beacon), for the Chain. To run my hand along
the Chain, when found, until I come to the part of it which stretches
over the edge of the rocks, down into the quicksand. AND THEN TO PULL
THE CHAIN."

Just as I had read the last words--underlined in the original--I heard
the voice of Betteredge behind me. The inventor of the detective-fever
had completely succumbed to that irresistible malady. "I can't stand it
any longer, Mr. Franklin. What does her letter say? For mercy's sake,
sir, tell us, what does her letter say?"

I handed him the letter, and the memorandum. He read the first
without appearing to be much interested in it. But the second--the
memorandum--produced a strong impression on him.

"The Sergeant said it!" cried Betteredge. "From first to last, sir, the
Sergeant said she had got a memorandum of the hiding-place. And here
it is! Lord save us, Mr. Franklin, here is the secret that puzzled
everybody, from the great Cuff downwards, ready and waiting, as one may
say, to show itself to YOU! It's the ebb now, sir, as anybody may see
for themselves. How long will it be till the turn of the tide?" He
looked up, and observed a lad at work, at some little distance from us,
mending a net. "Tammie Bright!" he shouted at the top of his voice.

"I hear you!" Tammie shouted back.

"When's the turn of the tide?"

"In an hour's time."

We both looked at our watches.

"We can go round by the coast, Mr. Franklin," said Betteredge; "and get
to the quicksand in that way with plenty of time to spare. What do you
say, sir?"

"Come along!"

On our way to the Shivering Sand, I applied to Betteredge to revive
my memory of events (as affecting Rosanna Spearman) at the period of
Sergeant Cuff's inquiry. With my old friend's help, I soon had the
succession of circumstances clearly registered in my mind. Rosanna's
journey to Frizinghall, when the whole household believed her to be ill
in her own room--Rosanna's mysterious employment of the night-time with
her door locked, and her candle burning till the morning--Rosanna's
suspicious purchase of the japanned tin case, and the two dog's chains
from Mrs. Yolland--the Sergeant's positive conviction that Rosanna had
hidden something at the Shivering Sand, and the Sergeant's absolute
ignorance as to what that something might be--all these strange results
of the abortive inquiry into the loss of the Moonstone were clearly
present to me again, when we reached the quicksand, and walke