"And this man?"

"Is Dr. Holcomb!"

We all of us started. We had every one given the doctor up as
dead. The very presence of Watson was tragedy. We did not doubt
that he had been through some terrible experience. There are
things in the world that may not be unriddled. Some power, some
sinister thing was reaching for his vitality. What did he know
about the professor? Dr. Holcomb had been a long time dead.

"Gentlemen. You must hear my story; I haven't long to tell it.
However, before I start here is a proof for a beginning."

He tossed the ring upon the table.

It was Hobart who picked it up. A beautiful stone, like a
sapphire; blue but uncut and of a strange pellucid transparency--a
jewel undoubtedly; but of a kind we have never seen. We all of us
examined it, and were all, I am afraid, a bit disappointed. It was
a stone and nothing else.

Watson watched us. The waiter had brought more brandy, and Watson
was sipping it, not because he liked it, he said, but just to keep
himself at the proper lift.

"You don't understand it, eh? You see nothing? Hobart, have you a
match? There, that's it; now give me the ring. See--" He struck
the match and held the flame against the jewel. "Gentlemen, there
is no need for me to speak. The stone will give you a volume. It's