The Moonstone

The Indian made me a last bow, the lowest of all--and suddenly and

softly walked out of the room.

It was done in a moment, in a noiseless, supple, cat-like way, which a

little startled me, I own. As soon as I was composed enough to think,

I arrived at one distinct conclusion in reference to the otherwise

incomprehensible visitor who had favoured me with a call.

His face, voice, and manner--while I was in his company--were under such

perfect control that they set all scrutiny at defiance. But he had given

me one chance of looking under the smooth outer surface of him, for all

that. He had not shown the slightest sign of attempting to fix anything

that I had said to him in his mind, until I mentioned the time at which

it was customary to permit the earliest repayment, on the part of a

debtor, of money that had been advanced as a loan. When I gave him that

piece of information, he looked me straight in the face, while I was

speaking, for the first time. The inference I drew from this was--that

he had a special purpose in asking me his last question, and a special

interest in hearing my answer to it. The more carefully I reflected on

what had passed between us, the more shrewdly I suspected the production

of the casket, and the application for the loan, of having been mere

formalities, designed to pave the way for the parting inquiry addressed

to me.

I had satisfied myself of the correctness of this conclusion--and was

trying to get on a step further, and penetrate the Indian's motives

next--when a letter was brought to me, which proved to be from no less

a person that Mr. Septimus Luker himself. He asked my pardon in terms of

sickening servility, and assured me that he could explain matters to

my satisfaction, if I would honour him by consenting to a personal

interview.

I made another unprofessional sacrifice to mere curiosity. I honoured

him by making an appointment at my office, for the next day.

Mr. Luker was, in every respect, such an inferior creature to the

Indian--he was so vulgar, so ugly, so cringing, and so prosy--that he

is quite unworthy of being reported, at any length, in these pages. The

substance of what he had to tell me may be fairly stated as follows: The day before I had received the visit of the Indian, Mr. Luker had

been favoured with a call from that accomplished gentleman. In spite of

his European disguise, Mr. Luker had instantly identified his visitor

with the chief of the three Indians, who had formerly annoyed him by

loitering about his house, and who had left him no alternative but to

consult a magistrate. From this startling discovery he had rushed to

the conclusion (naturally enough I own) that he must certainly be in the

company of one of the three men, who had blindfolded him, gagged him,

and robbed him of his banker's receipt. The result was that he became

quite paralysed with terror, and that he firmly believed his last hour

had come.