HOLMES: If I may put it in a nutshell, Mr. Merton, I should say it is all up.
MERTON (to the COLONEL): Is this cove tryin’ to be funny — or what? I’m not in the funny mood myself.
HOLMES: You’ll feel even less humourous as the evening advances, I think I can promise you that. Now, look here, Colonel. I’m a busy man and I can’t waste time. I’m going into the bedroom. Pray make yourselves entirely at home in my absence. You can explain to your friend how the matter lies. I shall try over the Barcarolle upon my violin. (Looks at watch.) In five minutes I shall return for your final answer. You quite grasp the alternative, don’t you? Shall we take you, or shall we have the stone?
(HOLMES goes into his bedroom, taking his violin with him.)
MERTON: What’s that? He knows about the stone!
COLONEL: Yes, he knows a dashed sight too much about it. I’m not sure that he doesn’t know all about it.
MERTON: Good Lord!
COLONEL: Ikey Cohen has split.
MERTON: He has, has he? I’ll do him down a thick ‘un for that.
COLONEL: But that won’t help us. We’ve got to make up our minds what to do.
MERTON: Half a mo’. He’s not listening, is he? (Approaches bedroom door.) No, it’s shut. Look to me as if it was locked.
(Music begins.)
Ah! there he is, safe enough. (Goes to curtain.) Here, I say! (Draws it back, disclosing the figure.) Here’s that cove again, blast him!
COLONEL: Tut! it’s a dummy. Never mind it.
MERTON: A fake, is it? (Examines it, and turns the head) By Gosh, I wish I could twist his own as easy. Well, strike me! Madame Tussaud ain’t in it!
(As MERTON returns towards the COLONEL, the lights suddenly go out, and the red “DON’T TOUCH” signal goes up. After a few seconds the lights readjust themselves. Figures must transpose at that moment.)
Well, dash my buttons! Look ‘ere, Guv’nor, this is gettin’ on ny nerves. Is it unsweetened gin, or what?
COLONEL: Tut! it is some childish hanky-panky of this fellow Holmes, a spring or an alarm or something. Look here, there’s no time to lose. He can lag us for the diamond.
MERTON: The hell he can!
COLONEL: But he’ll let us slip if we only tell him where the stone is.
MERTON: What, give up the swag! Give up a hundred thousand!
COLONEL: It’s one or the other.
MERTON: No way out? You’ve got the brains, Guv’nor. Surely you can think a way out of it.
COLONEL: Wait a bit! I’ve fooled better men than he. Here’s the stone in my secret pocket. It can be out of England tonight, cut into four pieces in Amsterdam before Saturday. He knows nothing of Van Seddor.
MERTON: I thought Van Seddor was to wait till next week.
COLONEL: Yes, he was. But now he must get the next boat. One or other of us must slip round with the stone to the “Excelsior” and tell him.
MERTON: But the false bottom ain’t in the hat-box yet!
COLONEL: Well, he must take it as it is and chance it. There’s not a moment to lose. As to Holmes, we can fool him enough. You see, he won’t arrest us if he thinks he can get the stone. We’ll put him on the wrong track about it, and before he finds it is the wrong track, the stone will be in Amsterdam, and we out of the country.
MERTON: That’s prime.
COLONEL: You go off now, and tell Van Seddor to get a move on him. I’ll see this sucker and fill him up with a bogus confession. The stone’s in Liverpool — that’s what I’ll tell him. By the time he finds it isn’t, there won’t be much of it left, and we’ll be on blue water. (He looks carefully round him, then draws a small leather box from his pocket, and holds it out.) Here is the Crown Diamond.
HOLMES (taking it, as he rises from his chair): I thank you.
COLONEL (staggering back): Curse you, Holmes! (Puts hand in pocket.)
MERTON: To hell with him!
HOLMES: No violence, gentlemen; no violence, I beg of you. It must be very clear to you that your position is an impossible one. The police are waiting below.
COLONEL: You — you devil! How did you get there?
HOLMES: The device is obvious but effective; lights off for a moment and the rest is common sense. It gave me a chance of listening to your racy conversation which would have been painfully constrained by a knowledge of my presence. No, Colonel, no. I am covering you with a .450 Derringer through the pocket of my dressing-gown. (Rings bell.)
(Enter BILLY.)
Send them up, Billy.
(BILLY goes out.)
COLONEL: Well, you’ve got us, damn you!
MERTON: A fair cop … But I say, what about that bloomin’ fiddle?
HOLMES: Ah, yes, these modern gramophones! Wonderful invention. Wonderful!
CURTAIN
THE JOURNEY
A well in an arid, rocky spot. At the back a winding path. Beyond a rugged mountain, the summit of which is draped in clouds. Round the well sit the Faith family, who are the hereditary guides upon the journey. Beside them sits an iridescent, evasive creature who is Inspiration. A little apart sits Reason, a stern greybeard. Aloof from them all sits Science, working with a battery and some wires. The Faith family are clad in various garbs, all with a suspicion of sacerdotalism, either Mahometan, Buddhist, or Christian.
Faith I. What a blessing it is that we are appointed guides upon the journey ! What would the poor people do without us !
All. Ah, what would they do without us !
Faith 1. They would never reach the City Beautiful at all. They would all wander off upon the way.
Faith 2. They would die in the great salt marsh of Sin.
Faith 3. Or be starved in the Jungle of Disbelief, or fall over the Precipice of Schism.
Faith 4. Well, it depends upon what you call Schism.
Faith 1. Hush ! we need not go into that. Perhaps we had best agree to drop the subject as it has led to so much trouble in the past. We all know in our own hearts what we mean by Schism.
All. [Glaring at each other] Yes, we know that.
Faith 2. Allow me to tell you what Schism is —
Faith 1. No, no, let us change the subject ! The road is very quiet to-day. We have not had many to guide.
Faith 2. So many guide themselves these days and don’t want any help from us.
Faith 3. Poor creatures ! I wonder what befalls them.
Faith 1. And so many never know that they are on a journey at all, and simply wander downwards or round and round the mountain instead of trying to get to the city at the top.
Faith 2. Deplorable ! Deplorable ! We can but go among them and point them upwards.
Faith 3. This is an important camping ground. I thought of erecting a sign-post, so that if I should not be there it would point the way.
All. Admirable ! Splendid ! Let us have a signpost.
Faith 3. See [produces a crossed stick], I have actually made one. [Rises] I will put it on the rock there so that it may point due east.
Faith 2. But that is the wrong way.
Faith 1. Of course it is.
Faith 3. It is the right way.
Others. No, no ! Wrong ! Wrong !
Faith 1. Why, if he went that way he would be up to his neck in the quagmire of Superstition and never win his way through.
Faith 3. You are talking nonsense. How would you go ?
Faith 1. That way! [pointing].
Faith 2. No, that way ! [pointing].
Faith 3. And both of them right over the edge of the Precipice of Schism and down into the Valley of Damnation.
Faith 1. Keep a civil tongue, if you please.
Faith 3. I will testify to what I know to be truth.
Faith 2. Bigoted, obstinate ass ! How do you know that it is truth ?
Faith 3. Because I was told long ago by Inspiration. You told me, Inspiration ?
Inspir. Yes, I told you. Quite right. I told you.
Faith 3. You hear her. She told me. I have never allowed myself to ques
tion it. The way is really quite straight. What you imagine to be the quagmire of Superstition is really the pleasant Valley of Tradition. You can’t go wrong, for you can guide yourself by the church steeple, which can always be seen. Somewhere on the hills beyond lies the City.
Faith 4. By Allah, I could smite you with this staff when I hear such talk. You would surely lead the poor wayfarers to Gehenna. A great guide of old named Mahomet showed me the way, and as I learned it, so I teach it.
Faith 2. But who showed it to him ?
Faith 4. Surely it was Inspiration.
Inspir. Yes, yes, I showed it to him. It is right as I showed it.
Faith 4. You go eastwards, it is true, but you take your bearings from a town named Mecca, and pass over the plain of Pious Observance, until at last the minarets of the great City rise before you.
Faith 1. No, no, my good friend. You’re very earnest, I admit, but I wouldn’t trust your guide, and I think our mutual friend Inspiration was less happy than usual if she ever suggested such a route.
Faith 2. Well, how do you direct the travellers ?
Faith 1. Well, I start them from the beginning at the gate of the Baptistry. There the path is clear enough, and I see that every one of them has a book which will tell them the right way if they are in doubt.
Faith 4. But who wrote the book ?
Faith 1. It was Inspiration who wrote it. You did, did you not ?
Inspir. Oh yes, the book is mine.
Faith 4. And my guide book. You wrote that ?
Inspir. Certainly. I wrote that also.
Reason. [Stepping forward.] Might I be permitted to say a word or two ?
Faith 1. Certainly not.
Faith 2. It’s that old bore Reason.
Faith 3. We don’t know the fellow.
Faith 4. I can hardly keep my hands off him.
Reason. It’s true that you and I parted company many, many centuries ago. I don’t think we were ever very friendly, so far as I can remember.
Faith 1. I should hope not indeed.
Faith 2. We have nothing to do with you.
Faith 3. You are getting much too forward nowadays.
Faith 4. The sharp edge of a sword is what my ancestors gave you.
Faith 1. Indeed ! We used always to burn the fellow.
Faith 2. We merely ignore his existence. We look on him as bad form.
Reason. Still, whether you burn me or ignore me, I am still there, you know. You can’t really get away from me. Now do please answer a question or two, will you ?
Faith 1. No flippancy — nothing offensive !
Reason. Certainly not. I have, I assure you, every respect for you — that is to say for your motives, though not for your proceedings.
Faith 2. Pray, what do you mean by that ?
Reason. I mean that you all are very earnest and have the best intentions.
Faith 3. [Sardonically] We thank you most humbly.
Reason. You only need my co-operation to be most valuable.
Faith 4. Rascally infidel !
Faith 1. What characteristic modesty !
Faith 2. You were always a detestable prig.
Faith 3. And how, pray, could you improve us ?
Reason. I would bid you beware of this hussy In spiration. Can’t you see that she is fooling you ? Is it not clear that she has given you half a dozen contradictory directions, and that they can’t all be the right one ?
Inspir. Blasphemy ! Blasphemy ! Burn the rascal!
Faith 1. One is the right one. The others are delusions.
Reason. Then which is the right one ?
All. Mine.
Reason. You see ! Each of you believes that his comrades have been deceived. Don’t you think it more likely that you have all been deceived.
Inspir. Oh, villainy ! Blasphemy ! I knew that you put that rack away too soon. Has no one got a pincers about him ?
Faith 1. If it were not for us, who would guide the travellers ?
Reason. But you all guide them in different directions, and spend most of your time abusing each other.
Faith 2. At least we all point them upwards.
Reason. Exactly. You all point them upwards. There is your merit. But I would point them upwards also, without pretending that only one path can lead to the City. All upward paths will take you equally to the high places. Inspiration has been no help to you. She has only set you all by the ears.
Inspir. Atrocious ! Horrible ! What are we coming to ? Don’t wait here or he will contaminate you. Away ! Away ! The fellow is dangerous.
Faith 1. Come on, my friends. This is most un-edifying talk.
Faith 2. The fellow always gives me a headache.
Faith 3. We should be simple travellers like the rest if he had his way.
Faith 4. And Mecca like any other town. May Allah confound you and guide you down the Valley of Gehenna.
[Exeunt.
[All this time Science has been absorbed in his work.]
Reason. Hullo, Science! [No answer.] Hullo, old Science ! [No answer.] Bless the fellow, he is always absorbed in his own dreams. [Goes across and touches hint.]
Science. Get away ! Don’t interrupt me !
Reason. You are a grumpy fellow.
Science. Oh, it’s you, Reason. I don’t mind you. I look on you as a friend. I thought it was one of those
Faith people, for I heard them all chattering behind me.
Reason. What did you think of what they said ?
Science. I am far too busy to think of what they say.
Reason. But I thought that you and they were getting much more friendly. Some of the travellers told me so of late.
Science. Well, I don’t know. We should get along very well if it were not for that hussy Inspiration.
Reason. You don’t seem to love her any more than I do.
Science. She raises a scream against everything I do. She accuses me of contradicting her. Such a touchy person, she is. Then they all take her side. I am cold-shouldered by them all. But the fact is, my dear Reason, I am so useful to them all that they can’t get on without me. The travellers all say, whatever difference there may be about our path, it is certainly made very much more convenient and comfortable by this hard-working old fellow. I don’t give them promises only. They actually see and feel what I do When old Faith tries to read his guide book in the dark, it is I who give him his electric torch. When his eyes give way — and they are all getting a bit senile, you know — it is I who correct them with glasses. So they don’t pay too much attention to the cries of Inspiration, and they actually admit that they mistook her meaning and that there is no real difference of opinion.
Reason. That’s better than being burned at the stake. In old Giordano Bruno’s time you and I used to blaze together. We are getting a little of our own back now. What are you working at ?
Science. I was plotting out a power station to light the travellers in the dark places of the path.
Reason. And where do you think the path leads to ?
Science. Oh, I know nothing of such matters.
Reason. Well, you at least know that you exist.
Science. Nothing of the sort. I may be altogether subjective. I may be somebody’s dream.
Reason. Oh, come, come! Cheer up ! Is there nothing solid you can get hold of ?
Science. Nothing reliable. I used to work things down to the atom. Now it is the electron. I suspect it will end in the ether. There is no finality.
Reason. But a purposeful force behind it all ?
Science. Pure impersonal laws.
Reason. Which made themselves ?
Science. Exactly.
Reason. Ah, there you and I must agree to differ.
Science. When you differ from me, you cease to be yourself.
Reason. The older you grow, the more dogmatic you get. You know, you old rascal, if you got the upper hand, you are capable of burning a few people on your own account.
Science. Don’t be funny ! I am tryin
g to work.
Reason. But you are an honest and useful old chap. A little limited and a bit inhuman — that’s all. You should marry Imagination.
Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) Page 951