I spoke, a little way back, of my lady’s father, the old lord with the short temper and the long tongue.  He had five children in all.  Two sons to begin with; then, after a long time, his wife broke out breeding again, and the three young ladies came briskly one after the other, as fast as the nature of things would permit; my mistress, as before mentioned, being the youngest and best of the three.  Of the two sons, the eldest, Arthur, inherited the title and estates.  The second, the Honourable John, got a fine fortune left him by a relative, and went into the army.

It’s an ill bird, they say, that fouls its own nest.  I look on the noble family of the Herncastles as being my nest; and I shall take it as a favour if I am not expected to enter into particulars on the subject of the Honourable John.  He was, I honestly believe, one of the greatest blackguards that ever lived.  I can hardly say more or less for him than that.  He went into the army, beginning in the Guards.  He had to leave the Guards before he was two-and-twenty—­never mind why.  They are very strict in the army, and they were too strict for the Honourable John.  He went out to India to see whether they were equally strict there, and to try a little active service.  In the matter of bravery (to give him his due), he was a mixture of bull-dog and game-cock, with a dash of the savage.  He was at the taking of Seringapatam.  Soon afterwards he changed into another regiment, and, in course of time, changed into a third.  In the third he got his last step as lieutenant-colonel, and, getting that, got also a sunstroke, and came home to England.

He came back with a character that closed the doors of all his family against him, my lady (then just married) taking the lead, and declaring (with Sir John’s approval, of course) that her brother should never enter any house of hers.  There was more than one slur on the Colonel that made people shy of him; but the blot of the Diamond is all I need mention here.

It was said he had got possession of his Indian jewel by means which, bold as he was, he didn’t dare acknowledge.  He never attempted to sell it—­not being in need of money, and not (to give him his due again) making money an object.  He never gave it away; he never even showed it to any living soul.  Some said he was afraid of its getting him into a difficulty with the military authorities; others (very ignorant indeed of the real nature of the man) said he was afraid, if he showed it, of its costing him his life.

There was perhaps a grain of truth mixed up with this last report.  It was false to say that he was afraid; but it was a fact that his life had been twice threatened in India; and it was firmly believed that the Moonstone was at the bottom of it.  When he came back to England, and found himself avoided by everybody, the Moonstone was thought to be at the bottom of it again.  The mystery of the Colonel’s life got in the Colonel’s way, and outlawed him, as you may say, among his own people.  The men wouldn’t let him into their clubs; the women—­more than one—­whom he wanted to marry, refused him; friends and relations got too near-sighted to see him in the street.