importance by reason of its association, I gather that it is something beyond what might be termed a valuable book."
"Priceless!" cried Mr. Harrington Edwards. "The combined wealth of India, Mexico and Wall Street would be all too little for its purchase!"
"You are anxious to recover this book?" Holmes asked, looking at him keenly.
"My God!" shrieked the collector, rolling up his eyes and clawing the air with his hands. "Do you suppose—"
"Tut, tut!" Holmes interrupted. "I was only testing you. It is a book that might move even you, Mr. Harrington Edwards, to theft—but we may put aside that notion at once. Your emotion is too sincere, and besides you know too well the difficulties of hiding such a volume as you describe. Indeed, only a very daring man would purloin it and keep it long in his possession. Pray tell us how you came to suffer it to be lost."
Mr. Harrington Edwards seized the brandy flask, which stood at his elbow, and drained it at a gulp. With the renewed strength thus obtained, he continued his story:
"As I have said, Sir Nathaniel forced me to accept the loan of the book, much against my
