But what other is there?

　　"Have they thought of looking outside the house?"

　　"Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden hasalready been minutely examined."

　　"Now, my dear sir," said Holmes, "is it not obvious to you nowthat this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you orthe police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you to be asimple case; to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider what isinvolved by your theory. You suppose that your son came down fromhis bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room, opened yourbureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main force a small portionof it, went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of thethirty-nine, with such skill that nobody can find them, and thenreturned with the other thirty-six into the room in which he exposedhimself to the greatest danger of being discovered. I ask you now,is such a theory tenable?"

　　"But what other is there?" cried the banker with a gesture ofdespair. "If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain them?""It is our task to find that out," replied Holmes; "so now, if youplease, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, and devotean hour to glancing a little more closely into details."My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition,which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy weredeeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I confess thatthe guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be as obvious as itdid to his unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes'sjudgment that I felt that there must be some grounds for hope aslong as he was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He hardlyspoke a word the whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat withhis chin upon his breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk inthe deepest thought. Our client appeared to have taken fresh heartat the little glimpse of hope which had been presented to him, andhe even broke into a desultory chat with me over his business affairs.A short railway journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, themodest residence of the great financier.

　　Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing backa little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-cladlawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed theentrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket, which led intoa narrow path between two neat hedges stretching from the road tothe kitchen door, and forming the tradesmen's entrance. On the leftran a lane which led to the stables, and was not itself within thegrounds at all, being a public, though little used, thoroughfare.Holmes left us standing at the door and walked slowly all round thehouse, across the front, down the tradesmen's path, and so round bythe garden behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holderand I went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until he shouldreturn. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and ayoung lady came in. She was rather above the middle height, slim, withdark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against the absolutepallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever seen such deadlypaleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were bloodless, but hereyes were flushed with crying. As she swept silently into the room sheimpressed me with a greater sense of grief than the banker had done inthe morning, and it was the more striking in her as she wasevidently a woman of strong character, with immense capacity forself-restraint. Disregarding my presence, she went straight to heruncle and passed her hand over his head with a sweet womanly caress."You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have younot, dad?" she asked.