[adapted]

by
Arthur Conan Doyle

“Holmes,” said I as I stood one morning in our front window looking down the street, “here is a crazy man coming along. It seems pretty sad that his family should let him go out alone.”

My friend got up slowly from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his bathrobe, looking over my shoulder. It was a bright, cold February morning, and the snow from the day before still lay deep on the ground, shining brightly in the winter sun.

Down the centre of Baker Street it had been pressed into a brown soft line by the traffic, but at each side and on the piled-up edges of the footpaths it still lay as white as when it fell.

The grey pavement had been cleaned and cleared, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer people than usual. In fact, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming except the one gentleman whose strange behavior had caught my attention.

He was a man of about fifty, tall, plump, and important-looking, with a big face with strong features and a strong body. He was dressed in a dark yet fine style, in a black coat, shining hat, neat brown leg covers, and well-made light grey trousers.

But his actions were very different from the smart look of his clothes and face, for he was running hard, with small jumps now and then, like those a tired man makes when he is not used to making his legs work hard. As he ran he moved his hands up and down quickly, shook his head, and twisted his face into very strange shapes.

“What is wrong with him?” I asked. “He is looking at the numbers on the houses.”

“I believe that he is coming here,” said Holmes, rubbing his hands.

“Here?”

“Yes; I think he is coming to ask me for help in my work. I think that I recognize the signs. Ha! did I not tell you?” As he spoke, the man, breathing hard, ran to our door and pulled our bell until the whole house was full of loud ringing.

A few moments later he was in our room, still breathing hard, still waving his hands, but with such a fixed look of sadness and hopelessness in his eyes that our smiles were changed at once to fear and pity.

For a while he could not get his words out, but moved his body from side to side and pulled at his hair like someone who has been driven to the very edge of his mind.

Then, suddenly jumping to his feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we both ran to him and pulled him away to the middle of the room. Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the comfortable chair and, sitting beside him, patted his hand and talked with him in the calm, gentle tones which he knew so well how to use.

“You have come to me to tell your story, haven’t you?” he said. “You are tired from your hurry. Please wait until you have calmed yourself, and then I will be very happy to look at any small problem which you may bring to me.”

The man sat for a minute or more with his chest moving up and down, trying to control his feelings. Then he wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, pressed his lips together, and turned his face to us.

“You probably think I am mad?” he said.

“I see you have had a big problem,” said Holmes.

“God knows I have! — a trouble that is enough to make me lose my mind, so sudden and so terrible is it. Public shame I might have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet had a stain.

“Private trouble also happens to every man; but the two coming together, and in so terrible a way, have been enough to upset me deeply. Besides, it is not only me. The most important people in the country may suffer unless some way is found out of this terrible problem.”

“Please calm yourself, sir,” said Holmes, “and let me have a clear story of who you are and what it is that has happened to you.”

“My name,” said our visitor, “is probably familiar to you. I am Alexander Holder, of the bank Holder & Stevenson, of Threadneedle Street.”

The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the main partner in the second biggest private bank in the City of London. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the leading citizens of London to this very sad state? We waited, very curious, until, with another effort, he got ready to tell his story.

“I feel that time is important,” he said; “that is why I came here quickly when the police inspector said that I should get your help. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried from there on foot, for the taxis go slowly through this snow. That is why I was so out of breath, because I am a man who does very little exercise. I feel better now, and I will tell you the facts as briefly and as clearly as I can.

“Of course, you know that in a successful bank as much depends on us being able to find profitable investments for our money as on increasing our customers and the number of our people who put money in our bank.

“One of our best ways of using money is in the form of loans, where the security is very safe. We have done a lot in this way during the last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have lent large amounts of money on the security of their pictures, libraries, or silver.

“Yesterday morning I was sitting in my office at the bank when a card was brought in to me by one of the workers.

“I jumped when I saw the name, for it was the name of no one else but — well, maybe even to you I should say no more than that it was a name that is known in every home all over the world — one of the highest, most noble, most honored names in England.

“I was very pleased by the honour and tried, when he came in, to say so, but he began to talk about business at once, like a man who wants to hurry quickly through an unpleasant job.

“‘Mr. Holder,’ he said, ‘I have been told that you often lend money.’

“‘The company does that when the guarantee is good.’ I answered.

“‘It is really necessary to me,’ he said, ‘that I should have £50,000 right away. I could, of course, borrow such a small amount ten times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it a business matter and to do that business myself. In my position you can easily understand that it is not wise to owe anything to other people.’

“‘For how long, may I ask, do you want this amount of money?’ I asked.

“‘Next Monday I will get a large amount of money, and I will then surely pay back what you lend, with any interest you think it is right to charge. But it is very important to me that the money is paid at once.’

“‘I would be happy to give it without more talk from my own money,’ I said, ‘but the strain would be too much for it to handle. If, on the other hand, I do it for the firm, then, to be fair to my partner, I must say that, even in your case, every careful business step should be taken.’

“‘I would much prefer to have it this way,’ he said, lifting up a square, black leather case which he had put beside his chair. ‘You have surely heard of the Beryl Coronet?’

“‘One of the most valuable things owned by the public of the empire,’ I said.

“‘Exactly.’ He opened the case, and there, set in soft, skin-coloured velvet, lay the beautiful piece of jewellery which he had named. ‘There are thirty-nine very large beryls,’ said he, ‘and the price of the gold work is impossible to measure. The smallest guess would put the value of the coronet at twice the amount that I have asked. I am ready to leave it with you as my guarantee.’

“I took the valuable case into my hands and looked in some confusion from it to my famous customer.

“‘Are you not sure about its worth?’ he asked.

“‘Not at all. I am only not sure — ’

“‘Whether it is right for me to leave it. You can stop worrying about that. I would not think of doing so if it were not completely certain that I would be able in four days to get it back. It is only a formal thing. Is the security enough?’

“‘Enough.’

“‘You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you clear proof of the trust I have in you, based on all that I have heard about you. I depend on you not only to be careful and to avoid all gossip about this but, most of all, to keep this coronet safe with every possible care because I do not need to say that big public trouble would happen if any harm came to it. Any damage to it would be almost as serious as losing it completely, for there are no beryls in the world as good as these, and it would be impossible to replace them. But I leave it with you with full trust, and I will come for it in person on Monday morning.’

“Seeing that my client was in a hurry to leave, I said nothing more but, calling for my cashier, I told him to hand over fifty £1000 notes. When I was alone again, however, with the valuable case lying on the table in front of me, I could not help thinking with some worries of the huge responsibility which it put on me.

“There was no doubt that, since it belonged to the country, a terrible scandal would happen if anything bad happened to it. I already wished I had never agreed to look after it. But it was too late to change it now, so I locked it up in my own safe and went back to my work.

“When evening came I felt that it would be unwise to leave so valuable a thing in the office behind me. Bankers’ safes had been broken open before now, and why should mine not be?

“If so, how terrible my situation would be! So, I decided that for the next few days I would always carry the case back and forth with me, so that it would never be really away from me. With this plan, I called a cab and rode to my house in Streatham, carrying the jewel with me.

“I could not breathe easily until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the drawer of my dressing room.

“And now a word about my household, Mr. Holmes, for I want you to fully understand the situation. My stable boy and my servant boy sleep outside the house, and can be left out completely.

“I have three maids who have been with me for many years and who can be trusted completely and are not doubted at all. Another, Lucy Parr, the second maid, has only worked for me a few months. She came with a very good reference, but has always pleased me.

“She is a very pretty girl and has attracted people who like her who have sometimes stood around the place. That is the only problem which we have found with her, but we believe she is a very good girl in every way.

“That is all about the servants. My family itself is so small that it will not take me long to describe it. I am a man whose wife is dead, and I have an only son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes — a very great disappointment. I have no doubt that I myself am to blame.

“People tell me that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have. When my dear wife died I felt that he was all I had to love. I could not stand to see the smile go away even for a moment from his face. I have never said no to any wish he had. Perhaps it would have been better for both of us if I had been stricter, but I meant it for the best.

“It was of course my plan that he should take my place in my business, but he was not good at business. He was wild and hard to control, and, to tell the truth, I could not trust him with large amounts of money.

“When he was young he became a member of a club for rich and noble people, and there, being very polite and pleasant, he soon became a close friend of many men who had a lot of money and liked to spend a lot.