The Moonstone

With those parting words she limped away from me at the top of her

speed. The one interpretation that I could put on her conduct has, no

doubt, been anticipated by everybody. I could only suppose that she was

mad.

Having reached that inevitable conclusion, I turned to the more

interesting object of investigation which was presented to me by Rosanna

Spearman's letter. The address was written as follows:--"For Franklin

Blake, Esq. To be given into his own hands (and not to be trusted to any

one else), by Lucy Yolland."

I broke the seal. The envelope contained a letter: and this, in its

turn, contained a slip of paper. I read the letter first:-"Sir,--If you are curious to know the meaning of my behaviour to you,

whilst you were staying in the house of my mistress, Lady Verinder, do

what you are told to do in the memorandum enclosed with this--and do it

without any person being present to overlook you. Your humble servant, "ROSANNA SPEARMAN."

I turned to the slip of paper next. Here is the literal copy of it, word

for word: "Memorandum:--To go to the Shivering Sand at the turn of the tide. To

walk out on the South Spit, until I get the South Spit Beacon, and

the flagstaff at the Coast-guard station above Cobb's Hole in a line

together. To lay down on the rocks, a stick, or any straight thing to

guide my hand, exactly in the line of the beacon and the flagstaff. To

take care, in doing this, that one end of the stick shall be at the edge

of the rocks, on the side of them which overlooks the quicksand. To feel

along the stick, among the sea-weed (beginning from the end of the stick

which points towards the beacon), for the Chain. To run my hand along

the Chain, when found, until I come to the part of it which stretches

over the edge of the rocks, down into the quicksand. AND THEN TO PULL

THE CHAIN."

Just as I had read the last words--underlined in the original--I heard

the voice of Betteredge behind me. The inventor of the detective-fever

had completely succumbed to that irresistible malady. "I can't stand it

any longer, Mr. Franklin. What does her letter say? For mercy's sake,

sir, tell us, what does her letter say?"

I handed him the letter, and the memorandum. He read the first

without appearing to be much interested in it. But the second--the

memorandum--produced a strong impression on him.

"The Sergeant said it!" cried Betteredge. "From first to last, sir, the

Sergeant said she had got a memorandum of the hiding-place. And here

it is! Lord save us, Mr. Franklin, here is the secret that puzzled

everybody, from the great Cuff downwards, ready and waiting, as one may

say, to show itself to YOU! It's the ebb now, sir, as anybody may see

for themselves. How long will it be till the turn of the tide?" He

looked up, and observed a lad at work, at some little distance from us,

mending a net. "Tammie Bright!" he shouted at the top of his voice.