7 to i I'd get on her."

He paused:

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"Was it my fancy now or did I hear you

mention the name of a heathen god?

Hercules, you said, and glory be to God,

there's a Hercules running in the threethirty

tomorrow."

"My friend," said Hercule Poirot, "put

your money on that horse. I tell you this,

Hercules cannot fail."

And it is certainly true that on the

following day Mr. Rosslyn's Hercules

very unexpectedly won the Boynan Stakes,

starting price 60 to i.

VIII

Deftly Hercule Poirot unwrapped the

neatly done-up parcel. First the brown

paper, then the wadding, lastly the tissue

paper.

On the desk in front of Emery Power

he placed a gleaming golden cup. Chased on

it was a tree bearing apples of green

emeralds.

The financier drew a deep breath. He

said:

"I congratulate you, M. Poirot."

Hercule Poirot bowed.

Emery Power stretched out a hand. He

touched the rim of the goblet, drawing his

412

finger round it. He said in a deep voice:

"Mine!"

Hercule Poirot agreed.

"Yours!"

The other gave a sigh. He leaned back

in his chair. He said in a businesslike

voice:

"Where did you find it ?"

Hercule Poirot said:

"I found it on an altar."

Emery Power stared.

Poirot went on:

"Casey's daughter was a nun. She was

about to take her final vows at the time of

her father's death. She was an ignorant

but a devout girl. The cup was hidden in

her father's house in Liverpool. She took

it to the Convent wanting, I think, to atone

for her father's sins. She gave it to be used

to the glory of God. I do not think that the

nuns themselves ever realised its value.

They took it, probably, for a family heirloom.

In their eyes it was a chalice and

they used it as such."

Emery Power said:

"An extraordinary story!" He added:

"What made you think of going there ?"

Poirot shrugged his shoulders.

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"Perhaps—a process of elimination.

And then there was the extraordinary

fact that no one had ever tried to dispose

of the cup. That looked, you see, as though

it were in a place where ordinary material

values did not apply. I remembered that

Patrick Casey's daughter was a nun.31

Power said heartily:

"Well, as I said before, I congratulate

you. Let me know your fee and I'll write

you a cheque."

Hercule Poirot said:

"There is no fee."

The other stared at him.

"What do you mean ?"

"Did you ever read fairy stories when

you were a child ? The King in them would

say: 'Ask of me what you will" ?"

"So you are asking something ?"

"Yes, but not money. Merely a simple

request."

"Well, what is it ? D'you want a tip for

the markets ?"

"That would be only money in another

form. My request is much simpler than

that."

"What is it ?"

Hercule Poirot laid his hands on the cup.

414