Read Complete Works of Wilkie Collins Online
Authors: Wilkie Collins
Penelope
(
breathlessly
). Oh, father, such news! A fly has just driven up to the door — and who do you think has come in it? Mr. Franklin Blake!
Betteredge.
Mr. Franklin Blake? I remember Master Franklin, the nicest boy that ever spun a top or broke a window. Nonsense, Penelope! It’s too good to be true! (FRANKLIN’S
voice is heard outside.
)
Franklin.
Betteredge!
Betteredge.
That’s his voice, sure enough. This way, Mr. Franklin, this way! (FRANKLIN BLAKE
enters by the hall door.
)
Franklin.
Dear old Betteredge, give me your hand! You don’t look a day older since I borrowed seven and sixpence of you the last time I was home for the holidays —
Betteredge.
Which seven and sixpence you never
have
paid me back, Master Franklin, and never
will.
Welcome home, sir, from foreign parts!
Franklin
(
noticing
PENELOPE). Who’s this? Not Penelope?
Penelope
(
simpering
). I thought you didn’t remember me, sir.
Franklin.
Remember you! You promised to be a pretty girl when I remember you, and you have kept your promise. Virtue claims its own reward. (
He kisses her.
) Betteredge, I am devoured by anxiety. I left the Dover train at Tunbridge on the chance that my cousin Rachel might be here. Have I made a mistake? Is she in London?
Betteredge.
You have fallen on your legs, sir. Miss Rachel is coming here to-night.
Franklin.
One more question, and my mind will be at ease again. Rachel isn’t married yet, is she?
Penelope
(
answering before her father can speak
). Oh no, sir.
Franklin.
Do you think she is waiting for my return? I am much obliged to you, Penelope. You encourage me. (
He kisses her again.
BETTEREDGE
shakes his head.
) Don’t look sour, Betteredge. It’s only a way I have of expressing my gratitude.
Betteredge.
There’s a limit to everything, sir. My girl has got as much of your gratitude as is good for her. Penelope, go and get Mr. Franklin Blake’s room ready for him. (PENELOPE
curtsies to
FRANKLIN,
ascends the stairs to the gallery, and enters one of the bedrooms.
) Your old room, sir — up in the gallery. What have they done with your luggage?
Franklin.
One of the servants took my portmanteau. By-the-bye, has a foreign letter been received here, addressed to Rachel?
Betteredge.
Yes, sir: only two days since.
Franklin.
Did you forward it to London?
Betteredge.
Miss Rachel has been veering about in her own mind, sir, betwixt staying in London and staying in the country. I was told to forward no letters until further orders. (
He opens a table drawer, takes out some letters waiting for
RACHEL,
and chooses one.
) Is this the letter you mean, sir?
Franklin
(
looking at the post-mark
). That’s it! — an official letter from the consul at Rome, informing Rachel of a legacy coming to her from foreign parts. (
He returns the letter to
BETTEREDGE.) A legacy of ten thousand pounds, Betteredge — and I’ve got it here in my pocket. (
He touches his breast-pocket.
)
Betteredge.
Mercy preserve us! In bank-notes, sir?
Franklin
(
producing a jeweller’s box
). No; in this. The ten thousand pounds, Betteredge, is the estimated value of a prodigious diamond. (BETTEREDGE
holds up his hands in amazement.
) And the prodigious diamond is a legacy left to Rachel by her uncle the Colonel.
Betteredge
(
in alarm
). Not the Moonstone?
Franklin.
Yes, the Moonstone. (
He hands the box to
BETTEREDGE,
who receives it with marked aversion, and refuses to open it.
) Don’t be afraid. It isn’t an infernal machine — it won’t blow your brains out.
Betteredge
(
sternly
). This is no joking matter, Master Franklin. The wicked Colonel sent you on a wicked errand when he sent you here with his diamond. Is he really dead, sir?
Franklin.
Dead and buried — at Rome. I was with him in his last moments. In my judgment, the worst thing you could say about him was that he was mad. What did he do, Betteredge, to be called “the wicked Colonel”?
Betteredge.
Do? I shouldn’t get through the catalogue of the Colonel’s misdeeds if I was to talk till to-morrow. My late lady, Miss Rachel’s mother, was (as you know) the Colonel’s sister. She refused to see him or to speak to him. She held him, rightly, to be a disgrace to the family. He was as proud as Lucifer, and his sister wounded him in his one tender place. “You have publicly shut your door in my face,” he wrote to her. “Sooner or later I’ll be even with you for doing that.” Here (
he holds up the box
) is the proof that he was as good as his word. He knew by his own bitter experience that the Moonstone carried a curse with it; and he has left it to Miss Rachel in revenge.
Franklin.
I wish
I
had offended the Colonel.
Betteredge.
If you knew how he got this diamond, sir, you would wish nothing of the sort! It was in the Indian wars. The Moonstone was an ornament on one of their heathen images in those parts. The last place they defended against the English troops was their temple. The Colonel was the first of the storming party to get in. He killed the two priests who defended their idol, and he cut the diamond out of the wooden head of the image with his sword. “Loot” they call it in the army;
I
call it murder and robbery. And the curse of murder and robbery goes with the diamond. You are almost as fond of Miss Rachel, sir, as I am. While we have the chance, let’s go out into the yard and chuck the Moonstone into the well!
Franklin.
Stop a minute, Betteredge! Have you got ten thousand pounds anywhere about you?
Betteredge.
I, Master Franklin!
Franklin.
We can’t afford the luxury of drowning the Moonstone. Say no more about it. It’s Rachel’s property. Give it back to me. (
He takes the box from
BETTEREDGE,
puts it back in his pocket, and looks round him.
) Ah! here’s the great hall looking just as splendid as ever! Time that makes changes everywhere else makes no changes here. (
He notices an old cabinet placed near the foot of the gallery stairs.
) What have they been doing with this cabinet? It’s shamefully neglected. It ought to be varnished.
Betteredge.
It is to be varnished, sir. But Miss Rachel’s sudden arrival has stopped the painters’ work till further orders.
Franklin
(
noticing the painters’ utensils
). I see! Here are their pots and brushes. What’s this? (
He takes up a tin pot with a label on it.
)
Betteredge.
Don’t you touch those things, sir! I’ll take them out of the way.
Franklin
(
stopping him
). Wait a minute. (
He reads the label.
) “The original Dutch polish. Restores old furniture, and is warranted to dry in five hours.” This
is
the varnish! Betteredge, I have nothing to do till Rachel comes;
I’ll
varnish the cabinet. (
He pulls off his coat and chooses a brush.
)
Betteredge.
Mercy on us, Master Franklin! You don’t mean it, do you? Think of the wet varnish and the ladies’ dresses, sir, when the company come.
Franklin.
The varnish dries in five hours. (
He looks at the clock.
) It’s nine o’clock now. By two in the morning the cabinet will be as dry as a bone. (
He begins to varnish.
) You talked of company coming here. Who does Rachel bring with her?
Betteredge.
She brings Miss Clack, sir, for one.
Franklin
(
varnishing
). What! my old enemy? She will never forgive me. I once called her a Rampant Spinster. Does Miss Clack still go about the world reforming everybody? And when she is particularly spiteful does she open her bag and say: “Permit me to offer you a tract”?
Betteredge
(
dryly
). Come, come, Master Franklin! Do the lady justice. She has a pretty taste in wine. Likes her champagne dry — and plenty of it.
Franklin
(
varnishing
).Who else is expected?
Betteredge.
Your other cousin, sir, Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite.
Franklin
(
varnishing
). Worse and worse! A professional philanthropist and a ladies’ man, both in one! Officially attached to half the female Societies in London. Wherever there is a table with a council of ladies sitting round it, there is Mr. Treasurer Ablewhite keeping the accounts of the committee, and leading the dear creatures along the thorny ways of business hat in hand! (
He suddenly leaves off varnishing and looks round at
BETTEREDGE.) I say, Betteredge! has Godfrey Ablewhite any particular motive for coming here? You don’t think he is after Rachel, do you?
Betteredge.
He
has
been after her, sir, and he’s just the man to try it again at the first opportunity. Don’t be alarmed! Miss Rachel has said “No” to him once, and now you’re here she’ll say “No” again.
Franklin
(
returning to his varnishing
). Dear good girl, how I enjoy varnishing her cabinet! She wouldn’t give me a definite answer, Betteredge, when I asked her to marry me before I left England. Do you think she has any serious objection to me?
Betteredge.
You have been all your life in debts and difficulties, sir, and you take it as easy as if you had paid your way honestly from your birth upwards. Miss Rachel objects to that. In her way of thinking, a man who doesn’t pay his creditors commits a dishonourable action. Be a little more careful in money matters, and Miss Rachel’s objections to you will melt away like snow off a dyke. (
He starts.
) What’s that I hear? Carriage wheels outside? (
The door bell rings.
) There’s Miss Rachel! Leave it to me, Master Franklin, I’ll tell her you’re here! (
He goes out by the hall door.
)
Franklin
(
looking about him
). Where’s my coat? (
He hurriedly puts on his coat.
) Do I smell of varnish, I wonder? Is there time to get to my room and brush myself up? (RACHEL
enters by the hall door, followed by
MISS CLACK,
carrying her black bag of tracts, and by
GODFREY ABLEWHITE. MISS CLACK
looks about her at the different objects in the hall, with an over-acted appearance of humility and admiration.
)