R. Holmes & Co.. Bangs John Kendrick

but all to no purpose. From that day to this the mystery of the Cliveden plot had never been solved.

      "The following day Holmes called at the Tattersby cottage, and was fortunate enough to find Miss Tattersby at home. His previous impression as to her marvellous beauty was more than confirmed, and each moment that he talked to her she revealed new graces of manner that completed the capture of his hitherto unsusceptible heart. Miss Tattersby regretted her father's absence. He had gone, she said, to attend a secret missionary conference at Pentwllycod in Wales, and was not expected back for a week, all of which quite suited Sherlock Holmes. Convinced that, after years of waiting, his affinity had at last crossed his path, he was in no hurry for the return of that parent, who would put an instant quietus upon this affair of the heart. Manifestly the thing for him to do was to win the daughter's hand, and then intercept the father, acquaint him with his aspirations, and compel acquiescence by the force of his knowledge of Raffles's misdeed. Hence, instead of taking his departure immediately, he remained at the Goring- Streatley Inn, taking care each day to encounter Miss Tattersby on one pretext or another, hoping that their acquaintance would ripen into friendship, and then into something warmer. Nor was the hope a vain one, for when the fair Marjorie learned that it was the visitor's intention to remain in the neighborhood until her father's return, she herself bade him to make use of the old gentleman's library, to regard himself always as a welcome daytime guest. She even suggested pleasant walks through the neighboring country, little canoe trips up and down the Thames, which they might take together, of all of which Holmes promptly availed himself, with the result that, at the end of six days, both realized that they were designed for each other, and a passionate declaration followed which opened new vistas of happiness for both. Hence it was that, when the Reverend James Tattersby arrived at Goring-Streatley the following Monday night, unexpectedly, he was astounded to find sitting together in the moonlight, in the charming little English garden at the rear of his dwelling, two persons, one of whom was his daughter Marjorie and the other a young American curate to whom he had already been introduced as A. J. Raffles.

      "'We have met before, I think,' said Raffles, coldly, as his eye fell upon

      Holmes.

      "'I—er—do not recall the fact,' replied Holmes, meeting the steely stare of the home-comer with one of his own flinty glances.

      "'H'm!' ejaculated Raffles, non-plussed at the other's failure to recognize him. Then he shivered slightly. 'Suppose we go in-doors, it is a trifle chilly out here in the night air.'

      "The whole thing, the greeting, the meeting, Holmes's demeanor and all, was so admirably handled that Marjorie Tattersby never guessed the truth, never even suspected the intense dramatic quality of the scene she had just gazed upon.

      "'Yes, let us go in-doors,' she acquiesced. 'Mr. Dutton has something to say to you, papa.'

      "'So I presumed,' said Raffles, dryly. 'And something that were better said to me alone, I fancy, eh?' he added.

      "'Quite so,' said Holmes, calmly. And in-doors they went. Marjorie immediately retired to the drawing-room, and Holmes and Raffles went at once to Tattersby's study.

      "'Well?' said Raffles, impatiently, when they were seated. 'I suppose you have come to get the Dorrington seal, Mr. Holmes.'

      "'Ah—you know me, then, Mr. Raffles?' said Holmes, with a pleasant smile.

      "'Perfectly,' said Raffles. 'I knew you at Dorrington Hall the moment I set eyes on you, and, if I hadn't, I should have known later, for the night after your departure Lord Dorrington took me into his confidence and revealed your identity to me.'

      "'I am glad,' said Holmes. 'It saves me a great deal of unnecessary explanation. If you admit that you have the seal—"

      "'But I don't,' said Raffles. 'I mentioned it a moment ago, because

      Dorrington told me that was what you were after. I haven't got it, Mr.

      Holmes.'

      "'I know that,' observed Holmes, quietly. 'It is in the possession of Miss

      Tattersby, your daughter, Mr. Raffles.'

      "'She showed it to you, eh?' demanded Raffles, paling.

      "'No. She sealed a note to me with it, however,' Holmes replied.

      "'A note to you?' cried Raffles.

      "'Yes. One asking for my autograph. I have it in my possession,' said

      Holmes.

      "'And how do you know that she is the person from whom that note really came?' Raffles asked.

      "'Because I have seen the autograph which was sent in response to that request in your daughter's collection, Mr. Raffles,' said Holmes.

      "'So that you conclude—?' Raffles put in, hoarsely.

      "'I do not conclude; I begin by surmising, sir, that the missing seal of

      Lord Dorrington was stolen by one of two persons—yourself or Miss Marjorie

      Tattersby,' said Holmes, calmly.

      "'Sir!' roared Raffles, springing to his feet menacingly.

      "'Sit down, please,' said Holmes. 'You did not let me finish. I was going to add, Dr. Tattersby, that a week's acquaintance with that lovely woman, a full knowledge of her peculiarly exalted character and guileless nature, makes the alternative of guilt that affects her integrity clearly preposterous, which, by a very simple process of elimination, fastens the guilt, beyond all peradventure, on your shoulders. At any rate, the presence of the seal in this house will involve you in difficult explanations. Why is it here? How did it come here? Why are you known as the Reverend James Tattersby, the missionary, at Goring-Streatley, and as Mr. A. J. Raffles, the cricketer and man of the world, at Dorrington Hall, to say nothing of the Cliveden plate—'

      "'Damnation!' roared the Reverend James Tattersby again, springing to his feet and glancing instinctively at the long low book-shelves behind him.

      "'To say nothing,' continued Holmes, calmly lighting a cigarette, 'of the Cliveden plate now lying concealed behind those dusty theological tomes of yours which you never allow to be touched by any other hand than your own.'

      "'How did you know?' cried Raffles, hoarsely.

      "'I didn't,' laughed Holmes. 'You have only this moment informed me of the fact!'

      "There was a long pause, during which Raffles paced the floor like a caged tiger.

      "'I'm a dangerous man to trifle with, Mr. Holmes,' he said, finally. 'I can shoot you down in cold blood in a second.'

      "'Very likely,' said Holmes. 'But you won't. It would add to the difficulties in which the Reverend James Tattersby is already deeply immersed. Your troubles are sufficient, as matters stand, without your having to explain to the world why you have killed a defenceless guest in your own study in cold blood.

      "'Well—what do you propose to do?' demanded Raffles, after another pause.

      "'Marry your daughter, Mr. Raffles, or Tattersby, whatever your permanent name is—I guess it's Tattersby in this case,' said Holmes. 'I love her and she loves me. Perhaps I should apologize for having wooed and won her without due notice to you, but you doubtless will forgive that. It's a little formality you sometimes overlook yourself when you happen to want something that belongs to somebody else.'

      "What Raffles would have answered no one knows. He had no chance to reply, for at that moment Marjorie herself put her radiantly lovely little head in at the door with a 'May I come in?' and a moment later she was gathered in Holmes's arms, and the happy lovers received the Reverend James Tattersby's blessing. They were married a week later, and, as far as the world is concerned, the mystery of the Dorrington seal and that of the Cliveden plate was never solved.

      "'It is compounding a felony, Raffles,' said Holmes, after the wedding, 'but for a wife like that, hanged if I wouldn't compound the ten commandments!'

      "I hope," I ventured to put in at that point, "that the marriage ceremony was not performed by the Reverend James Tattersby."

      "Not on your life!" retorted Raffles Holmes. "My father was too fond of my mother to permit of any flaw in his title. A year later I