“From this moment?”

“That is the first step.  The next step is to reproduce, as nearly as we can, the domestic circumstances which surrounded you last year.”

How was this to be done?  Lady Verinder was dead.  Rachel and I, so long as the suspicion of theft rested on me, were parted irrevocably.  Godfrey Ablewhite was away travelling on the Continent.  It was simply impossible to reassemble the people who had inhabited the house, when I had slept in it last.  The statement of this objection did not appear to embarrass Ezra Jennings.  He attached very little importance, he said, to reassembling the same people—­seeing that it would be vain to expect them to reassume the various positions which they had occupied towards me in the past times.  On the other hand, he considered it essential to the success of the experiment, that I should see the same objects about me which had surrounded me when I was last in the house.

“Above all things,” he said, “you must sleep in the room which you slept in, on the birthday night, and it must be furnished in the same way.  The stairs, the corridors, and Miss Verinder’s sitting-room, must also be restored to what they were when you saw them last.  It is absolutely necessary, Mr. Blake, to replace every article of furniture in that part of the house which may now be put away.  The sacrifice of your cigars will be useless, unless we can get Miss Verinder’s permission to do that.”

“Who is to apply to her for permission?” I asked.

“Is it not possible for you to apply?”

“Quite out of the question.  After what has passed between us on the subject of the lost Diamond, I can neither see her, nor write to her, as things are now.”

Ezra Jennings paused, and considered for a moment.

“May I ask you a delicate question?” he said.

I signed to him to go on.

“Am I right, Mr. Blake, in fancying (from one or two things which have dropped from you) that you felt no common interest in Miss Verinder, in former times?”

“Quite right.”

“Was the feeling returned?”

“It was.”

“Do you think Miss Verinder would be likely to feel a strong interest in the attempt to prove your innocence?”

“I am certain of it.”

“In that case, I will write to Miss Verinder—­if you will give me leave.”

“Telling her of the proposal that you have made to me?”

“Telling her of everything that has passed between us to-day.”

It is needless to say that I eagerly accepted the service which he had offered to me.

“I shall have time to write by to-day’s post,” he said, looking at his watch.  “Don’t forget to lock up your cigars, when you get back to the hotel!  I will call to-morrow morning and hear how you have passed the night.”

I rose to take leave of him; and attempted to express the grateful sense of his kindness which I really felt.