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. Praystep into the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell youeverything which you would wish to know."
The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us withhalf-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not surewhether 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 inthe sitting-room at Baker Street. Nothing had been said duringour drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion, andthe claspings and unclaspings of his hands, spoke of the nervoustension 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 myslippers before we settle this little matter of yours. Now, then!You want to know what became of those geese?"
"Yes, sir."
"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine inwhich you were interested--white, with a black bar across thetail."
Ryder quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he cried, "can you tellme where it went to?"
"It came here."
"Here?"
> "Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don't wonder thatyou should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it wasdead--the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen.I have it here in my museum."
Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiecewith his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held upthe blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold,brilliant, many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with adrawn face, uncertain whether to claim or to disown it.
"The game's up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly. "Hold up, man, oryou'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 withimpunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a littlemore human. What a shrimp it is, to be sure!"
For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandybrought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staringwith frightened eyes at his accuser.
"I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which Icould possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me.Still, that little may as well be cleared up to make the casecomplete. You had heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of theCountess of Morcar's?"
"It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it," said he in acrackling voice.
"I see--her ladyship's waiting-maid. Well, the temptation ofsudden wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it hasbeen for better men before you; but you were not very scrupulousin the means you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is themaking of a very pretty villain in you. You knew that this manHorner, the plumber, had been concerned in some such matterbefore, and that suspicion would rest the more readily upon him.What did you do, then? You made some small job in my lady'sroom--you and your confederate Cusack--and you managed that heshould be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you rifledthe jewel-case, raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate manarrested. You then--"
Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at mycompanion's knees. "For God's sake, have mercy!" he shrieked."Think of my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. Inever went wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I'llswear it on a Bible. Oh, don't bring it into court! For Christ'ssake, don't!"
"Get back into your chair!" said Holmes sternly. "It is very wellto cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of thispoor Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing."
"I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then thecharge against him will break down."
"Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true accountof the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how camethe goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there liesyour only hope of safety."
Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. "I will tell youit just as it happened, sir," said he. "When Horner had beenarrested, it seemed to me that it would be best for me to getaway with the stone at once, for I did not know at what momentthe police might not take it into their heads to search me and myroom. 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'shouse. She had married a man named Oakshott, and lived in BrixtonRoad, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the way thereevery 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 downmy face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked mewhat was the matter, and why I was so pale; but I told her that Ihad been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I wentinto the back yard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it wouldbe best to do.
"I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, andhas just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had metme, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how theycould get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true tome, for I knew one or two things about him; so I made up my mindto go right on to Kilburn, where he lived, and take him into myconfidence. 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 hadgone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment beseized and searched, and there would be the stone in my waistcoatpocket. I was leaning against the wall at the time and looking atthe geese which were waddling about round my feet, and suddenlyan idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat thebest detective that ever lived.
"My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have thepick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that shewas always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and init I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed inthe yard, and behind this I drove one of the birds--a fine bigone, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying its billopen, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my fingercould reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone passalong its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flappedand struggled, and out came my sister to know what was thematter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose andfluttered off among the others.
"'Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?' says she.
"'Well,' said I, 'you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and Iwas feeling which was the fattest.'
"'Oh,' says she, 'we've set yours aside for you--Jem's bird, wecall it. It's the big white one over yonder. There's twenty-sixof them, which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozenfor the market.'
"'Thank you, Maggie,' says I; 'but if it is all the same to you,I'd rather have that one I was handling just now.'
"'The other is a good three pound heavier,' said she, 'and wefattened 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 ityou want, then?'