The persons complained of were three in number.After having been sent away by the police, they had returned again and again, and had attempted to enter the house on pretence of asking for charity.Warned off in the front, they had been discovered again at the back of the premises.Besides the annoyance complained of, Mr.Luker expressed himself as being under some apprehension that robbery might be contemplated.His collection contained many unique gems, both classical and Oriental, of the highest value.He had only the day before been compelled to dismiss a skilled workman in ivory carving from his employment (a native of India, as we understood), on suspicion of attempted theft; and he felt by no means sure that this man and the street jugglers of whom he complained, might not be acting in concert.It might be their object to collect a crowd, and create a disturbance in the street, and, in the confusion thus caused, to obtain access to the house.In reply to the magistrate, Mr.Luker admitted that he had no evidence to produce of any attempt at robbery being in contemplation.He could speak positively to the annoyance and interruption caused by the Indians, but not to anything else.The magistrate remarked that, if the annoyance were repeated, the applicant could summon the Indians to that court, where they might easily be dealt with under the Act.As to the valuables in Mr.Luker's possession, Mr.Luker himself must take the best measures for their safe custody.He would do well perhaps to communicate with the police, and to adopt such additional precautions as their experience might suggest.The applicant thanked his worship, and withdrew.'
One of the wise ancients is reported (I forget on what occasion) as having recommended his fellow-creatures to `look to the end.' Looking to the end of these pages of mine, and wondering for some days past how Ishould manage to write it, I find my plain statement of facts coming to a conclusion, most appropriately, of its own self.We have gone on, in this matter of the Moonstone, from one marvel to another; and here we end with the greatest marvel of all--namely, the accomplishment of Sergeant Cuff's three predictions in less than a week from the time when he had made them.
After hearing from the Yollands on the Monday, I had now heard of the Indians, and heard of the money-lender, in the news from London--Miss Rachel herself, remember, being also in London at the time.You see, I put things at their worst, even when they tell dead against my own view.If you desert me, and side with the Sergeant, on the evidence before you--if the only rational explanation you can see is, that Miss Rachel and Mr.Luker must have got together, and that the Moonstone must be now in pledge in the money-lender's house--I own I can't blame you for arriving at the conclusion.
In the dark, I have brought you thus far.In the dark I am compelled to leave you, with my best respects.
Why compelled? it may be asked.Why not take the persons who have gone along with me, so far, up into those regions of superior enlightment in which I sit myself?
In answer to this, I can only state that I am acting under orders, and that those orders have been given to me (as I understand) in the interests of truth.I am forbidden to tell more in this narrative than I knew myself at the time.Or, to put it plainer, I am to keep strictly within the limits of my own experience, and am not to inform you of what other persons told me--for the very sufficient reason that you are to have the information from those other persons themselves, at first hand.In this matter of the Moonstone the plan is, not to present reports, but to produce witnesses.
I picture to myself a member of the family reading these pages fifty years hence.Lord! what a compliment he will feel it, to be asked to take nothing on hearsay, and to be treated in all respects like a Judge on the bench.
At this place, then, we part--for the present, at least--after long journeying together, with a companionable feeling, I hope, on both sides.
The devil's dance of the Indian Diamond has threaded its way to London;and to London you must go after it, leaving me at the country-house.Please to excuse the faults of this composition--my talking so much of myself, and being too familiar, I am afraid, with you.I mean no harm; and I drink most respectfully (having just done dinner) to your health and prosperity, in a tankard of her ladyship's ale.May you find in these leaves of my writing, what Robinson Crusoe found in his experience on the desert island--namely, `something to comfort yourselves from, and to set in the Description of Good and Evil, on the Credit Side of the Account.'--Farewell.
