"Deposited in the keeping of Mr. Luker's
bankers."

"Exactly. Now observe. We are already
in the month of June. Towards the end of the
month (I can't be particular to a day) a year
will have elapsed from the time when we believe
the jewel to have been pledged. There is a
chance—to say the least—that the person who
pawned it, may be prepared to redeem it when
the year's time has expired. If he redeems it,
Mr. Luker must himself—according to the
terms of his own arrangement—take the
Diamond out of his bankers' hands. Under these
circumstances, I propose setting a watch at the
bank, as the present month draws to an end,
and discovering who the person is to whom Mr.
Luker restores the Moonstone. Do you see it
now?"

I admitted (a little unwillingly) that the idea
was a new one, at any rate.

"It's Mr. Murthwaite's idea quite as much
as mine," said Mr. Bruff. "It might have
never entered my head, but for a conversation
we had together some time since. If Mr.
Murthwaite is right, the Indians are likely to
be on the look-out at the bank, towards the end
of the month too—and something serious may
come of it. What comes of it doesn't matter to
you and me—except as it may help us to lay our
hands on the mysterious Somebody who pawned
the Diamond. That person, you may rely on it,
is responsible (I don't pretend to know how)
for the position in which you stand at this                                                     moment; and that person alone can set you right
in Rachel's estimation."

"I can't deny," I said, "that the plan you
propose meets the difficulty in a way that is
very daring, and very ingenious, and very new.
But——"

"But you have an objection to make?"

"Yes. My objection is, that your proposal
obliges us to wait."

"Granted. As I reckon the time, it
requires you to wait about a fortnight—more or
less. Is that so very long?"

"It's a life-time, Mr. Bruff, in such a situation
as mine. My existence will be simply
unendurable to me, unless I do something
towards clearing my character at once."

"Well, well, I understand that. Have you
thought yet of what you can do?"

"I have thought of consulting Sergeant Cuff."

"He has retired from the police. It's
useless to expect the Sergeant to help you."

"I know where to find him; and I can but
try."

"Try," said Mr. Bruff, after a moment's
consideration. "The case has assumed such an
extraordinary aspect since Sergeant Cuff's time,
that you may revive his interest in the inquiry.
Try, and let me hear the result. In the                                                     meanwhile," he continued, rising, "if you make no
discoveries between this, and the end of the
month, am I free to try, on my side, what can
be done by keeping a look-out at the bank?"

"Certainly," I answered—"unless I relieve
you of all necessity for trying the experiment
in the interval."

Mr. Bruff smiled, and took up his hat.

"Tell Sergeant Cuff," he rejoined, " that I
say the discovery of the truth depends on the
discovery of the person who pawned the
Diamond. And let me hear what the Sergeant's
experience says to that."

So we parted, for that night.

Early the next morning, I set forth for the little
town of Dorking—the place of Sergeant Cuff's
retirement, as indicated to me by Betteredge.

Inquiring at the hotel, I received the necessary
directions for finding the Sergeant's cottage.
It was approached by a quiet bye-road, a little
way out of the town, and it stood snugly in the
middle of its own plot of garden ground,                                                   protected by a good brick wall at the back and the
sides, and by a high quickset hedge in front.
The gate, ornamented at the upper part by
smartly-painted trellis-work, was locked. After
ringing at the bell, I peered through the trellis-
work, and saw the great Cuff's favourite flower
everywhere; blooming in his garden, clustering
over his door, looking in at his windows. Far
from the crimes and the mysteries of the great
city, the illustrious thief-taker was placidly living
out the last Sybarite years of his life, smothered
in roses!

A decent elderly woman opened the gate to
me, and at once annihilated all the hopes I
had built on securing the assistance of Sergeant
Cuff. He had started, only the day before, on
a journey to Ireland.

"Has he gone there on business?" I asked.

The woman smiled. " He has only one                                                                 business now, sir," she said; "and that's roses.
Some great man's gardener in Ireland has found
out something new in the growing of roses—
and Mr. Cuff's away to inquire into it."

"Do you know when he will be back?"

"It's quite uncertain, sir. Mr. Cuff said he
should come back directly, or be away some
time, just according as he found the new                                                           discovery worth nothing, or worth looking into.
If you have any message to leave for him, I'll
take care, sir, that he gets it."

I gave her my card, having first written on
it in pencil: "I have something to say about
the Moonstone. Let me hear from you as soon
as you get back." That done, there was nothing
left but to submit to circumstances, and return
to London.

In the irritable condition of my mind, at the
time of which I am now writing, the abortive
result of my journey to the Sergeant's cottage
simply aggravated the restless impulse in me
to be doing something. On the day of my
return from Dorking, I determined that the next
morning should find me bent on a new effort at
forcing my way, through all obstacles, from the
darkness to the light.

What form was my next experiment to take?

If the excellent Betteredge had been present
while I was considering that question, and if
he had been let into the secret of my thoughts,
he would, no doubt, have declared that the
German side of me was, on this occasion,
my uppermost side. To speak seriously,