第 39 页

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 Sher-

lock 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 understand-

ing 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 disap-

peared 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 realized how crushing a misfor-

tune 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 been! And his asking to be allowed to go out for five

minutes! The dear fellow wanted to see if the missing piece were

at the scene of the struggle. How cruelly I have misjudged him!'

"When I arrived at the house," continued Holmes, "I at once

went very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in

the snow which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since

the evening before, and also that there had been a strong frost to

preserve impressions. I passed along the tradesmen's path, but

found it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it,

however, at the far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stood

and talked with a man, whose round impressions on one side

showed that he had a wooden leg. I could even tell that they had

been disturbed, for the woman had run back swiftly to the door,

as was shown by the deep toe and light heel marks, while

Wooden-leg had waited a little, and then had gone away. I

thought at the time that this might be the maid and her sweet-

heart, of whom you had already spoken to me, and inquiry

showed it was so. I passed round the garden without seeing

anything more than random tracks, which I took to be the police;

but when I got into the stable lane a very long and complex story

was written in the snow in front of me.

"There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a

second double line which I saw with delight belonged to a man

with naked feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told

me that the latter was your son. The first had walked both ways,

but the other had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in

places over the depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had

passed after the other. I followed them up and found they led to

the hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow away while

waiting. Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred

yards or more down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced

round, where the snow was cut up as though there had been a

struggle, and, finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to

show me that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the

lane, and another little smudge of blood showed that it was he

who had been hurt. When he came to the highroad at the other

end, I found that the pavement had been cleared, so there was an

end to that clue.

"On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remem-

ber, the sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and

I could at once see that someone had passed out. I could distin-

guish the outline of an instep where the wet foot had been placed

in coming in. I was then beginning to be able to form an opinion

as to what had occurred. A man had waited outside the window;

someone had brought the gems; the deed had been overseen by

your son; he had pursued the thief; had struggled with him; they

had each tugged at the coronet, their united strength causing

injuries which neither alone could have effected. He had returned

with the prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of his

opponent. So far I was clear. The question now was, who was

the man and who was it brought him the coronet?

"It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the

impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the

truth. Now, I knew that it was not you who had brought it down,

so there only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were

the maids, why should your son allow himself to be accused in

their place? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his

cousin, however, there was an excellent explanation why he

should retain her secret -- the more so as the secret was a dis-

graceful one. When I remembered that you had seen her at that

window, and how she had fainted on seeing the coronet again,

my conjecture became a certainty.

"And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover

evidently, for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude

which she must feel to you? I knew that you went out little, and

that your circle of friends was a very limited one. But among

them was Sir George Burnwell. I had heard of him before as

being a man of evil reputation among women. It must have been

he who wore those boots and retained the missing gems. Even

though he knew that Arthur had discovered him, he might still

flatter himself that he was safe, for the lad could not say a word

without compromising his own family.

"Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I

took next. I went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George's house,

managed to pick up an acquaintance with his valet, learned that

his master had cut his head the night before, and, finally, at the

expense of six shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of his

cast-off shoes. With these I journeyed down to Streatham and

saw that they exactly fitted the tracks."

"I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening,"

said Mr. Holder.

"Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came

home and changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had

to play then, for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to

avert scandal, and I knew that so astute a villain would see that

our hands were tied in the matter. I went and saw him. At first,

of course, he denied everything. But when I gave him every

particular that had occurred, he tried to bluster and took down a

life-preserver from the wall. I knew my man, however, and I

clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. Then he

became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give

him a price for the stones he held lOOO pounds apiece. That brought

out the first signs of grief that he had shown. 'Why, dash it all!'

said he, 'I've let them go at six hundred for the three!' I soon

managed to get the address of the receiver who had them, on

promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I set to

him, and after much chaffering I got our stones at 1000 pounds apiece.

Then I looked in upon your son, told him that all was right, and

eventually got to my bed about two o'clock, after what I may

call a really hard day's work."

"A day which has saved England from a great public scan-

dal," said the banker, rising. "Sir, I cannot find words to thank

you, but you shall not find me ungrateful for what you have

done. Your skill has indeed exceeded all that I have heard of it.

And now I must fly to my dear boy to apologize to him for the

wrong which I have done him. As to what you tell me of poor

Mary, it goes to my very heart. Not even your skill can inform

me where she is now."

"I think that we may safely say," returned Holmes, "that she

is wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too,

that whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than

sufficient punishment."

The Adventure of the Copper Beeches

"To the man who loves art for its own sake," remarked Sher-

lock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily

Telegraph, "it is frequently in its least important and lowliest

manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is

pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped