THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE 21 page

Date: 2015-10-07; view: 352.

nothing of it. You may go to any expense which you think

necessary. I have already offered a reward of 1000 pounds. My

God, what shall I do! I have lost my honour, my gems, and my son

in one night. Oh, what shall I do!"

He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to

and fro, droning to himself like a child whose grief has got

beyond words.

Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows

knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire.

"Do you receive much company?" he asked.

"None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of

Arthur's. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No

one else, I think."

"Do you go out much in society?"

"Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for

it."

"That is unusual in a young girl."

"She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She

is four-and-twenty."

"This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to

her also."

"Terrible! She is even more affected than I."

"You have neither of you any doubt as to your son's guilt?"

"How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet

in his hands."

"I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of

the coronet at all injured?"

"Yes, it was twisted."

"Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to

straighten it?"

"God bless you! You are doing what you can for him and for me.

But it is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If

his purpose were innocent, why did he not say so?"

"Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie?

His silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several

singular points about the case. What did the police think of the

noise which awoke you from your sleep?"

"They considered that it might be caused by Arthur's closing his

bedroom door."

"A likely story! As if a man bent on felony would slam his door

so as to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the

disappearance of these gems?"

"They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture

in the hope of finding them."

"Have they thought of looking outside the house?"

"Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden has

already been minutely examined."

"Now, my dear sir," said Holmes. "is it not obvious to you now

that this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you

or the police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you

to be a simple case; to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider

what is involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came

down from his bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room,

opened your bureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main

force a small portion of it, went off to some other place,

concealed three gems out of the thirty-nine, with such skill that

nobody can find them, and then returned with the other thirty-six

into the room in which he exposed himself to the greatest danger

of being discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory tenable?"

"But what other is there?" cried the banker with a gesture of

despair. "If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain

them?"

"It is our task to find that out," replied Holmes; "so now, if

you please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together,

and devote an hour to glancing a little more closely into

details."

My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition,

which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy

were deeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I

confess that the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be

as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such

faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt that there must be some

grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted

explanation. He hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the

southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his

hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. Our client

appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope

which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a

desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway

journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest

residence of the great financier.

Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing

back a little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a

snow-clad lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates

which closed the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden

thicket, which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges

stretching from the road to the kitchen door, and forming the

tradesmen's entrance. On the left ran a lane which led to the

stables, and was not itself within the grounds at all, being a

public, though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us standing

at the door and walked slowly all round the house, across the

front, down the tradesmen's path, and so round by the garden

behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I

went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until he should

return. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and

a young lady came in. She was rather above the middle height,

slim, with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against

the absolute pallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever

seen such deadly paleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were

bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept

silently into the room she impressed me with a greater sense of

grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the

more striking in her as she was evidently a woman of strong

character, with immense capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding

my presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed her hand

over his head with a sweet womanly caress.

"You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you

not, dad?" she asked.

"No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to the bottom."

"But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman's

instincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will

be sorry for having acted so harshly."

"Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent?"

"Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should

suspect him."

"How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with

the coronet in his hand?"

"Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take

my word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say

no more. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in

prison!"

"I shall never let it drop until the gems are found--never, Mary!

Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences

to me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman

down from London to inquire more deeply into it."

"This gentleman?" she asked, facing round to me.

"No, his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round in

the stable lane now."

"The stable lane?" She raised her dark eyebrows. "What can he

hope to find there? Ah! this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir,

that you will succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth,

that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this crime."

"I fully share your opinion, and I trust, with you, that we may

prove it," returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the

snow from his shoes. "I believe I have the honour of addressing

Miss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a question or two?"

"Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up."

"You heard nothing yourself last night?"

"Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heard

that, and I came down."

"You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you

fasten all the windows?"

"Yes."

"Were they all fastened this morning?"

"Yes."

"You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked

to your uncle last night that she had been out to see him?"

"Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and

who may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet."

"I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her

sweetheart, and that the two may have planned the robbery."

"But what is the good of all these vague theories," cried the

banker impatiently, "when I have told you that I saw Arthur with

the coronet in his hands?"

"Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this

girl, Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I

presume?"

"Yes; when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I

met her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom."

"Do you know him?"

"Oh, yes! he is the green-grocer who brings our vegetables round.

His name is Francis Prosper."

"He stood," said Holmes, "to the left of the door--that is to

say, farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door?"

"Yes, he did."

"And he is a man with a wooden leg?"

Something like fear sprang up in the young lady's expressive

black eyes. "Why, you are like a magician," said she. "How do you

know that?" She smiled, but there was no answering smile in

Holmes' thin, eager face.

"I should be very glad now to go upstairs," said he. "I shall

probably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps

I had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up."

He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at

the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane.

This he opened and made a very careful examination of the sill

with his powerful magnifying lens. "Now we shall go upstairs,"

said he at last.

The banker's dressing-room was a plainly furnished little

chamber, with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror.

Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock.

"Which key was used to open it?" he asked.

"That which my son himself indicated--that of the cupboard of the

lumber-room."

"Have you it here?"

"That is it on the dressing-table."

Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau.

"It is a noiseless lock," said he. "It is no wonder that it did

not wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must

have a look at it." He opened the case, and taking out the diadem

he laid it upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the

jeweller's art, and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I

have ever seen. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge,

where a corner holding three gems had been torn away.

"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "here is the corner which

corresponds to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I

beg that you will break it off."

The banker recoiled in horror. "I should not dream of trying,"

said he.

"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but

without result. "I feel it give a little," said he; "but, though

I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my

time to break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do

you think would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would

be a noise like a pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this

happened within a few yards of your bed and that you heard

nothing of it?"

"I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me."

"But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think,

Miss Holder?"

"I confess that I still share my uncle's perplexity."

"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?"

"He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt."

"Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary

luck during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault

if we do not succeed in clearing the matter up. With your

permission, Mr. Holder, I shall now continue my investigations

outside."

He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any

unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an

hour or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet

heavy with snow and his features as inscrutable as ever.

"I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr.

Holder," said he; "I can serve you best by returning to my

rooms."

"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?"

"I cannot tell."

The banker wrung his hands. "I shall never see them again!" he

cried. "And my son? You give me hopes?"

"My opinion is in no way altered."

"Then, for God's sake, what was this dark business which was

acted in my house last night?"

"If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms to-morrow

morning between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to

make it clearer. I understand that you give me carte blanche to

act for you, provided only that I get back the gems, and that you

place no limit on the sum I may draw."

"I would give my fortune to have them back."

"Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then.

Good-bye; it is just possible that I may have to come over here

again before evening."

It was obvious to me that my companion's mind was now made up

about the case, although what his conclusions were was more than

I could even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward

journey I endeavoured to sound him upon the point, but he always

glided away to some other topic, until at last I gave it over in

despair. It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our

rooms once more. He hurried to his chamber and was down again in

a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned

up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn boots, he

was a perfect sample of the class.

"I think that this should do," said he, glancing into the glass

above the fireplace. "I only wish that you could come with me,

Watson, but I fear that it won't do. I may be on the trail in

this matter, or I may be following a will-o'-the-wisp, but I

shall soon know which it is. I hope that I may be back in a few

hours." He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard,

sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, and thrusting this

rude meal into his pocket he started off upon his expedition.

I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in

excellent spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his

hand. He chucked it down into a corner and helped himself to a

cup of tea.

"I only looked in as I passed," said he. "I am going right on."

"Where to?"

"Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time

before I get back. Don't wait up for me in case I should be

late."

"How are you getting on?"

"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham

since I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a

very sweet little problem, and I would not have missed it for a

good deal. However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get

these disreputable clothes off and return to my highly

respectable self."

I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for

satisfaction than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled,

and there was even a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He

hastened upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of

the hall door, which told me that he was off once more upon his

congenial hunt.

I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so

I retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away

for days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that

his lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he

came in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there

he was with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the

other, as fresh and trim as possible.

"You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson," said he, "but

you remember that our client has rather an early appointment this

morning."

"Why, it is after nine now," I answered. "I should not be

surprised if that were he. I thought I heard a ring."

It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the

change which had come over him, for his face which was naturally

of a broad and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in,

while his hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered

with a weariness and lethargy which was even more painful than

his violence of the morning before, and he dropped heavily into

the armchair which I pushed forward for him.

"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said

he. "Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without

a care in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured

age. One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece,

Mary, has deserted me."

"Deserted you?"

"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was

empty, and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to

her last night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had

married my boy all might have been well with him. Perhaps it was

thoughtless of me to say so. It is to that remark that she refers

in this note:

"'MY DEAREST UNCLE:--I feel that I have brought trouble upon you,

and that if I had acted differently this terrible misfortune

might never have occurred. I cannot, with this thought in my

mind, ever again be happy under your roof, and I feel that I must

leave you forever. Do not worry about my future, for that is

provided for; and, above all, do not search for me, for it will

be fruitless labour and an ill-service to me. In life or in

death, I am ever your loving,--MARY.'

"What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it

points to suicide?"

"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible

solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of

your troubles."

"Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. Holmes; you have

learned something! Where are the gems?"

"You would not think 1000 pounds apiece an excessive sum for

them?"

"I would pay ten."

"That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter.

And there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your check-book?

Here is a pen. Better make it out for 4000 pounds."

With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes

walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of

gold with three gems in it, and threw it down upon the table.

With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up.

"You have it!" he gasped. "I am saved! I am saved!"

The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and

he hugged his recovered gems to his bosom.

"There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder," said Sherlock

Holmes rather sternly.

"Owe!" He caught up a pen. "Name the sum, and I will pay it."

"No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that

noble lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I

should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to

have one."

"Then it was not Arthur who took them?"

"I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not."

"You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him

know that the truth is known."

"He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an

interview with him, and finding that he would not tell me the

story, I told it to him, on which he had to confess that I was

right and to add the very few details which were not yet quite

clear to me. Your news of this morning, however, may open his

lips."

"For heaven's sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary

mystery!"

"I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached

it. And let me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me

to say and for you to hear: there has been an understanding

between Sir George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now

fled together."

"My Mary? Impossible!"

"It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither

you nor your son knew the true character of this man when you

admitted him into your family circle. He is one of the most

dangerous men in England--a ruined gambler, an absolutely

desperate villain, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece

knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as he

had done to a hundred before her, she flattered herself that she

alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what he said,

but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing

him nearly every evening."

"I cannot, and I will not, believe it!" cried the banker with an

ashen face.

"I will tell you, then, what occurred in your house last night.

Your niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room,

slipped down and talked to her lover through the window which

leads into the stable lane. His footmarks had pressed right

through the snow, so long had he stood there. She told him of the

coronet. His wicked lust for gold kindled at the news, and he

bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she loved you, but

there are women in whom the love of a lover extinguishes all

other loves, and I think that she must have been one. She had

hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you coming

downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you

about one of the servants' escapade with her wooden-legged lover,

which was all perfectly true.

"Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but

he slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts.

In the middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door,

so he rose and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin

walking very stealthily along the passage until she disappeared

into your dressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad

slipped on some clothes and waited there in the dark to see what

would come of this strange affair. Presently she emerged from the

room again, and in the light of the passage-lamp your son saw

that she carried the precious coronet in her hands. She passed

down the stairs, and he, thrilling with horror, ran along and

slipped behind the curtain near your door, whence he could see

what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her stealthily open the

window, hand out the coronet to someone in the gloom, and then

closing it once more hurry back to her room, passing quite close

to where he stood hid behind the curtain.

"As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action

without a horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the

instant that she was gone he realised how crushing a misfortune

this would be for you, and how all-important it was to set it

right. He rushed down, just as he was, in his bare feet, opened

the window, sprang out into the snow, and ran down the lane,

where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight. Sir George

Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was

a struggle between them, your lad tugging at one side of the

coronet, and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle, your son

struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then something

suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the coronet

in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to your

room, and had just observed that the coronet had been twisted in

the struggle and was endeavouring to straighten it when you

appeared upon the scene."

"Is it possible?" gasped the banker.

"You then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when

he felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He could not

explain the true state of affairs without betraying one who

certainly deserved little enough consideration at his hands. He

took the more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her

secret."

"And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the

coronet," cried Mr. Holder. "Oh, my God! what a blind fool I have