that had occurred, he tried to bluster and took down a life-preserver from the

wall. I knew my man, however, and I clapped a pistol to his head before he

could strike. Then he became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would

give him a price for the stones he held—£ 1000 apiece. That brought out

the first signs of grief that he had shown. ‘Why, dash it all!’

said he, ‘I’ve let them go at six hundred for the three!’ I

soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had them, on promising him

that there would be no prosecution. Off I set to him, and after much chaffering

I got our stones at £ 1000 apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him

that all was right, and eventually got to my bed about two o’clock, after

what I may call a really hard day’s work.”


“A day which has saved England from a great public scandal,” said

the banker, rising. “Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but you shall

not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your skill has indeed exceeded

all that I have heard of it. And now I must fly to my dear boy to apologise to

him for the wrong which I have done him. As to what you tell me of poor Mary,

it goes to my very heart. Not even your skill can inform me where she is

now.”


“I think that we may safely say,” returned Holmes, “that she

is wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that whatever

her sins are, they will soon receive a more than sufficient punishment.”


XII.THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES

“To the man who

loves art for its own sake,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the

advertisement sheet of The Daily Telegraph, “it is frequently in

its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to

be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far

grasped this truth that in these little records of our cases which you have

been good enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, occasionally to embellish,