"I've had enough of you and your geese," he shouted. "I wish you

were all at the devil together. If you come pestering 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!" 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 salesman just now.

I think that I could be of assistance to you."

"You? Who are you? How could you know anything 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 endeavoring 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 interested I am in this matter."

Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. "In that

case we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this

wind-swept market-place," said he. "But pray tell me, before we

go farther, who it is that I have the pleasure 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 alias."

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!

You want to know what became of those geese?"

"Yes, sir."

"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine 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 wonder that

you should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was

dead--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 mantelpiece

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-pointed 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!"

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

Horner, 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! 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! 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 Horner 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 Kilburn, 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 suddenly

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 yard, 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 were 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 twenty-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,

I'd 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 Kilburn. 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 occurred. 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, Jem.'

"'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 off 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 breathing and

by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes's finger-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!"

"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 rattle of running

footfalls from the street.

"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his

clay pipe, "I am not retained by the police to supply their

deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another 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 solution 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."