“You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father wasa school-master in Chesterfield， where I received an excellenteducation. I travelled in my youth， took to the stage， and finallybecame a reporter on an evening paper in London. One day myeditor wished to have a series of articles upon begging in themetropolis， and I volunteered to supply them. There was thepoint from which all my adventures started. It was only by tryingbegging as an amateur that I could get the facts upon which tobase my articles. When an actor I had， of course， learned all thesecrets of making up， and had been famous in the green-roomfor my skill. I took advantage now of my attainments. I paintedmy face， and to make myself as pitiable as possible I made a goodscar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by the aid of a smallslip of flesh-coloured plaster. Then with a red head of hair， and anappropriate dress， I took my station in the business part of thecity， ostensibly as a match-seller but really as a beggar. For sevenhours I plied my trade， and when I returned home in the eveningI found to my surprise that I had received no less than 26s. 4d.
“I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until，some time later， I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ servedupon me for ￡25. I was at my wit’s end where to get the money，but a sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight’s grace fromthe creditor， asked for a holiday from my employers， and spent thetime in begging in the City under my disguise. In ten days I hadthe money and had paid the debt.
“Well， you can imagine how hard it was to settle down toarduous work at ￡2 a week when I knew that I could earn asmuch in a day by smearing my face with a little paint， laying mycap on the ground， and sitting still. It was a long fight betweenmy pride and the money， but the dollars won at last， and I threwup reporting and sat day after day in the corner which I had firstchosen， inspiring pity by my ghastly face and filling my pocketswith coppers. Only one man knew my secret. He was the keeperof a low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam Lane， whereI could every morning emerge as a squalid beggar and in theevenings transform myself into a well-dressed man about town.
This fellow， a Lascar， was well paid by me for his rooms， so that Iknew that my secret was safe in his possession.
“Well， very soon I found that I was saving considerable sumsof money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of Londoncould earn ￡700 a year—which is less than my average takings—but I had exceptional advantages in my power of making up， andalso in a facility of repartee， which improved by practice and mademe quite a recognised character in the City. All day a stream ofpennies， varied by silver， poured in upon me， and it was a very badday in which I failed to take ￡2.
“As I grew richer I grew more ambitious， took a house inthe country， and eventually married， without anyone having asuspicion as to my real occupation. My dear wife knew that I hadbusiness in the City. She little knew what.
“Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in myroom above the opium den when I looked out of my window andsaw， to my horror and astonishment， that my wife was standingin the street， with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry ofsurprise， threw up my arms to cover my face， and， rushing to myconfidant， the Lascar， entreated him to prevent anyone fromcoming up to me. I heard her voice downstairs， but I knew thatshe could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes， pulled onthose of a beggar， and put on my pigments and wig. Even a wife’seyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But then it occurredto me that there might be a search in the room， and that theclothes might betray me. I threw open the window， reopeningby my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself inthe bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat， which wasweighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it fromthe leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of thewindow， and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clotheswould have followed， but at that moment there was a rush ofconstables up the stair， and a few minutes after I found， rather， Iconfess， to my relief， that instead of being identified as Mr. NevilleSt. Clair， I was arrested as his murderer.
“I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. Iwas determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible， andhence my preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife wouldbe terribly anxious， I slipped off my ring and confided it to theLascar at a moment when no constable was watching me， togetherwith a hurried scrawl， telling her that she had no cause to fear.”
“That note only reached her yesterday，” said Holmes.
“Good God！ What a week she must have spent！”
“The police have watched this Lascar，” said Inspector Bradstreet，“and I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to post aletter unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor customerof his， who forgot all about it for some days.”
“That was it，” said Holmes， nodding approvingly； “I have nodoubt of it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging？”
“Many times； but what was a fine to me？”
“It must stop here， however，” said Bradstreet. “If the police areto hush this thing up， there must be no more of Hugh Boone.”
“I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man cantake.”
“In that case I think that it is probable that no further stepsmay be taken. But if you are found again， then all must come out.
I am sure， Mr. Holmes， that we are very much indebted to you forhaving cleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach yourresults.”
“I reached this one，” said my friend， “by sitting upon five pillowsand consuming an ounce of shag. I think， Watson， that if we driveto Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast.”
The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle