“Even my limited sense of humour could evolve a better jokethan that. But we may be comfortable in the meantime, may wenot? Is alcohol permitted? The gasogene and cigars are in the oldplace. Let me see you once more in the customary armchair. Youhave not, I hope, learned to despise my pipe and my lamentabletobacco? It has to take the place of food these days.”
“But why not eat?”
“Because the faculties become refined when you starve them.
Why, surely, as a doctor, my dear Watson, you must admit thatwhat your digestion gains in the way of blood supply is so muchlost to the brain. I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mereappendix. Therefore, it is the brain I must consider.”
“But this danger, Holmes?”
“Ah, yes, in case it should come off, it would perhaps be as well thatyou should burden your memory with the name and address of themurderer. You can give it to Scotland Yard, with my love and a partingblessing. Sylvius is the name—Count Negretto Sylvius. Write it down,man, write it down! 136 Moorside Gardens, N. W. Got it?”
Watson’s honest face was twitching with anxiety. He knew onlytoo well the immense risks taken by Holmes and was well awarethat what he said was more likely to be under-statement thanexaggeration. Watson was always the man of action, and he rose tothe occasion.
“Count me in, Holmes. I have nothing to do for a day or two.”
“Your morals don’t improve, Watson. You have added fibbingto your other vices. You bear every sign of the busy medical man,with calls on him every hour.”
“Not such important ones. But can’t you have this fellowarrested?”
“Yes, Watson, I could. That’s what worries him so.”
“But why don’t you?”
“Because I don’t know where the diamond is.”
“Ah! Billy told me—the missing Crown jewel!”
“Yes, the great yellow Mazarin stone. I’ve cast my net and I havemy fish. But I have not got the stone. What is the use of takingthem? We can make the world a better place by laying them by theheels. But that is not what I am out for. It’s the stone I want.”
“And is this Count Sylvius one of your fish?”
“Yes, and he’s a shark. He bites. The other is Sam Merton theboxer. Not a bad fellow, Sam, but the Count has used him. Sam’snot a shark. He is a great big silly bull-headed gudgeon. But he isflopping about in my net all the same.”
“Where is this Count Sylvius?”
“I’ve been at his very elbow all the morning. You’ve seen meas an old lady, Watson. I was never more convincing. He actuallypicked up my parasol for me once. ‘By your leave, madame,’
said he—half-ltalian, you know, and with the Southern gracesof manner when in the mood, but a devil incarnate in the othermood. Life is full of whimsical happenings, Watson.”
“It might have been tragedy.”
“Well, perhaps it might. I followed him to old Straubenzee’sworkshop in the Minories. Straubenzee made the air-gun—a verypretty bit of work, as I understand, and I rather fancy it is inthe opposite window at the present moment. Have you seen thedummy? Of course, Billy showed it to you. Well, it may get a bulletthrough its beautiful head at any moment. Ah, Billy, what is it?”
The boy had reappeared in the room with a card upon a tray.
Holmes glanced at it with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.
“The man himself. I had hardly expected this. Grasp the nettle,Watson! A man of nerve. Possibly you have heard of his reputationas a shooter of big game. It would indeed be a triumphant endingto his excellent sporting record if he added me to his bag. This is aproof that he feels my toe very close behind his heel.”
“Send for the police.”
“I probably shall. But not just yet. Would you glance carefullyout of the window, Watson, and see if anyone is hanging about inthe street?”
Watson looked warily round the edge of the curtain.
“Yes, there is one rough fellow near the door.”
“That will be Sam Merton—the faithful but rather fatuous Sam.
Where is this gentleman, Billy?”
“In the waiting-room, sir.”
“Show him up when I ring.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If I am not in the room, show him in all the same.”
“Yes, sir.”
Watson waited until the door was closed, and then he turnedearnestly to his companion.
“Look here, Holmes, this is simply impossible. This is a desperateman, who sticks at nothing. He may have come to murder you.”
“I should not be surprised.”
“I insist upon staying with you.”
“You would be horribly in the way.”
“In his way?”
“No, my dear fellow—in my way.”
“Well, I can’t possibly leave you.”
“Yes, you can, Watson. And you will, for you have never failedto play the game. I am sure you will play it to the end. This manhas come for his own purpose, but he may stay for mine.” Holmestook out his notebook and scribbled a few lines. “Take a cab toScotland Yard and give this to Youghal of the C. I. D. Come backwith the police. The fellow’s arrest will follow.”
“I’ll do that with joy.
“Before you return I may have just time enough to find outwhere the stone is.” He touched the bell. “I think we will go outthrough the bedroom. This second exit is exceedingly useful. Irather want to see my shark without his seeing me, and I have, asyou will remember, my own way of doing it.”
