The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes

moan­ing cry, she fell on her knees, her hands clutching at his coat. Holmes stooped and raised her swiftly.

'Kneel to your husband, Lady Doverton, and not to me,' he said quietly. 'Indeed, you have much to answer for.'

'I swear to you—'

'Hush, I know all. Not a word shall pass my lips.'

'You mean that you will not tell him?' she gasped.

'I see nothing to be gained thereby. Joliffe will be released in the morning, of course, and the affair of the Abbas Ruby brought to a close.'

'God reward you for your mercy,' she whispered brokenly. 'I will do my best to make amends. But my unfortunate brother—his losses at cards—'

'Ah, yes, Captain Masterman. I do not think, Lady Doverton, that you have cause to worry too deeply over that gentleman. Captain Masterman's bankruptcy and the resultant scandal in the Nonpareil Club may have the result of starting him upon a more honourable path than that which he has pursued up to now. Indeed, once the scandal has become a thing of the past, Sir John might be persuaded to arrange a commission for him in some overseas military service. From what I have seen of that young man's enterprise and address, I have no doubt that he would do very well on the North-West frontier of India.'

Evidently, I was more fatigued than I had supposed by the events of the night, and I did not awake until nearly ten o'clock. When I entered our sitting-room, I found that Sherlock Holmes had already finished his breakfast and was lounging in front of the fire in his old red dressing-gown, his feet stretched out to the blaze and the air rancid with the smoke of his after-breakfast pipe composed of the previous day's dottles. I rang for Mrs. Hudson and ordered a pot of coffee and some rashers and eggs.

'I'm glad that you're in time, Watson,' he said, shoot­ing an amused glance at me from beneath his drooping lids.

'Mrs. Hudson's capability to produce breakfast at any hour is not least among her virtues,' I replied.

'Quite so. But I was not referring to your breakfast. I am expecting Sir John Doverton.'

'In that case, Holmes, as it is a delicate affair, it would be better perhaps that I leave you alone.'

Holmes waved me back to my seat. 'My dear fellow, I shall be glad of your presence. And here, I think, is our visitor a few minutes before his time.'

There came a knock on the door and the tall, stooping figure of the well-known horticulturist entered the room. 'You have news for me, Mr. Holmes!' he cried im­petuously. 'Speak out, sir, speak out! I am all attention.'

'Yes, I have news for you,' Holmes replied with a slight smile.

Sir John darted forward. 'Then the camellias—' he began.

'Well, well. Perhaps we would be wise to forget the red camellias. I noticed a goodly crop of buds on the bush.'

'I thank God that is true,' said our visitor devoutly, 'and I am glad to perceive, Mr. Holmes, that you place a higher value on the ascetic rarities of Nature than on the intrinsic treasures of man's handiwork. Nevertheless, there still remains the dreadful loss of the Abbas Ruby. Have you any hope of recovering the jewel?'

'There is every hope. But, before we discuss the matter any further, I beg that you will join me in a glass of port.' Sir John raised  his  eyebrows.   'At this hour,  Mr. Holmes?' he exclaimed. 'Really, sir, I hardly think—'

'Come now,' smiled Sherlock Holmes, filling three glasses at the sideboard and handing one to our visitor. 'It is a chill morning and I can heartily recommend the rarity of this vintage.'

With a slight frown of disapproval, Sir John Doverton lifted the glass to his lips. There was a moment of silence broken by a sudden startled cry. Our visitor, his face as white as the piece of linen which he had put to his mouth, stared wildly from Holmes to the flaming, flashing crystal which had fallen from his lips into his handkerchief. 'The Abbas Ruby!' he gasped.

Sherlock Holmes broke into a hearty laugh and clapped his hands together.

'Really you must forgive me!' he cried. 'My friend Dr. Watson will tell you that I can never resist these somewhat dramatic touches. It is perhaps the Vernet blood in my veins.'

Sir John Doverton gazed thunder-struck at the great jewel, smouldering and winking against its background of white linen.

'Good heavens, I can scarcely credit my own eyes,' he said in a shaking voice. 'But how on earth did you re­cover it?'

'Ah, there I must crave your indulgence. Suffice to say that your butler, Joliffe, who was a sorely wronged man, was released this morning and that the jewel is now re­turned safely to its rightful owner,' replied Holmes kind­ly. 'Here is the locket and chain from which I took the liberty of removing the stone in order that I might play my little trick upon you by concealing the ruby in your port wine. I beg that you will press the matter no further.'

'It shall be as you wish, Mr. Holmes,' said Sir John earnestly. 'Indeed I have cause to place every confidence in your judgement. But what can I do to express—'

'Well, I am far from a rich man and I shall leave it to you whether or not I have deserved your five thousand pounds reward.'

'Many times over,' cried John Doverton, drawing a cheque-book from his pocket 'Furthermore, I shall send you a cutting from my red camellias.'

Holmes bowed gravely.

'I shall place it in the special charge of Watson,' he said. 'By the way, Sir John, I will be glad if you would make out two separate cheques. One for Ј2500 in favour of Sherlock Holmes, and the other for a similar amount in favour of Andrew Joliffe. I fear that from this time forward you might find your former butler a trifle nervous in his domestic duties, and this sum of money should be ample to set him up in the cigar business, thus fulfilling the secret ambition of his life. Thank you, my dear sir. And now I think that for once we might really break our morning habits and, by partaking a glass of port, modestly celebrate the successful conclusion of the case of the Abbas Ruby.'

----:----

Since . . . our visit to Devonshire, he had been engaged in two affairs of the utmost im­portance . . . the famous card scandal of the Nonpareil Club ... and the unfortunate Madame Montpensier.

FROM 'THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES.'

9

The Adventure of the Dark Angels

'I am afraid, Watson, that the Nordic temperament offers little scope for the student of crime. It tends towards an altogether deplorable banality,' remarked Holmes, as we turned from Oxford Street towards the less crowded pave­ments of Baker Street. It was a clear, crisp morning in May of 1901 and the uniforms of the lean, bronzed men who were flocking the streets on leave from the South African war struck a note of welcome gaiety against the sombre dresses of the women who were still in mourning for the death of the late Queen.

'I can remind you, Holmes, of a dozen instances among your own cases that disprove your assertion,' I replied, noting with some satisfaction that our morning walk had brought a touch of colour to my friend's sallow cheeks.

'For instance?' he asked.

'Well, Dr. Grimesby Roylott of infamous memory. The use of a tame snake for the purpose of murder cannot be lightly dismissed as a banality.'

'My dear fellow, your example proves my contention. From some fifty cases, we recall Dr. Roylott, 'Holy' Peters and one or two others merely for the reason that they employed an imaginative approach to crime which was startlingly at variance with the normal practice. Indeed, I am sometimes tempted to think that, just as Cuvier could reconstruct the complete animal from one bone, so the logical reasoner could tell from a nation's cooking the prevailing characteristics of the nation's criminals.'

'I can observe no parallel,' I laughed.

'Think it over, Watson. There, incidentally,' he con­tinued, gesturing with his stick towards a chocolate-