Probably what I should have done myself. I rose and examinedcarefully the different billets of wood which were scattered roundthe floor. Almost at once I came upon what I expected. One piece,about three feet in length, had a very marked indentation at oneend, while several were flattened at the sides as if they had beencompressed by some considerable weight. Evidently, as they haddragged the stone up they had thrust the chunks of wood into thechink, until at last, when the opening was large enough to crawlthrough, they would hold it open by a billet placed lengthwise,which might very well become indented at the lower end, sincethe whole weight of the stone would press it down on to the edgeof this other slab. So far I was still on safe ground.
“And now how was I to proceed to reconstruct this midnightdrama? Clearly, only one could fit into the hole, and that one wasBrunton. The girl must have waited above. Brunton then unlockedthe box, handed up the contents presumably—since they were notto be found—and then—and then what happened?
“What smouldering fire of vengeance had suddenly sprunginto flame in this passionate Celtic woman’s soul when she sawthe man who had wronged her—wronged her, perhaps, far morethan we suspected—in her power? Was it a chance that the woodhad slipped, and that the stone had shut Brunton into what hadbecome his sepulchre? Had she only been guilty of silence as to hisfate? Or had some sudden blow from her hand dashed the supportaway and sent the slab crashing down into its place? Be that as itmight, I seemed to see that woman’s figure still clutching at hertreasure trove and flying wildly up the winding stair, with her earsringing perhaps with the muffled screams from behind her andwith the drumming of frenzied hands against the slab of stonewhich was choking her faithless lover’s life out.
“Here was the secret of her blanched face, her shaken nerves,her peals of hysterical laughter on the next morning. But whathad been in the box? What had she done with that? Of course, itmust have been the old metal and pebbles which my client had744 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
dragged from the mere. She had thrown them in there at the firstopportunity to remove the last trace of her crime.
“For twenty minutes I had sat motionless, thinking the matterout. Musgrave still stood with a very pale face, swinging his lanternand peering down into the hole.
“ ‘These are coins of Charles the First,’ said he, holding out thefew which had been in the box; ‘you see we were right in fixing ourdate for the Ritual.’
“ ‘We may find something else of Charles the First,’ I cried,as the probable meaning of the first two questions of the Ritualbroke suddenly upon me. ‘Let me see the contents of the bagwhich you fished from the mere.’
“We ascended to his study, and he laid the debris before me.
could understand his regarding it as of small importance whenlooked at it, for the metal was almost black and the stoneslustreless and dull. I rubbed one of them on my sleeve, however,and it glowed afterwards like a spark in the dark hollow of myhand. The metal work was in the form of a double ring, but it hadbeen bent and twisted out of its original shape.
“ ‘You must bear in mind,’ said I, ‘that the royal party madehead in England even after the death of the king, and that whenthey at last fled they probably left many of their most preciouspossessions buried behind them, with the intention of returningfor them in more peaceful times.’
“ ‘My ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave, was a prominent Cavalierand the right-hand man of Charles the Second in his wanderings,’
said my friend.
“ ‘Ah, indeed!’ I answered. ‘Well now, I think that really shouldgive us the last link that we wanted. I must congratulate you oncoming into the possession, though in rather a tragic mannerof a relic which is of great intrinsic value, but of even greaterimportance as an historical curiosity.’
“ ‘What is it, then?’ he gasped in astonishment.
“ ‘It is nothing less than the ancient crown of the kings ofEngland.’
“ ‘The crown!’
“ ‘Precisely. Consider what the Ritual says. How does it run?
Whose was it?” “His who is gone.” That was after the executionof Charles. Then, “Who shall have it?” “He who will come.” Thatwas Charles the Second, whose advent was already foreseen. Therecan, I think, be no doubt that this battered and shapeless diademonce encircled the brows of the royal Stuarts.’
“ ‘And how came it in the pond?’
“ ‘Ah, that is a question that will take some time to answer.’ Andwith that I sketched out to him the whole long chain of surmiseMemoirs of Sherlock Holmes 745
and of proof which I had constructed. The twilight had closed inand the moon was shining brightly in the sky before my narrativewas finished.
“ ‘And how was it then that Charles did not get his crown whenhe returned?’ asked Musgrave, pushing back the relic into its linenbag.
“ ‘Ah, there you lay your finger upon the one point whichwe shall probably never be able to clear up. It is likely that theMusgrave who held the secret died in the interval, and by someoversight left this guide to his descendant without explaining themeaning of it. From that day to this it has been handed down fromfather to son, until at last it came within reach of a man who toreits secret out of it and lost his life in the venture.’
“And that’s the story of the Musgrave Ritual, Watson. They havethe crown down at Hurlstone—though they had some legal botherand a considerable sum to pay before they were allowed to retainit. I am sure that if you mentioned my name they would be happyto show it to you. Of the woman nothing was ever heard, and theprobability is that she got away out of England and carried herselfand the memory of her crime to some land beyond the seas.”