                       THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET

     "Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking
     down the street, "here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad
     that his relatives should allow him to come out alone."

     My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in
     the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a
     bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still
     lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down
     the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly
     band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of
     the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey
     pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously
     slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed,
     from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save
     the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention.

     He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a
     massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed
     in a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat, shining hat, neat
     brown gaiters, and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were
     in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he
     was running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man
     gives who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his legs. As he
     ran he jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and writhed
     his face into the most extraordinary contortions.

     "What on earth can be the matter with him?" I asked. "He is looking
     up at the numbers of the houses."

     "I believe that he is coming here," said Holmes, rubbing his hands.

     "Here?"

     "Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I
     think that I recognise the symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you?" As he
     spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at
     our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging.

     A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still
     gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his
     eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity.
     For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and
     plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme
     limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat
     his head against the wall with such force that we both rushed upon
     him and tore him away to the centre of the room. Sherlock Holmes
     pushed him down into the easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted
     his hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing tones which he
     knew so well how to employ.

     "You have come to me to tell your story, have you not?" said he. "You
     are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until you have recovered
     yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into any little
     problem which you may submit to me."

     The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting
     against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow,
     set his lips tight, and turned his face towards us.

     "No doubt you think me mad?" said he.

     "I see that you have had some great trouble," responded Holmes.

     "God knows I have!--a trouble which is enough to unseat my reason, so
     sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might have faced,
     although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain.
     Private affliction also is the lot of every man; but the two coming
     together, and in so frightful a form, have been enough to shake my
     very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land
     may suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair."

     "Pray compose yourself, sir," said Holmes, "and let me have a clear
     account of who you are and what it is that has befallen you."

     "My name," answered our visitor, "is probably familiar to your ears.
     I am Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder & Stevenson, of
     Threadneedle Street."

     The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior
     partner in the second largest private banking concern in the City of
     London. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the foremost
     citizens of London to this most pitiable pass? We waited, all
     curiosity, until with another effort he braced himself to tell his
     story.

     "I feel that time is of value," said he; "that is why I hastened here
     when the police inspector suggested that I should secure your
     co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried
     from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is
     why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little
     exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the facts before you as
     shortly and yet as clearly as I can.

     "It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking
     business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative
     investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection and
     the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means of
     laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security is
     unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction during the
     last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have
     advanced large sums upon the security of their pictures, libraries,
     or plate.

     "Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a card
     was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I saw the
     name, for it was that of none other than--well, perhaps even to you I
     had better say no more than that it was a name which is a household
     word all over the earth--one of the highest, noblest, most exalted
     names in England. I was overwhelmed by the honour and attempted, when
     he entered, to say so, but he plunged at once into business with the
     air of a man who wishes to hurry quickly through a disagreeable task.

     "'Mr. Holder,' said he, 'I have been informed that you are in the
     habit of advancing money.'

     "'The firm does so when the security is good.' I answered.

     "'It is absolutely essential to me,' said he, 'that I should have
     £50,000 at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten
     times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it a matter of
     business and to carry out that business myself. In my position you
     can readily understand that it is unwise to place one's self under
     obligations.'

     "'For how long, may I ask, do you want this sum?' I asked.

     "'Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most
     certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it
     right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the money should
     be paid at once.'

     "'I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my own
     private purse,' said I, 'were it not that the strain would be rather
     more than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do it in the
     name of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must insist that,
     even in your case, every businesslike precaution should be taken.'

     "'I should much prefer to have it so,' said he, raising up a square,
     black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair.  'You have
     doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?'

     "'One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,' said I.

     "'Precisely.' He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft,
     flesh-coloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery which
     he had named. 'There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,' said he, 'and
     the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The lowest estimate
     would put the worth of the coronet at double the sum which I have
     asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my security.'

     "I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some perplexity
     from it to my illustrious client.

     "'You doubt its value?' he asked.

     "'Not at all. I only doubt--'

     "'The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest about
     that. I should not dream of doing so were it not absolutely certain
     that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a pure matter
     of form. Is the security sufficient?'

     "'Ample.'

     "'You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof of
     the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I have
     heard of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to refrain
     from all gossip upon the matter but, above all, to preserve this
     coronet with every possible precaution because I need not say that a
     great public scandal would be caused if any harm were to befall it.
     Any injury to it would be almost as serious as its complete loss, for
     there are no beryls in the world to match these, and it would be
     impossible to replace them. I leave it with you, however, with every
     confidence, and I shall call for it in person on Monday morning.'

     "Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more but,
     calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty £1000 notes.
     When I was alone once more, however, with the precious case lying
     upon the table in front of me, I could not but think with some
     misgivings of the immense responsibility which it entailed upon me.
     There could be no doubt that, as it was a national possession, a
     horrible scandal would ensue if any misfortune should occur to it. I
     already regretted having ever consented to take charge of it.
     However, it was too late to alter the matter now, so I locked it up
     in my private safe and turned once more to my work.

     "When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave so
     precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers' safes had been
     forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how terrible
     would be the position in which I should find myself! I determined,
     therefore, that for the next few days I would always carry the case
     backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of
     my reach. With this intention, I called a cab and drove out to my
     house at Streatham, carrying the jewel with me. I did not breathe
     freely until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of
     my dressing-room.

     "And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes, for I wish you to
     thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep out
     of the house, and may be set aside altogether. I have three
     maid-servants who have been with me a number of years and whose
     absolute reliability is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy Parr,
     the second waiting-maid, has only been in my service a few months.
     She came with an excellent character, however, and has always given
     me satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has attracted admirers
     who have occasionally hung about the place. That is the only drawback
     which we have found to her, but we believe her to be a thoroughly
     good girl in every way.

     "So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it will
     not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an only son,
     Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes--a grievous
     disappointment. I have no doubt that I am myself to blame. People
     tell me that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have. When my dear
     wife died I felt that he was all I had to love. I could not bear to
     see the smile fade even for a moment from his face. I have never
     denied him a wish. Perhaps it would have been better for both of us
     had I been sterner, but I meant it for the best.

     "It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my
     business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, wayward,
     and, to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the handling of
     large sums of money. When he was young he became a member of an
     aristocratic club, and there, having charming manners, he was soon
     the intimate of a number of men with long purses and expensive
     habits. He learned to play heavily at cards and to squander money on
     the turf, until he had again and again to come to me and implore me
     to give him an advance upon his allowance, that he might settle his
     debts of honour. He tried more than once to break away from the
     dangerous company which he was keeping, but each time the influence
     of his friend, Sir George Burnwell, was enough to draw him back
     again.

     "And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George
     Burnwell should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently
     brought him to my house, and I have found myself that I could hardly
     resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man
     of the world to his finger-tips, one who had been everywhere, seen
     everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beauty.
     Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of
     his presence, I am convinced from his cynical speech and the look
     which I have caught in his eyes that he is one who should be deeply
     distrusted. So I think, and so, too, thinks my little Mary, who has a
     woman's quick insight into character.

     "And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece; but when
     my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world I
     adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my daughter. She
     is a sunbeam in my house--sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful
     manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a
     woman could be. She is my right hand. I do not know what I could do
     without her. In only one matter has she ever gone against my wishes.
     Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly,
     but each time she has refused him. I think that if anyone could have
     drawn him into the right path it would have been she, and that his
     marriage might have changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too
     late--forever too late!

     "Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I
     shall continue with my miserable story.

     "When we were taking coffee in the drawing-room that night after
     dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious
     treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name of my
     client. Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am sure,
     left the room; but I cannot swear that the door was closed. Mary and
     Arthur were much interested and wished to see the famous coronet, but
     I thought it better not to disturb it.

     "'Where have you put it?' asked Arthur.

     "'In my own bureau.'

     "'Well, I hope to goodness the house won't be burgled during the
     night.' said he.

     "'It is locked up,' I answered.

     "'Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I have
     opened it myself with the key of the box-room cupboard.'

     "He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thought little of what
     he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with a very
     grave face.

     "'Look here, dad,' said he with his eyes cast down, 'can you let me
     have £200?'

     "'No, I cannot!' I answered sharply. 'I have been far too generous
     with you in money matters.'

     "'You have been very kind,' said he, 'but I must have this money, or
     else I can never show my face inside the club again.'

     "'And a very good thing, too!' I cried.

     "'Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man,' said
     he. 'I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money in some
     way, and if you will not let me have it, then I must try other
     means.'

     "I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the month.
     'You shall not have a farthing from me,' I cried, on which he bowed
     and left the room without another word.

     "When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my treasure
     was safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go round the house
     to see that all was secure--a duty which I usually leave to Mary but
     which I thought it well to perform myself that night. As I came down
     the stairs I saw Mary herself at the side window of the hall, which
     she closed and fastened as I approached.

     "'Tell me, dad,' said she, looking, I thought, a little disturbed,
     'did you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out to-night?'

     "'Certainly not.'

     "'She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she has
     only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that it is
     hardly safe and should be stopped.'

     "'You must speak to her in the morning, or I will if you prefer it.
     Are you sure that everything is fastened?'

     "'Quite sure, dad.'

     "'Then, good-night.' I kissed her and went up to my bedroom again,
     where I was soon asleep.

     "I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may have
     any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question me upon
     any point which I do not make clear."

     "On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid."

     "I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be
     particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety in my
     mind tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than usual. About two
     in the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in the house. It
     had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an impression behind
     it as though a window had gently closed somewhere. I lay listening
     with all my ears. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a distinct sound
     of footsteps moving softly in the next room. I slipped out of bed,
     all palpitating with fear, and peeped round the corner of my
     dressing-room door.

     "'Arthur!' I screamed, 'you villain! you thief! How dare you touch
     that coronet?'

     "The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, dressed
     only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the light,
     holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be wrenching at it,
     or bending it with all his strength. At my cry he dropped it from his
     grasp and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it.
     One of the gold corners, with three of the beryls in it, was missing.

     "'You blackguard!' I shouted, beside myself with rage. 'You have
     destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels
     which you have stolen?'

     "'Stolen!' he cried.

     "'Yes, thief!' I roared, shaking him by the shoulder.

     "'There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,' said he.

     "'There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I call
     you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off
     another piece?'

     "'You have called me names enough,' said he, 'I will not stand it any
     longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you
     have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and
     make my own way in the world.'

     "'You shall leave it in the hands of the police!' I cried half-mad
     with grief and rage. 'I shall have this matter probed to the bottom.'

     "'You shall learn nothing from me,' said he with a passion such as I
     should not have thought was in his nature. 'If you choose to call the
     police, let the police find what they can.'

     "By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my voice in
     my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, at the sight
     of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the whole story and,
     with a scream, fell down senseless on the ground. I sent the
     house-maid for the police and put the investigation into their hands
     at once. When the inspector and a constable entered the house,
     Arthur, who had stood sullenly with his arms folded, asked me whether
     it was my intention to charge him with theft. I answered that it had
     ceased to be a private matter, but had become a public one, since the
     ruined coronet was national property. I was determined that the law
     should have its way in everything.

     "'At least,' said he, 'you will not have me arrested at once. It
     would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house
     for five minutes.'

     "'That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you
     have stolen,' said I. And then, realising the dreadful position in
     which I was placed, I implored him to remember that not only my
     honour but that of one who was far greater than I was at stake; and
     that he threatened to raise a scandal which would convulse the
     nation. He might avert it all if he would but tell me what he had
     done with the three missing stones.

     "'You may as well face the matter,' said I; 'you have been caught in
     the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. If you
     but make such reparation as is in your power, by telling us where the
     beryls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.'

     "'Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,' he answered,
     turning away from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened for
     any words of mine to influence him. There was but one way for it. I
     called in the inspector and gave him into custody. A search was made
     at once not only of his person but of his room and of every portion
     of the house where he could possibly have concealed the gems; but no
     trace of them could be found, nor would the wretched boy open his
     mouth for all our persuasions and our threats. This morning he was
     removed to a cell, and I, after going through all the police
     formalities, have hurried round to you to implore you to use your
     skill in unravelling the matter. The police have openly confessed
     that they can at present make nothing of it. You may go to any
     expense which you think necessary. I have already offered a reward of
     £1000. 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 a 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."

     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 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
     sweetheart, 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 remember, the
     sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could at
     once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguish 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 disgraceful 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--£1000 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 scandal," 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 apologise 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."

