Contributed by GABRIEL BETTEREDGE
I am the person (as you remember no doubt) who led the way in these
pages, and opened the story. I am also the person who is left behind, as
it were, to close the story up.
Let nobody suppose that I have any last words to say here concerning the
Indian Diamond. I hold that unlucky jewel in abhorrence--and I refer you
to other authority than mine, for such news of the Moonstone as you may,
at the present time, be expected to receive. My purpose, in this place,
is to state a fact in the history of the family, which has been passed
over by everybody, and which I won't allow to be disrespectfully
smothered up in that way. The fact to which I allude is--the marriage of
Miss Rachel and Mr. Franklin Blake. This interesting event took place at
our house in Yorkshire, on Tuesday, October ninth, eighteen hundred and
forty-nine. I had a new suit of clothes on the occasion. And the married
couple went to spend the honeymoon in Scotland.
Family festivals having been rare enough at our house, since my poor
mistress's death, I own--on this occasion of the wedding--to having
(towards the latter part of the day) taken a drop too much on the
strength of it.
If you have ever done the same sort of thing yourself you will
understand and feel for me. If you have not, you will very likely say,
"Disgusting old man! why does he tell us this?" The reason why is now to
come.
Having, then, taken my drop (bless you! you have got your favourite
vice, too; only your vice isn't mine, and mine isn't yours), I next
applied the one infallible remedy--that remedy being, as you know,
ROBINSON CRUSOE. Where I opened that unrivalled book, I can't say. Where
the lines of print at last left off running into each other, I know,
however, perfectly well. It was at page three hundred and eighteen--a
domestic bit concerning Robinson Crusoe's marriage, as follows:
"With those Thoughts, I considered my new Engagement, that I had a Wife
"--(Observe! so had Mr. Franklin!)--"one Child born"--(Observe again!
that might yet be Mr. Franklin's case, too!)--"and my Wife then"--What
Robinson Crusoe's wife did, or did not do, "then," I felt no desire to
discover. I scored the bit about the Child with my pencil, and put a
morsel of paper for a mark to keep the place; "Lie you there," I said,
"till the marriage of Mr. Franklin and Miss Rachel is some months
older--and then we'll see!"
The months passed (more than I had bargained for), and no occasion
presented itself for disturbing that mark in the book. It was not till
this present month of November, eighteen hundred and fifty, that Mr.
Franklin came into my room, in high good spirits, and said, "Betteredge!
I have got some news for you! Something is going to happen in the house,
before we are many months older."
"Does it concern the family, sir?" I asked.
"It decidedly concerns the family," says Mr. Franklin. "Has your good
lady anything to do with it, if you please, sir?"
"She has a great deal to do with it," says Mr. Franklin, beginning to
look a little surprised.
"You needn't say a word more, sir," I answered. "God bless you both! I'm
heartily glad to hear it."
Mr. Franklin stared like a person thunderstruck. "May I venture to
inquire where you got your information?" he asked. "I only got mine
(imparted in the strictest secrecy) five minutes since."
Here was an opportunity of producing ROBINSON CRUSOE! Here was a chance
of reading that domestic bit about the child which I had marked on the
day of Mr. Franklin's marriage! I read those miraculous words with an
emphasis which did them justice, and then I looked him severely in the
face. "NOW, sir, do you believe in ROBINSON CRUSOE?" I asked, with a
solemnity, suitable to the occasion.
"Betteredge!" says Mr. Franklin, with equal solemnity, "I'm convinced at
last." He shook hands with me--and I felt that I had converted him.
With the relation of this extraordinary circumstance, my reappearance
in these pages comes to an end. Let nobody laugh at the unique anecdote
here related. You are welcome to be as merry as you please over
everything else I have written. But when I write of ROBINSON CRUSOE, by
the Lord it's serious--and I request you to take it accordingly!
When this is said, all is said. Ladies and gentlemen, I make my bow, and
shut up the story.