Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) (1083 page)

ENID
: No, I don’t think it was.

HOLMES
: Very interesting. Most interesting and instructive. And this bell-pull — where does it communicate with?

ENID
: It does not work.

HOLMES
: But if you want to ring?

ENID
: There is another over here.

HOLMES
: Then why this one?

ENID
: I don’t know. There were some changes after we came here.

HOLMES
: Quite a burst of activity, apparently. It took some strange shapes. (
Standing on the bed
.) You may be interested to know that the bell-rope ends in a brass hook. No wire attachment; it is a dummy. Dear me! how very singular. I see a small screen above it, which covers a ventilator, I suppose?

ENID
: Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is a ventilator.

HOLMES
: Curious fad to ventilate one room into another when one could as well get the open air. Most original man, the architect. Very singular indeed. There is no means of opening the flap from here; it must open on the other side.

WATSON
: What do you make of it, Holmes?

HOLMES
: Suggestive, my dear Watson, very suggestive. Might I trouble you for your knife? With your permission, Miss Stonor, I will make a slight alteration. (
Stands on bed-head and cuts the bell-pull
.)

WATSON
: Why do you do that, Holmes?

HOLMES
: Dangerous, Watson, dangerous. Bear in mind that this opening, concealed by a flap of wood, leads into the room of our cheery Anglo-Indian neighbour. I repeat the adjective, Watson — Anglo-Indian.

WATSON
: Well, Holmes?

HOLMES
: The bed is clamped so that it cannot be shifted. He has a dummy bell-pull which leads to the bed. He has a hole above it which opens on his room. He is an Anglo-Indian doctor. Do you make nothing of all this? The music, too? The music. What is the music?

WATSON
: A signal, Holmes.

HOLMES
: A signal! A signal to whom?

WATSON
: An accomplice.

HOLMES
: Exactly. An accomplice who could enter a room with locked doors — an accomplice who could give a sure death which leaves no trace. An accomplice who can only be attracted back by music.

ENID
: Hush! he is gone to his room.

(
A door is heard to close outside.
)

Listen! The door is shut.

HOLMES
(
as Watson is about to take up lamp
): Keep the lamp covered, so that if the ventilator is opened no light will show. He must think the girl is asleep. Keep the dark lantern handy. We must wait in the dark. I fancy we shall not have long to wait.

ENID
: I am so frightened.

HOLMES
: It is too much for you.

WATSON
: Can I do anything, Holmes?

HOLMES
: You can hand me my hunting-crop. Hush! What’s that?

(
Flute music is heard
.)

My stick, Watson — quick, be quick! Now take the lantern. Have you got it? When I cry, “Now!” turn it full blaze upon the top of the bell-rope. Do you understand?

WATSON
: Yes.

HOLMES
: Down that bell-rope comes the messenger of death. It guides to the girl’s pillow. Hush! the flap!

(
The flap opens, disclosing a small square of light. This light is obscured. Music a good deal louder.
)

(
Cries sharply
.) Now!

(
WATSON
turns the lantern full on to the bell-rope. A snake is half through the hole.
HOLMES
lashes at it with his stick. It disappears backwards
.)

(
The flute music stops
.)

WATSON
: It has gone.

HOLMES
: Yes, it has gone, but we know the truth.

(
A loud cry is heard
.)

WATSON
: What is that?

HOLMES
: I believe the devil has turned on its master.

(
Another cry
.)

It is in the passage. (
Throws open the door.
)

(
In the doorway is seen
DR
.
RYLOTT
in shirt and trousers, the snake round his head and neck.
)

RYLOTT
: Save me! save me!

(
RYLOTT
rushes in and falls on the floor.
WATSON
strikes at the snake as it writhes across the room.
)

WATSON
(
looking at the snake
): The brute is dead.

HOLMES
(
looking at
RYLOTT
): So is the other.

(
They both run to support the fainting lady
.) Miss Stonor, there is no more danger for you under this roof.

CURTAIN

An Evening with Sherlock Holmes

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

1910

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES

The famous Detective.

DR. WATSON

His Friend.

BILLY

Page to
MR. HOLMES.

COL. SEBASTIAN MORAN

An intellectual Criminal.

SAM MERTON

A Boxer.

THE CROWN DIAMOND

SCENE. — MR. HOLMES’S
room in Baker Street. It presents the usual features, but there is a deep bow window to it, and across there is drawn a curtain running upon a brass rod fastened across eight feet above the ground and enclosing the recess of the window.

Enter
WATSON
and
BILLY

WATSON:
Well, Billy, when will he be back?

BILLY:
I’m sure I couldn’t say sir.

WATSON:
When did you see him last?

BILLY:
I really couldn’t tell you.

WATSON:
What, you couldn’t tell me?

BILLY:
No sir. There was a clergyman looked in yesterday and there was an old bookmaker and there was a workman.

WATSON:
Well?

BILLY:
But I’m not sure they weren’t all Mr. Holmes. You see he’s very hot on a chase just now.

WATSON:
Oh!

BILLY:
He neither eats nor sleeps. Well you’ve lived with him same as me. You know what he’s like when he’s after some one.

WATSON:
I know.

BILLY:
He’s a responsibility sir, that he is. It’s a real worry to me sometimes. When I asked him if he would order dinner, he said. “Yes, I’ll have chops and mashed potatoes at 7:30 the day after to morrow.”  “Won’t you eat before then sir?” I asked. “I haven’t time, Billy. I’m busy,” said he. He gets thinner and paler and his eyes get brighter. It’s awful to see him.

WATSON:
Tut, tut, this will never do. I must certainly stop and see him.

BILLY:
Yes sir, it will ease my mind.

WATSON:
But what is he after?

BILLY:
It’s this case of the Crown Diamond.

WATSON:
What the hundred thousand pound burglary?

BILLY:
Yes, sir. They must get it back sir. Why we had the Prime Minister and the Home Secretary both sitting on that very sofa. Mr. Holmes promised he’d do his very best for them. Quite nice he was to them. Put them at their ease in a moment.

WATSON:
Dear me! I’ve read about it in the paper. But I say, Billy, what have you been doing to the room? What’s this curtain?

BILLY:
I don’t know, sir. Mr. Holmes had it put there three days ago. But we’ve got something funny behind it.

WATSON:
Something funny?

BILLY
(laughing)
: Yes, sir. He had it made.

(
BILLY
goes to the curtain and draws it across, disclosing a wax image of Holmes seated in a chair, back to the audience.)

WATSON:
Good heavens, Billy!

BILLY:
Yes, sir. It’s like him, sir.
(Picks the head off and exhibits it.)

WATSON:
It’s wonderful! But what’s it for, Billy?

BILLY:
You see, sir, he’s anxious that those who watch him should think he’s at home sometimes when he isn’t. There’s the bell, sir.
(Replaces head, draws curtain.)
I must go.

(
BILLY
goes out.)

(
WATSON
sits down, lights a cigarette, and opens a paper. Enter a tall, bent
OLD WOMAN
in black with veil and side-curls.)

WATSON
(rising)
: Good day, Ma’m.

WOMAN:
You’re not Mr. Holmes?

WATSON:
No, Ma’m. I’m his friend, Dr. Watson.

WOMAN:
I knew you couldn’t be Mr. Holmes. I’d always heard he was a handsome man.

WATSON
(aside)
: Upon my word!

WOMAN:
But I must see him at once.

WATSON:
I assure you he is not in.

WOMAN:
I don’t believe you.

WATSON:
What!

WOMAN:
You have a sly, deceitful face — oh, yes, a wicked, scheming face. Come, young man, where is he?

WATSON:
Really, Madam ... !

WOMAN:
Very well, I’ll find him for myself. He’s in there, I believe.  
(Walks toward bedroom door.)

WATSON
(rising and crossing)
: That is his bedroom. Really, Madam, this is outrageous!

WOMAN:
I wonder what he keeps in this safe.

(She approaches it, and as she does so the lights go out, and the room is in darkness save for “DON’T TOUCH” in red fire over the safe. Four red lights spring up, and between them the inscription “DON’T TOUCH!” After a few seconds the lights go on again, and
HOLMES
is standing beside
WATSON
.)

WATSON:
Good heavens, Holmes!

HOLMES:
Neat little alarm, is it not, Watson? My own invention. You tread on a loose plank and so connect the circuit, or I can turn it on myself. It prevents inquisitive people becoming too inquisitive. When I come back I know if any one has been fooling with my things. It switches off again automatically, as you saw.

WATSON:
But my dear fellow, why this disguise?

HOLMES:
A little comic relief, Watson. When I saw you sitting there looking so solemn, I really couldn’t help it. But I assure you there is nothing comic in the business I am engaged upon. Good heavens!
(Rushes across room, and draws curtain, which has been left partly open.)

WATSON:
Why, what is it?

HOLMES:
Danger, Watson. Airguns, Watson. I’m expecting something this evening.

WATSON:
Expecting what, Holmes?

HOLMES
(lighting pipe)
: Expecting to be murdered, Watson.

WATSON:
No, no, you are joking, Holmes!

HOLMES:
Even my limited sense of humour could evolve a better joke than that, Watson. No, it is a fact. And in case it should come off — it’s about a two to one chance — it would perhaps be as well that you should burden your memory with the name and address of the murderer.

WATSON:
Holmes!

HOLMES:
You can give it to Scotland Yard with my love and a parting blessing. Moran is the name. Colonel Sebastian Moran. Write it down, Watson, write it down! 136, Moorside Gardens, N.W. Got it?

WATSON:
But surely something can be done, Holmes. Couldn’t you have this fellow arrested?

HOLMES:
Yes, Watson, I could. That’s what’s worrying him so.

WATSON:
But why don’t you?

HOLMES:
Because I don’t know where the diamond is.

WATSON:
What diamond?

HOLMES:
Yes, yes, the great yellow Crown Diamond, seventy seven carats, lad, and without flaw. I have two fish in the net. But I haven’t got the stone there. And what’s the use of taking them? It’s the stone I’m after.

WATSON:
Is this Colonel Moran one of the fish in the net?

HOLMES:
Yes, and he’s a shark. He bites. The other is Sam Merton the boxer. Not a bad fellow, Sam, but the Colonel has used him. Sam’s not a shark. He’s a big silly gudgeon. But he’s flopping about in my net, all the same.

WATSON:
Where is this Colonel Moran?

HOLMES:
I’ve been at his elbow all morning. Once he picked up my parasol. “By your leave, Ma’m,” said he. Life is full of whimsical happenings. I followed him to old Straubenzee’s workshop in the Minories. Straubenzee made the airgun — fine bit of work, I understand.

WATSON:
An airgun?

HOLMES:
The idea was to shoot me through the window. I had to put up that curtain. By the way, have you seen the dummy?
(Draws curtain.)

(
WATSON
nods.)

Ah! Billy has been showing you the sights. It may get a bullet through its beautiful wax head at any moment.

(Enter
BILLY
.)

Well, Billy?

BILLY:
Colonel Sebastian Moran, sir.

HOLMES:
Ah! the man himself. I rather expected it. Grasp the nettle, Watson. A man of nerve! He felt my toe on his heels.
(Looks out of window.)
And there is Sam Merton in the street — the faithful but fatuous Sam. Where is the Colonel, Billy?

BILLY:
Waiting-room, sir.

HOLMES:
Show him up when I ring.

BILLY:
Yes, sir.

HOLMES:
Oh, by the way, Billy, if I am not in the room show him in just the same.

BILLY:
Very good, sir.

(
BILLY
goes out.)

WATSON:
I’ll stay with you, Holmes.

HOLMES:
No, my dear fellow, you would be horribly in the way
(Goes to the table and scribbles a note.)

WATSON:
He may murder you.

HOLMES:
I shouldn’t be surprised.

WATSON:
I can’t possibly leave you.

HOLMES:
Yes, you can, my dear Watson, for you’ve always played the game, and I am very sure that you will play it to end. Take this note to Scotland Yard. Come back with the police. The fellow’s arrest will follow.

WATSON:
I’ll do that with joy.

HOLMES:
And before you return I have just time to find where the diamond is.
(Rings bell.)
This way, Watson. We’ll go together. I rather want to see my shark without his seeing me.

(
WATSON
and
HOLMES
go into the bedroom.)

(Enter
BILLY
and
COLONEL SEBASTIAN MORAN
, who is a fierce big man, flashily dressed, with a heavy cudgel.)

BILLY:
Colonel Sebastian Moran.

(
BILLY
goes out.)

(
COLONEL MORAN
looks round, advances slowly into the room and starts as he sees the dummy figure sitting in the window. He stares at it, then crouches, grips his stick, and advances on tip-toe. When close to the figure he raises his stick.
HOLMES
comes quickly out of the bedroom door.)

HOLMES:
Don’t break it, Colonel, don’t break it.

COLONEL
(staggering back)
: Good Lord!

HOLMES:
It’s such a pretty little thing. Tavernier, the French modeller, made it. He is as good at waxwork as Straubenzee is at airguns.
(Shuts curtains.)

COLONEL:
Airguns, sir. Airguns! What do you mean?

HOLMES:
Put your hat and stick on the side table. Thank you. Pray take a seat. Would you care to put your revolver out also? Oh, very good, if you prefer to sit upon it.