Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2081 page)

Godfrey.
I don’t understand you.

Cuff.
Oh yes, you do! Didn’t I tell you of that commonplace case of mine, that I left in London? It was a Charitable Society, sir, that employed me to recover the stolen money, and you, being treasurer, were one of the officers privately reckoned up by the police. I made the necessary inquiries myself. I found out your private villa in the suburbs, and your contraband lady with the carriage and jewels —

Godfrey
(
taking out his white handkerchief
). Oh!!! (
He hides his face in his handkerchief.
RACHEL
and
MISS CLACK,
both listening, both express indignation and disgust.
)

Cuff
(
pointing to
GODFREY). Lord! what virtue there is in a white handkerchief! I was also informed, sir, through your servant, of your visit to Miss Rachel’s house. I was on my way here to arrest you on suspicion of embezzlement, when I got Mr. Blake’s telegram. The society’s audit-day was close at hand, you know; and the Moonstone offered you a chance of replacing the stolen money, if you were really the man who had taken it. I believed you
were
the man, when I found you so devilish anxious to assist me. It was cleverly intended, sir, but you overdid it. Thanks to your interference, I had the policeman ready to follow you. He traced you from Frizinghall to London; and he followed you to Mr. Luker, the money-lender. The telegraph did the rest. Is it all pretty clear now, sir? Don’t you think you had better get away while you have the chance? (GODFREY
stands irresolute.
CUFF
turns to
RACHEL,
standing behind him, and offers her the Moonstone.
) Your diamond, miss. (RACHEL
refuses to take it.
CUFF
offers the diamond to
BETTEREDGE
next.
BETTEREDGE
draws back from it in horror.
CUFF
places the Moonstone on the writing-table.
)

Godfrey
(
turning to
RACHEL,
with his white handkerchief to his eyes
). Rachel! (RACHEL
recoils from him in disgust. He appeals next to
MISS CLACK.) Miss Clack! (MISS CLACK
turns away like
RACHEL. GODFREY
walks slowly towards the hall door, then turns to say his last words.
)

Godfrey
(
in his oratorical manner
). The poet has said: “To err is human, to forgive divine.” My defence, ladies and gentlemen, is entirely comprised in that grand line. Properly understood, I am that essentially pardonable person, the victim of circumstances. Farewell!

(
He bows and goes out.
)

Betteredge
(
to
CUFF). Sergeant, you’re not going to let that damned rogue escape scot-free?

Cuff.
Don’t alarm yourself, Mr. Betteredge. The policeman is outside. (
He looks at
FRANKLIN
sleeping in the chair, with
RACHEL
and
MR. CANDY
on either side of him
). Still fast asleep, sir?

Mr. Candy.
Yes. (CUFF
walks away, and takes a last look at the roses near the garden window.
MR. CANDY
turns to
RACHEL.) I will keep watch, Miss Rachel, till he wakes.

Rachel.
Nobody shall watch him but me! Leave me, all of you, to be the first who sees him and speaks to him when he opens his eyes. My heart is set on it — pray indulge me! (MR. CANDY
and
BETTEREDGE
approach to take leave of
RACHEL.
She is absorbed in
FRANKLIN,
and answers by signs only.
CUFF
remains near the roses.
MISS CLACK
goes to the writing-table, lights a candle standing on it, and writes a telegram, very slowly, as if it costs her considerable thought.
)

Mr. Candy.
Miss Rachel, has the Irish porter justified my confidence in him? (RACHEL
gives
MR. CANDY
her hand — he kisses it.
) Accept my congratulations. Good-night! (
He goes out by the hall door.
)

Betteredge.
I have only one remark to make, miss, in wishing you good-night in my turn. As an old servant of the family, you might have let me into the secret a little sooner. My duty to Mr. Franklin when he wakes, and Heaven grant you a speedy marriage! (
He follows
MR. CANDY.)

Cuff
(
approaching
RACHEL). Might I ask a great favour before I go back to London? Might I take one cutting from the roses there? (RACHEL
smiles, and bows her head.
) Thank you, miss. (
He takes the cutting, and holds it up in triumph.
) My rose-garden shall begin with this! And — excuse me, Miss Rachel — there will be grass walks between my flower-beds. No gravel! no gravel! (
He follows
BETTEREDGE.)

Miss Clack
(
rising from the table
). All blessings attend you, dear Rachel! I have a telegram to send to London the first thing in the morning. May I give it to the servants over-night? (RACHEL
assents.
MISS CLACK
reads her telegram over to herself.
) Have I been sufficiently explicit? Let me see. (
She reads
). “Miss Clack, to the Mothers’-Small-Clothes-Conversion-Society. Beware of Mr. Godfrey. He is perfectly capable of stealing our trousers.” (
She goes out by the hall door.
)

Rachel
(
alone with
FRANKLIN). How peacefully he sleeps! How pale and worn he looks! My love! my love! if ever a woman made a man happy, your life shall be a happy one with me! (
She rises, and looks towards the hall door, which is left open
). Why have they left the door open? He may feel the draught. (
She goes to the hall door and closes it. Returning to him, she passes the writing-table, and notices the gleam of the diamond in the light of the candle which
MISS CLACK
has left burning.
) You hateful Moonstone, you shall never be an ornament of mine! I’ll sell you to-morrow; and the money shall be a fund for the afflicted and the poor. (
She returns to
FRANKLIN,
and leans over the back of the chair, looking down at him.
) This is
my
jewel! Shall I disturb him if I kiss him? I
must
kiss him! (
Still standing behind the chair, she stoops over and touches his forehead with her lips. He starts, and opens his eyes.
)

Rachel
(
starting back
). Oh, I’ve woke him!

Franklin
(
looking up, bewildered
). Who is it?

Rachel
(
bending over him again
). Only your wife! (
The curtain falls slowly.
)

CURTAIN

First published in 1848,
this
memoir of his father’s life and works
was Collins’ first published book. He interrupted his work on
Antonina
to write this tribute to his father’s life after William’s unexpected death on 17 February 1847. The text contains links to the frontispiece portrait by John Linnell and the two half title pages illustrated with engravings based on his father’s work.

Collins’ father, a successful artist

MEMOIRS

OF

THE LIFE OF

WILLIAM COLLINS, ESQ., R.A.

WITH SELECTIONS FROM

HIS JOURNALS AND CORRESPONDENCE.

BY HIS SON,

W. WILKIE COLLINS.

VOLUME I.

LONDON:
LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS.

MDCCCXLVIII.

TYLER & REED,
PRINTERS,
BOLT-COURT, FLEET-STREET.

TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

SIR ROBERT PEEL, BART.,

ETC., ETC., ETC.,

THIS BIOGRAPHY OF AN

ENGLISH PAINTER,

WHOSE GENIUS HE ENCOURAGED

AND WHOSE CHARACTER HE ESTEEMED,

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED.

PREFACE.

THE writer of such portions of the following pages as are not occupied by his father’s diaries and correspondence, has endeavoured to perform his task with delicacy and care, and hopes to have succeeded in presenting to the friends and lovers of Art, a faithful record of a life devoted, with an enthusiasm worthy of its object, to the attainment of excellence in a pursuit which is admitted, by common consent, to refine no less than to exalt the human heart.