“The first step to take in this investigation,” the lawyer proceeded, “is to appeal to Rachel.  She has been silent all this time, from motives which I (who know her character) can readily understand.  It is impossible, after what has happened, to submit to that silence any longer.  She must be persuaded to tell us, or she must be forced to tell us, on what grounds she bases her belief that you took the Moonstone.  The chances are, that the whole of this case, serious as it seems now, will tumble to pieces, if we can only break through Rachel’s inveterate reserve, and prevail upon her to speak out.”

“That is a very comforting opinion for me,” I said.  “I own I should like to know.”

“You would like to know how I can justify it,” inter-posed Mr. Bruff.  “I can tell you in two minutes.  Understand, in the first place, that I look at this matter from a lawyer’s point of view.  It’s a question of evidence, with me.  Very well.  The evidence breaks down, at the outset, on one important point.”

“On what point?”

“You shall hear.  I admit that the mark of the name proves the nightgown to be yours.  I admit that the mark of the paint proves the nightgown to have made the smear on Rachel’s door.  But what evidence is there to prove that you are the person who wore it, on the night when the Diamond was lost?”

The objection struck me, all the more forcibly that it reflected an objection which I had felt myself.

“As to this,” pursued the lawyer taking up Rosanna Spearman’s confession, “I can understand that the letter is a distressing one to you.  I can understand that you may hesitate to analyse it from a purely impartial point of view.  But I am not in your position.  I can bring my professional experience to bear on this document, just as I should bring it to bear on any other.  Without alluding to the woman’s career as a thief, I will merely remark that her letter proves her to have been an adept at deception, on her own showing; and I argue from that, that I am justified in suspecting her of not having told the whole truth.  I won’t start any theory, at present, as to what she may or may not have done.  I will only say that, if Rachel has suspected you on the evidence of the nightgown only, the chances are ninety-nine to a hundred that Rosanna Spearman was the person who showed it to her.  In that case, there is the woman’s letter, confessing that she was jealous of Rachel, confessing that she changed the roses, confessing that she saw a glimpse of hope for herself, in the prospect of a quarrel between Rachel and you.  I don’t stop to ask who took the Moonstone (as a means to her end, Rosanna Spearman would have taken fifty Moonstones)—­I only say that the disappearance of the jewel gave this reclaimed thief who was in love with you, an opportunity of setting you and Rachel at variance for the rest of your lives.  She had not decided on destroying herself, then, remember; and, having the opportunity, I distinctly assert that it was in her character, and in her position at the time, to take it.  What do you say to that?”