He rushed down, just as he was, in his bare feet, opened thewindow, sprang out into the snow, and ran down the lane, wherehe could see a dark figure in the moonlight. Sir George Burnwelltried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was a strugglebetween them, your lad tugging at one side of the coronet, and hisopponent at the other. In the scuffle, your son struck Sir Georgeand cut him over the eye. Then something suddenly snapped, andyour son, finding that he had the coronet in his hands, rushedback, closed the window, ascended to your room, and had justobserved that the coronet had been twisted in the struggle andwas endeavouring to straighten it when you appeared upon thescene.”
“Is it possible?” gasped the banker.
“You then roused his anger by calling him names at a momentwhen he felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He couldnot explain the true state of affairs without betraying one whocertainly deserved little enough consideration at his hands. Hetook the more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her secret.”
“And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw thecoronet,” cried Mr. Holder. “Oh, my God! what a blind fool I havebeen! And his asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes! Thedear fellow wanted to see if the missing piece were at the scene ofthe struggle. How cruelly I have misjudged him!”
“When I arrived at the house,” continued Holmes, “I at oncewent very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces inthe snow which might help me. I knew that none had fallen sincethe evening before, and also that there had been a strong frost topreserve impressions. I passed along the tradesmen’s path, butfound it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it,however, at the far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stoodand talked with a man, whose round impressions on one sideshowed that he had a wooden leg. I could even tell that they hadbeen disturbed, for the woman had run back swiftly to the door,as was shown by the deep toe and light heel marks, while Woodenleghad waited a little, and then had gone away. I thought at thetime that this might be the maid and her sweetheart, of whom youhad already spoken to me, and inquiry showed it was so. I passedround the garden without seeing anything more than randomtracks, which I took to be the police; but when I got into thestable lane a very long and complex story was written in the snowin front of me.
“There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and asecond double line which I saw with delight belonged to a manwith naked feet. I was at once convinced from what you had toldme that the latter was your son. The first had walked both ways,but the other had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in placesover the depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had passedafter the other. I followed them up and found they led to the hallwindow, where Boots had worn all the snow away while waiting.
Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred yards ormore down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced round, wherethe snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle, and,finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me that Iwas not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane, and anotherlittle smudge of blood showed that it was he who had been hurt.
When he came to the highroad at the other end, I found that thepavement had been cleared, so there was an end to that clue.
“On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember,the sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and Icould at once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguishthe outline of an instep where the wet foot had been placed incoming in. I was then beginning to be able to form an opinionas to what had occurred. A man had waited outside the window;someone had brought the gems; the deed had been overseenby your son; he had pursued the thief; had struggled with him;they had each tugged at the coronet, their united strengthcausing injuries which neither alone could have effected. He hadreturned with the prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of hisopponent. So far I was clear. The question now was, who was theman and who was it brought him the coronet?
“It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded theimpossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be thetruth. Now, I knew that it was not you who had brought it down,so there only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were themaids, why should your son allow himself to be accused in theirplace? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his cousin,however, there was an excellent explanation why he should retainher secret—the more so as the secret was a disgraceful one. WhenI remembered that you had seen her at that window, and how shehad fainted on seeing the coronet again, my conjecture became acertainty.
“And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently,for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which shemust feel to you? I knew that you went out little, and that yourcircle of friends was a very limited one. But among them was SirGeorge Burnwell. I had heard of him before as being a man of evilreputation among women. It must have been he who wore thoseboots and retained the missing gems. Even though he knew thatArthur had discovered him, he might still flatter himself that hewas safe, for the lad could not say a word without compromisinghis own family.
“Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures Itook next. I went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George’s house,managed to pick up an acquaintance with his valet, learned thathis master had cut his head the night before, and, finally, at theexpense of six shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of his castoffshoes. With these I journeyed down to Streatham and saw thatthey exactly fitted the tracks.”
“I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening,”
said Mr. Holder.