'That sounds good to me!' cried Sam Merton with a grin.
'You go on and tell the Dutchman to get a move on him. I'll see this sucker and fill him up with a bogus confession. I'll tell him that the stone is in Liverpool. Confound that whining music; it gets on my nerves! By the time he finds it isn't in Liverpool it will be in quarters and we on the blue water. Come back here, out of a line with that keyhole. Here is the stone.'
'I wonder you dare carry it.'
'Where could I have it safer? If we could take it out of Whitehall someone else could surely take it out of my lodgings.'
'Let's have a look at it.'
Count Sylvius cast a somewhat unflattering glance at his associate and disregarded the unwashed hand which was extended towards him.
'What — d'ye think I'm going to snatch it off you? See here, mister, I'm getting a bit tired of your ways.'
'Well, well, no offence, Sam. We can't afford to quarrel. Come over to the window if you want to see the beauty properly. Now hold it to the light! Here!'
'Thank you!'
With a single spring Holmes had leaped from the dummy's chair and had grasped the precious jewel. He held it now in one hand, while his other pointed a revolver at the Count's head. The two villains staggered back in utter amazement. Before they had recovered Holmes had pressed the electric bell.
'No violence, gentlemen — no violence, I beg of you! Consider the furniture! It must be very clear to you that your position is an impossible one. The police are waiting below.'
The Count's bewilderment overmastered his rage and fear.
'But how the deuce—?' he gasped.
'Your surprise is very natural. You are not aware that a second door from my bedroom leads behind that curtain. I fancied that you must have heard me when I displaced the figure, but luck was on my side. It gave me a chance of listening to your racy conversation which would have been painfully constrained had you been aware of my presence.'
The Count gave a gesture of resignation.
'We give you best, Holmes. I believe you are the devil himself.'
'Not far from him, at any rate,' Holmes answered with a polite smile.
Sam Merton's slow intellect had only gradually appreciated the situation. Now, as the sound of heavy steps came from the stairs outside, he broke silence at last.
'A fair cop!' said he. 'But, I say, what about that bloomin' fiddle! I hear it yet.'
'Tut, tut!' Holmes answered. 'You are perfectly right. Let it play! These modern gramophones are a remarkable invention.'
There was an inrush of police, the handcuffs clicked and the criminals were led to the waiting cab. Watson lingered with Holmes, congratulating him upon this fresh leaf added to his laurels. Once more their conversation was interrupted by the imperturbable Billy with his card-tray.
'Lord Cantlemere sir.'
'Show him up, Billy. This is the eminent peer who represents the very highest interests,' said Holmes. 'He is an excellent and loyal person, but rather of the old regime. Shall we make him unbend? Dare we venture upon a slight liberty? He knows, we may conjecture, nothing of what has occurred.'
The door opened to admit a thin, austere figure with a hatchet face and drooping mid-Victorian whiskers of a glossy blackness which hardly corresponded with the rounded shoulders and feeble gait. Holmes advanced affably, and shook an unresponsive hand.
'How do you do, Lord Cantlemere? It is chilly for the time of year, but rather warm indoors. May I take your overcoat?'
'No, I thank you; I will not take it off.'
Holmes laid his hand insistently upon the sleeve.
'Pray allow me! My friend Dr. Watson would assure you that these changes of temperature are most insidious.'
His Lordship shook himself free with some impatience.
'I am quite comfortable, sir. I have no need to stay. I have simply looked in to know how your self- appointed task was progressing.'
'It is difficult — very difficult.'
'I feared that you would find it so.'
There was a distinct sneer in the old courtier's words and manner.
'Every man finds his limitations, Mr. Holmes, but at least it cures us of the weakness of self- satisfaction.'
'Yes, sir, I have been much perplexed.'
'No doubt.'
'Especially upon one point. Possibly you could help me upon
'You apply for my advice rather late in the day. I thought that you had your own all-sufficient methods. Still, I am ready to help you.'
'You see, Lord Cantlemere, we can no doubt frame a case against the actual thieves.'
'When you have caught them.'
'Exactly. But the question is — how shall we proceed against the receiver?'
'Is this not rather premature?'
'It is as well to have our plans ready. Now, what would you regard as final evidence against the receiver?'
'The actual possession of the stone.'
'You would arrest him upon that?'
'Most undoubtedly.'
Holmes seldom laughed, but he got as near it as his old friend Watson could remember.
'In that case, my dear sir, I shall be under the painful necessity of advising your arrest.'
Lord Cantlemere was very angry. Some of the ancient fires flickered up into his sallow cheeks.
'You take a great liberty, Mr. Holmes. In fifty years of official life I cannot recall such a case. I am a busy man, sir engaged upon important affairs, and I have no time or taste for foolish jokes. I may tell you frankly, sir, that I have never been a believer in your powers, and that I have always been of the opinion that the matter was far safer in the hands of the regular police force. Your conduct confirms all my conclusions. I have the honour, sir, to wish you good-evening.'
Holmes had swiftly changed his position and was between the peer and the door.
'One moment, sir,' said he. 'To actually go off with the Mazarin stone would be a more serious offence than to be found in temporary possession of it.'
'Sir, this is intolerable! Let me pass.'
'Put your hand in the right-hand pocket of your overcoat.'
'What do you mean, sir?'
'Come — come, do what I ask.'
An instant later the amazed peer was standing, blinking and stammering, with the great yellow stone on his shaking palm.
'What! What! How is this, Mr. Holmes?'
'Too bad, Lord Cantlemere, too bad!' cried Holmes. 'My old friend here will tell you that I have an impish habit of practical joking. Also that I can never resist a dramatic situation. I took the liberty — the very great liberty, I admit — of putting the stone into your pocket at the beginning of our interview.'
The old peer stared from the stone to the smiling face before him.
'Sir, I am bewildered. But — yes — it is indeed the Mazarin stone. We are greatly your debtors, Mr. Holmes. Your sense of humour may, as you admit, be somewhat perverted, and its exhibition remarkably untimely, but at least I withdraw any reflection I have made upon your amazing professional powers. But how—'
'The case is but half finished; the details can wait. No doubt, Lord Cantlemere, your pleasure in telling of
