saw a light, under the door; and I heard
footsteps approaching it."

"Were you frightened?"

"Not then. I knew my poor mother was a
bad sleeper; and I remembered that she had
tried hard, that evening, to persuade me to let
her take charge of my Diamond. She was
unreasonably anxious about it, as I thought; and
I fancied she was coming to me to see if I was
in bed, and to speak to me about the Diamond
again, if she found that I was up."

"What did you do?"

"I blew out my candle, so that she might
think I was in bed. I was unreasonable, on
my side—I was determined to keep my Diamond
in the place of my own choosing."

"After blowing the candle out, did you go
back to bed?"

"I had no time to go back. At the moment
when I blew the candle out, the sitting-room
door opened, and I saw——"

"You saw?"

"You."

"Dressed as usual?"

"No."

"In my nightgown?"

"In your nightgown—with your bedroom
candle in your hand."

"Alone?"

"Alone."

"Could you see my face?"

"Yes."

"Plainly?"

"Quite plainly. The candle in your hand
showed it to me."

"Were my eyes open?"

"Yes."

"Did you notice anything strange in them?
Anything like a fixed, vacant expression?"

"Nothing of the sort. Your eyes were
bright—brighter than usual. You looked about
in the room, as if you knew you were where
you ought not to be, and as if you were afraid
of being found out."

"Did you observe one thing when I came
into the room—did you observe how I walked?"

"You walked as you always do. You came
in as far as the middle of the room—and then
you stopped and looked about you."

"What did you do, on first seeing me?"

"I could do nothing. I was petrified. I
couldn't speak, I couldn't call out, I couldn't
even move to shut my door."

"Could I see you, where you stood?"

"You might certainly have seen me. But
you never looked towards me. It's useless to
ask the question. I am sure you never saw
me."

"How are you sure?"

"Would you have taken the Diamond?
would you have acted as you did afterwards?
would you be here now—if you had seen that I
was awake and looking at you? Don't make
me talk of that part of it! I want to answer
you quietly. Help me to keep as calm as I
can. Go on to something else."

She was right—in every way, right. I went
on to other things.

"What did I do, after I had got to the
middle of the room, and had stopped there?"

"You turned away, and went straight to
the corner near the window—where my Indian
cabinet stands."

"When I was at the cabinet, my back must
have been turned towards you. How did you
see what I was doing?"