The Musgrave Ritual - Page 2

I could see that it was already a third
full of bundles of paper tied up with red tape into
separate packages.

"There are cases enough here, Watson," said he,
looking at me with mischievous eyes. "I think that if
you knew all that I had in this box you would ask me
to pull some out instead of putting others in."

"These are the records of your early work, then?" I
asked. "I have often wished that I had notes of those
cases."

"Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before
my biographer had come to glorify me." He lifted
bundle after bundle in a tender, caressing sort of
way. "They are not all successes, Watson," said he.
"But there are some pretty little problems among them.
Here's the record of the Tarleton murders, and the
case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure
of the old Russian woman, and the singular affair of
the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of
Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife.
And here--ah, now, this really is something a little
recherché."

He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and
brought up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such
as children's toys are kept in. From within he
produced a crumpled piece of paper, and old-fashioned
brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string
attached to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.

"Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?" he
asked, smiling at my expression.

"It is a curious collection."

"Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will
strike you as being more curious still."

"These relics have a history then?"

"So much so that they are history."

"What do you mean by that?"

Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid
them along the edge of the table. Then re reseated
himself in his chair and looked them over with a gleam
of satisfaction in his eyes.

"These," said he, "are all that I have left to remind
me of the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual."

I had heard him mention the case more than once,
though I had never been able to gather the details.
"I should be so glad," said I, "if you would give me
an account of it."

"And leave the litter as it is?" he cried,
mischievously. "Your tidiness won't bear much strain
after all, Watson. But I should be glad that you
should add this case to your annals, for there are
points in it which make it quite unique in the
criminal records of this or, I believe, of any other
country. A collection of my trifling achievements
would certainly be incomplete which contained no
account of this very singular business.

"You may remember how the affair of the Gloria Scott,