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Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece

with his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up

the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold,

brilliant, many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a

drawn face, uncertain whether to claim or to disown it.

"The game's up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly. "Hold up, man, or

you'll be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair,

Watson. He's not got blood enough to go in for felony with

impunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a little

more human. What a shrimp it is, to be sure!"

For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy

brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring

with frightened eyes at his accuser.