The Moonstone

So, as told in our camp, ran the fanciful story of the Moonstone. It

made no serious impression on any of us except my cousin--whose love

of the marvellous induced him to believe it. On the night before the

assault on Seringapatam, he was absurdly angry with me, and with others,

for treating the whole thing as a fable. A foolish wrangle followed; and

Herncastle's unlucky temper got the better of him. He declared, in

his boastful way, that we should see the Diamond on his finger, if

the English army took Seringapatam. The sally was saluted by a roar of

laughter, and there, as we all thought that night, the thing ended.

Let me now take you on to the day of the assault. My cousin and I were

separated at the outset. I never saw him when we forded the river; when

we planted the English flag in the first breach; when we crossed the

ditch beyond; and, fighting every inch of our way, entered the town.

It was only at dusk, when the place was ours, and after General Baird

himself had found the dead body of Tippoo under a heap of the slain,

that Herncastle and I met.

We were each attached to a party sent out by the general's orders to

prevent the plunder and confusion which followed our conquest. The

camp-followers committed deplorable excesses; and, worse still, the

soldiers found their way, by a guarded door, into the treasury of the

Palace, and loaded themselves with gold and jewels. It was in the court

outside the treasury that my cousin and I met, to enforce the laws of

discipline on our own soldiers. Herncastle's fiery temper had been, as

I could plainly see, exasperated to a kind of frenzy by the terrible

slaughter through which we had passed. He was very unfit, in my opinion,

to perform the duty that had been entrusted to him.

There was riot and confusion enough in the treasury, but no violence

that I saw. The men (if I may use such an expression) disgraced

themselves good-humouredly. All sorts of rough jests and catchwords were

bandied about among them; and the story of the Diamond turned up

again unexpectedly, in the form of a mischievous joke. "Who's got

the Moonstone?" was the rallying cry which perpetually caused the

plundering, as soon as it was stopped in one place, to break out in

another. While I was still vainly trying to establish order, I heard a

frightful yelling on the other side of the courtyard, and at once ran

towards the cries, in dread of finding some new outbreak of the pillage

in that direction.

I got to an open door, and saw the bodies of two Indians (by their

dress, as I guessed, officers of the palace) lying across the entrance,

dead.