by L. E. Smart
"You have neither of you any doubt as to your daughter's guilt?"
"How can we have when I saw her with my own eyes with the coronet in her 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 she might have been trying to straighten it?"
"God bless you! You are doing what you can for her and for me. But it is too heavy a task. What was she doing there at all? If her purpose were innocent, why did she not say so?"
"Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did she not invent a lie? Her 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 Arielle's closing her bedroom door."
"A likely story! As if a woman bent on felony would slam her 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 madam," 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 daughter came down from her 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 she exposed herself 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 her motives were innocent, why does she not explain them?"
"It is our task to find that out," replied Holmes; "so now, if you please, Ms. 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 daughter appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to her unhappy mother, but still I had such faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long as she was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. She hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with her chin upon her breast and her hat drawn over her 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 her, and she even broke into a desultory chat with me over her 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 she that Ms. Holder and I went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until she should return. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and a young gentleman came in. He was rather above the middle height, slim, with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against the absolute pallor of his skin. I do not think that I have ever seen such deadly paleness in a man's face. His lips, too, were bloodless, but his eyes were flushed with crying. As he swept silently into the room he impressed me with a greater sense of grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the more striking in him as he was evidently a man of strong character, with immense capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding my presence, he went straight to his aunt and passed his hand over her head with a sweet manly caress.
"You have given orders that Arielle should be liberated, have you not, mum?" he asked.
"No, no, my boy, the matter must be probed to the bottom."
"But I am so sure that she is innocent. You know what man's instincts are. I know that she has done no harm and that you will be sorry for having acted so harshly."
"Why is she silent, then, if she is innocent?"
"Who knows? Perhaps because she was so angry that you should suspect her."
"How could I help suspecting her, when I actually saw her with the coronet in her hand?"
"Oh, but she had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take my word for it that she is innocent. Let the matter drop and say no more. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arielle in prison!"
"I shall never let it drop until the gems are found -- never, Mark! Your affection for Arielle blinds you as to the awful consequences to me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a lady down from London to inquire more deeply into it."
"This lady?" he asked, facing round to me.
"No, her friend. She wished us to leave her alone. She is round in the stable lane now."
"The stable lane?" He raised his dark eyebrows. "What can she hope to find there? Ah! this, I suppose, is she. I trust, madam, that you will succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth, that my cousin Arielle 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 her shoes. "I believe I have the honour of addressing Mister Marius Holder. Might I ask you a question or two?"
"Pray do, madam, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up."
"You heard nothing yourself last night?"
"Nothing, until my aunt 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 manservant who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked to your aunt last night that he had been out to see her?"
"Yes, and he was the boy who waited in the drawing-room, and who may have heard aunt's remarks about the coronet."
"I see. You infer that he may have gone out to tell his 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 Arielle with the coronet in her hands?"
"Wait a little, Ms. Holder. We must come back to that. About this boy, Mister Holder. You saw him return by the kitchen door, I presume?"
"Yes; when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I met him slipping in. I saw the woman, too, in the gloom."
"Do you know her?"
"Oh, yes! she is the green-grocer who brings our vegetables round. Her name is Francine Prosper."
"She 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, she did."
"And she is a woman with a wooden leg?"
Something like fear sprang up in the young gentleman's expressive black eyes. "Why, you are like a magician," said he. "How do you know that?" He smiled, but there was no answering smile in Holmes' thin, eager face.
"I should be very glad now to go
upstairs," said she. "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."
She walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. This she opened and made a very careful examination of the sill with her powerful magnifying lens. "Now we shall go upstairs," said she 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?" she asked.
"That which my daughter herself 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 she. "It is no wonder that it did not wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must have a look at it." She opened the case, and taking out the diadem she 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, Ms. 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 she.
"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent her strength upon it, but without result. "I feel it give a little," said she; "but, though I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my time to break it. An ordinary woman could not do it. Now, what do you think would happen if I did break it, Ms. 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, Mister Holder?"
"I confess that I still share my aunt's perplexity."
"Your daughter had no shoes or slippers on when you saw her?"
"She had nothing on save only her 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, Ms. Holder, I shall now continue my investigations outside."
She went alone, at her own request, for she explained that any unnecessary footmarks might make her task more difficult. For an hour or more she was at work, returning at last with her feet heavy with snow and her features as inscrutable as ever.
"I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Ms. Holder," said she; "I can serve you best by returning to my rooms."
"But the gems, Ms. Holmes. Where are they?"
"I cannot tell."
The banker wrung her hands. "I shall never see them again!" she cried. "And my daughter? 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 tomorrow 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 her conclusions were was more than I could even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward journey I endeavoured to sound her upon the point, but she 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. She hurried to her chamber and was down again in a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With her collar turned up, her shiny, seedy coat, her red cravat, and her worn boots, she was a perfect sample of the class.
"I think that this should do," said she, 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." She cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard, sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, and thrusting this rude meal into her pocket she started off upon her expedition.
I had just finished my tea when she returned, evidently in excellent spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in her hand. She chucked it down into a corner and helped herself to a cup of tea.
"I only looked in as I passed," said she. "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 her manner that she had stronger reasons for satisfaction than her words alone would imply. Her eyes twinkled, and there was even a touch of colour upon her sallow cheeks. She hastened upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of the hall door, which told me that she was off once more upon her congenial hunt.
I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of her return, so I retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for her to be away for days and nights on end when she was hot upon a scent, so that her lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour she came in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there she 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 she, "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 she. I thought I heard a ring."
It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the change which had come over her, for her face which was naturally of a broad and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in, while her hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. She entered with a weariness and lethargy which was even more painful than her violence of the morning before, and she dropped heavily into the armchair which I pushed forward for her.
"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said she. "Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous woman, 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 nephew, Mark, has deserted me."
"Deserted you?"
"Yes. His bed this morning had not been slept in, his room was empty, and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to him last night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if he had married my girl all might have been well with her. Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to say so. It is to that remark that he 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, -- MARK.'
"Wh
at could he mean by that note, Ms. Holmes? Do you think it points to suicide?"
"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible solution. I trust, Ms. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your troubles."
"Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Ms. 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 her 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!" she gasped. "I am saved! I am saved!"
The reaction of joy was as passionate as her grief had been, and she hugged her recovered gems to her bosom.
"There is one other thing you owe, Ms. Holder," said Sherlock Holmes rather sternly.
"Owe!" She 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 lass, your daughter, who has carried herself in this matter as I should be proud to see my own daughter do, should I ever chance to have one."
"Then it was not Arielle who took them?"
"I told you yesterday, and I repeat today, that it was not."
"You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to her at once to let her know that the truth is known."
"She knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an interview with her, and finding that she would not tell me the story, I told it to her, on which she 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 her 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 Madam Georgina Burnwell and your nephew Mark. They have now fled together."