The Moonstone

Devoting myself once more to the elucidation of the impenetrable

puzzle which my own position presented to me, I now tried to meet the

difficulty by investigating it from a plainly practical point of view.

The events of the memorable night being still unintelligible to me,

I looked a little farther back, and searched my memory of the earlier

hours of the birthday for any incident which might prove of some

assistance to me in finding the clue.

Had anything happened while Rachel and I were finishing the painted

door? or, later, when I rode over to Frizinghall? or afterwards, when I

went back with Godfrey Ablewhite and his sisters? or, later again,

when I put the Moonstone into Rachel's hands? or, later still, when the

company came, and we all assembled round the dinner-table? My memory

disposed of that string of questions readily enough, until I came to the

last. Looking back at the social event of the birthday dinner, I found

myself brought to a standstill at the outset of the inquiry. I was not

even capable of accurately remembering the number of the guests who had

sat at the same table with me.

To feel myself completely at fault here, and to conclude, thereupon,

that the incidents of the dinner might especially repay the trouble of

investigating them, formed parts of the same mental process, in my case.

I believe other people, in a similar situation, would have reasoned as

I did. When the pursuit of our own interests causes us to become objects

of inquiry to ourselves, we are naturally suspicious of what we don't

know. Once in possession of the names of the persons who had been

present at the dinner, I resolved--as a means of enriching the deficient

resources of my own memory--to appeal to the memory of the rest of the

guests; to write down all that they could recollect of the social events

of the birthday; and to test the result, thus obtained, by the light of

what had happened afterwards, when the company had left the house.

This last and newest of my many contemplated experiments in the art

of inquiry--which Betteredge would probably have attributed to the

clear-headed, or French, side of me being uppermost for the moment--may

fairly claim record here, on its own merits. Unlikely as it may seem, I

had now actually groped my way to the root of the matter at last. All I

wanted was a hint to guide me in the right direction at starting. Before

another day had passed over my head, that hint was given me by one of

the company who had been present at the birthday feast!

With the plan of proceeding which I now had in view, it was first

necessary to possess the complete list of the guests. This I could

easily obtain from Gabriel Betteredge. I determined to go back to

Yorkshire on that day, and to begin my contemplated investigation the

next morning.