‘ “We may find something else of Charles I,” I cried, as the probable meaning of the first two questions of the Ritual broke suddenly upon me. “Let me see the contents of the bag you fished from the mere.”

‘We ascended to his study, and he laid the débris before me. I could understand his regarding it as of small importance when I looked at it, for the metal was almost black, and the stones lustreless and dull. I rubbed one of them on my sleeve, however, and it glowed afterwards like a spark, in the dark hollow of my hand. The metal-work was in the form of a double-ring, but it had been bent and twisted out of its original shape.

‘ “You must bear in mind,” said I, “that the Royal party made head in England even after the death of the King, and that when they at last fled they probably left many of their most precious possessions buried behind them, with the intention of returning for them in more peaceful times.”

‘ “My ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave, was a prominent Cavalier, and the right-hand man of Charles II in his wanderings,” said my friend.

‘ “Ah, indeed!” I answered. “Well, now, I think that really should give us the last link that we wanted. I must congratulate you on coming into possession, though in rather a tragic manner, of a relic which is of great intrinsic value, but even of greater importance as an historical curiosity.”

‘ “What is it, then?” he gasped in astonishment.

‘ “It is nothing less than the ancient crown of the Kings of England.”

‘ “The crown!”

‘ “Precisely. Consider what the Ritual says. How does it run? ‘Whose was it?’ ‘His who is gone.’ That was after the execution of Charles. Then, ‘Who shall have it?’ ‘He who will come.’ That was Charles II, whose advent was already foreseen. There can, I think, be no doubt that this battered and shapeless diadem once encircled the brows of the Royal Stuarts.”

‘ “And how came it in the pond?”

‘ “Ah, that is a question which will take some time to answer,” and with that I sketched out the whole long chain of surmise and of proof which I had constructed. The twilight had closed in and the moon was shining brightly in the sky before my narrative was finished.

‘ “And how was it, then, that Charles did not get his crown when he returned?” asked Musgrave, pushing back the relic into its linen bag.

‘ “Ah, there you lay your finger upon the one point which we shall probably never be able to clear up. It is likely that the Musgrave who held the secret died in the interval, and by some oversight left this guide to his descendant without explaining the meaning of it. From that day to this it has been handed down from father to son, until at last it came within reach of a man who tore its secret out of it and lost his life in the venture.”

‘And that’s the story of the Musgrave Ritual, Watson. They have the crown down at Hurlstone—though they had some legal bother, and a considerable sum to pay before they were allowed to retain it. I am sure that if you mentioned my name they would be happy to show it to you. Of the woman nothing was ever heard, and the probability is that she got away out of England, and carried herself, and the memory of her crime, to some land beyond the seas.’