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Updated: June 24, 2025
It had been arranged over-night with Betteredge, that I was to call for him, on our way to Cobb's Hole, as early as I liked which, interpreted by my impatience to get possession of the letter, meant as early as I could. Without waiting for breakfast at the Farm, I took a crust of bread in my hand, and set forth, in some doubt whether I should not surprise the excellent Betteredge in his bed.
Oh! if we only end in understanding each other, how I shall enjoy tearing it up! "I beg to remain, sir, your true lover and humble servant, The reading of the letter was completed by Betteredge in silence. After carefully putting it back in the envelope, he sat thinking, with his head bowed down, and his eyes on the ground.
Before we were clear of the passages downstairs, I was stopped by Betteredge, just as I was passing the door which led into his own room. "Could I say two words to you in private?" he asked, in a mysterious whisper. I consented of course. Mr. Blake walked on to wait for me in the garden, while I accompanied Betteredge into his room.
"Your sherry is waiting for you, sir," I said to him. I might as well have addressed myself to one of the four walls of the room; he was down in the bottomless deep of his own meditations, past all pulling up. "How do YOU explain Rachel's conduct, Betteredge?" was the only answer I received.
My own eyes were full of tears. I was obliged to wait a moment before I could trust myself to speak to him. "Betteredge!" I said, pointing to the well-remembered book on his knee, "has ROBINSON CRUSOE informed you, this evening, that you might expect to see Franklin Blake?" "By the lord Harry, Mr. Franklin!" cried the old man, "that's exactly what ROBINSON CRUSOE has done!"
He answered emphatically, that it had not produced the slightest effect on his mind. I was free after that to dismiss Mr. Bruff from consideration and I did dismiss him accordingly. A pause in the talk between us, followed and Gabriel Betteredge came out from his retirement at the window. "Can you favour me with your attention, sir?" he inquired, addressing himself to me.
"Hadn't you better say she's mad enough to be an ugly girl and only a servant?" he asked. "The falling in love with a gentleman of Mr. Franklin Blake's manners and appearance doesn't seem to me to be the maddest part of her conduct by any means. However, I'm glad the thing is cleared up: it relieves one's mind to have things cleared up. Yes, I'll keep it a secret, Mr. Betteredge.
It was an awkward position; and I dare say I got out of it awkwardly enough. I said to her, 'I don't quite understand you. Is there anything you want me to do? Mind, Betteredge, I didn't speak unkindly! The poor girl can't help being ugly I felt that, at the time. The cue was still in my hand, and I went on knocking the balls about, to take off the awkwardness of the thing.
Merridew, and regrets that he cannot feel justified in interfering any farther in the matter. Mr. Blake's report of himself, this morning, was the same as before. We determined not to disturb Betteredge by overlooking him at the house to-day. To-morrow will be time enough for our first visit of inspection. June 20th. Mr. Blake is beginning to feel his continued restlessness at night.
Betteredge, I have the greatest faith in him!" Many men, many opinions, as one of the ancients said, before my time. Mr. Superintendent's next proceeding took him back to the "boudoir" again, with my daughter and me at his heels.
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