We, in the servants’ hall, began this happy anniversary, as usual, by offering our little presents to Miss Rachel, with the regular speech delivered annually1 by me as the chief. I follow the plan adopted by the Queen in opening Parliament—namely, the plan of saying much the same thing regularly every year. Before it is delivered, my speech (like the Queen’s) is looked for as eagerly as if nothing of the kind had ever been heard before. When it is delivered, and turns out not to be the novelty anticipated, though they grumble2 a little, they look forward hopefully to something newer next year. An easy people to govern, in the Parliament and in the Kitchen—that’s the moral of it.
After breakfast, Mr. Franklin and I had a private conference on the subject of the Moonstone—the time having now come for removing it from the bank at Frizinghall, and placing it in Miss Rachel’s own hands.
Whether he had been trying to make love to his cousin again, and had got a rebuff—or whether his broken rest, night after night, was aggravating3 the queer contradictions and uncertainties4 in his character—I don’t know. But certain it is, that Mr. Franklin failed to show himself at his best on the morning of the birthday. He was in twenty different minds about the Diamond in as many minutes. For my part, I stuck fast by the plain facts as we knew them. Nothing had happened to justify5 us in alarming my lady on the subject of the jewel; and nothing could alter the legal obligation that now lay on Mr. Franklin to put it in his cousin’s possession. That was my view of the matter; and, twist and turn it as he might, he was forced in the end to make it his view too. We arranged that he was to ride over, after lunch, to Frizinghall, and bring the Diamond back, with Mr. Godfrey and the two young ladies, in all probability, to keep him company on the way home again.
This settled, our young gentleman went back to Miss Rachel.
They consumed the whole morning, and part of the afternoon, in the everlasting6 business of decorating the door, Penelope standing7 by to mix the colours, as directed; and my lady, as luncheon8 time drew near, going in and out of the room, with her handkerchief to her nose (for they used a deal of Mr. Franklin’s vehicle that day), and trying vainly to get the two artists away from their work. It was three o’clock before they took off their aprons9, and released Penelope (much the worse for the vehicle), and cleaned themselves of their mess. But they had done what they wanted—they had finished the door on the birthday, and proud enough they were of it. The griffins, cupids, and so on, were, I must own, most beautiful to behold10; though so many in number, so entangled11 in flowers and devices, and so topsy-turvy in their actions and attitudes, that you felt them unpleasantly in your head for hours after you had done with the pleasure of looking at them. If I add that Penelope ended her part of the morning’s work by being sick in the back-kitchen, it is in no unfriendly spirit towards the vehicle. No! no! It left off stinking12 when it dried; and if Art requires these sort of sacrifices—though the girl is my own daughter—I say, let Art have them!
Mr. Franklin snatched a morsel13 from the luncheon-table, and rode off to Frizinghall—to escort his cousins, as he told my lady. To fetch the Moonstone, as was privately14 known to himself and to me.
This being one of the high festivals on which I took my place at the side-board, in command of the attendance at table, I had plenty to occupy my mind while Mr. Franklin was away. Having seen to the wine, and reviewed my men and women who were to wait at dinner, I retired15 to collect myself before the company came. A whiff of—you know what, and a turn at a certain book which I have had occasion to mention in these pages, composed me, body and mind. I was aroused from what I am inclined to think must have been, not a nap, but a reverie, by the clatter16 of horses’ hoofs17 outside; and, going to the door, received a cavalcade18 comprising Mr. Franklin and his three cousins, escorted by one of old Mr. Ablewhite’s grooms19.
Mr. Godfrey struck me, strangely enough, as being like Mr. Franklin in this respect—that he did not seem to be in his customary spirits. He kindly20 shook hands with me as usual, and was most politely glad to see his old friend Betteredge wearing so well. But there was a sort of cloud over him, which I couldn’t at all account for; and when I asked how he had found his father in health, he answered rather shortly, “Much as usual.” However, the two Miss Ablewhites were cheerful enough for twenty, which more than restored the balance. They were nearly as big as their brother; spanking21, yellow-haired, rosy22 lasses, overflowing23 with super-abundant flesh and blood; bursting from head to foot with health and spirits. The legs of the poor horses trembled with carrying them; and when they jumped from their saddles (without waiting to be helped), I declare they bounced on the ground as if they were made of india-rubber. Everything the Miss Ablewhites said began with a large O; everything they did was done with a bang; and they giggled24 and screamed, in season and out of season, on the smallest provocation25. Bouncers—that’s what I call them.
Under cover of the noise made by the young ladies, I had an opportunity of saying a private word to Mr. Franklin in the hall.
“Have you got the Diamond safe, sir?”
He nodded, and tapped the breast-pocket of his coat.
“Have you seen anything of the Indians?”
“Not a glimpse.” With that answer, he asked for my lady, and, hearing she was in the small drawing-room, went there straight. The bell rang, before he had been a minute in the room, and Penelope was sent to tell Miss Rachel that Mr. Franklin Blake wanted to speak to her.
Crossing the hall, about half an hour afterwards, I was brought to a sudden standstill by an outbreak of screams from the small drawing-room. I can’t say I was at all alarmed; for I recognised in the screams the favourite large O of the Miss Ablewhites. However, I went in (on pretence26 of asking for instructions about the dinner) to discover whether anything serious had really happened.
There stood Miss Rachel at the table, like a person fascinated, with the Colonel’s unlucky Diamond in her hand. There, on either side of her, knelt the two Bouncers, devouring27 the jewel with their eyes, and screaming with ecstasy28 every time it flashed on them in a new light. There, at the opposite side of the table, stood Mr. Godfrey, clapping his hands like a large child, and singing out softly, “Exquisite29! exquisite!” There sat Mr. Franklin in a chair by the bookcase, tugging30 at his beard, and looking anxiously towards the window. And there, at the window, stood the object he was contemplating—my lady, having the extract from the Colonel’s Will in her hand, and keeping her back turned on the whole of the company.
She faced me, when I asked for my instructions; and I saw the family frown gathering31 over her eyes, and the family temper twitching32 at the corners of her mouth.
“Come to my room in half an hour,” she answered. “I shall have something to say to you then.”
With those words, she went out. It was plain enough that she was posed by the same difficulty which had posed Mr. Franklin and me in our conference at the Shivering Sand. Was the legacy33 of the Moonstone a proof that she had treated her brother with cruel injustice34? or was it a proof that he was worse than the worst she had ever thought of him? Serious questions those for my lady to determine, while her daughter, innocent of all knowledge of the Colonel’s character, stood there with the Colonel’s birthday gift in her hand.
Before I could leave the room in my turn, Miss Rachel, always considerate to the old servant who had been in the house when she was born, stopped me. “Look, Gabriel!” she said, and flashed the jewel before my eyes in a ray of sunlight that poured through the window.
Lord bless us! it was a Diamond! As large, or nearly, as a plover’s egg! The light that streamed from it was like the light of the harvest moon. When you looked down into the stone, you looked into a yellow deep that drew your eyes into it so that they saw nothing else. It seemed unfathomable; this jewel, that you could hold between your finger and thumb, seemed unfathomable as the heavens themselves. We set it in the sun, and then shut the light out of the room, and it shone awfully35 out of the depths of its own brightness, with a moony gleam, in the dark. No wonder Miss Rachel was fascinated: no wonder her cousins screamed. The Diamond laid such a hold on me that I burst out with as large an “O” as the Bouncers themselves. The only one of us who kept his senses was Mr. Godfrey. He put an arm round each of his sister’s waists, and, looking compassionately36 backwards37 and forwards between the Diamond and me, said, “Carbon Betteredge! mere38 carbon, my good friend, after all!”
His object, I suppose, was to instruct me. All he did, however, was to remind me of the dinner. I hobbled off to my army of waiters downstairs. As I went out, Mr. Godfrey said, “Dear old Betteredge, I have the truest regard for him!” He was embracing his sisters, and ogling39 Miss Rachel, while he honoured me with that testimony40 of affection. Something like a stock of love to draw on there! Mr. Franklin was a perfect savage41 by comparison with him.
At the end of half an hour, I presented myself, as directed, in my lady’s room.
What passed between my mistress and me, on this occasion, was, in the main, a repetition of what had passed between Mr. Franklin and me at the Shivering Sand—with this difference, that I took care to keep my own counsel about the jugglers, seeing that nothing had happened to justify me in alarming my lady on this head. When I received my dismissal, I could see that she took the blackest view possible of the Colonel’s motives42, and that she was bent43 on getting the Moonstone out of her daughter’s possession at the first opportunity.
On my way back to my own part of the house, I was encountered by Mr. Franklin. He wanted to know if I had seen anything of his cousin Rachel. I had seen nothing of her. Could I tell him where his cousin Godfrey was? I didn’t know; but I began to suspect that cousin Godfrey might not be far away from cousin Rachel. Mr. Franklin’s suspicions apparently44 took the same turn. He tugged45 hard at his beard, and went and shut himself up in the library with a bang of the door that had a world of meaning in it.
I was interrupted no more in the business of preparing for the birthday dinner till it was time for me to smarten myself up for receiving the company. Just as I had got my white waistcoat on, Penelope presented herself at my toilet, on pretence of brushing what little hair I have got left, and improving the tie of my white cravat46. My girl was in high spirits, and I saw she had something to say to me. She gave me a kiss on the top of my bald head, and whispered, “News for you, father! Miss Rachel has refused him.”
“Who’s ‘him’?” I asked.
“The ladies’ committee-man, father,” says Penelope. “A nasty sly fellow! I hate him for trying to supplant47 Mr. Franklin!”
If I had had breath enough, I should certainly have protested against this indecent way of speaking of an eminent48 philanthropic character. But my daughter happened to be improving the tie of my cravat at that moment, and the whole strength of her feelings found its way into her fingers. I never was more nearly strangled in my life.
“I saw him take her away alone into the rose-garden,” says Penelope. “And I waited behind the holly49 to see how they came back. They had gone out arm-in-arm, both laughing. They came back, walking separate, as grave as grave could be, and looking straight away from each other in a manner which there was no mistaking. I never was more delighted, father, in my life! There’s one woman in the world who can resist Mr. Godfrey Ablewhite, at any rate; and, if I was a lady, I should be another!”
Here I should have protested again. But my daughter had got the hair-brush by this time, and the whole strength of her feelings had passed into that. If you are bald, you will understand how she sacrificed me. If you are not, skip this bit, and thank God you have got something in the way of a defence between your hair-brush and your head.
“Just on the other side of the holly,” Penelope went on, “Mr. Godfrey came to a standstill. ‘You prefer,’ says he, ‘that I should stop here as if nothing had happened?’ Miss Rachel turned on him like lightning. ‘You have accepted my mother’s invitation,’ she said; ‘and you are here to meet her guests. Unless you wish to make a scandal in the house, you will remain, of course!’ She went on a few steps, and then seemed to relent a little. ‘Let us forget what has passed, Godfrey,’ she said, ‘and let us remain cousins still.’ She gave him her hand. He kissed it, which I should have considered taking a liberty, and then she left him. He waited a little by himself, with his head down, and his heel grinding a hole slowly in the gravel50 walk; you never saw a man look more put out in your life. ‘Awkward!’ he said between his teeth, when he looked up, and went on to the house—‘very awkward!’ If that was his opinion of himself, he was quite right. Awkward enough, I’m sure. And the end of it is, father, what I told you all along,” cries Penelope, finishing me off with a last scarification, the hottest of all. “Mr. Franklin’s the man!”
I got possession of the hair-brush, and opened my lips to administer the reproof51 which, you will own, my daughter’s language and conduct richly deserved.
Before I could say a word, the crash of carriage-wheels outside struck in, and stopped me. The first of the dinner-company had come. Penelope instantly ran off. I put on my coat, and looked in the glass. My head was as red as a lobster52; but, in other respects, I was as nicely dressed for the ceremonies of the evening as a man need be. I got into the hall just in time to announce the two first of the guests. You needn’t feel particularly interested about them. Only the philanthropist’s father and mother—Mr. and Mrs. Ablewhite.
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1
annually
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| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
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2
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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3
aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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4
uncertainties
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| 无把握( uncertainty的名词复数 )； 不确定； 变化不定； 无把握、不确定的事物 | |
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justify
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| vt.证明…正当(或有理)，为…辩护 | |
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6
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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7
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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8
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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9
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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10
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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11
entangled
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| adj.卷入的；陷入的；被缠住的；缠在一起的v.使某人（某物/自己）缠绕，纠缠于（某物中），使某人（自己）陷入（困难或复杂的环境中）( entangle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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13
morsel
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| n.一口，一点点 | |
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14
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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15
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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16
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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17
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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18
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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19
grooms
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| n.新郎( groom的名词复数 )；马夫v.照料或梳洗（马等）( groom的第三人称单数 )；使做好准备；训练；（给动物）擦洗 | |
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20
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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21
spanking
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| adj.强烈的，疾行的；n.打屁股 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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23
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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24
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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provocation
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| n.激怒，刺激，挑拨，挑衅的事物，激怒的原因 | |
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26
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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27
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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28
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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29
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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30
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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31
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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32
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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33
legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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35
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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36
compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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37
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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38
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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39
ogling
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| v.（向…）抛媚眼，送秋波( ogle的现在分词 ) | |
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40
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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41
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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42
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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43
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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44
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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45
tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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47
supplant
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| vt.排挤；取代 | |
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48
eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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49
holly
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| n.[植]冬青属灌木 | |
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50
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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51
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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52
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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