ir, I fear that I am a little late, but the trains were awkward.
You wrote to me about a bust that is in my possession."

"Exactly."

"I have your letter here. You said, 'I desire to possess a copy of
Devine's Napoleon, and am prepared to pay you ten pounds for the one
which is in your possession.' Is that right?"

"Certainly."

"I was very much surprised at your letter, for I could not imagine how
you knew that I owned such a thing."

"Of course you must have been surprised, but the explanation is very
simple. Mr. Harding, of Harding Brothers, said that they had sold you
their last copy, and he gave me your address."

"Oh, that was it, was it? Did he tell you what I paid for it?"

"No, he did not."

"Well, I am an honest man, though not a very rich one. I only gave
fifteen shillings for the bust, and I think you ought to know that
before I take ten pounds from you.

"I am sure the scruple does you honour, Mr. Sandeford. But I have named
that price, so I intend to stick to it."

"Well, it is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. I brought the bust up
with me, as you asked me to do. Here it is!" He opened his bag, and at
last we saw placed upon our table a complete specimen of that bust which
we had already seen more than once in fragments.

Holmes took a paper from his pocket and laid a ten-pound note upon the
table.

"You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, in the presence of
these witnesses. It is simply to say that you transfer every possible
right that you ever had in the bust to me. I am a methodical man, you
see, and you never know what turn events might take afterwards. Thank
you, Mr. Sandeford; here is your money, and I wish you a very good
evening."

When our visitor had disappeared, Sherlock Holmes's movements were such
as to rivet our attention. He began by taking a clean white cloth from
a drawer and laying it over the table. Then he placed his newly acquired
bust in the centre of the cloth. Finally, he picked up his hunting-crop
and struck Napoleon a sharp blow on the top of the head. The figure
broke into fragments, and Holmes bent eagerly over the shattered
remains. Next instant, with a loud shout of triumph he held up one
splinter, in which a round, dark object was fixed like a plum in a
pudding.

"Gentlemen," he cried, "let me introduce you to the famous black pearl
of the Borgias."

Lestrade and I sat silent for a moment, and then, with a spontaneous
impulse, we both broke at c