to do, looked towards my lady, still standing
immovable on the top step. My lady, with anger and sorrow and shame all
struggling together in her face, made him a sign to start the horses,
and then turned back hastily into the house. Mr. Franklin, recovering
the use of his speech, called after her, as the carriage drove off,
"Aunt! you were quite right. Accept my thanks for all your kindness--and
let me go."

My lady turned as though to speak to him. Then, as if distrusting
herself, waved her hand kindly. "Let me see you, before you leave us,
Franklin," she said, in a broken voice--and went on to her own room.

"Do me a last favour, Betteredge," says Mr. Franklin, turning to me,
with the tears in his eyes. "Get me away to the train as soon as you
can!"

He too went his way into the house. For the moment, Miss Rachel had
completely unmanned him. Judge from that, how fond he must have been of
her!

Sergeant Cuff and I were left face to face, at the bottom of the
steps. The Sergeant stood with his face set towards a gap in the trees,
commanding a view of one of the windings of the drive which led from the
house. He had his hands in his pockets, and he was softly whistling "The
Last Rose of Summer" to himself.

"There's a time for everything," I said savagely enough. "This isn't a
time for whistling."

At that moment, the carriage appeared in the distance, through the gap,
on its way to the lodge-gate. There was another man, besides Samuel,
plainly visible in the rumble behind.

"All right!" said the Sergeant to himself. He turned round to me. "It's
no time for whistling, Mr. Betteredge, as you say. It's time to take
this business in hand, now, without sparing anybody. We'll begin with
Rosanna Spearman. Where is Joyce?"

We both called for Joyce, and received no answer. I sent one of the
stable-boys to look for him.

"You heard what I said to Miss Verinder?" remarked the Sergeant, while
we were waiting. "And you saw how she received it? I tell her plainly
that her leaving us will be an obstacle in the way of my recovering her
Diamond--and she leaves, in the face of that statement! Your young
lady has got a travelling companion in her mother's carriage, Mr.
Betteredge--and the name of it is, the Moonstone."

I said nothing. I only held on like death to my belief in Miss Rachel.

The stable-boy came back, followed--very unwillingly, as it appeared to
me--by Joyce.

"Where is Rosanna Spearman?" asked Sergeant C