The Moonstone, Wilkie Collins [best motivational books of all time .TXT] 📗

Let us leave it there, and go on to matters of more immediate importance. Read my notes, if you can. Familiarise your mind with what has happened in the past. I have something very bold and very startling to propose to you, which relates to the future.”

Those last words roused me.

I looked at the papers, in the order in which Ezra Jennings had placed them in my hands. The paper which contained the smaller quantity of writing was the uppermost of the two. On this, the disconnected words, and fragments of sentences, which had dropped from Mr. Candy in his delirium, appeared as follows:

“… Mr. Franklin Blake⁠ ⁠… and agreeable⁠ ⁠… down a peg⁠ ⁠… medicine⁠ ⁠… confesses⁠ ⁠… sleep at night⁠ ⁠… tell him⁠ ⁠… out of order⁠ ⁠… medicine⁠ ⁠… he tells me⁠ ⁠… and groping in the dark mean one and the same thing⁠ ⁠… all the company at the dinner-table⁠ ⁠… I say⁠ ⁠… groping after sleep⁠ ⁠… nothing but medicine⁠ ⁠… he says⁠ ⁠… leading the blind⁠ ⁠… know what it means⁠ ⁠… witty⁠ ⁠… a night’s rest in spite of his teeth⁠ ⁠… wants sleep⁠ ⁠… Lady Verinder’s medicine chest⁠ ⁠… five-and-twenty minims⁠ ⁠… without his knowing it⁠ ⁠… tomorrow morning⁠ ⁠… Well, Mr. Blake⁠ ⁠… medicine today⁠ ⁠… never⁠ ⁠… without it⁠ ⁠… out, Mr. Candy⁠ ⁠… excellent⁠ ⁠… without it⁠ ⁠… down on him⁠ ⁠… truth⁠ ⁠… something besides⁠ ⁠… excellent⁠ ⁠… dose of laudanum, sir⁠ ⁠… bed⁠ ⁠… what⁠ ⁠… medicine now.”

There, the first of the two sheets of paper came to an end. I handed it back to Ezra Jennings.

“That is what you heard at his bedside?” I said.

“Literally and exactly what I heard,” he answered⁠—“except that the repetitions are not transferred here from my shorthand notes. He reiterated certain words and phrases a dozen times over, fifty times over, just as he attached more or less importance to the idea which they represented. The repetitions, in this sense, were of some assistance to me in putting together those fragments. Don’t suppose,” he added, pointing to the second sheet of paper, “that I claim to have reproduced the expressions which Mr. Candy himself would have used if he had been capable of speaking connectedly. I only say that I have penetrated through the obstacle of the disconnected expression, to the thought which was underlying it connectedly all the time. Judge for yourself.”

I turned to the second sheet of paper, which I now knew to be the key to the first.

Once more, Mr. Candy’s wanderings appeared, copied in black ink; the intervals between the phrases being filled up by Ezra Jennings in red ink. I reproduce the result here, in one plain form; the original language and the interpretation of it coming close enough together in these pages to be easily compared and verified.

“… Mr. Franklin Blake is clever and agreeable, but he wants taking down a peg when he talks of medicine. He confesses that he has been suffering from want of sleep at night. I tell him that his nerves are out of order, and that he ought to take medicine. He tells me that taking medicine and groping in the dark mean one and the same thing. This before all the company at the dinner-table. I say to him, you are groping after sleep, and nothing but medicine can help you to find it. He says to me, I have heard of the blind leading the blind, and now I know what it means. Witty⁠—but I can give him a night’s rest in spite of his teeth. He really wants sleep; and Lady Verinder’s medicine chest is at my disposal. Give him five-and-twenty minims of laudanum tonight, without his knowing it; and then call tomorrow morning. ‘Well, Mr. Blake, will you try a little medicine today? You will never sleep without it.’⁠—‘There you are out, Mr. Candy: I have had an excellent night’s rest without it.’ Then, come down on him with the truth! ‘You have had something besides an excellent night’s rest; you had a dose of laudanum, sir, before you went to bed. What do you say to the art of medicine, now?’ ”

Admiration of the ingenuity which had woven this smooth and finished texture out of the ravelled skein was naturally the first impression that I felt, on handing the manuscript back to Ezra Jennings. He modestly interrupted the first few words in which my sense of surprise expressed itself, by asking me if the conclusion which he had drawn from his notes was also the conclusion at which my own mind had arrived.

“Do you believe as I believe,” he said, “that you were acting under the influence of the laudanum in doing all that you did, on the night of Miss Verinder’s birthday, in Lady Verinder’s house?”

“I am too ignorant of the influence of laudanum to have an opinion of my own,” I answered. “I can only follow your opinion, and feel convinced that you are right.”

“Very well. The next question is this. You are convinced; and I am convinced⁠—how are we to carry our conviction to the minds of other people?”

I pointed to the two manuscripts, lying on the table between us. Ezra Jennings shook his head.

“Useless, Mr. Blake! Quite useless, as they stand now for three unanswerable reasons. In the first place, those notes have been taken under circumstances entirely out of the experience of the mass of mankind. Against them, to begin with! In the second place, those notes represent a medical and metaphysical theory. Against them, once more! In the third place, those notes are of my making; there is nothing but my assertion to the contrary, to guarantee that they are not fabrications. Remember what I told you on the moor⁠—and ask yourself what my assertion is worth. No! my notes have but one value, looking to the verdict of the world outside. Your innocence is to be vindicated; and they show how it can be done. We must put our conviction to the proof⁠—and you are the man to prove it!”

“How?” I asked.

He leaned eagerly nearer to me across the table that divided us.

“Are you willing to try a bold experiment?”

“I will do anything to clear myself of the suspicion that rests on me now.”

“Will you submit to