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Authors: Adrian Conan Doyle,John Dickson Carr

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manservant at the door, he led the way into the hall.

As we followed the servant up a marble staircase to the floor above, I caught a glimpse of

lofty and luxurious rooms in which small groups of men, clad in evening dress, were sitting

about and reading papers or gathered round rosewood card-tables.

Our guide knocked at a door and a moment later we found ourselves in a small, comfortably

furnished room hung with sporting prints and smelling strongly of cigar smoke. A tall, soldierly-

looking man with a close-cropped moustache and thick auburn hair, who was lounging in a

chair before the fireplace, made no attempt to rise at our entrance but, whirling Holmes's

card between his fingers, surveyed us coldly through a pair of blue eyes that reminded me

forcibly of Lady Doverton.

"You choose strange times to call, gentlemen," he said, with a trace of hostility in his

voice. "It's cursed late."

"And getting later," my friend observed. "No, Captain Masterman, a chair is unnecessary. I

prefer to stand."

"Stand, then. What do you want?"

"The Abbas Ruby," said Sherlock Holmes quietly.

I started and gripped my stick. There was a moment of silence while Masterman stared

up at Holmes from the depth of his chair. Then throwing back his head, he laughed heartily.

"My dear sir, you must really excuse me!" he cried at length, his handsome face all a-grin.

"But your demand is a little excessive. The Nonpareil Club does not number absconding

servants among its members. You must seek 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 brilliance 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 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

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