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elapt1c
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ElapticAI-512

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“Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray step into
the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you everything which you
would wish to know.
The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with
half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether he
is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped into
the cab, and in half an hour we were back in the sitting-room at Baker
Street. Nothing had been said during our drive, but the high, thin
breathing of our new companion, and the claspings and unclaspings of
his hands, spoke of the nervous tension within him.
“Here we are! said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. “The
fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, Mr. Ryder.
Pray take the basket-chair. I will just put on my slippers before we
settle this little matter of yours. Now, then! You want to know what
became of those geese?
“Yes, sir.
“Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in which
you were interested—white, with a black bar across the tail.
Ryder quivered with emotion. “Oh, sir, he cried, “can you tell me
where it went to?
“It came here.
“Here?
“Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don’t wonder that you
should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was dead—the
bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. I have it here
in my museum.
Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece with his
right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up the blue
carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, brilliant,
many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a drawn face, uncertain
whether to claim or to disown it.
“The game’s up, Ryder, said Holmes quietly. “Hold up, man, or you’ll
be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair, Watson. He’s not
got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity. Give him a dash of
brandy. So! Now he looks a little more human. What a shrimp it is, to
be sure!
For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy brought
a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring with frightened
eyes at his accuser.
“I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I could
possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. Still, that
little may as well be cleared up to make the case complete. You had
heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of the Countess of Morcar’s?
“It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it, said he in a crackling
voice.
“I see—her ladyship’s waiting-maid. Well, the temptation of sudden
wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it has been for
better men before you; but you were not very scrupulous in the means
you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is the making of a very
pretty villain in you. You knew that this man Horner, the plumber, had
been concerned in some such matter before, and that suspicion would
rest the more readily upon him. What did you do, then? You made some
small job in my lady’s room—you and your confederate Cusack—and you
managed that he should be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you
rifled the jewel-case, raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate man
arrested. You then—
Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my
companion’s knees. “For God’s sake, have mercy! he shrieked. “Think of
my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I never went
wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I’ll swear it on a Bible.
Oh, don’t bring it into court! For Christ’s sake, don’t!
“Get back into your chair! said Holmes sternly. “It is very well to
cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this poor Horner
in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing.
“I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the charge
against him will break down.
“Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true account of
the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came the goose
into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies your only hope
of safety.
Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. “I will tell you it just
as it happened, sir, said he. “When Horner had been arrested, it
seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away with the stone at
once, for I did not know at what moment the police might not take it
into their heads to search me and my room. There was no place about the
hotel where it would be safe. I went out, as if on some commission, and
I made for my sister’s house. She had married a man named Oakshott, and
lived in Brixton Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the
way there every man I met seemed to me to be a policeman or a
detective; and, for all that it was a cold night, the sweat was pouring
down my face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked me what