The Moonstone
Page 250Mr. Bruff looked unaffectedly distressed.
"If you insist on an answer," he said, "I own I can place no other
interpretation on her conduct than that."
I rang the bell, and directed my servant to pack my portmanteau, and to
send out for a railway guide. Mr. Bruff asked, in astonishment, what I
was going to do.
"I am going to Yorkshire," I answered, "by the next train."
"May I ask for what purpose?"
"Mr. Bruff, the assistance I innocently rendered to the inquiry after
the Diamond was an unpardoned offence, in Rachel's mind, nearly a year
since; and it remains an unpardoned offence still. I won't accept that
her mother, and her enmity towards me. If time, pains, and money can do
it, I will lay my hand on the thief who took the Moonstone!"
The worthy old gentleman attempted to remonstrate--to induce me to
listen to reason--to do his duty towards me, in short. I was deaf to
everything that he could urge. No earthly consideration would, at that
moment, have shaken the resolution that was in me.
"I shall take up the inquiry again," I went on, "at the point where I
dropped it; and I shall follow it onwards, step by step, till I come to
the present time. There are missing links in the evidence, as I left it,
which Gabriel Betteredge can supply, and to Gabriel Betteredge I go!"
terrace, and looked once more at the peaceful old country house. The
gardener was the first person whom I saw in the deserted grounds. He had
left Betteredge, an hour since, sunning himself in the customary corner
of the back yard. I knew it well; and I said I would go and seek him
myself.
I walked round by the familiar paths and passages, and looked in at the
open gate of the yard.
There he was--the dear old friend of the happy days that were never to
come again--there he was in the old corner, on the old beehive chair,
with his pipe in his mouth, and his ROBINSON CRUSOE on his lap, and his
in which I stood, my shadow was projected in front of me by the last
slanting rays of the sun. Either the dogs saw it, or their keen scent
informed them of my approach; they started up with a growl. Starting
in his turn, the old man quieted them by a word, and then shaded his
failing eyes with his hand, and looked inquiringly at the figure at the
gate.
My own eyes were full of tears. I was obliged to wait a moment before I
could trust myself to speak to him.