They had
ignorantly done something (I forget what) in the town, which barely
brought them within the operation of the law. Every human institution
(justice included) will stretch a little, if you only pull it the right
way. The worthy magistrate was an old friend of my lady's, and the
Indians were "committed" for a week, as soon as the court opened that
morning.
Such was Mr. Franklin's narrative of events at Frizinghall. The Indian
clue to the mystery of the lost jewel was now, to all appearance, a clue
that had broken in our hands. If the jugglers were innocent, who, in the
name of wonder, had taken the Moonstone out of Miss Rachel's drawer?
Ten minutes later, to our infinite relief; Superintendent Seegrave
arrived at the house. He reported passing Mr. Franklin on the terrace,
sitting in the sun (I suppose with the Italian side of him uppermost),
and warning the police, as they went by, that the investigation was
hopeless, before the investigation had begun.
For a family in our situation, the Superintendent of the Frizinghall
police was the most comforting officer you could wish to see. Mr.
Seegrave was tall and portly, and military in his manners.
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