"Not just yet, if you please, sir," said a melancholy voice behind us.

We both turned about, and found ourselves face to face with Sergeant

Cuff.

"Why not just yet?" asked Mr. Franklin.

"Because, sir, if you tell her ladyship, her ladyship will tell Miss

Verinder."

"Suppose she does. What then?" Mr. Franklin said those words with a

sudden heat and vehemence, as if the Sergeant had mortally offended him.

"Do you think it's wise, sir," said Sergeant Cuff, quietly, "to put such

a question as that to me--at such a time as this?"

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There was a moment's silence between them: Mr. Franklin walked close

up to the Sergeant. The two looked each other straight in the face. Mr.

Franklin spoke first, dropping his voice as suddenly as he had raised

it.

"I suppose you know, Mr. Cuff," he said, "that you are treading on

delicate ground?"

"It isn't the first time, by a good many hundreds, that I find myself

treading on delicate ground," answered the other, as immovable as ever.

"I am to understand that you forbid me to tell my aunt what has

happened?"

"You are to understand, if you please, sir, that I throw up the case, if

you tell Lady Verinder, or tell anybody, what has happened, until I give

you leave."

That settled it. Mr. Franklin had no choice but to submit. He turned

away in anger--and left us.

I had stood there listening to them, all in a tremble; not knowing whom

to suspect, or what to think next. In the midst of my confusion, two

things, however, were plain to me. First, that my young lady was, in

some unaccountable manner, at the bottom of the sharp speeches that had

passed between them. Second, that they thoroughly understood each other,

without having previously exchanged a word of explanation on either

side.

"Mr. Betteredge," says the Sergeant, "you have done a very foolish thing

in my absence. You have done a little detective business on your own

account. For the future, perhaps you will be so obliging as to do your

detective business along with me."

He took me by the arm, and walked me away with him along the road by

which he had come. I dare say I had deserved his reproof--but I was not

going to help him to set traps for Rosanna Spearman, for all that. Thief

or no thief, legal or not legal, I don't care--I pitied her.

"What do you want of me?" I asked, shaking him off, and stopping short.

"Only a little information about the country round here," said the

Sergeant.

I couldn't well object to improve Sergeant Cuff in his geography.

"Is there any path, in that direction, leading to the sea-beach from

this house?" asked the Sergeant. He pointed, as he spoke, to the

fir-plantation which led to the Shivering Sand.




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