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    The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
    The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
    The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
    Ebook38 pages1 hour

    The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet

    By Arthur Conan Doyle

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    About this ebook

    In The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet, a banker, Mr. Alexander Holder, makes a loan of 50,000 pounds to a socially prominent client, who leaves a beryl coronet - one of the most valuable public possessions in existence - as collateral. Feeling that he must not leave this rare and precious piece of jewelry in his personal safe at the bank, he takes it home with him. Awakened by a noise in the night, he is horrified to see his son playing with the coronet and apparently trying to bend it. Three beryls are now missing from it. In a panic, Mr. Holder travels to see Holmes, who agrees to take the case.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamscape Media
    Release dateAug 1, 2017
    ISBN9781974995011
    Author

    Arthur Conan Doyle

    Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1859. Before starting his writing career, Doyle attended medical school, where he met the professor who would later inspire his most famous creation, Sherlock Holmes. A Study in Scarlet was Doyle's first novel; he would go on to write more than sixty stories featuring Sherlock Holmes. He died in England in 1930.

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    • 4/5
      A Streatham banker consults Holmes when jewels disappear from a nearly priceless beryl coronet he was keeping as collateral for a loan. The banker didn’t want to leave such a valuable item in the bank, so he took it to his home for safe keeping. He made the mistake of telling his family at dinner that the coronet was in the house. To his horror, he woke up during the night to find his son in his room, with the damaged coronet in his hands. He’s convinced his son is guilty of theft, but since his son won’t disclose the whereabouts of the missing gems, he asks Sherlock Holmes to find them. Naturally, Holmes questions the inferences the banker has made from the facts at hand. Either I’ve read this story before, or I’m starting to think like Holmes, because I knew instantly which household member must have been involved in the theft of the jewels.

    Book preview

    The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet - Arthur Conan Doyle

    cover.jpg

    THE ADVENTURE

    OF

    THE BERYL CORONET

    By

    SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

    This edition published by Dreamscape Media LLC, 2017

    www.dreamscapeab.com * [email protected]

    1417 Timberwolf Drive, Holland, OH 43528

    877.983.7326

    dreamscape

    THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET

    Holmes, said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down the street, here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.

    My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention.

    He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed in a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat, shining hat, neat brown gaiters, and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he was running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his legs. As he ran he jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and writhed his face into the most extraordinary contortions.

    What on earth can be the matter with him? I asked. He is looking up at the numbers of the houses.

    I believe that he is coming here, said Holmes, rubbing his hands.

    Here?

    Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I think that I recognise the symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you? As he spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging.

    A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity. For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat his head against the

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