at the billiard balls," I heard her say.
"Anything rather than look at me!" Before I could
stop her, she had left the hall. I am not quite
easy about it, Betteredge. Would you mind
telling Rosanna that I meant no unkindness?
I have been a little hard on her, perhaps, in my
own thoughts— I have almost hoped that the
loss of the Diamond might be traced to her.
Not from any ill-will to the poor girl; but——"
He stopped there, and going back to the
billiard-table, began to knock the balls about
once more.

After what had passed between the Sergeant
and me, I knew what it was that he had left
unspoken as well as he knew it himself.

Nothing but the tracing of the Moonstone to
our second housemaid could now raise Miss
Rachel above the infamous suspicion that
rested on her in the mind of Sergeant Cuff. It
was no longer a question of quieting my young
lady's nervous excitement; it was a question
of proving her innocence. If Rosanna had
done nothing to compromise herself, the hope
which Mr. Franklin confessed to having felt
would have been hard enough on her in all
conscience. But this was not the case. She
had pretended to be ill, and had gone secretly
to Frizinghall. She had been up all night,
making something, or destroying something, in
private. And she had been at the Shivering
Sand, that evening, under circumstances which
were highly suspicious, to say the least of
them. For all these reasons (sorry as I was
for Rosanna) I could not but think that Mr.
Franklin's way of looking at the matter was
neither unnatural nor unreasonable, in Mr.
Franklin's position. I said a word to him to
that effect.

"Yes, yes!" he said in return. "But there
is just a chance— a very poor one, certainly—
than Rosanna's conduct may admit of some
explanation which we don't see at present. I
hate hurting a woman's feelings, Betteredge!
Tell the poor creature what I told you to tell
her. And if she wants to speak to me— I
don't care whether I get into a scrape or not—
send her to me in the library." With those
kind words he laid down the cue and left me.

Inquiry at the servants' offices informed me
that Rosanna had retired to her own room. She
had declined all offers of assistance with thanks,
and had only asked to be left to rest in quiet.
Here, therefore, was an end of any confession
on her part (supposing she really had a
confession to make) for that night. I reported
the result to Mr. Franklin, who, thereupon, left
the library, and went up to bed.

I was putting the lights out, and making the
windows fast, when Samuel came in with news
of the two guests whom I had left in my room.
The argument about the white moss-rose had
apparently come to an end at last. The
gardener had gone home, and Sergeant Cuff was
nowhere to be found in the lower regions of the
house.

I looked into my room. Quite true— nothing
was to be discovered there but a couple of
empty tumblers and a strong smell of hot grog.
Had the Sergeant gone of his own accord to the
bed-chamber that was prepared for him? I went
up-stairs to see.

After reaching the second landing, I thought
I heard a sound of quiet and regular breathing
on my left-hand side. My left-hand side led to
the corridor which communicated with Miss
Rachel's room. I looked in, and there, coiled
up on three chairs placed right across the
passage— there, with a red handkerchief tied
round his grizzled head, and his respectable
black coat rolled up for a pillow, lay and slept
Sergeant Cuff!

He woke, instantly and quietly, like a dog,
the moment I approached him.

"Good night, Mr. Betteredge," he said.
"And mind, if you ever take to growing roses,
the white moss-rose is all the better for not
being budded on the dog-rose, whatever the
gardener may say to the contrary!"

"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Why are you not in your proper bed?"

"I am not in my proper bed," answered the
Sergeant, "because I am one of the many
people in this miserable world who can't earn
their money honestly and easily at the same
time. There was a coincidence, this evening,
between the period of Rosanna Spearman's
return from the Sands and the period when
Miss Verinder took her resolution to leave the
house. Whatever Rosanna may have hidden,
it's clear to my mind that your young lady
couldn't go away until she knew that it was
hidden. The two must have communicated
privately once already to-night. If they try
to communicate again, when the house is
quiet, I want to be in the way, and stop it.
Don't blame me for upsetting your sleeping
arrangements, Mr. Betteredge— blame the
Diamond."

"I wish to God the Diamond had never
found its way into this house!" I broke out.

Sergeant Cuff looked with a rueful face at
the three chairs on which he had condemned
himself to pass the night.

"So do I," he said, gravely.

CHAPTER XVII.

NOTHING happened in the night; and (I am
happy to add) no attempt at communication
between Miss Rachel and Rosanna rewarded
the vigilance of Sergeant Cuff.

I had expected the Sergeant to set off for
Frizinghall the first thing in the morning. He
waited about, however, as if he had something
else to do first. I left him to his own devices;
and going into the grounds shortly after,
met Mr. Franklin on his favourite walk by the
shrubbery side.

Before we had exchanged two words, the
Sergeant unexpectedly joined us. He made up
to Mr. Franklin, who received him, I must own,
haughtily enough. "Have you any thing to say
to me?" was all the return he got for politely
wishing Mr. Franklin good morning.

"I have something to say to you, sir,"