I walked to the railway station accompanied, it is needless to say, by

Gabriel Betteredge. I had the letter in my pocket, and the nightgown

safely packed in a little bag--both to be submitted, before I slept that

night, to the investigation of Mr. Bruff.

We left the house in silence. For the first time in my experience of

him, I found old Betteredge in my company without a word to say to me.

Having something to say on my side, I opened the conversation as soon as

we were clear of the lodge gates.

"Before I go to London," I began, "I have two questions to ask you. They

relate to myself, and I believe they will rather surprise you."

"If they will put that poor creature's letter out of my head, Mr.

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Franklin, they may do anything else they like with me. Please to begin

surprising me, sir, as soon as you can."

"My first question, Betteredge, is this. Was I drunk on the night of

Rachel's Birthday?"

"YOU drunk!" exclaimed the old man. "Why it's the great defect of your

character, Mr. Franklin that you only drink with your dinner, and never

touch a drop of liquor afterwards!"

"But the birthday was a special occasion. I might have abandoned my

regular habits, on that night of all others."

Betteredge considered for a moment.

"You did go out of your habits, sir," he said. "And I'll tell you how.

You looked wretchedly ill--and we persuaded you to have a drop of brandy

and water to cheer you up a little."

"I am not used to brandy and water. It is quite possible----"

"Wait a bit, Mr. Franklin. I knew you were not used, too. I poured you

out half a wineglass-full of our fifty year old Cognac; and (more shame

for me!) I drowned that noble liquor in nigh on a tumbler-full of cold

water. A child couldn't have got drunk on it--let alone a grown man!"

I knew I could depend on his memory, in a matter of this kind. It was

plainly impossible that I could have been intoxicated. I passed on to

the second question.

"Before I was sent abroad, Betteredge, you saw a great deal of me when I

was a boy? Now tell me plainly, do you remember anything strange of me,

after I had gone to bed at night? Did you ever discover me walking in my

sleep?"

Betteredge stopped, looked at me for a moment, nodded his head, and

walked on again.

"I see your drift now, Mr. Franklin!" he said "You're trying to

account for how you got the paint on your nightgown, without knowing it

yourself. It won't do, sir. You're miles away still from getting at the

truth. Walk in your sleep? You never did such a thing in your life!"




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