"For the Lord's sake, sir," he
whispered to me, "tell us when it will begin to work."
"Not before midnight," I whispered back. "Say nothing, and sit still."
Betteredge dropped to the lowest depth of familiarity with me, without a
struggle to save himself. He answered by a wink!
Looking next towards Mr. Blake, I found him as restless as ever in his
bed; fretfully wondering why the influence of the laudanum had not begun
to assert itself yet. To tell him, in his present humour, that the more
he fidgeted and wondered, the longer he would delay the result for which
we were now waiting, would have been simply useless. The wiser course to
take was to dismiss the idea of the opium from his mind, by leading him
insensibly to think of something else.
With this view, I encouraged him to talk to me; contriving so to direct
the conversation, on my side, as to lead it back again to the subject
which had engaged us earlier in the evening--the subject of the Diamond.
I took care to revert to those portions of the story of the Moonstone,
which related to the transport of it from London to Yorkshire; to
the risk which Mr. Blake had run in removing it from the bank at
Frizinghall: and to the unexpected appearance of the Indians at the
house, on the evening of the birthday.
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