I can hardly tell whether I was more startled or distressed at hearing

him say that. If I had been younger, I might have confessed as much to

Mr. Franklin. But when you are old, you acquire one excellent habit. In

cases where you don't see your way clearly, you hold your tongue.

"She came in here with a ring I dropped in my bed-room," Mr. Franklin

went on. "When I had thanked her, of course I expected her to go.

Instead of that, she stood opposite to me at the table, looking at me in

the oddest manner--half frightened, and half familiar--I couldn't make

it out. 'This is a strange thing about the Diamond, sir,' she said, in a

curiously sudden, headlong way. I said, 'Yes, it was,' and wondered what

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was coming next. Upon my honour, Betteredge, I think she must be wrong

in the head! She said, 'They will never find the Diamond, sir, will

they? No! nor the person who took it--I'll answer for that.' She

actually nodded and smiled at me! Before I could ask her what she meant,

we heard your step outside. I suppose she was afraid of your catching

her here. At any rate, she changed colour, and left the room. What on

earth does it mean?"

I could not bring myself to tell him the girl's story, even then. It

would have been almost as good as telling him that she was the thief.

Besides, even if I had made a clean breast of it, and even supposing

she was the thief, the reason why she should let out her secret to Mr.

Franklin, of all the people in the world, would have been still as far

to seek as ever.

"I can't bear the idea of getting the poor girl into a scrape, merely

because she has a flighty way with her, and talks very strangely," Mr.

Franklin went on. "And yet if she had said to, the Superintendent what

she said to me, fool as he is, I'm afraid----" He stopped there, and

left the rest unspoken.

"The best way, sir," I said, "will be for me to say two words privately

to my mistress about it at the first opportunity. My lady has a very

friendly interest in Rosanna; and the girl may only have been forward

and foolish, after all. When there's a mess of any kind in a house, sir,

the women-servants like to look at the gloomy side--it gives the poor

wretches a kind of importance in their own eyes. If there's anybody

ill, trust the women for prophesying that the person will die. If it's

a jewel lost, trust them for prophesying that it will never be found

again."

This view (which I am bound to say, I thought a probable view myself,

on reflection) seemed to relieve Mr. Franklin mightily: he folded up his

telegram, and dismissed the subject. On my way to the stables, to order

the pony-chaise, I looked in at the servants' hall, where they were at

dinner. Rosanna Spearman was not among them. On inquiry, I found that

she had been suddenly taken ill, and had gone up-stairs to her own room

to lie down.




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