The Moonstone

  CHAPTER II

  Mr. Godfrey followed the announcement of his name--as Mr. Godfrey doeseverything else--exactly at the right time. He was not so close on theservant's heels as to startle us. He was not so far behind as to causeus the double inconvenience of a pause and an open door. It is in thecompleteness of his daily life that the true Christian appears. Thisdear man was very complete.

  "Go to Miss Verinder," said my aunt, addressing the servant, "and tellher Mr. Ablewhite is here."

  We both inquired after his health. We both asked him together whether hefelt like himself again, after his terrible adventure of the past week.With perfect tact, he contrived to answer us at the same moment. LadyVerinder had his reply in words. I had his charming smile.

  "What," he cried, with infinite tenderness, "have I done to deserveall this sympathy? My dear aunt! my dear Miss Clack! I have merely beenmistaken for somebody else. I have only been blindfolded; I have onlybeen strangled; I have only been thrown flat on my back, on a very thincarpet, covering a particularly hard floor. Just think how much worse itmight have been! I might have been murdered; I might have been robbed.What have I lost? Nothing but Nervous Force--which the law doesn'trecognise as property; so that, strictly speaking, I have lost nothingat all. If I could have had my own way, I would have kept my adventureto myself--I shrink from all this fuss and publicity. But Mr. Luker madeHIS injuries public, and my injuries, as the necessary consequence,have been proclaimed in their turn. I have become the property of thenewspapers, until the gentle reader gets sick of the subject. I am verysick indeed of it myself. May the gentle reader soon be like me! And howis dear Rachel? Still enjoying the gaieties of London? So glad to hearit! Miss Clack, I need all your indulgence. I am sadly behind-hand withmy Committee Work and my dear Ladies. But I really do hope to look in atthe Mothers'-Small-Clothes next week. Did you make cheering progress atMonday's Committee? Was the Board hopeful about future prospects? Andare we nicely off for Trousers?"

  The heavenly gentleness of his smile made his apologies irresistible.The richness of his deep voice added its own indescribable charm tothe interesting business question which he had just addressed to me.In truth, we were almost TOO nicely off for Trousers; we were quiteoverwhelmed by them. I was just about to say so, when the door openedagain, and an element of worldly disturbance entered the room, in theperson of Miss Verinder.

  She approached dear Mr. Godfrey at a most unladylike rate of speed,with her hair shockingly untidy, and her face, what I should call,unbecomingly flushed.

  "I am charmed to see you, Godfrey," she said, addressing him, I grieveto add, in the off-hand manner of one young man talking to another."I wish you had brought Mr. Luker with you. You and he (as long asour present excitement lasts) are the two most interesting men inall London. It's morbid to say this; it's unhealthy; it's all that awell-regulated mind like Miss Clack's most instinctively shudders at.Never mind that. Tell me the whole of the Northumberland Street storydirectly. I know the newspapers have left some of it out."

  Even dear Mr. Godfrey partakes of the fallen nature which we all inheritfrom Adam--it is a very small share of our human legacy, but, alas! hehas it. I confess it grieved me to see him take Rachel's hand in both ofhis own hands, and lay it softly on the left side of his waistcoat.It was a direct encouragement to her reckless way of talking, and herinsolent reference to me.

  "Dearest Rachel," he said, in the same voice which had thrilled me whenhe spoke of our prospects and our trousers, "the newspapers have toldyou everything--and they have told it much better than I can."

  "Godfrey thinks we all make too much of the matter," my aunt remarked."He has just been saying that he doesn't care to speak of it."

  "Why?"

  She put the question with a sudden flash in her eyes, and a sudden lookup into Mr. Godfrey's face. On his side, he looked down at her with anindulgence so injudicious and so ill-deserved, that I really felt calledon to interfere.

  "Rachel, darling!" I remonstrated gently, "true greatness and truecourage are ever modest."

  "You are a very good fellow in your way, Godfrey," she said--not takingthe smallest notice, observe, of me, and still speaking to her cousinas if she was one young man addressing another. "But I am quite sure youare not great; I don't believe you possess any extraordinary courage;and I am firmly persuaded--if you ever had any modesty--that yourlady-worshippers relieved you of that virtue a good many years since.You have some private reason for not talking of your adventure inNorthumberland Street; and I mean to know it."

  "My reason is the simplest imaginable, and the most easilyacknowledged," he answered, still bearing with her. "I am tired of thesubject."

  "You are tired of the subject? My dear Godfrey, I am going to make aremark."

  "What is it?"

  "You live a great deal too much in the society of women. And you havecontracted two very bad habits in consequence. You have learnt to talknonsense seriously, and you have got into a way of telling fibs forthe pleasure of telling them. You can't go straight with yourlady-worshippers. I mean to make you go straight with me. Come, andsit down. I am brimful of downright questions; and I expect you to bebrimful of downright answers."

  She actually dragged him across the room to a chair by the window, wherethe light would fall on his face. I deeply feel being obliged to reportsuch language, and to describe such conduct. But, hemmed in, as I am,between Mr. Franklin Blake's cheque on one side and my own sacred regardfor truth on the other, what am I to do? I looked at my aunt. She satunmoved; apparently in no way disposed to interfere. I had never noticedthis kind of torpor in her before. It was, perhaps, the reaction afterthe trying time she had had in the country. Not a pleasant symptom toremark, be it what it might, at dear Lady Verinder's age, and with dearLady Verinder's autumnal exuberance of figure.

  In the meantime, Rachel had settled herself at the window with ouramiable and forbearing--our too forbearing--Mr. Godfrey. She began thestring of questions with which she had threatened him, taking no morenotice of her mother, or of myself, than if we had not been in the room.

  "Have the police done anything, Godfrey?"

  "Nothing whatever."

  "It is certain, I suppose, that the three men who laid the trap for youwere the same three men who afterwards laid the trap for Mr. Luker?"

  "Humanly speaking, my dear Rachel, there can be no doubt of it."

  "And not a trace of them has been discovered?"

  "Not a trace."

  "It is thought--is it not?--that these three men are the three Indianswho came to our house in the country."

  "Some people think so."

  "Do you think so?"

  "My dear Rachel, they blindfolded me before I could see their faces. Iknow nothing whatever of the matter. How can I offer an opinion on it?"

  Even the angelic gentleness of Mr. Godfrey was, you see, beginningto give way at last under the persecution inflicted on him. Whetherunbridled curiosity, or ungovernable dread, dictated Miss Verinder'squestions I do not presume to inquire. I only report that, on Mr.Godfrey's attempting to rise, after giving her the answer justdescribed, she actually took him by the two shoulders, and pushed himback into his chair--Oh, don't say this was immodest! don't even hintthat the recklessness of guilty terror could alone account for suchconduct as I have described! We must not judge others. My Christianfriends, indeed, indeed, indeed, we must not judge others!

  She went on with her questions, unabashed. Earnest Biblical studentswill perhaps be reminded--as I was reminded--of the blinded children ofthe devil, who went on with their orgies, unabashed, in the time beforethe Flood.

  "I want to know something about Mr. Luker, Godfrey."

  "I am again unfortunate, Rachel. No man knows less of Mr. Luker than Ido."

  "You never saw him before you and he met accidentally at the bank?"

  "Never."

  "You have seen him since?"

  "Yes. We have been examined together, as well as separately, to assistthe police."

/>   "Mr. Luker was robbed of a receipt which he had got from hisbanker's--was he not? What was the receipt for?"

  "For a valuable gem which he had placed in the safe keeping of thebank."

  "That's what the newspapers say. It may be enough for the generalreader; but it is not enough for me. The banker's receipt must havementioned what the gem was?"

  "The banker's receipt, Rachel--as I have heard it described--mentionednothing of the kind. A valuable gem, belonging to Mr. Luker; depositedby Mr. Luker; sealed with Mr. Luker's seal; and only to be given up onMr. Luker's personal application. That was the form, and that is all Iknow about it."

  She waited a moment, after he had said that. She looked at her mother,and sighed. She looked back again at Mr. Godfrey, and went on.

  "Some of our private affairs, at home," she said, "seem to have got intothe newspapers?"

  "I grieve to say, it is so."

  "And some idle people, perfect strangers to us, are trying to trace aconnexion between what happened at our house in Yorkshire and what hashappened since, here in London?"

  "The public curiosity, in certain quarters, is, I fear, taking thatturn."

  "The people who say that the three unknown men who ill-used you and Mr.Luker are the three Indians, also say that the valuable gem----"

  There she stopped. She had become gradually, within the last fewmoments, whiter and whiter in the face. The extraordinary blackness ofher hair made this paleness, by contrast, so ghastly to look at, that weall thought she would faint, at the moment when she checked herself inthe middle of her question. Dear Mr. Godfrey made a second attempt toleave his chair. My aunt entreated her to say no more. I followed myaunt with a modest medicinal peace-offering, in the shape of a bottleof salts. We none of us produced the slightest effect on her. "Godfrey,stay where you are. Mamma, there is not the least reason to be alarmedabout me. Clack, you're dying to hear the end of it--I won't faint,expressly to oblige YOU."

  Those were the exact words she used--taken down in my diary the momentI got home. But, oh, don't let us judge! My Christian friends, don't letus judge!

  She turned once more to Mr. Godfrey. With an obstinacy dreadful to see,she went back again to the place where she had checked herself, andcompleted her question in these words:

  "I spoke to you, a minute since, about what people were saying incertain quarters. Tell me plainly, Godfrey, do they any of them say thatMr. Luker's valuable gem is--the Moonstone?"

  As the name of the Indian Diamond passed her lips, I saw a change comeover my admirable friend. His complexion deepened. He lost thegenial suavity of manner which is one of his greatest charms. A nobleindignation inspired his reply.

  "They DO say it," he answered. "There are people who don't hesitate toaccuse Mr. Luker of telling a falsehood to serve some private interestsof his own. He has over and over again solemnly declared that, untilthis scandal assailed him, he had never even heard of the Moonstone. Andthese vile people reply, without a shadow of proof to justify them, Hehas his reasons for concealment; we decline to believe him on his oath.Shameful! shameful!"

  Rachel looked at him very strangely--I can't well describe how--while hewas speaking. When he had done, she said, "Considering that Mr. Lukeris only a chance acquaintance of yours, you take up his cause, Godfrey,rather warmly."

  My gifted friend made her one of the most truly evangelical answers Iever heard in my life.

  "I hope, Rachel, I take up the cause of all oppressed people ratherwarmly," he said.

  The tone in which those words were spoken might have melted a stone.But, oh dear, what is the hardness of stone? Nothing, compared to thehardness of the unregenerate human heart! She sneered. I blush to recordit--she sneered at him to his face.

  "Keep your noble sentiments for your Ladies' Committees, Godfrey. I amcertain that the scandal which has assailed Mr. Luker, has not sparedYou."

  Even my aunt's torpor was roused by those words.

  "My dear Rachel," she remonstrated, "you have really no right to saythat!"

  "I mean no harm, mamma--I mean good. Have a moment's patience with me,and you will see."

  She looked back at Mr. Godfrey, with what appeared to be a sudden pityfor him. She went the length--the very unladylike length--of taking himby the hand.

  "I am certain," she said, "that I have found out the true reason of yourunwillingness to speak of this matter before my mother and before me.An unlucky accident has associated you in people's minds with Mr. Luker.You have told me what scandal says of HIM. What does scandal say ofyou?"

  Even at the eleventh hour, dear Mr. Godfrey--always ready to return goodfor evil--tried to spare her.

  "Don't ask me!" he said. "It's better forgotten, Rachel--it is, indeed."

  "I WILL hear it!" she cried out, fiercely, at the top of her voice.

  "Tell her, Godfrey!" entreated my aunt. "Nothing can do her such harm asyour silence is doing now!"

  Mr. Godfrey's fine eyes filled with tears. He cast one last appealinglook at her--and then he spoke the fatal words:

  "If you will have it, Rachel--scandal says that the Moonstone is inpledge to Mr. Luker, and that I am the man who has pawned it."

  She started to her feet with a scream. She looked backwards and forwardsfrom Mr. Godfrey to my aunt, and from my aunt to Mr. Godfrey, in such afrantic manner that I really thought she had gone mad.

  "Don't speak to me! Don't touch me!" she exclaimed, shrinking back fromall of us (I declare like some hunted animal!) into a corner ofthe room. "This is my fault! I must set it right. I have sacrificedmyself--I had a right to do that, if I liked. But to let an innocent manbe ruined; to keep a secret which destroys his character for life--Oh,good God, it's too horrible! I can't bear it!"

  My aunt half rose from her chair, then suddenly sat down again. Shecalled to me faintly, and pointed to a little phial in her work-box.

  "Quick!" she whispered. "Six drops, in water. Don't let Rachel see."

  Under other circumstances, I should have thought this strange. There wasno time now to think--there was only time to give the medicine. Dear Mr.Godfrey unconsciously assisted me in concealing what I was about fromRachel, by speaking composing words to her at the other end of the room.

  "Indeed, indeed, you exaggerate," I heard him say. "My reputation standstoo high to be destroyed by a miserable passing scandal like this. Itwill be all forgotten in another week. Let us never speak of it again."She was perfectly inaccessible, even to such generosity as this. Shewent on from bad to worse.

  "I must, and will, stop it," she said. "Mamma! hear what I say. MissClack! hear what I say. I know the hand that took the Moonstone. Iknow--" she laid a strong emphasis on the words; she stamped her foot inthe rage that possessed her--"I KNOW THAT GODFREY ABLEWHITE IS INNOCENT.Take me to the magistrate, Godfrey! Take me to the magistrate, and Iwill swear it!"

  My aunt caught me by the hand, and whispered, "Stand between us for aminute or two. Don't let Rachel see me." I noticed a bluish tinge in herface which alarmed me. She saw I was startled. "The drops will put meright in a minute or two," she said, and so closed her eyes, and waiteda little.

  While this was going on, I heard dear Mr. Godfrey still gentlyremonstrating.

  "You must not appear publicly in such a thing as this," he said. "YOURreputation, dearest Rachel, is something too pure and too sacred to betrifled with."

  "MY reputation!" She burst out laughing. "Why, I am accused, Godfrey, aswell as you. The best detective officer in England declares that I havestolen my own Diamond. Ask him what he thinks--and he will tell you thatI have pledged the Moonstone to pay my private debts!" She stopped, ranacross the room--and fell on her knees at her mother's feet. "Oh mamma!mamma! mamma! I must be mad--mustn't I?--not to own the truth NOW?" Shewas too vehement to notice her mother's condition--she was on her feetagain, and back with Mr. Godfrey, in an instant. "I won't let you--Iwon't let any innocent man--be accused and disgraced through my fault.If you won't take me before the magistrate, draw out a declaration ofyou
r innocence on paper, and I will sign it. Do as I tell you, Godfrey,or I'll write it to the newspapers I'll go out, and cry it in thestreets!"

  We will not say this was the language of remorse--we will say it was thelanguage of hysterics. Indulgent Mr. Godfrey pacified her by takinga sheet of paper, and drawing out the declaration. She signed it in afeverish hurry. "Show it everywhere--don't think of ME," she said, asshe gave it to him. "I am afraid, Godfrey, I have not done you justice,hitherto, in my thoughts. You are more unselfish--you are a better manthan I believed you to be. Come here when you can, and I will try andrepair the wrong I have done you."

  She gave him her hand. Alas, for our fallen nature! Alas, for Mr.Godfrey! He not only forgot himself so far as to kiss her hand--headopted a gentleness of tone in answering her which, in such a case,was little better than a compromise with sin. "I will come, dearest," hesaid, "on condition that we don't speak of this hateful subject again."Never had I seen and heard our Christian Hero to less advantage than onthis occasion.

  Before another word could be said by anybody, a thundering knock at thestreet door startled us all. I looked through the window, and saw theWorld, the Flesh, and the Devil waiting before the house--as typifiedin a carriage and horses, a powdered footman, and three of the mostaudaciously dressed women I ever beheld in my life.

  Rachel started, and composed herself. She crossed the room to hermother.

  "They have come to take me to the flower-show," she said. "One word,mamma, before I go. I have not distressed you, have I?"

  (Is the bluntness of moral feeling which could ask such a question asthat, after what had just happened, to be pitied or condemned? I like tolean towards mercy. Let us pity it.)

  The drops had produced their effect. My poor aunt's complexion was likeitself again. "No, no, my dear," she said. "Go with our friends, andenjoy yourself."

  Her daughter stooped, and kissed her. I had left the window, and wasnear the door, when Rachel approached it to go out. Another change hadcome over her--she was in tears. I looked with interest at the momentarysoftening of that obdurate heart. I felt inclined to say a few earnestwords. Alas! my well-meant sympathy only gave offence. "What do youmean by pitying me?" she asked in a bitter whisper, as she passed tothe door. "Don't you see how happy I am? I'm going to the flower-show,Clack; and I've got the prettiest bonnet in London." She completed thehollow mockery of that address by blowing me a kiss--and so left theroom.

  I wish I could describe in words the compassion I felt for thismiserable and misguided girl. But I am almost as poorly provided withwords as with money. Permit me to say--my heart bled for her.

  Returning to my aunt's chair, I observed dear Mr. Godfrey searching forsomething softly, here and there, in different parts of the room. BeforeI could offer to assist him he had found what he wanted. He came back tomy aunt and me, with his declaration of innocence in one hand, and witha box of matches in the other.

  "Dear aunt, a little conspiracy!" he said. "Dear Miss Clack, a piousfraud which even your high moral rectitude will excuse! Will you leaveRachel to suppose that I accept the generous self-sacrifice which hassigned this paper? And will you kindly bear witness that I destroy itin your presence, before I leave the house?" He kindled a match, and,lighting the paper, laid it to burn in a plate on the table. "Anytrifling inconvenience that I may suffer is as nothing," he remarked,"compared with the importance of preserving that pure name from thecontaminating contact of the world. There! We have reduced it to alittle harmless heap of ashes; and our dear impulsive Rachel will neverknow what we have done! How do you feel? My precious friends, how do youfeel? For my poor part, I am as light-hearted as a boy!"

  He beamed on us with his beautiful smile; he held out a hand to my aunt,and a hand to me. I was too deeply affected by his noble conductto speak. I closed my eyes; I put his hand, in a kind of spiritualself-forgetfulness, to my lips. He murmured a soft remonstrance. Oh theecstasy, the pure, unearthly ecstasy of that moment! I sat--I hardlyknow on what--quite lost in my own exalted feelings. When I openedmy eyes again, it was like descending from heaven to earth. There wasnobody but my aunt in the room. He had gone.

  I should like to stop here--I should like to close my narrative withthe record of Mr. Godfrey's noble conduct. Unhappily there is more, muchmore, which the unrelenting pecuniary pressure of Mr. Blake's chequeobliges me to tell. The painful disclosures which were to revealthemselves in my presence, during that Tuesday's visit to MontaguSquare, were not at an end yet.

  Finding myself alone with Lady Verinder, I turned naturally to thesubject of her health; touching delicately on the strange anxiety whichshe had shown to conceal her indisposition, and the remedy applied toit, from the observation of her daughter.

  My aunt's reply greatly surprised me.

  "Drusilla," she said (if I have not already mentioned that my Christianname is Drusilla, permit me to mention it now), "you are touching quiteinnocently, I know--on a very distressing subject."

  I rose immediately. Delicacy left me but one alternative--thealternative, after first making my apologies, of taking my leave. LadyVerinder stopped me, and insisted on my sitting down again.

  "You have surprised a secret," she said, "which I had confided to mysister Mrs. Ablewhite, and to my lawyer Mr. Bruff, and to no one else.I can trust in their discretion; and I am sure, when I tell you thecircumstances, I can trust in yours. Have you any pressing engagement,Drusilla? or is your time your own this afternoon?"

  It is needless to say that my time was entirely at my aunt's disposal.

  "Keep me company then," she said, "for another hour. I have something totell you which I believe you will be sorry to hear. And I shall have aservice to ask of you afterwards, if you don't object to assist me."

  It is again needless to say that, so far from objecting, I was alleagerness to assist her.

  "You can wait here," she went on, "till Mr. Bruff comes at five. And youcan be one of the witnesses, Drusilla, when I sign my Will."

  Her Will! I thought of the drops which I had seen in her work-box. Ithought of the bluish tinge which I had noticed in her complexion. Alight which was not of this world--a light shining prophetically froman unmade grave--dawned on my mind. My aunt's secret was a secret nolonger.