text
stringlengths
0
74
"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said he.
"Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, 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 niece, Mary, has
deserted me."
"Deserted you?"
"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was empty,
and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to her last
night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had married my boy all
might have been well with him. Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to
say so. It is to that remark that she 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
"'Mary.'
"What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it points
to suicide?"
"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible
solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your
troubles."
"Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. 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."
With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes
walked over to his 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!" he gasped. "I am saved! I am saved!"
The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and he
hugged his recovered gems to his bosom.
"There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder," said Sherlock Holmes
rather sternly.
"Owe!" He 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 lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I
should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to have
one."
"Then it was not Arthur who took them?"
"I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not."
"You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him know
that the truth is known."
"He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an interview
with him, and finding that he would not tell me the story, I told it
to him, on which he 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 his 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 Sir
George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together."
"My Mary? Impossible!"
"It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither you
nor your son knew the true character of this man when you admitted
him into your family circle. He is one of the most dangerous men in
England--a ruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man
without heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men.
When he breathed his vows to her, as he had done to a hundred before
her, she flattered herself that she alone had touched his heart. The
devil knows best what he said, but at least she became his tool and
was in the habit of seeing him nearly every evening."
"I cannot, and I will not, believe it!" cried the banker with an
ashen face.