The arrangement I have proposed reconciles
Ihe interests on both sides, if she will only
consent to it. After first stating the objections
that (here are to a meeting between Mr. Blake
and herself, before the experiment is tried, I
have suggested that she should so time her
journey as to arrive at the house privately, on
the evening when we make the attempt.
Travelling by the afternoon train from London,
she would delay her arrival until nine o'clock.
At that hour, l have undertaken to see Mr.
Blake safely into his bedchamber; and so to
leave Miss Verinder free to occupv her own
rooms until the time comes for administering
the laudanum. When that has been done,
there can be no objection to her watching the
result, with the rest of us. On the next morning,
she shall show Mr. Blake (if she likes) her
correspondence with me, and shall satisfy him
in that way that he was acquitted in her
estimation, before the question of his innocence
was put to the proof.

In that sense, I have written to her. This is
all that I can do to-day. To-morrow I must see
Mr. Betteredge, and give the necessary
directions for re-opening the house.

June 18th.—Late again, in calling on Mr.
Franklin Blake. More of that horrible pain in
the early morning; followed, this time, by
complete prostration, for some hours. I foresee,
in spite of the penalties which it exacts
from me, that I shall have to return to the
opium for the hundredth time. If I had only
myself to think of, I should prefer the sharp
pains to the frightful dreams. But the
physical suffering exhausts me. If I let myself
sink, it may end in my becoming useless to
Mr. Blake at the time when he wants me
most.

It was nearly one o'clock, before I could get
to the hotel to-day. The visit, even in my
shattered condition, proved to be a most amusing
one—thanks entirely to the presence on the
scene of Gabriel Betteredge.

I found him in the room, when I went in.
He withdrew to the window and looked out,
while I put my first customary question to my
patient. Mr. Blake had slept badly again, and
he felt the loss of rest this morning more than
he had felt it yet.

I asked next if he had heard from Mr.
Bruff.

A letter had reached him that morning. Mr.
Bruff expressed the strongest disapproval of the
course which his friend and client was taking
under my advice. It was mischievous—for it
excited hopes that might never be realised. It
was quite unintelligible to his mind, except
that it looked like a piece of trickery, akin to
the trickery of mesmerism, clairvoyance, and
the like. It unsettled Miss Verinder' s house,
and it would end in unsettling Miss Verinder
herself. He had put the case (without
mentioning names) to an eminent physician; and
the eminent physician had smiled, had shaken
his head, and had said—nothing. On these
grounds, Mr. Bruff entered his protest, and left
it there.

My next inquiry related to the subject of
the Diamond. Had the lawyer produced any
evidence to prove that the jewel was in
London?

No, the lawyer had simply declined to discuss
the question. He was himself satisfied that the
Moonstone had been pledged to Mr. Luker.
His eminent absent friend, Mr. Murthwaite
(whose consummate knowledge of the Indian
character no one could deny), was satisfied also.
Under these circumstances, and with the many
demands already made on him, he must decline
entering into any disputes on the subject of
evidence. Time would show; and Mr. Bruff
was willing to wait for time.

It, was quite plain—even if Mr. Blake had
not made it plainer still by reporting the
substance of the letter, instead of reading what
was actually written—that distrust of me was
at the bottom of all this. Having myself foreseen
that result, I was neither mortified nor
surprised. I asked Mr. Blake if his friend's
protest had shaken him. He answered
emphatically, that it had not produced the
slightest effect on his mind. I was free after
that to dismiss Mr. Bruff from consideration
—and I did dismiss him, accordingly.

A pause in the talk between us, followed—
and Gabriel Betteredge came out from his
retirement at the window.

"Can you favour me with your attention,
sir?" he inquired, addressing himself to me.

"I am quite at your service," I answered.

Bctteredge took a chair and seated himself at
the table. He produced a huge old-fashioned
leather pocket-book, with a pencil of dimensions
to match. Having put on his spectacles,
he opened the pocket-book, at a blank page,
and addressed himself to me once more.

"I have lived," said Betteredge, looking at
me sternly, " nigh on fifty years in the service
of my late lady. I was page-boy before that, in
the service of the old lord, her father. I am now
somewhere between seventy and eighty years of
age—never mind exactly where! I am reckoned
to have got as pretty a knowledge and
experience of the world as most men. And what
does it all end in? It ends, Mr. Ezra Jennings,
in a conjuring trick being performed on Mr.
Franklin Blake, by a doctor's assistant with a
bottle of laudanum—and by the living jingo,
I'm appointed, in my old age, to be conjuror's
boy!"

'Mr. Blake burst out laughing. I attempted
to speak. Betteredge held up his hand, in token
that he had not done yet.

"Not a word, Mr. Jennings!" he said. "It
don't want a word, sir, from you. I have got
my principles, thank God. If an order comes
to me, which is own brother to an order come
from Bedlam, it don't matter. So long as I get
it from my master or mistress, as the case may
be, I obey it. I may have my own opinion,
which is also, you will please to remember the
opinion of Mr. Bruff—the Great Mr. Bruff!"