The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes

elsewhere for Joliffe.'

'I have already spoken with Joliffe.'

'Ah, I see,' he sneered. 'Then you represent the inter­ests of the butler?'

'No, I represent the interests of justice,' replied Holmes sternly.

'Dear me, how very imposing. Well, Mr. Holmes, your demand was so worded that it is lucky for you that I have no witnesses or it would go hard with you in a court of law. A cool five thousand guineas' worth of slander, I should say. You'll find the door behind you.'

Holmes strolled across to the fireplace and, drawing his watch from his pocket, compared it with the clock on the mantelpiece.

'It is now five minutes after midnight,' he remarked. 'You have until nine o'clock in the morning to return the jewel to me at Baker Street.'

Masterman bounded from his chair.

'Now look here, damn you—' he snarled.

'It won't do, Captain Masterman, really it won't do. However, that you may realize that I am not bluffing, I will run over a few points for your edification. You knew Joliffe's past record and you got him the post with Sir John as a possible sinecure for the future.'

'Prove it, you cursed busybody!'

'Later you needed money,' continued Holmes imper­turbably, 'a great deal of money, to judge from the value of the Abbas Ruby. I have no doubt that an examination of your card losses would give us the figure. Thereupon you contrived, I regret to add with your sister's help, a scheme that was as cunning in its conception as it was merciless in its execution.

'From Lady Doverton you obtained precise details of the jewel-case containing the stone, and you caused a duplicate of this case to be constructed. The difficulty was to know when Sir John would withdraw the ruby from the safe, which he did but rarely. The coming dinner ­party at which you were to be one of the guests suggested a very simple solution. Relying on the wholehearted sup­port of the ladies, you would ask your brother-in-law to bring down the jewel. But how to ensure that he and the others would leave the room while the jewel was there? I fear that, here, we come upon the subtle traces of the feminine mind. There could be no surer way than to play upon Sir John's pride in his famous red camellias. It worked out exactly as you foresaw.

'When Joliffe returned with the news that the bush had been stripped, Sir John instantly thrust the jewel- case into the nearest receptacle and, followed by his guests, rushed to the conservatory. You slipped back, pocketed the case and, on the robbery being discovered, volunteered the perfectly true information that his wretched butler was a convicted jewel-thief. However, though cleverly planned and boldly executed, you made two cardinal errors.

'The first was that the duplicate jewel-case, which had been rather amateurishly smashed and then planted un­der the mattress of Joliffe's bed, probably some hours in advance, was lined in a pale velvet. My lens disclosed that this delicate surface contained not the slightest trace of rubbing such as invariably occurs from the mounting of a pendant jewel.

'The second error was fatal. Your sister stated that she had plucked the blossom in her gown immediately prior to dinner and, such being the case, the flowers must have been there at eight o'clock. I asked myself what I should do if I wished to dispose of a dozen blossoms as swiftly as possible. The answer was the nearest window, In this instance, the one in the passage.

'But the snow which lay in a deep drift below disclosed no traces whatever. This, I confess, caused me some perplexity until, as Dr. Watson can testify, the obvious solu­tion dawned on me. I rushed back and proceeding very carefully to remove the snow-drift under the window, I came upon the remains of the missing camellias lying on the frozen earth. As they were too light to sink through the snow, they must have been flung there before the snow-fall commenced at six o'clock. Lady Doverton's story was therefore a fabrication and, in those withered flowers, lay the answer to the whole problem.'

During my friend's exposition, I had watched the angry flush on Captain Masterman's face fade into an ugly pallor and now, as Holmes ceased, he crossed swift­ly to a desk in the corner, an ominous glint in his eyes.

'I wouldn't,' said Holmes pleasantly.

Masterman paused with his hand on the drawer.

'What are you going to do?' he rasped.

'Providing that the Abbas Ruby is returned to me before nine o'clock, I shall make no public exposure and doubtless Sir John Doverton will forbear further en­quiries at my request. I am protecting his wife's name. Were it otherwise, you would feel the full weight of my hand upon you, Captain Masterman, for when I consider your inveiglement of your sister and your foul plot to ensnare an innocent man, I am hard put to it to recall a more blackguardly villain.'

'But the scandal, curse you!' cried Masterman. 'What of the scandal in the Nonpareil Club? I'm over my ears in card debts and if I give up the ruby—' he paused and shot us a swift furtive glance. 'Look here, Holmes, what about a sporting proposition—?'

My friend turned towards the door.

'You have until nine o'clock,' he said coldly. 'Come, Watson.'

The snow had begun to fall again as we waited in St. James's Street while the porter whistled for a cab.

'My dear fellow, I'm afraid that you must be very tired,' Holmes remarked.

'On the contrary, I am always invigorated by your company,' I answered.

'Well, you have deserved a few hours' rest. Our ad­ventures are over for tonight'

But my friend spoke too soon. A belated hansom carried us to Baker Street, and I was in the act of opening the front door with my latch-key when our attention was arrested by the lamps of a carriage approaching swiftly from the direction of Marlebone Road. The vehicle, a closed four-wheeler, came to a halt a few yards down the street and, an instant later, the muffled figure of a woman hurried towards us. Though her features were hidden under a heavy veil, there was something vaguely familiar in her tall, graceful form and the queenly poise of her head as she stood face to face with us on the snow-covered pavement.

'I wish to speak with you, Mr. Holmes,' she cried imperiously.

My friend raised his eyebrows. 'Perhaps you would go ahead, Watson, and light the gas,' he said quietly.

In the years of my association with the cases of my friend, Sherlock Holmes, I have seen many beautiful women cross our threshold. But I cannot recall one whose beauty surpassed that of the woman who now, with a deep rustle of skirts, entered our modest sitting-room.

She had thrown back her veil and the gas-light illum­ined with a pale radiance her perfect face and the bril­ liance of her long-lashed blue eyes which met and chal­lenged Holmes's stern and uncompromising glance.

'I had not expected this late visit, Lady Doverton,' he said austerely.

'I thought that you were omniscient, Mr. Holmes,' she replied, with a faint mockery ringing in her voice. 'But, perhaps you know nothing about women.'

'I fail to see—'

'Must I remind you of your boast? The loss of the Abbas Ruby is a disaster, and I could not rest in my anxiety to know whether or not you have fulfilled your promise. Come, sir, admit that you have failed.'

'On the contrary, I have succeeded.'

Our visitor rose from her chair, her eyes glittering.

'This is an ill jest, Mr. Holmes,' she cried haughtily.

I have remarked elsewhere that, despite his profound distrust of the opposite sex, it was my friend's nature to be chivalrous to women. But now, for the first time, as he faced Lady Doverton, I saw his face harden ominously in the presence of a woman.

'The hour is a trifle late for tiresome pretences, mad­am,' said he. 'I have visited the Nonpareil Club and taken some pains to explain to your brother both the manner in which he acquired the Abbas Ruby and the part which you—'

'My God!'

'—which you, I say, played in the matter. I beg that you will spare me my delusion that you played that part unwillingly.'

For an instant the beautiful, imperious creature faced Holmes in the circle of lamplight, then, with a low