"What I was about, while the household believed me to be lying down

in my own room; and how I spent the night, after shamming ill again at

tea-time, and having been sent up to bed, there is no need to tell you.

Sergeant Cuff discovered that much, if he discovered nothing more. And

I can guess how. I was detected (though I kept my veil down) in the

draper's shop at Frizinghall. There was a glass in front of me, at the

counter where I was buying the longcloth; and--in that glass--I saw one

of the shopmen point to my shoulder and whisper to another. At night

again, when I was secretly at work, locked into my room, I heard the

breathing of the women servants who suspected me, outside my door.

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"It didn't matter then; it doesn't matter now. On the Friday morning,

hours before Sergeant Cuff entered the house, there was the new

nightgown--to make up your number in place of the nightgown that I had

got--made, wrung out, dried, ironed, marked, and folded as the laundry

woman folded all the others, safe in your drawer. There was no fear (if

the linen in the house was examined) of the newness of the nightgown

betraying me. All your underclothing had been renewed, when you came to

our house--I suppose on your return home from foreign parts.

"The next thing was the arrival of Sergeant Cuff; and the next great

surprise was the announcement of what HE thought about the smear on the

door.

"I had believed you to be guilty (as I have owned), more because I

wanted you to be guilty than for any other reason. And now, the Sergeant

had come round by a totally different way to the same conclusion

(respecting the nightgown) as mine! And I had got the dress that was

the only proof against you! And not a living creature knew it--yourself

included! I am afraid to tell you how I felt when I called these things

to mind--you would hate my memory for ever afterwards."

At that place, Betteredge looked up from the letter.

"Not a glimmer of light so far, Mr. Franklin," said the old man, taking

off his heavy tortoiseshell spectacles, and pushing Rosanna Spearman's

confession a little away from him. "Have you come to any conclusion,

sir, in your own mind, while I have been reading?"

"Finish the letter first, Betteredge; there may be something to

enlighten us at the end of it. I shall have a word or two to say to you

after that."

"Very good, sir. I'll just rest my eyes, and then I'll go on again. In

the meantime, Mr. Franklin--I don't want to hurry you--but would you

mind telling me, in one word, whether you see your way out of this

dreadful mess yet?"




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