This notion had barely struck me—­when who should appear at the end of the shrubbery walk but Rosanna Spearman in her own proper person!  She was followed by Penelope, who was evidently trying to make her retrace her steps to the house.  Seeing that Mr. Franklin was not alone, Rosanna came to a standstill, evidently in great perplexity what to do next.  Penelope waited behind her.  Mr. Franklin saw the girls as soon as I saw them.  The Sergeant, with his devilish cunning, took on not to have noticed them at all.  All this happened in an instant.  Before either Mr. Franklin or I could say a word, Sergeant Cuff struck in smoothly, with an appearance of continuing the previous conversation.

“You needn’t be afraid of harming the girl, sir,” he said to Mr. Franklin, speaking in a loud voice, so that Rosanna might hear him.  “On the contrary, I recommend you to honour me with your confidence, if you feel any interest in Rosanna Spearman.”

Mr. Franklin instantly took on not to have noticed the girls either.  He answered, speaking loudly on his side: 

“I take no interest whatever in Rosanna Spearman.”

I looked towards the end of the walk.  All I saw at the distance was that Rosanna suddenly turned round, the moment Mr. Franklin had spoken.  Instead of resisting Penelope, as she had done the moment before, she now let my daughter take her by the arm and lead her back to the house.

The breakfast-bell rang as the two girls disappeared—­and even Sergeant Cuff was now obliged to give it up as a bad job!  He said to me quietly, “I shall go to Frizinghall, Mr. Betteredge; and I shall be back before two.”  He went his way without a word more—­and for some few hours we were well rid of him.

“You must make it right with Rosanna,” Mr. Franklin said to me, when we were alone.  “I seem to be fated to say or do something awkward, before that unlucky girl.  You must have seen yourself that Sergeant Cuff laid a trap for both of us.  If he could confuse me, or irritate her into breaking out, either she or I might have said something which would answer his purpose.  On the spur of the moment, I saw no better way out of it than the way I took.  It stopped the girl from saying anything, and it showed the Sergeant that I saw through him.  He was evidently listening, Betteredge, when I was speaking to you last night.”

He had done worse than listen, as I privately thought to myself.  He had remembered my telling him that the girl was in love with Mr. Franklin; and he had calculated on that, when he appealed to Mr. Franklin’s interest in Rosanna—­in Rosanna’s hearing.

“As to listening, sir,” I remarked (keeping the other point to myself), “we shall all be rowing in the same boat if this sort of thing goes on much longer.  Prying, and peeping, and listening are the natural occupations of people situated as we are.  In another day or two, Mr. Franklin, we shall all be struck dumb together—­for this reason, that we shall all be listening to surprise each other’s secrets, and all know it.  Excuse my breaking out, sir.  The horrid mystery hanging over us in this house gets into my head like liquor, and makes me wild.  I won’t forget what you have told me.  I’ll take the first opportunity of making it right with Rosanna Spearman.”