The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle  

From The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia

Jump to: navigation, search

"The man was highly intellectual [...] and also [...] fairly well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him."

Related e



Kunstformen der Natur (1904) by Ernst Haeckel
Kunstformen der Natur (1904) by Ernst Haeckel

"The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle", one of the 56 short Sherlock Holmes stories written by British author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, is the seventh story of twelve in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. The story was first published in Strand Magazine in January 1892.

Full text


HAD called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disrepu- table hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the purpose of examination.

"You are engaged," said 1; "perhaps I interrupt you."

" Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one" (he jerked his thumb in the direction of the old hat), " but there are points in connection with it which are not entirely devoid of interest and even of instruction."

I seated myself in his arm-chair and warmed my hands before his crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were thick with the ice crystals. "I suppose," I remarked, "that, homely as it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it — ^that it is the clew which will guide you in the solution of some mystery and the punish- ment of some crime."

"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Only one of those whimsical little incidents which will


happen when you have four million human beings all jostling each other within the space of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre without being criminal. We have al- ready had experience of such."

^'So much so," I remarked, that of the last six cases which I have added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any legal crime."

" Precbely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler papers, to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. You know Peterson, the commis- sionaire ?"

« Yes."

    • It is to him that this trophy belongs."

" It is his hat."

    • No, no ; he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that

you will look upon it, not as a battered billycock, but as an intellectual problem. And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting at this moment in front of Peterson's fire. The facts are these: about four o'clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was returning from some small jolli- fication, and was making his way homeward down Totten- ham Court Road. In front of him he saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, and carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the comer of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger and a little knot of roughs. One of the latter knocked off the man's hat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself, and, swing- ing it over his head, smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his


assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing tow- ards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished amid the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of Petersoti, so that he was left in possession of the field of battle, and also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered hat and a most unimpeachable Christ- mas goose."

" Which surely he restored to their owner ?"

"My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that

  • For Mrs. Henry Baker ' was printed upon a small card which

was tied to the bird's left leg, and it is also true that the in- itials ' H. B.' are legible upon the lining of this hat ; but as there are some thousands of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to any one of them."

" What, then, did Peterson do ?"

" He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christ- mas morning, knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The gOQse we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner."

" Did he not advertise ?"


" Then, what clue could you have as to his identity ?*'

" Only as much as we can deduce."

" From his hat ?"

" Precisely."

" But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered felt ?"

" Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you


gather yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article ?"

I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round shape, hard, and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of red silk, but was a good deal discolored. There was no maker*s name ; but, as Holmes had remarked, the initals '* H. B." were scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a hat -securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the discolored patches by smearing them with ink.

'* I can see nothing," said I, handing it back to my friend.

"On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your inferences."

"Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat ?"

He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion which was characteristic of him. " It is perhaps less suggestive than it might have been," he remarked, " and yet there are a few inferences which are very distinct, and a few others which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him."

" My dear Holmes 1"

"He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect," he continued, disregarding my remonstrance. " He is a man


who leads a sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days, and which he anoints with lime- cream. These are the more patent facts which are to be de- duced from his hat. Also, by-the-way, that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his house."

" You are certainly joking, Holmes."

" Not in the least Is it possible that even now, when I give you these results, you are unable to see how they are attained ?"

'* I have no doubt that I am very stupid ; but I must con- fess that I am unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man was intellectual ?"

For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is a question of cubic capacity," said he; a man with so large a brain must have something in it."

" The decline of his fortunes, then ?"

" This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, then he has assuredly gone down in the world."

" Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight and the moral retrogression ?"

Sherlock Holmes laughed. " Here is the foresight," said he, putting his finger upon the little disk and loop of the hat- securer. "They are never sold upon hats. If this man or- dered one, it is a sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take this precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken the elastic, and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavored to conceal some of these stains upon the felt by daubing them

158 Adventures of Sherlock holmes

with ink, which is a sign that he has not entirely lost his self- respect."

" Your reasoning is certainly plausible."

"The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime- cream, are all to be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and there is a distinct odor of lime- cream. This dust, you will Observe, is not the gritty, gray dust of the street, but the fluffy brown dust of the house, showing that it has been hung up in-doors most of the time ; while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof posi- tive that the wearer perspired very freely, and could, there- fore, hardly be in the best of training."

"But his wife — you said that she had ceased to love him."

" This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear Watson, with a week's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection."

" But he might be a bachelor."

" Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace-offering to his wife. Remember the card upon the bird's leg."

" You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce that the gas is not laid on in his house ?"

"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning tallow — ^walks up-stairs at night probably with his hat in one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow-stains from a gas-jet. Are you satisfied ?"

"Well, it is very ingenious," said I, laughing; "but since, as you said just now, there has been no crime committed, and


no harm done, save the loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a waste of energy."

Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew open, and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with astonishment

" The goose, Mr. Holmes ! The goose, sir !" he gasped.

"Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off through the kitchen window ?" Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get a fairer view of the man's excited face.

" See here, sir ! See what my wife found in its crop !" He held out his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the dark hollow of his hand.

Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. " By Jove, Peter- son !" said he, " this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you have got?"

" A diamond, sir ? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though it were putty."

" It's more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone."

" Not the Countess of Morcar's blue carbuncle I" I ejacu- lated.

" Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I have read the advertisement about it in The Times every day lately. It is absolutely unique, and its value can only be conjectured, but the reward offered of £\ooo is certainly not within a twentieth part of the market price."

" A thousand pounds 1 Great Lord of mercy !" The com- missionaire plumped down into a chair, and stared from one to the other of us.

" That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are sentimental considerations in the background which would induce the countess to part with half her fortune if she could but recover the gem."


good scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by the aid of a small slip of flesh-colored plaster. Then with a red head of hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the busi- est part of the city, ostensibly as a match-seller, but really as a beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I re- turned home in the evening I found, to my surprise, that I had received no less than 26s, \d,

" I ¥rrote my articles, and thought little more of the matter until, some time later, I backed a bill for a friend, and had a writ served upon me for £2^. I was at my wits' end where to get the money, but a sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight^s grace from the creditor, asked for a holiday from my employers, and spent the time in begging in the city under my disguise. In ten days I had the money, and had paid the debt.

  • ^ Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to

arduous work at £2 a week, when I knew that I could earn as much in a day by smearing my face with a little paint, lay- ing my cap on the ground, and sitting still. It was a long fight between my pride and the money, but the dollars won at last, and I threw up reporting, and sat day after day in the corner which I had first chosen, inspiring pity by my ghastly face, and filling my pockets with coppers. Only one man knew my secret. He was the keeper of a low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam Lane, where I could every morning emerge as a squalid beggar, and in the evenings transform myself into a well-dressed man about town. This fellow, a Lascar, was well paid by me for his rooms, so that I knew that my secret was safe in his possession.

'^ Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London could earn ;^7oo a year — which is less than my average takings — but I had exceptional advantages in my power of making up, and also in a facility of repartee, which improved by practice, and made me quite a recognized char- acter in the city. All day a stream of pennies, varied by sil-


ver, poured in upon me, and it was a very bad day in which I failed to take £2.

" As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the country, and eventually married, without any one having a suspicion as to my real occupation. My dear wife knew that I had business in the city. She little knew what.

'^ Last Monday I had finished for the day, and was dressing in my room above the opium den, when I looked out of my window, and saw, to my horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the street, with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of surprise, threw up my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my confidant, the Lascar, entreated him to prevent any one from coming up to me. I heard her voice down-stairs, but I knew that she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes, pulled on those of a beggar, and put on my pigments and wig. Even a wife's eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But then it occurred to me that there might be a search in the room, and that the clothes might be- tray me. I threw open the window, reopening by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in the bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which was weighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it from the leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of the window, and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes would have followed, but at that moment there was a rush of constables up the stair, and a few minutes after I foimd, rather, I confess, to my relief, that instead of being identified as Mr. Neville St. Clair, I was arrested as his mur- derer.

"I do not know that there is anything else for me to ex- plain: I was determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and hence my preference for a dirty face. Know- ing that my wife would be terribly anxious, I slipped off my ring, and confided it to the Lascar at a moment when no constable was watching me, together with a hurried scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to fear."


" Very well, sir. And this stone ?"

" Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back, and leave it here with me, for we must have one to give to this gentleman in place of the one which your family is now devouring."

When the commissionaire had gone. Holmes took up the stone and held it against the light. *' It's a bonny thing/' said he. ^' Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in Southern China, and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade, instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has already a sinister history. There have been two murders, a vitriol- throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about for the sake of this forty-grain weight of crystallized charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison ? I'll lock it up in my strong box now, and drop a line to the countess to say that we have it."

Do you think that this man Homer is innocent?"

" I cannot tell."

'^ Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had anything to do with the matter ?"

" It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an absolutely innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he was carrying was of considerably more value than if it were made of solid gold. That, however, I shall determine by a very simple test, if we have an answer to our advertise ment."

" And you can do nothing until then ?"

" Nothing."

In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall come back in the evening at the hour you have men-


tioned, for I should like to see the solution of so tangled a business."

"Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a wood- cock, I believe. By-the-way, in view of recent occurrences^ perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop."

I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half- past six when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat which was buttoned up to his chin, waiting out side in the bright semicircle which was thrown from the fan- light Just as I arrived, the door was opened, and we were shown up together to Holmes's room.

" Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising from his arm- chair, and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he could so readily assume. " Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. Baker. It is a cold night, and I observe that your circulation is more adapted for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have just come at the right time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker ?"

" Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat."

He was a large man, with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a broad, intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight tremor of his extended hand, recalled Holmes's surmise as to his habits. His rusty black frock-coat was but- toned right up in front, with the collar turned up, and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a sign of cuff or shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the impression generally of a man of learning and letters who had had ill-usage at the hands of fortune.

"We have retained these things for some days," said Holmes, " because we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. I am at a loss to know now why you did not advertise."

Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. " Shillings


have not been so plentiful with me as they once were/' he re- marked. " I had no doubt that the gang of roughs who as- saulted me had carried off both my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a hopeless attempt at recov- ering them."

"Very naturally. By-the-way, about the bird, we were com- pelled to eat it."

" To eat it 1" Our visitor half rose from his chair in his excitement.

^' Yes, it would have been of no use to any one had we not done so. But I presume that this other goose upon the side- board, which is about the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your purpose equally well ?"

" Oh, certainly, certainly ;" answered Mr. Baker, with a sigh of relief.

" Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of your own bird, so if you wish — "

The man burst into a hearty laugh. ** They might be use- ful to me as relics of my adventure," said he, " but beyond that I can hardly see what use the disjecta membra of my late acquaintance are going to be to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I will confine my attentions to the ex- cellent bird which I perceive upon the sideboard."

Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"There is your hat, then, and there your bird," said he. " By-the-way, would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one from ? I am somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a better grown goose."

'^ Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly-gained property under his arm. " There are a few of us who frequent the 'Alpha Inn,' near the Mqseum — ^we are to be found in the Museum itself during the day, you under- stand. This year our good host, Windigate by name, insti- tuted a goose club, by which, on consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to receive a bird at Christ-


mas. My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity." With a comical pomposity of manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and strode off upon his way.

    • So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes, when he

had closed the door behind him. '^ It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson ?"

" Not particularly."

" Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper, and follow up this clew while it is still hot.'*

" By all means."

It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as we swung through the Doctors' quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley Street, and so through Wig- more Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the " Alpha Inn," which is a small public-house at the comer of one of the streets which runs down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar, and ordered two glasses of beer from the ruddy- faced, white-aproned landlord.

Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese," said he.

" My geese 1" The man seemed surprised.

" Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, who was a member of your goose club."

" Ah 1 yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not (mr geese."

" Indeed 1 Whose, then ?"

" Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Gar- den."

" Indeed ? I know some of them. Which was it ?"

Breckinridge is his name."


" Ah ! I don't know him. Well, here's your good health, landlord, and prosperity to your house. Good-night ?

" Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued, buttoning up his coat, as we came out into the frosty air. " Remember, Watson, that though we have so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the other a man who will certainly get seven years' penal servitude unless we can es- tablish his innocence. It is possible that our inquiry may but confirm his guilt ; but, in any case, we have a line of in- vestigation which has been missed by the police, and which a singular chance has placed in our hands. Let us follow it out to the bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and quick march !"

We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore the name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor, a horsey-looking man, with a sharp face and trim side-whiskers, was helping a boy to put up the shutters.

" Good-evening. It's a cold night," said Holmes.

The salesman nodded, and shot a questioning glance at my companion.

" Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the bare slabs of marble.

" Let you have 500 to-morrow ^lorning."

" That's no good."

" Well, there are some on the stall with the gas-flare."

" Ah, but I was recommended to you."

" Who by ?"

« The landlord of the ' Alpha.' "

" Oh, yes ; I sent him a couple of dozen."

" Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from ?"

To my surprise the question provoked a burst of anger from the salesman.

" Now, then, mister," said he, with his head cocked and his


arms akimbo, " what are you driving at ? Let's have it straight, now."

'* It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese which you supplied to the * Alpha.' "

" Well, then, I sha'n't tell you. So now 1"

" Oh, it is a matter of no importance ; but I don't know why you should be so warm over such a trifle."

" Warm ! You'd be as warm, maybe, if you were as pes- tered as I am. When I pay good money for a good article there should be an end of the business ; but it's ' Where are the geese ?' and * Who did you sell the geese to V and * What will you take for the geese ?' One would think they were the only geese in the world, to hear the fuss that is made over them."

"Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been making inquiries," said Holmes, carelessly. " If you won't tell us the bet is off, that is all. But I'm always ready to back my opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the bird I ate is country bred."

" Well, then, you've lost your fiver, for it's town bred," snapped the salesman.

" It's nothing of the kind."

" I say it is."

" I don't believe it."

" D'you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled them ever since I was a nipper ? I tell you, all those birds that went to the ' Alpha ' were town bred."

" You'll never persuade me to believe that."

" Will you bet, then ?"

" It's merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But I'll have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be obstinate."

The salesman chuckled grimly. " Bring me the books, Bill," said he.

The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great greasy- backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging lamp.


    • Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman, ^* I thought

that I was out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there is still one left in my shop. You see this little book ?"

" Well ?"

" That's the list of the folk from whom I buy. D'you see ? Well, then, here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. Now, then 1 You see this other page in red ink ? Well, that is a list of my town suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just read it out to me."

"Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road — 249," read Holmes.

" Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger."

Holmes turned to the page indicated. "Here you are, 'Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road, egg. and poultry sup- plier.' "

" Now, then, what's the last entry ?"

" * December 22. Twenty-four geese at ys. 6</.' "

" Quite so. There you are. And underneath ?"

" * Sold to Mr. Windigate of the ' Alpha,' at 12^.' "

" What have you to say now ?"

Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off he stopped imder a lamp-post, and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which was pecul- iar to him.

" When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the 'pink 'un' protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet," said he. " I dare say that if I had put

f 100 down in front of him, that man would not have given

me such complete information as was drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. Well, Watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end of our quest, and the only point which remains to be determined is whether we should go on to this Mrs. Oakshott to-night, or whether we should re- serve it for to-morrow. It is clear from what that surly fellow


said that there are others besides ourselves who are anxious about the matter, and I should — "

His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke out from the stall which we had just left. Turn- ing round we saw a little rat-faced fellow standing in the cen- tre of the circle of yellow light which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckinridge the salesman, framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his fists fiercely at the cringing figure.

" I Ve had enough of you and your geese," he shouted. " I wish you were all at the devil together. If you come pester- ing me any more with your silly talk I'll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. Oakshott here and I'll answer her, but what have you to do with it ? Did I buy the geese off you ?"

'^ No ; but one of them was mine all the same,^' whined the little man.

" Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it."

" She told me to ask you."

" Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I've had enough of it. Get out of this I" He rushed fiercely forward, and the inquirer flitted away into the darkness.

" Ha ! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road," whispered Holmes. " Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this fellow." Striding through the scattered knots of people who lounged round the flaring stalls, my companion speedily overtook the little man and touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang round, and I could see in the gas- light that every vestige of color had been driven from his face.

" Who are you, then ? What do you want ?" he asked, in a quavering voice.

" You will excuse me," said Holmes, blandly, " but I could not help overhearing the questions which you put to the sales- man just now. I think that I could be of assistance to you."

" You ? Who are you ? How could you know an3rthing of the matter ?"


'^ My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't know."

" But you can know nothing of this ?"

" Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavor- ing to trace some geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road, to a salesman named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. Windigate, of the ' Alpha,' and by him to his club, of which Mr. Henry Baker is a member."

"Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet," cried the little fellow, with outstretched hands and quivering fingers. " I can hardly explain to you how inter- ested I am in this matter."

Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. " In that case we had better discuss it in a cosey room rather than in this windswept market-place," said he. " But pray tell me, before we go farther, who it is that I have the pleas- ure of assisting."

The man hesitated for an instant. "My name is John Robinson," he answered, with a sidelong glance.

" No, no ; the real name," said Holmes, sweetly. " It is always awkward doing business with an aUcts^

A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. " Well, then," said he, " my real name is James Ryder."

" 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 I You want to know what became of those geese ?"

« Yes, sir."

" Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I im- agine, 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 won- der that you should take an interest in it. It laid an tgg after it was dead — the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever W2is seen. I have it here in my museum."

Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantel- piece 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-pcinted 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 I"

For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy brought a tinge of color 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 Homer, 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 I 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 1 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 Homer 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 was the matter, and why I was so pale ; but I told her that I had been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went into the back yard and smoked a pipe, and wondered what it would be best to do.

" I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad^ and has just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met me, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they could get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to me, for I knew one or two things about him ; so I made up my mind to go right on to Kilburri, where he lived, and take him into my confidence. He would show me how to turn the stone into money. But how to get to him in safety ? I thought of the agonies I had gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment be seized and searched, and there would be the stone in my waistcoat pocket. I was leaning against the wall at the time, and looking at the geese which were waddling about round my feet, and sudden- ly an idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat the best detective that ever lived.

" My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in the )rard, and behind this I drove one of the birds — a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and, prying its bill open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into


its crop. But the creature flapped and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and fluttered off among the others.

" * Whatever v^ere you doing with that bird, Jem ?' says she.

" * Well,* said I, *you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and I was feeling which was the fattest.'

" * Oh,* says she, * we've set yours aside for you — Jem's bird, we call it It's the big white one over yonder. There's twen- ty-six of them, which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.'

" * Thank you, Maggie,' says I ; * but if it is all the same to you, rd rather have that one I was handling just now.'

" * The other is a good three pound heavier,' said she, ' and we fattened it expressly for you.'

" * Never mind. I'll have the other, and I'll take it now,' said I.

" * Oh, just as you like,' said she, a little huffed. * Which is it you want, then ?'

" ' That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the flock.'

" * Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.'

" Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird all the way to Kilbum. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some terrible mistake had oc- curred. I left the bird, rushed back to my sister's, and hurried into the back yard. There was not a bird to be seen there.

" ' Where are they all, Maggie ?' I cried.

" ' Gone to the dealer's, Jim.'

"'Which dealer's?'

" * Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.'

" * But was there another with a barred tail ?' I asked, * the same as the one I chose ?'


" * Yes, Jem ; there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never tell them apart.'

" Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran ojS as hard as my feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge ; but he had sold the lot at once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they had gone. You heard him yourselves to-night. Well, he has always answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think that I am myself. And now — and now I am myself a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. God help me! God help me!" He burst into convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in his hands.

There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breath- ing, and by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes's fin- ger-tips upon the edge of the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door.

" Get out !" said he.

" What, sir ! Oh, heaven bless you 1"

" No more words. Get out !"

And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rat- tle of running footfalls from the street

"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his band for his clay pipe, " I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. If Homer were in danger it would be an- other thing ; but this fellow will not appear against him, and the case must collapse. I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong again ; he is too terribly frightened. Send him to jail now, and you make him a jail-bird for life. Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its solu- tion is its own reward. If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also, a bird will be the chief feature."

Unless indicated otherwise, the text in this article is either based on Wikipedia article "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle" or another language Wikipedia page thereof used under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License; or on original research by Jahsonic and friends. See Art and Popular Culture's copyright notice.

Personal tools