"You shall judge for yourself, Sergeant." I thereupon read him the
letter (with my best emphasis and discretion), in the following words: "MY GOOD GABRIEL,--I request that you will inform Sergeant Cuff, that
I have performed the promise I made to him; with this result, so far as
Rosanna Spearman is concerned. Miss Verinder solemnly declares, that she
has never spoken a word in private to Rosanna, since that unhappy woman
first entered my house. They never met, even accidentally, on the night
when the Diamond was lost; and no communication of any sort whatever
took place between them, from the Thursday morning when the alarm was
first raised in the house, to this present Saturday afternoon, when Miss
Verinder left us. After telling my daughter suddenly, and in so many
words, of Rosanna Spearman's suicide--this is what has come of it."
Having reached that point, I looked up, and asked Sergeant Cuff what he
thought of the letter, so far?
"I should only offend you if I expressed MY opinion," answered the
Sergeant. "Go on, Mr. Betteredge," he said, with the most exasperating
resignation, "go on."
When I remembered that this man had had the audacity to complain of our
gardener's obstinacy, my tongue itched to "go on" in other words than my
mistress's. This time, however, my Christianity held firm. I proceeded
steadily with her ladyship's letter: "Having appealed to Miss Verinder in the manner which the officer
thought most desirable, I spoke to her next in the manner which I myself
thought most likely to impress her. On two different occasions, before
my daughter left my roof, I privately warned her that she was exposing
herself to suspicion of the most unendurable and most degrading kind.
I have now told her, in the plainest terms, that my apprehensions have
been realised.
"Her answer to this, on her own solemn affirmation, is as plain as words
can be. In the first place, she owes no money privately to any living
creature. In the second place, the Diamond is not now, and never has
been, in her possession, since she put it into her cabinet on Wednesday
night.
"The confidence which my daughter has placed in me goes no further than
this. She maintains an obstinate silence, when I ask her if she can
explain the disappearance of the Diamond. She refuses, with tears, when
I appeal to her to speak out for my sake. 'The day will come when you
will know why I am careless about being suspected, and why I am silent
even to you. I have done much to make my mother pity me--nothing to make
my mother blush for me.' Those are my daughter's own words.
"After what has passed between the officer and me, I think--stranger
as he is--that he should be made acquainted with what Miss Verinder has
said, as well as you. Read my letter to him, and then place in his
hands the cheque which I enclose. In resigning all further claim on his
services, I have only to say that I am convinced of his honesty and
his intelligence; but I am more firmly persuaded than ever, that the
circumstances, in this case, have fatally misled him."