CHAPTER VI
I walked to the railway station accompanied, it is needless to say, by
Gabriel Betteredge. I had the letter in my pocket, and the nightgown
safely packed in a little bag--both to be submitted, before I slept that
night, to the investigation of Mr. Bruff.
We left the house in silence. For the first time in my experience of
him, I found old Betteredge in my company without a word to say to me.
Having something to say on my side, I opened the conversation as soon as
we were clear of the lodge gates.
"Before I go to London," I began, "I have two questions to ask you. They
relate to myself, and I believe they will rather surprise you."
"If they will put that poor creature's letter out of my head, Mr.
Franklin, they may do anything else they like with me. Please to begin
surprising me, sir, as soon as you can."
"My first question, Betteredge, is this. Was I drunk on the night of
Rachel's Birthday?"
"YOU drunk!" exclaimed the old man. "Why it's the great defect of your
character, Mr. Franklin that you only drink with your dinner, and never
touch a drop of liquor afterwards!"
"But the birthday was a special occasion.
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