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 walked out
together on the low ledge of rocks called the South Spit.
With Betteredge's help, I soon stood in the right position to see the
Beacon and the Coast-guard flagstaff in a line together. Following
the memorandum as our guide, we next laid my stick in the necessary
direction, as neatly as we could, on the uneven surface of the rocks.
And then we looked at our watches once more.
It wanted nearly twenty minutes yet of the turn of the tide. I suggested
waiting through this interval on the beach, instead of on the wet and
slippery surface of the rocks. Having reached the dry sand, I prepared
to sit down; and, greatly to my surprise, Betteredge prepared to leave
me.
"What are you going away for?" I asked.
"Look at the letter again, sir, and you will see."
A glance at the letter reminded me that I was charged, when I made my
discovery, to make it alone.
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