the friendliest manner, to take something,
before he went to bed.

I only note these trifling circumstances,
because, after all I had seen and heard, that day, it
pleased me to observe that our two gentlemen
were on just as good terms as ever. Their
warfare of words (heard by Penelope in the drawing-
room), and their rivalry for the best place
in Miss Rachel's good graces, seemed to have
set no serious difference between them. But
there! they were both good-tempered, and both
men of the world. And there is certainly this
merit in people of station, that they are not
nearly so quarrelsome among each other as
people of no station at all.

Mr. Franklin declined the brandy and water,
and went upstairs with Mr. Godfrey, their
rooms being next door to each other. On the
landing, however, either his cousin persuaded
him, or he veered about and changed his mind
as usual. "Perhaps I may want it in the
night," he called down to me. "Send up
some brandy into my room."

I sent up Samuel with the brandy and water;
and then went out, and unbuckled the dogs'
collars. They both lost their heads with astonishment
on being set loose at that time of night,
and jumped upon me like a couple of puppies!
However, the rain soon cooled them down
again: they lapped a drop of water each, and
crept back into their kennels. As I went into
the house, I noticed signs in the sky which
betokened a break in the weather for the better.
For the present, it still poured heavily, and the
ground was in a perfect sop.

Samuel and I went all over the house, and
shut up as usual. I examined everything myself,
and trusted nothing to my deputy on this
occasion. All was safe and fast, when I rested my
old bones in bed, between midnight and one in
the morning.

The worries of the day had been a little too
much for me, I suppose. At any rate, I had a
touch of Mr. Franklin's malady that night. It
was sunrise, before I fell off at last into a sleep.
All the time I lay awake, the house was as quiet
as the grave. Not a sound stirred but the
splash of the rain, and the sighing of the wind
among the trees as a breeze sprang up with the
morning.

About half-past seven I woke, and opened
my window on a fine sunshiny day. The clock
had struck eight, and I was just going out to
chain up the dogs again, when I heard a
sudden whisking of petticoats on the stairs
behind me.

I turned about, and there was Penelope
flying down after me like mad. "Father!" she
screamed, "come upstairs, for God's sake!
The Diamond is gone!"

"Are you out of your mind?" I asked her.

"Gone!" says Penelope. "Gone, nobody
knows how! Come up and see."

She dragged me after her into our young
lady's sitting-room, which opened into her
bed-room. There, on the threshold of her bed-room
door, stood Miss Rachel, almost as white in the
face as the white dressing-gown that clothed
her. There also stood the two doors of the
Indian cabinet, wide open. One of the drawers
inside was pulled out as far as it would go.

"Look!" says Penelope. "I myself saw
Miss Rachel put the Diamond into that drawer
last night."

I went to the cabinet. The drawer was
empty.

"Is this true, miss?" I asked.

With a look that was not like herself, with a
voice that was not like her own, Miss Rachel
answered, as my daughter had answered:

"The Diamond is gone."

Having said those words, she withdrew into
her bedroom, and shut and locked the door.

Before we knew which way to turn next, my
lady came in, hearing my voice in her daughter's
sitting-room, and wondering what had happened.
The news of the loss of the Diamond seemed to
petrify her. She went straight to Miss Rachel's
bedroom, and insisted on being admitted. Miss
Rachel let her in.

The alarm, running through the house like
fire, caught the two gentlemen next.

Mr. Godfrey was the first to come out of his
room. All he did when he heard what had
happened was to hold up his hands in a state
of bewilderment, which didn't say much for his
natural strength of mind. Mr. Franklin, whose
clear head I had confidently counted on to
advise us, seemed to be as helpless as his
cousin when he heard the news in his turn.
For a wonder, he had had a good night's rest
at last; and the unaccustomed luxury of sleep
had, as he said himself, apparently stupified him.
However, when he had swallowed his cup of
coffee—which he always took, on the foreign
plan, some hours before he ate any breakfast—
his brains brightened; the clear-headed side of
him turned up, and he took the matter in hand,
resolutely and cleverly, much as follows:

He first sent for the servants, and told them
to leave all the lower doors and windows (with
the exception of the front door, which I had
opened) exactly as they had been left when we
locked up overnight. He next proposed to his
cousin and to me to make quite sure, before we
took any further steps, that the Diamond had
not accidentally dropped somewhere out of
sight—say at the back of the cabinet, or down
behind the table on which the cabinet stood.
Having searched in both places, and found
nothing—having also questioned Penelope, and
discovered from her no more than the little she
had already told me—Mr. Franklin suggested
extending our inquiries to Miss Rachel next,
and sent Penelope to knock at her bedroom
door.

My lady answered the knock, and closed the
door behind her. The moment after, we heard
it locked inside by Miss Rachel. My mistress
came out among us, looking sorely puzzled
and distressed. "The loss of the Diamond
seems to have quite overwhelmed Rachel," she
said, in reply to Mr. Franklin. "She shrinks,