shadow would fall when the sun was just clear of the oak."
"That must have been difficult, Holmes, when the elm was no longer
there."
"Well, at least I knew that if Brunton could do it, I could also.
Besides, there was no real difficulty. I went with Musgrave to his
study and whittled myself this peg, to which I tied this long string
with a knot at each yard. Then I took two lengths of a fishing-rod,
which came to just six feet, and I went back with my client to where
the elm had been. The sun was just grazing the top of the oak. I
fastened the rod on end, marked out the direction of the shadow, and
measured it. It was nine feet in length.
"Of course the calculation now was a simple one. If a rod of six feet
threw a shadow of nine, a tree of sixty-four feet would throw one of
ninety-six, and the line of the one would of course the line of the
other. I measured out the distance, which brought me almost to the
wall of the house, and I thrust a peg into the spot. You can imagine
my exultation, Watson, when within two inches of my peg I saw a
conical depression in the ground. I knew that it was the mark made by
Brunton in his measurements, and that I was still upon his trail.
"From this starting-point I proceeded to step, having first taken the
cardinal points by my pocket-compass. Ten steps with each foot took
me along parallel with the wall of the house, and again I marked my
spot with a peg. Then I carefully paced off five to the east and two
to the south. It brought me to the very threshold of the old door.
Two steps to the west meant now that I was to go two paces down the
stone-flagged passage, and this was the place indicated by the
Ritual.
"Never have I felt such a cold chill of disappointment, Watson. For a
moment is seemed to me that there must be some radical mistake in my
calculations. The setting sun shone full upon the passage floor, and
I could see that the old, foot-worn gray stones with which it was
paved were firmly cemented together, and had certainly not been moved
for many a long year. Brunton had not been at work here. I tapped
upon the floor, but it sounded the same all over, and there was no
sign of any crack or crevice. But, Fortunately, Musgrave, who had
begun to appreciate the meaning of my proceedings, and who was now as
excited as myself, took out his manuscript to check my calculation.
"'And under,' he cried. 'You have omitted the "and under."'
"I had thought that it meant that we were to dig, but now, of course,
I saw at once that I was wrong. 'There is a cellar under this then?'
I cried.
"'Yes, and as old as the house. Down here, through this door.'
"We went down a winding stone stair, and my companion, striking a
match, lit a large lantern which stood on a barrel in the corner. In
an instant it was obvious that we had at last come upon the true
place, and that we had not been the only people to visit the spot
recently.
"It had been used for the storage of wood, but the billets, which had
evidently been littered over the floor, were now piled at the sides,
so as to leave a clear space in the middle. In this space lay a large
and heavy flagstone with a rusted iron ring in the centre to which a
thick shepherd's-check muffler was attached.
"'By Jove!' cried my client. 'That's Brunton's muffler. I have seen
it on him, and could swear to it. What has the villain been doing
here?'
"At my suggestion a couple of the county police were summoned to be
present, and I then endeavored to raise the stone by pulling on the
cravat. I could only move it slightly, and it was with the aid of one
of the constables that I succeeded at last in carrying it to one
side. A black hole yawned beneath into which we all peered, while
Musgrave, kneeling at the side, pushed down the lantern.
"A small chamber about seven feet deep and four feet square lay open
to us. At one side of this was a squat, brass-bound wooden box, the
lid of which was hinged upwards, with this curious old-fashioned key
projecting from the lock. It was furred outside by a thick layer of
dust, and damp and worms had eaten through the wood, so that a crop
of livid fungi was growing on the inside of it. Several discs of
metal, old coins apparently, such as I hold here, were scattered over
the bottom of the box, but it contained nothing else.
"At the moment, however, we had no thought for the old chest, for our
eyes were riveted upon that which crouched beside it. It was the
figure of a man, clad in a suit of black, who squatted down upon his
hams with his forehead sunk upon the edge of the box and his two arms
thrown out on each side of it. The attitude had drawn all the
stagnant blood to the face, and no man could have recognized that
distorted liver-colored countenance; but his height, his dress, and
his hair were all sufficient to show my client, when we had drawn the
body up, that it was indeed his missing butler. He had been dead some
days, but there was no wound or bruise upon his person to show how he
had met his dreadful end. When his body had been carried from the
cellar we found ourselves still confronted with a problem which was
almost as formidable as that with which we had started.
"I confess that so far, Watson, I had been disappointed in my
investigation. I had reckoned upon solving the matter when once I had
found the place referred to in the Ritual; but now I was there, and
was apparently as far as ever from knowing what it was which the
family had concealed with such elaborate precautions. It is true that
I had thrown a light upon the fate of Brunton, but now I had to
ascertain how that fate had come upon him, and what part had been
played in the matter by the woman who had disappeared. I sat down
upon a keg in the corner and thought the whole matter carefully over.
"You know my methods in such cases, Watson. I put myself in the man's
place and, having first gauged his intelligence, I try to imagine how
I should myself have proceeded under the same circumstances. In this
case the matter was simplified by Brunton's intelligence being quite
first-rate, so that it was unnecessary to make any allowance for the
personal equation, as the astronomers have dubbed it. He knew that
something valuable was concealed. He had spotted the place. He found
that the stone which covered it was just too heavy for a man to move
unaided. What would he do next? He could not get help from outside,
even if he had some one whom he could trust, without the unbarring of
doors and considerable risk of detection. It was better, if he could,
to have his helpmate inside the house. But whom could he ask? This
girl had been devoted to him. A man always finds it hard to realize
that he may have finally lost a woman's love, however badly he may
have treated her. He would try by a few attentions to make his peace
with the girl Howells, and then would engage her as his accomplice.
Together they would come at night to the cellar, and their united
force would suffice to raise the stone. So far I could follow their
actions as if I had actually seen them.
"But for two of them, and one a woman, it must have been heavy work
the raising of that stone. A burly Sussex policeman and I had found
it no light job. What would they do to assist them? Probably what I
should have done myself. I rose and examined carefully the different
billets of wood which were scattered round the floor. Almost at once
I came upon what I expected. One piece, about three feet in length,
had a very marked indentation at one end, while several were
flattened at the sides as if they had been compressed by some
considerable weight. Evidently, as they had dragged the stone up they
had thrust the chunks of wood into the chink, until at last, when the
opening was large enough to crawl through, they would hold it open by
a billet placed lengthwise, which might very well become indented at
the lower end, since the whole weight of the stone would press it
down on to the edge of this other slab. So far I was still on safe
ground.
"And now how was I to proceed to reconstruct this midnight drama?
Clearly, only one could fit into the hole, and that one was Brunton.
The girl must have waited above. Brunton then unlocked the box,
handed up the contents presumably--since they were not to be
found--and then--and then what happened?
"What smouldering fire of vengeance had suddenly sprung into flame in
this passionate Celtic woman's soul when she saw the man who had
wronged her--wronged her, perhaps, far more than we suspected--in her
power? Was it a chance that the wood had slipped, and that the stone
had shut Brunton into what had become his sepulchre? Had she only
been guilty of silence as to his fate? Or had some sudden blow from
her hand dashed the support away and sent the slab crashing down into
its place? Be that as it might, I seemed to see that woman's figure
still clutching at her treasure trove and flying wildly up the
winding stair, with her ears ringing perhaps with the muffled screams
from behind her and with the drumming of frenzied hands against the
slab of stone which was choking her faithless lover's life out.
"Here was the secret of her blanched face, her shaken nerves, her
peals of hysterical laughter on the next morning. But what had been
in the box? What had she done with that? Of course, it must have been
the old metal and pebbles which my client had dragged from the mere.
She had thrown them in there at the first opportunity to remove the
last trace of her crime.
"For twenty minutes I had sat motionless, thinking the matter out.
Musgrave still stood with a very pale face, swinging his lantern and
peering down into the hole.
"'These are coins of Charles the First,' said he, holding out the few
which had been in the box; 'you see we were right in fixing our date
for the Ritual.'
"'We may find something else of Charles the First,' I cried, as the
probable meaning of the first two question of the Ritual broke
suddenly upon me. 'Let me see the contents of the bag which you
fished from the mere.'
"We ascended to his study, and he laid the debris before me. I could
understand his regarding it as of small importance when I looked at
it, for the metal was almost black and the stones lustreless and
dull. I rubbed one of them on my sleeve, however, and it glowed
afterwards like a spark in the dark hollow of my hand. The metal work
was in the form of a double ring, but it had been bent and twisted
out of its original shape.
"'You must bear in mind,' said I, 'that the royal party made head in
England even after the death of the king, and that when they at last
fled they probably left many of their most precious possessions
buried behind them, with the intention of returning for them in more
peaceful times.'
"'My ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave, was a prominent Cavalier and the
right-hand man of Charles the Second in his wanderings,' said my
friend.
"'Ah, indeed!' I answered. 'Well now, I think that really should give
us the last link that we wanted. I must congratulate you on coming
into the possession, though in rather a tragic manner of a relic
which is of great intrinsic value, but of even greater importance as
an historical curiosity.'
"'What is it, then?' he gasped in astonishment.
"'It is nothing less than the ancient crown of the kings of England.'
"'The crown!'
"'Precisely. Consider what the Ritual says: How does it run? "Whose
was it?" "His who is gone." That was after the execution of Charles.
Then, "Who shall have it?" "He who will come." That was Charles the
Second, whose advent was already foreseen. There can, I think, be no
doubt that this battered and shapeless diadem once encircled the
brows of the royal Stuarts.'
"'And how came it in the pond?'
"'Ah, that is a question that will take some time to answer.' And
with that I sketched out to him the whole long chain of surmise and
of proof which I had constructed. The twilight had closed in and the
moon was shining brightly in the sky before my narrative was
finished.
"'And how was it then that Charles did not get his crown when he
returned?' asked Musgrave, pushing back the relic into its linen bag.
"'Ah, there you lay your finger upon the one point which we shall
probably never be able to clear up. It is likely that the Musgrave
who held the secret died in the interval, and by some oversight left
this guide to his descendant without explaining the meaning of it.
From that day to this it has been handed down from father to son,
until at last it came within reach of a man who tore its secret out
of it and lost his life in the venture.'
"And that's the story of the Musgrave Ritual, Watson. They have the
