Chapter 10 Abbas Ruby

As I was looking through my notes, I saw that on the night of November 10, 1886, the first snowstorm of that winter fell.The day was gloomy and cold, and the biting wind whimpered outside the window.As dusk turned to night, the street lamps glowing faintly on dim Baker Street illuminated the first snowfall and the saplings that were blown by the wind and swirled here and there along the empty, reflective sidewalks. My friend Holmes and I had only been returning from Dartmoor three weeks after the conclusion of a curious case (details of which I have recounted elsewhere under the title "The Hound of the Baskervilles").Since then, although my friend has been called upon to investigate several cases, none of them have appealed to his taste for the uncanny, nor have they induced him to engage in that wonderful logical analysis and reasoning, which he has had only in This kind of reasoning is only used when encountering intricacies.

Flames danced merrily in the fireplace.I sat back in my chair and looked around our messy but comfortable living room.I have to admit that the nighttime snowstorm and the sleet thumping on the window panes just added to my sense of satisfaction.On the other side of the fireplace, Sherlock Holmes was curled up in his armchair, slowly turning the pages of a black index book marked B.He had just made some entries in this book under the title "Baskervilles," and was now glancing at the names and contents of the pages, laughing to himself, and sometimes exclaiming.I flung aside the Lancet medical journal, trying to entice my friend to talk about a case or two I was not familiar with, when I heard the faint ringing of the doorbell amidst the whimpering wind.

"Your guest is here," I said. "It must be a client, Watson," replied Holmes, putting the index-book aside. It foreshadows..." His words were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs.The door flung open, and the guest staggered in. He was a squat man in a soaked raincloak, a bowler hat, and a woolen scarf tied in a knot under the chin.Holmes tilted the shade of the lamp so that the light fell on the door.The visitor stood still for a moment, watching us from the door.His soaked clothes dripped onto the carpet in dark water spots.His round figure, with his fat face wrapped in a scarf, looked a little comical; but the look of helplessness in his brown eyes, the trembling hands as he undid the bow on his chin, was a little bit funny. The thought disappears.

"Take off your coat, and come to the fire," said Holmes kindly. He began: "Gentlemen, I should really apologize for intruding so unreasonably. But I'm afraid there have been circumstances which threaten...threats..." "Watson, hurry up!" But it was too late.The guest groaned and fell unconscious on the carpet with a thud. I grabbed the brandy bottle from the cupboard and ran up to pour it into his mouth.Holmes took off his guest's shawl, and looked over my shoulder. He said: "What do you think, Watson?" "Severe shock," I replied. "On the surface, he appears to be a comfortable and respectable grocer. When he wakes up, we shall of course learn a little more about him."

"Tsk! I think we can take another random guess," said my friend thoughtfully. "A rich man's housekeeper comes in at such a time in the wind and snow, and faints on the carpet, as I deduce." , something more important than the prying of the money drawer must have happened." "Holmes!" "I'll bet a guinea that he's got a uniform under his overcoat. Ah, you're right!" "Although this is the case, I still don't understand how you guessed it? And how do you know that he is the housekeeper of a rich family?" Sherlock Holmes took the guest's limp hands and said: "You can see that the belly of both thumbs is black, Watson. People who often sit and work can only have one kind of work to make thumbs." Such an even color change. That’s sanding silver with the thumbs of both hands.”

I raised an objection and said, "Isn't leather usually used?" "Ordinary silverware is polished with leather, but exquisite silverware is polished with your thumb. I infer that he is from a wealthy family. That is the basis. As for the reason why he left home in a hurry, although today from six o'clock It began to snow, but he came out in pumps. Ah, do you feel better now?" When the guest opened his eyes, Holmes said kindly, "Dr. This chair. After you rest for a while, you can of course tell us about your embarrassment." "Take a break!" he said anxiously, patting his head with his hands. "My God! Sir, they must be after me."

"Who is chasing you?" "The police, Sir John, they're all on the run! The Abbas ruby ​​has been stolen!" he almost screamed.My friend leaned forward and put his long, thin fingers on each other's wrists.As I mentioned before, Holmes has an almost hypnotic charm, which can calm down and comfort the unfortunate.This time too, the eagerness and panic of the guest gradually disappeared. "Come, tell me the story," said Holmes after a while. "My name is Andrew Jolliffe," said his visitor, beginning to collect himself, "and I have been butler of Sir John Doverton's house in Manchester Square for two years."

"Is it Sir John Doverton the horticulturist?" "Yes, sir. Indeed, it has been said that the flowers he kept, especially the red camellias, meant more to Sir John than the Abbas rubies and other family treasures. You know the rubies, I suppose, gentlemen?" "I know there is such a thing, but I ask you to tell me about it in your own words." "Oh, just to look at this ruby ​​would startle me. It's like a big drop of blood, with a little mark like a will-o'-the-wisp in the center. I only saw it once in two years, because Sir John locked it up. In the safe in his bedroom, it seemed like it could kill, and it couldn't even be seen in the light of day. However, I saw it for the second time tonight. Just had dinner, and there was a Master Captain Mann, who advised Sir John to show the Abbas Ruby..."

"Please state their names," interposed Holmes slowly. "Names, sir? Oh, you mean the names of the guests. Well, there's Captain Masterman, the lady's brother; there's Lord and Lady Blackminster; Lady Dunbar; and William Ladd. Mrs Fowler and Mrs Fitzsimmons Lemming." Sherlock Holmes scribbled something hastily on the cuff.He said, "Please continue." "I was serving coffee in the library when the Captain made that suggestion. All the ladies present were clamoring to see the ruby. Sir John said: 'I'd rather show you the red camellias in the conservatory.' The one my wife put in her gown is a sample, and it is sure to be more beautiful than the gems in the jewel-box, as you will see for yourself in a moment.'

"'Let us draw our own conclusions, then,' said Mrs. Dunbar, laughing. Sir John went upstairs to get the jewel case, and everyone gathered around to watch him open it. At this point, Mrs. Dunbar told me to fetch the jewel case. The lamp was lit, saying that they were going to see the red camellia soon. However, I found that there was no red camellia in the greenhouse.” "I do not understand." "The red camellia is gone, sir! All gone," cried the visitor in a hoarse voice. "When I entered the conservatory, I couldn't help standing there with the lamp over my head, wondering if I had gone mad. Those famous It is true that the bushes are still there, but there is not even a single petal left of the dozens of large flowers I have admired this afternoon."

Sherlock Holmes stretched out a long arm for his cigarette. "Ah! ah!" said he, "that's very pleasing. You've got a very interesting talk, please go on." "I ran back to the library and told them about it. 'It's impossible!' cried the madam. 'Just before supper, I plucked a flower and stuck it in my dress and saw the flowers. ' said Sir John: 'He must have been drunk.' He put the jewel case in the table drawer, and ran to the conservatory; the others followed him there. But the camellias were indeed gone." "Wait a minute," interposed Holmes, "when was the last time you saw them?" "I saw it at four o'clock, and the lady picked one shortly before supper, which means they were still there about eight o'clock. But the flowers are nothing, Holmes; it is the ruby ​​that counts!" "what!" The guest sits in a chair and leans forward. "The library was only empty for a few minutes," he continued in a low voice, "but when Sir John, maddened by the loss of the flowers, returned to open the drawer, the Abbas ruby ​​and the jewel-box It's gone, like the red camellia." For a little while we all sat there in silence, broken only by the sound of embers falling on the grate. "Jolliff," said Holmes thoughtfully. "Andrew Jolliffe. Participated in the Ketterton diamond heist, didn't he?" The guest covered his face with his hands. "I'm glad you know that, sir," he murmured at last, "but, God be my witness, I've been on the right track since I got out of prison three years ago. Captain Masterman treated me Great, got me this job with his brother in law. I have never dismantled him since then and now. I am content with the salary and look forward to opening my own cigar shop one day .” "Go ahead." "Well, after I sent the stable boy to the police, I heard Captain Masterman's voice through the half-open library door as I entered the drawing room. He said: 'Damn it, John, I was trying to give One chance for the bastard, but now I blame myself for not telling you his past history. He must have slipped in here when everyone else was in the greenhouse...'I'm no longer The wait went on. I told Rogers the valet that if anyone wanted me, he could go to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then I came running through the snow. From the rumors I had heard in the past, I Believe it: it doesn't demean you to save a man who has paid his debts to society from injustice, does it? You are my only hope, sir. Oh, my God! Just know!" The door was pushed open at once.A tall, blond man with a snow-covered shawl wrapped up to his ears strode into the room. "Ah, Gregson, we're waiting for you." "Yes, Mr. Holmes," said Inspector Gregson dryly. "Well, this is the man we are looking for, and we must go together, then." Our poor client jumped up.He wailed, "But I'm innocent! I never touched it!" The officer smiled maliciously.He drew a flat box from his pocket, and dangled it under his prisoner's nose. "My God, isn't that the jewel box!" gasped Jolliff, startled. "See what he admits! Where did you find it, you say? Right where you hid it, man, under your mattress." Jolliff repeated dully, "But I never touched it." "Wait a moment, Gregson," interposed Holmes. "I think you have found the Abbas ruby, have you not?" "No," he answered. "The casket is empty. But the ruby ​​is almost at hand. Sir John has put a reward of five thousand pounds on its discovery." "Let me see the box, will you? Thank you. Why, such a shabby look. The lock isn't broken, but the hinge is broken. Flesh-coloured velvet. But, really..." Sherlock Holmes drew the magnifying glass from his pocket, placed the jewel case under the lamp, and examined it carefully.He concluded by saying, "That's interesting. By the way, Jolliff, is the ruby ​​set?" "It was set in a gilt locket, with a necklace. But, well, Mr. Holmes..." "Don't worry, I'll do my best. Well, Gregson, I won't keep you any longer." The Scotland Yard officer put a pair of handcuffs on the wrists of our unfortunate guest, and went out at once. up. For some time Holmes simply smoked thoughtfully.He drew his chair in front of the fireplace, propped his elbows on his knees, rested his chin on both hands, and stared at the fire in thought.The red firelight cast flickering shadows on his chiseled face. He suddenly asked: "Watson, have you heard of the 'No Match Club'?" "It's a very foreign name to me." I admit not knowing. "It's the premier gambling club in London," he went on, "and its secret printed membership list reads like a Who's Who of Debritt, in the style of a Gothic calendar. I've been watching it all the time." "Good heavens, Holmes, why?" "With wealth comes crime, Watson, and the criminal activities of mankind have been governed throughout history by this one fixed and unchanging principle." I asked: "However, what does this club have to do with the Abbas Rubies?" "Perhaps not, perhaps closely related. Please bring me the biographical index marked 'M' from the shelf above the pipe rack. Oh, how strange! So many notorious names in one letter. Wah Sir, it would be good to look at this list. Ah, here is probably what we are looking for. Marpins; Marston, prisoner; Masterman. The Honorable Captain Bruce Masterman, 1856 Born, educated to... huh! . . . Ha! Suspected of forgery in Helius Dearborn inheritance; secretary of the Peerless Club; participated in . . . ; exactly." My friend put The book was thrown on the bench. "Ah, Watson, are you interested in night-time excursions?" "Of course. But, Holmes, where are you going?" "It depends on the situation." The wind has subsided.The clock in the House Tower was striking ten when we reached the silent, snow-covered street.In spite of our close attire we were very cold, and I thought it a good way to warm myself up and walk, and we went as far as the Rue Marie-le-Bonne before we hired a hansom."There is no harm in taking a look at Manchester Square," said Holmes, as we wrapped up our blankets, and the carriage rattled through the snow-covered streets. The carriage reached its destination within a short distance."The guests have gone," said Holmes, pointing to the ground as we alighted in front of a high Georgian house. "You can see the tracks of the wheels from the rest of the snow, as you can see." The manservant who opened the door took our cards.After a while he led us across the living room into a beautiful library.Inside the library stood a tall, thin man with his back facing the blazing fireplace. His hair had begun to turn gray and his face was very melancholy.As we entered, a woman lying on a bench stood up and turned to look at us. Though Lady Doverton's beauty has been perpetuated by the brushes of our leading artists, I do not think that any portrait has quite expressed the pride and beauty of the woman we now behold.She was wearing a white satin gown, and a bright red flower was pinned to the wide waistcoat.The golden light of the candles fell on her pale, as if carved face, and made the jewels in her golden brown hair blaze.Her companion hurried up to meet us. "Really, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, thank you very much!" he cried. "You have braved the cold of the night to catch the culprit of this grave crime, which is very telling. Your philanthropy, sir! speaks volumes." Sherlock Holmes bowed. "The Abbasid ruby ​​is a well-known gem, Sir John." "Ah, Ruby, yes, yes, of course," replied Sir John Doverton, "what a pity. Fortunately, the buds were not destroyed. Your knowledge of flowers will tell you..." His wife put her hand on his arm and he stopped talking. "Now that the police have taken over the matter," she said haughtily, "I don't see why we bother Mr. Sherlock Holmes to condescend." My friend replied: "Mrs. Doverton, I shall take up very little of your time. A few minutes in the conservatory will suffice." "For what purpose, sir? What connection might there be between my husband's greenhouse and the lost treasure?" "That's exactly what I'm trying to figure out." Lady Doverton smiled indifferently. "Now, the police may have caught the burglar." "I don't think so." "Absurd! The man who got away was a convicted jewel thief. He obviously did it." "Perhaps it is overly obvious, ma'am. A former criminal, knowing your brother knows his past history, would steal a famous jewel from his employer and hide the jewel case in his Under the mattress...that's where the men from Scotland Yard are sure to search, and he's going to get himself convicted. Don't you think it's strange?" "I don't think about it that way," said Mrs. Doverton, laying her hands on her breast. "Of course it is. But, alas, what a beautiful flower! I suppose this is the red camellia you picked this afternoon?" "Tonight, sir, just before supper." "The last flower!" said Sir John sadly, "at least until the next bloom." "Exactly. I'd love to see your greenhouse." We were led along a short passage from the library to a conservatory.The famous horticulturist and I waited at the door, while Holmes made his rounds in the warm and suffocatingly dark room.The candle in his hand flickered like a great firefly among grotesque cacti and tropical bushes.He put the candle close to the camellia and looked at it with a magnifying glass for a long time. "The victim of the saboteur," sighed Sir John. "Not with a knife, but with a pair of small nail-scissors with curved beaks," said Holmes. "You can see that there is no slivers of the kind that a knife makes on the stalk, and that, moreover, the small The cut indicates that the tip of the scissors has protruded beyond the flower stalk. Well, I don't think I can find anything else here." As we turned back Holmes stopped at a window in the passage.He unhooked the window, lit a match, and leaned over the window to look out. Sir John volunteered, "This window looks down on a road frequented by the workmen." I looked over my friend's shoulder.Below, the snow piled up in a flat strip between the walls of the houses and a narrow path.Holmes said nothing, but when he turned back I noticed an expression of surprise and even chagrin. Lady Doverton was waiting for us in the library. "I'm afraid your reputation is overestimated, Mr. Holmes," she said, with a teasing gleam in her fine blue eyes. "I'm waiting for you to come back with the lost flowers and even the Abbas ruby!" "Such boasting is too dangerous, Mr. Holmes." "I'm not used to boasting, you'll be told. Dr. Watson and I are going to the Peerless Club, and we're somewhat late. . . . Oh, Mrs. Doverton, I'm afraid you've broken your fan—" I can only express my regret for breaking in here and wish you a good night." Our carriage had reached Oxford Street when Holmes, who had been sitting silently with his head bowed, suddenly jumped up. He raised the tailgate and shouted an order to the coachman. "Stupid!" he exclaimed, patting his forehead with his hand.At this time the carriage turned back the same way. "There shouldn't be such a mistake!" "what happened?" "Watson, whenever I show complacency, please whisper the word 'Camellia' in my ear." A few minutes later we alighted again in front of Sir John Doverton's house. "There is no need to alarm the family," said Holmes in a low, vague voice. "This is, I suppose, the door through which the workmen come and go." Holmes led the way, and walked swiftly along the path against the wall to a window.I recognized this window as the one in the passage.Then, he knelt on the ground and carefully pushed the snow away with his hands.After a while he straightened up and I saw he had cleared a large black spot. He laughed and said: "Let's take the risk of lighting a match, Watson." I lit a match, and right there on the black earth where Holmes had dug open a snowdrift, there lay a small heap of reddish-brown, frozen flowers. "Camellia!" I exclaimed. "My dear friend, what is the matter?" My friend stood up grimly. "Crime, Watson," he said. "Criminal, well-planned crime." He picked up a flower and stood silent for a moment gazing at the dull, withered petals in his palm.He said thoughtfully: "It's a good thing Andrew Jolliffe got to Baker Street before Gregson overtook him." I asked, "Do you want to call the Jazz family?" He said with a dry smile: "You are a man of haste, Watson. No, my dear friend, we had better slip back into the carriage and go to St. James's Street." In this eventful night, I have completely lost the sense of time.We drove from Piccadilly to St. James's Street, and stopped in front of a beautifully lit house.At this moment, I saw from the big clock in the Palace Square that it was almost midnight, and I couldn't help being very surprised. "All the other clubs have dispersed, and the No Match Club has come to life," said Holmes, ringing the doorbell.He scribbled something hastily on the card, handed it to the footman who opened the door, and led me into the living room. We followed the footman up a marble staircase, and I saw large and luxurious rooms, in which were small groups of people in evening dress, some sitting here and there reading newspapers, some gathered in rosewood wood. around the poker table. The servant who showed us knocked at a door, and in an instant we were in a small but comfortably furnished room hung with sports pictures and smelling strongly of cigar smoke.A tall man was sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace, making no attempt to get up, but twirling Holmes' card with his fingers, and looking at us with indifferent eyes.He looked like a soldier, with a short mustache and thick, blond-brown hair.His blue eyes reminded me involuntarily of Lady Doverton. "You have chosen a strange time for your visit, gentlemen. It is outrageous that it is so late," he said in a hostile voice. "And it's getting late. No, Captain Masterman, I don't have to sit. I'd rather stand." "Then stand still. What do you want?" Sherlock Holmes said quietly: "The Abbas Ruby." Startled, I gripped my cane tightly.For a split second, no one spoke.Masterman, sinking deep in his chair, looked up at Holmes; then, throwing up his head, he burst into a hearty laugh. "My dear sir, you must forgive me." At last, with a smile on his pretty face, he said, "Your request is a little too much. The Peerless Club does not allow escaped servants to be its members. You should look for Jolliff elsewhere." "I've spoken to Jolliff." "Ah, I see," he sneered contemptuously, "you represent the butler's interests?" "No, I represent the interests of justice," replied Holmes sternly. "Oh, what a majesty! Well, Mr. Holmes, you are lucky that I have no witnesses here, or the terms of your claim will embarrass you in court. I believe that the penalty for slander is a full five thousand." Guinea. The door is behind you, please go out." Sherlock Holmes strolled up to the fireplace, took out his pocket watch, and set the time with the clock on the fireplace. He said: "It is five past twelve, and you are allowed to return the jewel to Baker Street before nine o'clock in the morning." Masterman jumped up from his chair. "Damn it, you watch out..." he growled. "That won't work, Captain Masterman, really not. However, in order to make you understand that I'm not trying to frighten people, I'd like to list the main points that will enlighten you. You know Jolliff's past history, you give him Get a job at Sir John's so that he can be used as a scapegoat in the future." "Bring the evidence, you disgusting meddler!" "Then you needed money," continued Holmes calmly. "You needed a great deal of money, as may be judged from the value of the Abbas ruby. I have no doubt that it would be enough to find out how much you lost at cards." Know the exact amount. Just for this you conceived a conspiracy... It is a pity to add that you conceived a conspiracy with the help of your sister. The conspiracy was cunning and ruthless in its execution. "You learned from Lady Doverton exactly what happened to the jewel case in which the gems were kept, and had a copy made of it. The difficulty is that it is not easy to know when Sir John will take the gems out of the safe. . . . This is rarely done. Since there is an evening party and you are one of the invited guests, this provides you with an easy solution. You intend to rely on the full support of your wife to ask your brother-in-law to bring out the treasure But how to make sure that he and the others get out of the house when the treasure is there? I'm afraid it will depend on the careful planning of women here. The surest way is to exploit Sir John's pride in his famous camellias. It worked exactly as you expected. "When Jolliffe came back to report that the camellias had been chopped off and stolen, Sir John promptly put the jewel-case into the nearest container, and led his guests to the conservatory. You slipped back into the house, and pocketed the case. When the owner finds out that the gems have been stolen, you volunteer that his butler is a convicted jewel thief....which is entirely true. Yet, despite your ingenuity and daring, you commit the crime Two major mistakes. "First, you busted that imitation jewel case in a very amateurish way; then you put it under Jolliff's mattress, probably a few hours before it happened. The inside of the case is lined with Light-coloured velvet. When you wear this kind of inlaid jewelry, you will definitely leave traces of metal friction on the soft suede surface, but I can't find this trace with a magnifying glass. The second mistake was devastating.Your sister said she picked the flower pinned to her robe just before supper.If so, then the flowers should be in the greenhouse by eight o'clock.I asked myself: what if I wanted to dispose of a dozen flowers as quickly as possible?The answer is to use the nearest window, in this particular case the one on the passage. "However, there were no traces on the snowdrifts under the window. I confess that this puzzled me. However, as Dr. Watson can testify, I soon found out the definite answer. I hurried back to the house and started Carefully scraping the snowdrifts under the window, I found the lost camellias on the frozen earth. They were so light that they would not sink from the snow, so they must have been thrown there before the snow began to fall at six o'clock. There, it is clear, that Lady Doverton's account is fabricated. The answer to the whole question is to be found in those withered flowers." As Holmes unfolded the case, I watched Masterman's flushed face turn pale and hideous.When Holmes had finished speaking, he walked quickly to a table in the corner of the room, his eyes gleaming ominously. "I would rather not do that," said Holmes politely. Masterman stopped with his hand on the drawer. He asked gruffly, "What are you going to do?" "If you return the Abbasid ruby ​​to me before nine o'clock in the morning, I will not reveal it publicly; Sir John Doverton will no doubt, at my request, refrain from further investigation. I am protecting him Wife's reputation. Otherwise, you will try my best, Captain Masterman; for, considering your seduction of your sister and your wicked plot to frame the innocent, I can hardly think of a more vulgar and vulgar man than you. "But I'm going to make a fool of myself, damn you!" shouted Masterman, "what about gossip at the No Horses Club? I lost a card game, and I'm almost buried in debt. Yes. If I give up that ruby..." He paused, and cast a quick, secretive glance at us. "Attention, Holmes, how would I like a fair proposal?" My friend turned back and walked towards the door. He said coldly: "Until nine o'clock. Come, Watson." The porter whistled for a car for us.It was snowing again as we waited in St James's Street. Sherlock Holmes said: "My dear friend, I am afraid you are very tired?" "On the contrary. I'm always full of energy when I'm with you," I replied. "Well, it's time for you to rest for a few hours. This concludes our adventure for tonight." However, my friend spoke too soon.A hansom took us back very late.We were driving back to Baker Street, and I was opening the door with the front key when the headlights of a carriage speeding from the direction of the Marie-le-Born Road attracted our attention.It was a covered four-wheeled carriage, and it stopped a few yards from us.After a while, a heavily wrapped woman walked towards us quickly.Although her face was hidden by a heavy veil, something could be vaguely seen in her slender and graceful figure and the solemn posture of her head as she came across the snow-covered pavement and stood opposite us. something familiar. "Mr. Holmes, I want to speak to you," she said in a loud voice. My friend raised his eyebrows and said calmly: "Perhaps you have to go in and light the lamp first, Watson." During the years of my case with my friend Sherlock Holmes, I have seen many beautiful women come to our house; but I cannot recall a more beautiful one than this one... She came into us There was a deep rustling of her skirts in that mediocre living room. She lifted her veil, and the dim gaslight illuminated her perfect face and blue eyes with long lashes.She met Holmes's stern and uncompromising gaze and challenged him. "I didn't expect you to come so late, Lady Doverton," he said gravely. "I thought you knew everything, Mr. Holmes," she replied with sneering undertones. "But you may know very little about women." "I can't figure it out..." "Shall I remind you? You have boasted. Losing the Abbasid Ruby is a disaster. I have been anxious to know whether you have kept your promise. Come, sir, admit defeat." "On the contrary, I succeeded." Our guest stood up with a twinkle in his eyes. "It is a bad joke, Mr. Holmes," she said in a loud, contemptuous voice. I have elsewhere mentioned that my friend had always been respectful of women, notwithstanding his deep distrust of the opposite sex; yet now, in front of Lady Doverton, I saw him for the first time scowling at a woman. "Ma'am, it's tiring to put on airs at this late hour," he said. "I've been to the Peerless Club and patiently explained to your brother how he stole the Ruby of Abbas and what you've played... " "God!" "...and your role in it. I think you had to do that. I hope you won't make my thoughts fanciful." The beautiful, haughty woman stood for a moment facing Holmes in the light, then, with a low sigh, fell on her knees and clutched at his coat.Holmes hastily helped her to her feet. "Mrs. Doverton, you should kneel to your husband and not to me," he said calmly. "Really, there will be serious consequences for you." "I swear to you..." "Stop talking, I know it all. Nothing will come out of my mouth." "You mean, you won't tell him?" She gasped in panic. "I don't see any good in that. Of course, by morning Jolliff will be released and the Abbas Ruby case will be over." "Your mercy will be rewarded by God," she whispered sadly. "I will do my best to atone. But my unfortunate brother . . . he lost at cards . . . " "Ah, yes, Captain Masterman. I don't think you need to worry too much about this gentleman, Mrs. Doverton. Captain Masterman's bankruptcy and the resulting slander at the Horseless Club may prompt him to go. to take a new path, which would be much more honorable than the one he had hitherto taken. Indeed, Sir John could be persuaded to arrange for him to serve overseas, as soon as those slanders had died away. As far as I understand, with this The young man's drive and ability, there is no doubt that he will make a difference on the north-western frontier of India." Apparently I was much more tired than I expected from the events of the night, and I didn't wake up until about ten o'clock in the morning.When I entered the drawing-room, I saw that Sherlock Holmes had finished his breakfast.In his old red dressing gown, he was lounging in front of the fire with his feet stretched out over the edge.After breakfast he smoked the tobacco that was left in his pipe from the previous day, filling the room with the smell of smoke.I rang for Mrs. Hudson and ordered a pot of coffee and some thin slices of ham and eggs. "I'm glad you're early, Watson," he said, casting a cheerful glance at me from under his drooping eyelids. "Mrs. Hudson's knack for getting breakfast ready at any time is one of her greatest strengths," I answered. "Yes. But I don't mean your breakfast. I'm expecting Sir John Doverton." "In that case, Holmes, perhaps it would be better for me to avoid it, as it is a delicate matter." Sherlock Holmes waved me back to my seat. "My dear friend, I should like to have you there. Now, I think it is he who has come. A few minutes before the appointed time." There was a knock at the door, and the tall, somewhat stooped horticulturist entered the room. "You have news for me, Mr. Holmes," he cried impulsively. "Speak up, sir, speak up! I am all ears." "Yes, I have some news for you," replied Holmes, smiling. Sir John rushed forward. He began: "Then the camellias..." "Tut, tut. Maybe we'd be wise to forget about the camellias. I noticed a lot of buds on those bushes again." "Thank God, it's true," said the visitor sincerely. "I'm glad, because I feel that you value the wonderful and precious things in nature more than the treasures made by man. However, Abba The Ruby is still lost, how bad it is. Do you think there is any hope of getting that jewel back?" "Totally hopeful. But, before discussing the matter further, I invite you to join me for a glass of wine." Sir John raised his eyebrows in amazement, and said aloud: "At such a time, Mr. Holmes? To tell the truth, sir, I do not think--" "Well," said Holmes, smiling, as he poured out three full glasses at the sideboard, and handing one of them to his visitor, "it is a bit chilly this morning, and I suggest that we drink this rare and precious wine." Sir John frowned slightly in disapproval, and lifted his glass to his mouth.No one spoke for a while, and a sudden exclamation broke the silence.Our guest put a white linen handkerchief to his mouth, and his face was as white as the handkerchief.He spat out a flaming crystal from his mouth onto the handkerchief, and looked eagerly at Holmes, then at the crystal. He gasped in surprise, "Abbasi Ruby!" Sherlock Holmes burst into a hearty laugh, and clasped his hands together. He exclaimed: "Really, you must forgive me! My friend Dr. Watson can tell you that I have never been able to resist a somewhat theatrical approach. Perhaps it is the Vernet blood in my veins." It's playing tricks." Sir John Doverton gazed with amazement at the extraordinary jewel which gleamed against the white linen handkerchief. "God, I can hardly believe my eyes," he said tremulously, "but how the hell did you get it back?" "Ah, I beg you to forgive me on this point. Suffice it to say: Jolliff, your steward, was much wronged, and he was released this morning; this treasure is now safely returned to its rightful owner in your hand," said Holmes kindly, "and here is the locket and chain. I have taken the jewel off my own hands, in order to be able to play you with it in your glass of wine. I beg you Don't pursue this matter any further." "As you wish, Mr. Holmes," said Sir John earnestly, "I do have reasons to rely entirely on your judgment. But how should I express it..." "Well, I'm far from being a rich man. It's up to you to decide whether I'm entitled to your five thousand pounds reward." "You should be paid many times more than that!" cried Sir John Doverton, drawing a check from his pocket. "In addition, I will give you a red camellia cultivated by me." Holmes bowed solemnly. "I will entrust it to Watson, who will take good care of it," said he. "By the way, Sir John, I would like you to write me two checks, one payable to Sherlock Holmes for two thousand five thousand. One hundred pounds, and another bill of the same amount for Andrew Jolliffe. I'm afraid you, the former housekeeper, will be a little timid to manage housework in the future, and this money is more than enough to help him open a cigar shop, so that he can be satisfied His wish has been kept in his heart. Thank you, Your Excellency. Now, I think, we can break the prohibition against drinking in the morning... Just this time, drink a glass of wine, and celebrate a little bit the successful conclusion of the Abbas Ruby case Bar."