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diff --git a/108-h/108-h.htm~ b/108-h/108-h.htm~ deleted file mode 100644 index ed7644c..0000000 --- a/108-h/108-h.htm~ +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15539 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8"> - <title> - The Return of Sherlock Holmes | Project Gutenberg - </title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> - <style> - -body { margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; - text-align: justify } - -h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: -normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} - -h1 {font-size: 300%; - margin-top: 0.6em; - margin-bottom: 0.6em; - letter-spacing: 0.12em; - word-spacing: 0.2em; - text-indent: 0em;} -h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} -h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} -h4 {font-size: 120%;} -h5 {font-size: 110%;} - -.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ - -hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} - -p {text-indent: 1em; - margin-top: 0.25em; - margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - -.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} - -p.letter {text-indent: 0%; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; } - -p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } - -p.center {text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; } - -p.right {text-align: right; - margin-right: 10%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; } - -div.fig { display:block; - margin:0 auto; - text-align:center; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em;} - -a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} -a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} -a:hover {color:red} - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Return of Sherlock Holmes, by Arthur Conan Doyle</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Return of Sherlock Holmes</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Arthur Conan Doyle</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February, 1994 [eBook #108]<br> -[Most recently updated: February 9, 2024]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: An Anonymous Volunteer</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES ***</div> - -<div class="fig" style="width:70%;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover"> -</div> - -<h1>The Return of Sherlock Holmes</h1> - -<h2 class="no-break">by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</h2> - -<hr> - -<h2>Contents</h2> - -<table style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap01">The Adventure of the Empty House</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap02">The Adventure of the Norwood Builder</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap03">The Adventure of the Dancing Men</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap04">The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap05">The Adventure of the Priory School</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap06">The Adventure of Black Peter.</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap07">The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap08">The Adventure of the Six Napoleons</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap09">The Adventure of the Three Students</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap10">The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap11">The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap12">The Adventure of the Abbey Grange</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#chap13">The Adventure of the Second Stain</a></td> -</tr> - -</table> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap01"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE EMPTY HOUSE</h2> - - <p> - It was in the spring of the year 1894 that all London was interested, and - the fashionable world dismayed, by the murder of the Honourable Ronald - Adair under most unusual and inexplicable circumstances. The public has - already learned those particulars of the crime which came out in the - police investigation, but a good deal was suppressed upon that occasion, - since the case for the prosecution was so overwhelmingly strong that it - was not necessary to bring forward all the facts. Only now, at the end of - nearly ten years, am I allowed to supply those missing links which make up - the whole of that remarkable chain. The crime was of interest in itself, - but that interest was as nothing to me compared to the inconceivable - sequel, which afforded me the greatest shock and surprise of any event in - my adventurous life. Even now, after this long interval, I find myself - thrilling as I think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of - joy, amazement, and incredulity which utterly submerged my mind. Let me - say to that public, which has shown some interest in those glimpses which - I have occasionally given them of the thoughts and actions of a very - remarkable man, that they are not to blame me if I have not shared my - knowledge with them, for I should have considered it my first duty to do - so, had I not been barred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, - which was only withdrawn upon the third of last month. - </p> - <p> - It can be imagined that my close intimacy with Sherlock Holmes had - interested me deeply in crime, and that after his disappearance I never - failed to read with care the various problems which came before the - public. And I even attempted, more than once, for my own private - satisfaction, to employ his methods in their solution, though with - indifferent success. There was none, however, which appealed to me like - this tragedy of Ronald Adair. As I read the evidence at the inquest, which - led up to a verdict of willful murder against some person or persons - unknown, I realized more clearly than I had ever done the loss which the - community had sustained by the death of Sherlock Holmes. There were points - about this strange business which would, I was sure, have specially - appealed to him, and the efforts of the police would have been - supplemented, or more probably anticipated, by the trained observation and - the alert mind of the first criminal agent in Europe. All day, as I drove - upon my round, I turned over the case in my mind and found no explanation - which appeared to me to be adequate. At the risk of telling a twice-told - tale, I will recapitulate the facts as they were known to the public at - the conclusion of the inquest. - </p> - <p> - The Honourable Ronald Adair was the second son of the Earl of Maynooth, - at that time governor of one of the Australian colonies. Adair’s - mother had returned from Australia to undergo the operation for cataract, - and she, her son Ronald, and her daughter Hilda were living together at - 427, Park Lane. The youth moved in the best society—had, so far as - was known, no enemies and no particular vices. He had been engaged to - Miss Edith Woodley, of Carstairs, but the engagement had been broken off - by mutual consent some months before, and there was no sign that it had - left any very profound feeling behind it. For the rest, the man’s - life moved in a narrow and conventional circle, for his habits were quiet - and his nature unemotional. Yet it was upon this easy-going young - aristocrat that death came, in most strange and unexpected form, between - the hours of ten and eleven-twenty on the night of March 30, 1894. - </p> - <p> - Ronald Adair was fond of cards—playing continually, but never for - such stakes as would hurt him. He was a member of the Baldwin, the - Cavendish, and the Bagatelle card clubs. It was shown that, after dinner - on the day of his death, he had played a rubber of whist at the latter - club. He had also played there in the afternoon. The evidence of those who - had played with him—Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran—showed - that the game was whist, and that there was a fairly equal fall of the - cards. Adair might have lost five pounds, but not more. His fortune was a - considerable one, and such a loss could not in any way affect him. He had - played nearly every day at one club or other, but he was a cautious - player, and usually rose a winner. It came out in evidence that, in - partnership with Colonel Moran, he had actually won as much as four - hundred and twenty pounds in a sitting, some weeks before, from Godfrey - Milner and Lord Balmoral. So much for his recent history as it came out at - the inquest. - </p> - <p> - On the evening of the crime, he returned from the club exactly at ten. His - mother and sister were out spending the evening with a relation. The - servant deposed that she heard him enter the front room on the second - floor, generally used as his sitting-room. She had lit a fire there, and - as it smoked she had opened the window. No sound was heard from the room - until eleven-twenty, the hour of the return of Lady Maynooth and her - daughter. Desiring to say good-night, she attempted to enter her son’s - room. The door was locked on the inside, and no answer could be got to - their cries and knocking. Help was obtained, and the door forced. The - unfortunate young man was found lying near the table. His head had been - horribly mutilated by an expanding revolver bullet, but no weapon of any - sort was to be found in the room. On the table lay two banknotes for ten - pounds each and seventeen pounds ten in silver and gold, the money - arranged in little piles of varying amount. There were some figures also - upon a sheet of paper, with the names of some club friends opposite to - them, from which it was conjectured that before his death he was - endeavouring to make out his losses or winnings at cards. - </p> - <p> - A minute examination of the circumstances served only to make the case - more complex. In the first place, no reason could be given why the young - man should have fastened the door upon the inside. There was the - possibility that the murderer had done this, and had afterwards escaped by - the window. The drop was at least twenty feet, however, and a bed of - crocuses in full bloom lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earth - showed any sign of having been disturbed, nor were there any marks upon - the narrow strip of grass which separated the house from the road. - Apparently, therefore, it was the young man himself who had fastened the - door. But how did he come by his death? No one could have climbed up to - the window without leaving traces. Suppose a man had fired through the - window, he would indeed be a remarkable shot who could with a revolver - inflict so deadly a wound. Again, Park Lane is a frequented thoroughfare; - there is a cab stand within a hundred yards of the house. No one had heard - a shot. And yet there was the dead man and there the revolver bullet, - which had mushroomed out, as soft-nosed bullets will, and so inflicted a - wound which must have caused instantaneous death. Such were the - circumstances of the Park Lane Mystery, which were further complicated by - entire absence of motive, since, as I have said, young Adair was not known - to have any enemy, and no attempt had been made to remove the money or - valuables in the room. - </p> - <p> - All day I turned these facts over in my mind, endeavouring to hit upon - some theory which could reconcile them all, and to find that line of least - resistance which my poor friend had declared to be the starting-point of - every investigation. I confess that I made little progress. In the evening - I strolled across the Park, and found myself about six o’clock at the - Oxford Street end of Park Lane. A group of loafers upon the pavements, all - staring up at a particular window, directed me to the house which I had - come to see. A tall, thin man with coloured glasses, whom I strongly - suspected of being a plain-clothes detective, was pointing out some theory - of his own, while the others crowded round to listen to what he said. I - got as near him as I could, but his observations seemed to me to be - absurd, so I withdrew again in some disgust. As I did so I struck against - an elderly, deformed man, who had been behind me, and I knocked down - several books which he was carrying. I remember that as I picked them up, - I observed the title of one of them, <i>The Origin of Tree Worship</i>, and it - struck me that the fellow must be some poor bibliophile, who, either as a - trade or as a hobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. I endeavoured to - apologize for the accident, but it was evident that these books which I - had so unfortunately maltreated were very precious objects in the eyes of - their owner. With a snarl of contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw - his curved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng. - </p> - <p> - My observations of No. 427, Park Lane did little to clear up the problem in - which I was interested. The house was separated from the street by a low - wall and railing, the whole not more than five feet high. It was perfectly - easy, therefore, for anyone to get into the garden, but the window was - entirely inaccessible, since there was no waterpipe or anything which - could help the most active man to climb it. More puzzled than ever, I - retraced my steps to Kensington. I had not been in my study five minutes - when the maid entered to say that a person desired to see me. To my - astonishment it was none other than my strange old book collector, his - sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame of white hair, and his - precious volumes, a dozen of them at least, wedged under his right arm. - </p> - <p> - “You’re surprised to see me, sir,” said he, in a strange, croaking voice. - </p> - <p> - I acknowledged that I was. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’ve a conscience, sir, and when I chanced to see you go into this - house, as I came hobbling after you, I thought to myself, I’ll just step - in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that if I was a bit gruff in - my manner there was not any harm meant, and that I am much obliged to him - for picking up my books.” - </p> - <p> - “You make too much of a trifle,” said I. “May I ask how you knew who I - was?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, if it isn’t too great a liberty, I am a neighbour of yours, - for you’ll find my little bookshop at the corner of Church Street, and - very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you collect yourself, sir. Here’s - <i>British Birds</i>, and <i>Catullus</i>, and <i>The Holy War</i>—a bargain, every one - of them. With five volumes you could just fill that gap on that second - shelf. It looks untidy, does it not, sir?” - </p> - <p> - I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again, - Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I rose - to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and then it - appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my - life. Certainly a grey mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I - found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon my - lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand. - </p> - <p> - “My dear Watson,” said the well-remembered voice, “I owe you a thousand - apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected.” - </p> - <p> - I gripped him by the arms. - </p> - <p> - “Holmes!” I cried. “Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you are alive? - Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of that awful abyss?” - </p> - <p> - “Wait a moment,” said he. “Are you sure that you are really fit to discuss - things? I have given you a serious shock by my unnecessarily dramatic - reappearance.” - </p> - <p> - “I am all right, but indeed, Holmes, I can hardly believe my eyes. Good - heavens! to think that you—you of all men—should be standing - in my study.” Again I gripped him by the sleeve, and felt the thin, sinewy - arm beneath it. “Well, you’re not a spirit anyhow,” said I. “My dear chap, - I’m overjoyed to see you. Sit down, and tell me how you came alive out of - that dreadful chasm.” - </p> - <p> - He sat opposite to me, and lit a cigarette in his old, nonchalant manner. - He was dressed in the seedy frockcoat of the book merchant, but the rest - of that individual lay in a pile of white hair and old books upon the - table. Holmes looked even thinner and keener than of old, but there was a - dead-white tinge in his aquiline face which told me that his life recently - had not been a healthy one. - </p> - <p> - “I am glad to stretch myself, Watson,” said he. “It is no joke when a tall - man has to take a foot off his stature for several hours on end. Now, my - dear fellow, in the matter of these explanations, we have, if I may ask - for your cooperation, a hard and dangerous night’s work in front of us. - Perhaps it would be better if I gave you an account of the whole situation - when that work is finished.” - </p> - <p> - “I am full of curiosity. I should much prefer to hear now.” - </p> - <p> - “You’ll come with me to-night?” - </p> - <p> - “When you like and where you like.” - </p> - <p> - “This is, indeed, like the old days. We shall have time for a mouthful of - dinner before we need go. Well, then, about that chasm. I had no serious - difficulty in getting out of it, for the very simple reason that I never - was in it.” - </p> - <p> - “You never were in it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, Watson, I never was in it. My note to you was absolutely genuine. I - had little doubt that I had come to the end of my career when I perceived - the somewhat sinister figure of the late Professor Moriarty standing upon - the narrow pathway which led to safety. I read an inexorable purpose in - his grey eyes. I exchanged some remarks with him, therefore, and obtained - his courteous permission to write the short note which you afterwards - received. I left it with my cigarette-box and my stick, and I walked along - the pathway, Moriarty still at my heels. When I reached the end I stood at - bay. He drew no weapon, but he rushed at me and threw his long arms around - me. He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge - himself upon me. We tottered together upon the brink of the fall. I have - some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling, - which has more than once been very useful to me. I slipped through his - grip, and he with a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds, and - clawed the air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not - get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink, I saw him - fall for a long way. Then he struck a rock, bounded off, and splashed into - the water.” - </p> - <p> - I listened with amazement to this explanation, which Holmes delivered - between the puffs of his cigarette. - </p> - <p> - “But the tracks!” I cried. “I saw, with my own eyes, that two went down - the path and none returned.” - </p> - <p> - “It came about in this way. The instant that the Professor had - disappeared, it struck me what a really extraordinarily lucky chance Fate - had placed in my way. I knew that Moriarty was not the only man who had - sworn my death. There were at least three others whose desire for - vengeance upon me would only be increased by the death of their leader. - They were all most dangerous men. One or other would certainly get me. On - the other hand, if all the world was convinced that I was dead they would - take liberties, these men, they would soon lay themselves open, and sooner - or later I could destroy them. Then it would be time for me to announce - that I was still in the land of the living. So rapidly does the brain act - that I believe I had thought this all out before Professor Moriarty had - reached the bottom of the Reichenbach Fall. - </p> - <p> - “I stood up and examined the rocky wall behind me. In your picturesque - account of the matter, which I read with great interest some months later, - you assert that the wall was sheer. That was not literally true. A few - small footholds presented themselves, and there was some indication of a - ledge. The cliff is so high that to climb it all was an obvious - impossibility, and it was equally impossible to make my way along the wet - path without leaving some tracks. I might, it is true, have reversed my - boots, as I have done on similar occasions, but the sight of three sets of - tracks in one direction would certainly have suggested a deception. On the - whole, then, it was best that I should risk the climb. It was not a - pleasant business, Watson. The fall roared beneath me. I am not a fanciful - person, but I give you my word that I seemed to hear Moriarty’s voice - screaming at me out of the abyss. A mistake would have been fatal. More - than once, as tufts of grass came out in my hand or my foot slipped in the - wet notches of the rock, I thought that I was gone. But I struggled - upward, and at last I reached a ledge several feet deep and covered with - soft green moss, where I could lie unseen, in the most perfect comfort. - There I was stretched, when you, my dear Watson, and all your following - were investigating in the most sympathetic and inefficient manner the - circumstances of my death. - </p> - <p> - “At last, when you had all formed your inevitable and totally erroneous - conclusions, you departed for the hotel, and I was left alone. I had - imagined that I had reached the end of my adventures, but a very - unexpected occurrence showed me that there were surprises still in store - for me. A huge rock, falling from above, boomed past me, struck the path, - and bounded over into the chasm. For an instant I thought that it was an - accident, but a moment later, looking up, I saw a man’s head against the - darkening sky, and another stone struck the very ledge upon which I was - stretched, within a foot of my head. Of course, the meaning of this was - obvious. Moriarty had not been alone. A confederate—and even that - one glance had told me how dangerous a man that confederate was—had - kept guard while the Professor had attacked me. From a distance, unseen by - me, he had been a witness of his friend’s death and of my escape. He had - waited, and then making his way round to the top of the cliff, he had - endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had failed. - </p> - <p> - “I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw that grim face - look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the precursor of another - stone. I scrambled down on to the path. I don’t think I could have done it - in cold blood. It was a hundred times more difficult than getting up. But - I had no time to think of the danger, for another stone sang past me as I - hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfway down I slipped, but, - by the blessing of God, I landed, torn and bleeding, upon the path. I took - to my heels, did ten miles over the mountains in the darkness, and a week - later I found myself in Florence, with the certainty that no one in the - world knew what had become of me. - </p> - <p> - “I had only one confidant—my brother Mycroft. I owe you many - apologies, my dear Watson, but it was all-important that it should be - thought I was dead, and it is quite certain that you would not have - written so convincing an account of my unhappy end had you not yourself - thought that it was true. Several times during the last three years I have - taken up my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest your - affectionate regard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which - would betray my secret. For that reason I turned away from you this - evening when you upset my books, for I was in danger at the time, and any - show of surprise and emotion upon your part might have drawn attention to - my identity and led to the most deplorable and irreparable results. As to - Mycroft, I had to confide in him in order to obtain the money which I - needed. The course of events in London did not run so well as I had hoped, - for the trial of the Moriarty gang left two of its most dangerous members, - my own most vindictive enemies, at liberty. I travelled for two years in - Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhassa, and spending some - days with the head lama. You may have read of the remarkable explorations - of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred to you - that you were receiving news of your friend. I then passed through Persia, - looked in at Mecca, and paid a short but interesting visit to the Khalifa - at Khartoum the results of which I have communicated to the Foreign - Office. Returning to France, I spent some months in a research into the - coal-tar derivatives, which I conducted in a laboratory at Montpellier, in - the south of France. Having concluded this to my satisfaction and learning - that only one of my enemies was now left in London, I was about to return - when my movements were hastened by the news of this very remarkable Park - Lane Mystery, which not only appealed to me by its own merits, but which - seemed to offer some most peculiar personal opportunities. I came over at - once to London, called in my own person at Baker Street, threw Mrs. Hudson - into violent hysterics, and found that Mycroft had preserved my rooms and - my papers exactly as they had always been. So it was, my dear Watson, that - at two o’clock to-day I found myself in my old armchair in my own old - room, and only wishing that I could have seen my old friend Watson in the - other chair which he has so often adorned.” - </p> - <p> - Such was the remarkable narrative to which I listened on that April - evening—a narrative which would have been utterly incredible to me - had it not been confirmed by the actual sight of the tall, spare figure - and the keen, eager face, which I had never thought to see again. In some - manner he had learned of my own sad bereavement, and his sympathy was - shown in his manner rather than in his words. “Work is the best antidote - to sorrow, my dear Watson,” said he; “and I have a piece of work for us - both to-night which, if we can bring it to a successful conclusion, will - in itself justify a man’s life on this planet.” In vain I begged him to - tell me more. “You will hear and see enough before morning,” he answered. - “We have three years of the past to discuss. Let that suffice until - half-past nine, when we start upon the notable adventure of the empty - house.” - </p> - <p> - It was indeed like old times when, at that hour, I found myself seated - beside him in a hansom, my revolver in my pocket, and the thrill of - adventure in my heart. Holmes was cold and stern and silent. As the gleam - of the street-lamps flashed upon his austere features, I saw that his - brows were drawn down in thought and his thin lips compressed. I knew not - what wild beast we were about to hunt down in the dark jungle of criminal - London, but I was well assured, from the bearing of this master huntsman, - that the adventure was a most grave one—while the sardonic smile - which occasionally broke through his ascetic gloom boded little good for - the object of our quest. - </p> - <p> - I had imagined that we were bound for Baker Street, but Holmes stopped the - cab at the corner of Cavendish Square. I observed that as he stepped out - he gave a most searching glance to right and left, and at every subsequent - street corner he took the utmost pains to assure that he was not followed. - Our route was certainly a singular one. Holmes’s knowledge of the byways - of London was extraordinary, and on this occasion he passed rapidly and - with an assured step through a network of mews and stables, the very - existence of which I had never known. We emerged at last into a small - road, lined with old, gloomy houses, which led us into Manchester Street, - and so to Blandford Street. Here he turned swiftly down a narrow passage, - passed through a wooden gate into a deserted yard, and then opened with a - key the back door of a house. We entered together, and he closed it behind - us. - </p> - <p> - The place was pitch dark, but it was evident to me that it was an empty - house. Our feet creaked and crackled over the bare planking, and my - outstretched hand touched a wall from which the paper was hanging in - ribbons. Holmes’s cold, thin fingers closed round my wrist and led me - forward down a long hall, until I dimly saw the murky fanlight over the - door. Here Holmes turned suddenly to the right and we found ourselves in a - large, square, empty room, heavily shadowed in the corners, but faintly - lit in the centre from the lights of the street beyond. There was no lamp - near, and the window was thick with dust, so that we could only just - discern each other’s figures within. My companion put his hand upon my - shoulder and his lips close to my ear. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know where we are?” he whispered. - </p> - <p> - “Surely that is Baker Street,” I answered, staring through the dim window. - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. We are in Camden House, which stands opposite to our own old - quarters.” - </p> - <p> - “But why are we here?” - </p> - <p> - “Because it commands so excellent a view of that picturesque pile. Might I - trouble you, my dear Watson, to draw a little nearer to the window, taking - every precaution not to show yourself, and then to look up at our old - rooms—the starting-point of so many of your little fairy-tales? We - will see if my three years of absence have entirely taken away my power to - surprise you.” - </p> - <p> - I crept forward and looked across at the familiar window. As my eyes fell - upon it, I gave a gasp and a cry of amazement. The blind was down, and a - strong light was burning in the room. The shadow of a man who was seated - in a chair within was thrown in hard, black outline upon the luminous - screen of the window. There was no mistaking the poise of the head, the - squareness of the shoulders, the sharpness of the features. The face was - turned half-round, and the effect was that of one of those black - silhouettes which our grandparents loved to frame. It was a perfect - reproduction of Holmes. So amazed was I that I threw out my hand to make - sure that the man himself was standing beside me. He was quivering with - silent laughter. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Good heavens!” I cried. “It is marvellous.” - </p> - <p> - “I trust that age doth not wither nor custom stale my infinite variety,” - said he, and I recognized in his voice the joy and pride which the artist - takes in his own creation. “It really is rather like me, is it not?” - </p> - <p> - “I should be prepared to swear that it was you.” - </p> - <p> - “The credit of the execution is due to Monsieur Oscar Meunier, of - Grenoble, who spent some days in doing the moulding. It is a bust in wax. - The rest I arranged myself during my visit to Baker Street this - afternoon.” - </p> - <p> - “But why?” - </p> - <p> - “Because, my dear Watson, I had the strongest possible reason for wishing - certain people to think that I was there when I was really elsewhere.” - </p> - <p> - “And you thought the rooms were watched?” - </p> - <p> - “I <i>knew</i> that they were watched.” - </p> - <p> - “By whom?” - </p> - <p> - “By my old enemies, Watson. By the charming society whose leader lies in - the Reichenbach Fall. You must remember that they knew, and only they - knew, that I was still alive. Sooner or later they believed that I should - come back to my rooms. They watched them continuously, and this morning - they saw me arrive.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know?” - </p> - <p> - “Because I recognized their sentinel when I glanced out of my window. He - is a harmless enough fellow, Parker by name, a garroter by trade, and a - remarkable performer upon the jew’s-harp. I cared nothing for him. But I - cared a great deal for the much more formidable person who was behind him, - the bosom friend of Moriarty, the man who dropped the rocks over the - cliff, the most cunning and dangerous criminal in London. That is the man - who is after me to-night Watson, and that is the man who is quite unaware - that we are after <i>him</i>.” - </p> - <p> - My friend’s plans were gradually revealing themselves. From this - convenient retreat, the watchers were being watched and the trackers - tracked. That angular shadow up yonder was the bait, and we were the - hunters. In silence we stood together in the darkness and watched the - hurrying figures who passed and repassed in front of us. Holmes was silent - and motionless; but I could tell that he was keenly alert, and that his - eyes were fixed intently upon the stream of passers-by. It was a bleak and - boisterous night and the wind whistled shrilly down the long street. Many - people were moving to and fro, most of them muffled in their coats and - cravats. Once or twice it seemed to me that I had seen the same figure - before, and I especially noticed two men who appeared to be sheltering - themselves from the wind in the doorway of a house some distance up the - street. I tried to draw my companion’s attention to them; but he gave a - little ejaculation of impatience, and continued to stare into the street. - More than once he fidgeted with his feet and tapped rapidly with his - fingers upon the wall. It was evident to me that he was becoming uneasy, - and that his plans were not working out altogether as he had hoped. At - last, as midnight approached and the street gradually cleared, he paced up - and down the room in uncontrollable agitation. I was about to make some - remark to him, when I raised my eyes to the lighted window, and again - experienced almost as great a surprise as before. I clutched Holmes’s arm, - and pointed upward. - </p> - <p> - “The shadow has moved!” I cried. - </p> - <p> - It was indeed no longer the profile, but the back, which was turned - towards us. - </p> - <p> - Three years had certainly not smoothed the asperities of his temper or his - impatience with a less active intelligence than his own. - </p> - <p> - “Of course it has moved,” said he. “Am I such a farcical bungler, Watson, - that I should erect an obvious dummy, and expect that some of the sharpest - men in Europe would be deceived by it? We have been in this room two - hours, and Mrs. Hudson has made some change in that figure eight times, or - once in every quarter of an hour. She works it from the front, so that her - shadow may never be seen. Ah!” He drew in his breath with a shrill, - excited intake. In the dim light I saw his head thrown forward, his whole - attitude rigid with attention. Outside the street was absolutely deserted. - Those two men might still be crouching in the doorway, but I could no - longer see them. All was still and dark, save only that brilliant yellow - screen in front of us with the black figure outlined upon its centre. - Again in the utter silence I heard that thin, sibilant note which spoke of - intense suppressed excitement. An instant later he pulled me back into the - blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The - fingers which clutched me were quivering. Never had I known my friend more - moved, and yet the dark street still stretched lonely and motionless - before us. - </p> - <p> - But suddenly I was aware of that which his keener senses had already - distinguished. A low, stealthy sound came to my ears, not from the - direction of Baker Street, but from the back of the very house in which we - lay concealed. A door opened and shut. An instant later steps crept down - the passage—steps which were meant to be silent, but which - reverberated harshly through the empty house. Holmes crouched back against - the wall, and I did the same, my hand closing upon the handle of my - revolver. Peering through the gloom, I saw the vague outline of a man, a - shade blacker than the blackness of the open door. He stood for an - instant, and then he crept forward, crouching, menacing, into the room. He - was within three yards of us, this sinister figure, and I had braced - myself to meet his spring, before I realized that he had no idea of our - presence. He passed close beside us, stole over to the window, and very - softly and noiselessly raised it for half a foot. As he sank to the level - of this opening, the light of the street, no longer dimmed by the dusty - glass, fell full upon his face. The man seemed to be beside himself with - excitement. His two eyes shone like stars, and his features were working - convulsively. He was an elderly man, with a thin, projecting nose, a high, - bald forehead, and a huge grizzled moustache. An opera hat was pushed to - the back of his head, and an evening dress shirt-front gleamed out through - his open overcoat. His face was gaunt and swarthy, scored with deep, - savage lines. In his hand he carried what appeared to be a stick, but as - he laid it down upon the floor it gave a metallic clang. Then from the - pocket of his overcoat he drew a bulky object, and he busied himself in - some task which ended with a loud, sharp click, as if a spring or bolt had - fallen into its place. Still kneeling upon the floor he bent forward and - threw all his weight and strength upon some lever, with the result that - there came a long, whirling, grinding noise, ending once more in a - powerful click. He straightened himself then, and I saw that what he held - in his hand was a sort of gun, with a curiously misshapen butt. He opened - it at the breech, put something in, and snapped the breech-lock. Then, - crouching down, he rested the end of the barrel upon the ledge of the open - window, and I saw his long moustache droop over the stock and his eye - gleam as it peered along the sights. I heard a little sigh of satisfaction - as he cuddled the butt into his shoulder; and saw that amazing target, the - black man on the yellow ground, standing clear at the end of his - foresight. For an instant he was rigid and motionless. Then his finger - tightened on the trigger. There was a strange, loud whiz and a long, - silvery tinkle of broken glass. At that instant Holmes sprang like a tiger - on to the marksman’s back, and hurled him flat upon his face. He was up - again in a moment, and with convulsive strength he seized Holmes by the - throat, but I struck him on the head with the butt of my revolver, and he - dropped again upon the floor. I fell upon him, and as I held him my - comrade blew a shrill call upon a whistle. There was the clatter of - running feet upon the pavement, and two policemen in uniform, with one - plain-clothes detective, rushed through the front entrance and into the - room. - </p> - <p> - “That you, Lestrade?” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mr. Holmes. I took the job myself. It’s good to see you back in - London, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I think you want a little unofficial help. Three undetected murders in - one year won’t do, Lestrade. But you handled the Molesey Mystery with less - than your usual—that’s to say, you handled it fairly well.” - </p> - <p> - We had all risen to our feet, our prisoner breathing hard, with a stalwart - constable on each side of him. Already a few loiterers had begun to - collect in the street. Holmes stepped up to the window, closed it, and - dropped the blinds. Lestrade had produced two candles, and the policemen - had uncovered their lanterns. I was able at last to have a good look at - our prisoner. - </p> - <p> - It was a tremendously virile and yet sinister face which was turned - towards us. With the brow of a philosopher above and the jaw of a - sensualist below, the man must have started with great capacities for good - or for evil. But one could not look upon his cruel blue eyes, with their - drooping, cynical lids, or upon the fierce, aggressive nose and the - threatening, deep-lined brow, without reading Nature’s plainest - danger-signals. He took no heed of any of us, but his eyes were fixed upon - Holmes’s face with an expression in which hatred and amazement were - equally blended. “You fiend!” he kept on muttering. “You clever, clever - fiend!” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, Colonel!” said Holmes, arranging his rumpled collar. “‘Journeys end - in lovers’ meetings,’ as the old play says. I don’t think I have had the - pleasure of seeing you since you favoured me with those attentions as I - lay on the ledge above the Reichenbach Fall.” - </p> - <p> - The colonel still stared at my friend like a man in a trance. “You - cunning, cunning fiend!” was all that he could say. - </p> - <p> - “I have not introduced you yet,” said Holmes. “This, gentlemen, is Colonel - Sebastian Moran, once of Her Majesty’s Indian Army, and the best - heavy-game shot that our Eastern Empire has ever produced. I believe I am - correct Colonel, in saying that your bag of tigers still remains - unrivalled?” - </p> - <p> - The fierce old man said nothing, but still glared at my companion. With - his savage eyes and bristling moustache he was wonderfully like a tiger - himself. - </p> - <p> - “I wonder that my very simple stratagem could deceive so old a <i>shikari</i>,” - said Holmes. “It must be very familiar to you. Have you not tethered a - young kid under a tree, lain above it with your rifle, and waited for the - bait to bring up your tiger? This empty house is my tree, and you are my - tiger. You have possibly had other guns in reserve in case there should be - several tigers, or in the unlikely supposition of your own aim failing - you. These,” he pointed around, “are my other guns. The parallel is - exact.” - </p> - <p> - Colonel Moran sprang forward with a snarl of rage, but the constables - dragged him back. The fury upon his face was terrible to look at. - </p> - <p> - “I confess that you had one small surprise for me,” said Holmes. “I did - not anticipate that you would yourself make use of this empty house and - this convenient front window. I had imagined you as operating from the - street, where my friend, Lestrade and his merry men were awaiting you. - With that exception, all has gone as I expected.” - </p> - <p> - Colonel Moran turned to the official detective. - </p> - <p> - “You may or may not have just cause for arresting me,” said he, “but at - least there can be no reason why I should submit to the gibes of this - person. If I am in the hands of the law, let things be done in a legal - way.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s reasonable enough,” said Lestrade. “Nothing further you have - to say, Mr. Holmes, before we go?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes had picked up the powerful air-gun from the floor, and was - examining its mechanism. - </p> - <p> - “An admirable and unique weapon,” said he, “noiseless and of tremendous - power: I knew Von Herder, the blind German mechanic, who constructed it to - the order of the late Professor Moriarty. For years I have been aware of - its existence though I have never before had the opportunity of handling - it. I commend it very specially to your attention, Lestrade and also the - bullets which fit it.” - </p> - <p> - “You can trust us to look after that, Mr. Holmes,” said Lestrade, as the - whole party moved towards the door. “Anything further to say?” - </p> - <p> - “Only to ask what charge you intend to prefer?” - </p> - <p> - “What charge, sir? Why, of course, the attempted murder of Mr. Sherlock - Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “Not so, Lestrade. I do not propose to appear in the matter at all. To - you, and to you only, belongs the credit of the remarkable arrest which - you have effected. Yes, Lestrade, I congratulate you! With your usual - happy mixture of cunning and audacity, you have got him.” - </p> - <p> - “Got him! Got whom, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “The man that the whole force has been seeking in vain—Colonel - Sebastian Moran, who shot the Honourable Ronald Adair with an expanding - bullet from an air-gun through the open window of the second-floor front - of No. 427, Park Lane, upon the thirtieth of last month. That’s the charge, - Lestrade. And now, Watson, if you can endure the draught from a broken - window, I think that half an hour in my study over a cigar may afford you - some profitable amusement.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - Our old chambers had been left unchanged through the supervision of - Mycroft Holmes and the immediate care of Mrs. Hudson. As I entered I saw, - it is true, an unwonted tidiness, but the old landmarks were all in their - place. There were the chemical corner and the acid-stained, deal-topped - table. There upon a shelf was the row of formidable scrap-books and books - of reference which many of our fellow-citizens would have been so glad to - burn. The diagrams, the violin-case, and the pipe-rack—even the - Persian slipper which contained the tobacco—all met my eyes as I - glanced round me. There were two occupants of the room—one, Mrs. - Hudson, who beamed upon us both as we entered—the other, the strange - dummy which had played so important a part in the evening’s adventures. It - was a wax-coloured model of my friend, so admirably done that it was a - perfect facsimile. It stood on a small pedestal table with an old - dressing-gown of Holmes’s so draped round it that the illusion from the - street was absolutely perfect. - </p> - <p> - “I hope you observed all precautions, Mrs. Hudson?” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “I went to it on my knees, sir, just as you told me.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent. You carried the thing out very well. Did you observe where the - bullet went?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. I’m afraid it has spoilt your beautiful bust, for it passed - right through the head and flattened itself on the wall. I picked it up - from the carpet. Here it is!” - </p> - <p> - Holmes held it out to me. “A soft revolver bullet, as you perceive, - Watson. There’s genius in that, for who would expect to find such a thing - fired from an airgun? All right, Mrs. Hudson. I am much obliged for your - assistance. And now, Watson, let me see you in your old seat once more, - for there are several points which I should like to discuss with you.” - </p> - <p> - He had thrown off the seedy frockcoat, and now he was the Holmes of old in - the mouse-coloured dressing-gown which he took from his effigy. - </p> - <p> - “The old <i>shikari’s</i> nerves have not lost their steadiness, nor his eyes - their keenness,” said he, with a laugh, as he inspected the shattered - forehead of his bust. - </p> - <p> - “Plumb in the middle of the back of the head and smack through the brain. - He was the best shot in India, and I expect that there are few better in - London. Have you heard the name?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I have not.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, such is fame! But, then, if I remember right, you had not - heard the name of Professor James Moriarty, who had one of the great - brains of the century. Just give me down my index of biographies from the - shelf.” - </p> - <p> - He turned over the pages lazily, leaning back in his chair and blowing - great clouds from his cigar. - </p> - <p> - “My collection of M’s is a fine one,” said he. “Moriarty himself is enough - to make any letter illustrious, and here is Morgan the poisoner, and - Merridew of abominable memory, and Mathews, who knocked out my left canine - in the waiting-room at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is our friend of - to-night.” - </p> - <p> - He handed over the book, and I read: - </p> - <p> - <i>Moran</i>, <i>Sebastian</i>, <i>Colonel</i>. Unemployed. Formerly 1st Bangalore Pioneers. - Born London, 1840. Son of Sir Augustus Moran, C.B., once British Minister - to Persia. Educated Eton and Oxford. Served in Jowaki Campaign, Afghan - Campaign, Charasiab (despatches), Sherpur, and Cabul. Author of <i>Heavy Game - of the Western Himalayas</i> (1881); <i>Three Months in the Jungle</i> (1884). - Address: Conduit Street. Clubs: The Anglo-Indian, the Tankerville, the - Bagatelle Card Club. - </p> - <p> - On the margin was written, in Holmes’s precise hand: - </p> - <p> - The second most dangerous man in London. - </p> - <p> - “This is astonishing,” said I, as I handed back the volume. “The man’s - career is that of an honourable soldier.” - </p> - <p> - “It is true,” Holmes answered. “Up to a certain point he did well. He was - always a man of iron nerve, and the story is still told in India how he - crawled down a drain after a wounded man-eating tiger. There are some - trees, Watson, which grow to a certain height, and then suddenly develop - some unsightly eccentricity. You will see it often in humans. I have a - theory that the individual represents in his development the whole - procession of his ancestors, and that such a sudden turn to good or evil - stands for some strong influence which came into the line of his pedigree. - The person becomes, as it were, the epitome of the history of his own - family.” - </p> - <p> - “It is surely rather fanciful.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don’t insist upon it. Whatever the cause, Colonel Moran began to - go wrong. Without any open scandal, he still made India too hot to hold - him. He retired, came to London, and again acquired an evil name. It was - at this time that he was sought out by Professor Moriarty, to whom for a - time he was chief of the staff. Moriarty supplied him liberally with - money, and used him only in one or two very high-class jobs, which no - ordinary criminal could have undertaken. You may have some recollection of - the death of Mrs. Stewart, of Lauder, in 1887. Not? Well, I am sure Moran - was at the bottom of it, but nothing could be proved. So cleverly was the - colonel concealed that, even when the Moriarty gang was broken up, we - could not incriminate him. You remember at that date, when I called upon - you in your rooms, how I put up the shutters for fear of air-guns? No - doubt you thought me fanciful. I knew exactly what I was doing, for I knew - of the existence of this remarkable gun, and I knew also that one of the - best shots in the world would be behind it. When we were in Switzerland he - followed us with Moriarty, and it was undoubtedly he who gave me that evil - five minutes on the Reichenbach ledge. - </p> - <p> - “You may think that I read the papers with some attention during my - sojourn in France, on the look-out for any chance of laying him by the - heels. So long as he was free in London, my life would really not have - been worth living. Night and day the shadow would have been over me, and - sooner or later his chance must have come. What could I do? I could not - shoot him at sight, or I should myself be in the dock. There was no use - appealing to a magistrate. They cannot interfere on the strength of what - would appear to them to be a wild suspicion. So I could do nothing. But I - watched the criminal news, knowing that sooner or later I should get him. - Then came the death of this Ronald Adair. My chance had come at last. - Knowing what I did, was it not certain that Colonel Moran had done it? He - had played cards with the lad, he had followed him home from the club, he - had shot him through the open window. There was not a doubt of it. The - bullets alone are enough to put his head in a noose. I came over at once. - I was seen by the sentinel, who would, I knew, direct the colonel’s - attention to my presence. He could not fail to connect my sudden return - with his crime, and to be terribly alarmed. I was sure that he would make - an attempt to get me out of the way <i>at once</i>, and would bring round his - murderous weapon for that purpose. I left him an excellent mark in the - window, and, having warned the police that they might be needed—by - the way, Watson, you spotted their presence in that doorway with unerring - accuracy—I took up what seemed to me to be a judicious post for - observation, never dreaming that he would choose the same spot for his - attack. Now, my dear Watson, does anything remain for me to explain?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said I. “You have not made it clear what was Colonel Moran’s motive - in murdering the Honourable Ronald Adair?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! my dear Watson, there we come into those realms of conjecture, where - the most logical mind may be at fault. Each may form his own hypothesis - upon the present evidence, and yours is as likely to be correct as mine.” - </p> - <p> - “You have formed one, then?” - </p> - <p> - “I think that it is not difficult to explain the facts. It came out in - evidence that Colonel Moran and young Adair had, between them, won a - considerable amount of money. Now, Moran undoubtedly played foul—of - that I have long been aware. I believe that on the day of the murder Adair - had discovered that Moran was cheating. Very likely he had spoken to him - privately, and had threatened to expose him unless he voluntarily resigned - his membership of the club, and promised not to play cards again. It is - unlikely that a youngster like Adair would at once make a hideous scandal - by exposing a well-known man so much older than himself. Probably he acted - as I suggest. The exclusion from his clubs would mean ruin to Moran, who - lived by his ill-gotten card-gains. He therefore murdered Adair, who at - the time was endeavouring to work out how much money he should himself - return, since he could not profit by his partner’s foul play. He locked - the door lest the ladies should surprise him and insist upon knowing what - he was doing with these names and coins. Will it pass?” - </p> - <p> - “I have no doubt that you have hit upon the truth.” - </p> - <p> - “It will be verified or disproved at the trial. Meanwhile, come what may, - Colonel Moran will trouble us no more. The famous air-gun of Von Herder - will embellish the Scotland Yard Museum, and once again Mr. Sherlock - Holmes is free to devote his life to examining those interesting little - problems which the complex life of London so plentifully presents.” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap02"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE NORWOOD BUILDER</h2> - - <p> - “From the point of view of the criminal expert,” said Mr. Sherlock Holmes, - “London has become a singularly uninteresting city since the death of the - late lamented Professor Moriarty.” - </p> - <p> - “I can hardly think that you would find many decent citizens to agree with - you,” I answered. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, I must not be selfish,” said he, with a smile, as he pushed - back his chair from the breakfast-table. “The community is certainly the - gainer, and no one the loser, save the poor out-of-work specialist, whose - occupation has gone. With that man in the field, one’s morning paper - presented infinite possibilities. Often it was only the smallest trace, - Watson, the faintest indication, and yet it was enough to tell me that the - great malignant brain was there, as the gentlest tremors of the edges of - the web remind one of the foul spider which lurks in the centre. Petty - thefts, wanton assaults, purposeless outrage—to the man who held the - clue all could be worked into one connected whole. To the scientific - student of the higher criminal world, no capital in Europe offered the - advantages which London then possessed. But now——” He shrugged - his shoulders in humorous deprecation of the state of things which he had - himself done so much to produce. - </p> - <p> - At the time of which I speak, Holmes had been back for some months, and I - at his request had sold my practice and returned to share the old quarters - in Baker Street. A young doctor, named Verner, had purchased my small - Kensington practice, and given with astonishingly little demur the highest - price that I ventured to ask—an incident which only explained itself - some years later, when I found that Verner was a distant relation of - Holmes, and that it was my friend who had really found the money. - </p> - <p> - Our months of partnership had not been so uneventful as he had stated, for - I find, on looking over my notes, that this period includes the case of - the papers of ex-President Murillo, and also the shocking affair of the - Dutch steamship <i>Friesland</i>, which so nearly cost us both our lives. His - cold and proud nature was always averse, however, from anything in the - shape of public applause, and he bound me in the most stringent terms to - say no further word of himself, his methods, or his successes—a - prohibition which, as I have explained, has only now been removed. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Sherlock Holmes was leaning back in his chair after his whimsical - protest, and was unfolding his morning paper in a leisurely fashion, when - our attention was arrested by a tremendous ring at the bell, followed - immediately by a hollow drumming sound, as if someone were beating on the - outer door with his fist. As it opened there came a tumultuous rush into - the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and an instant later a - wild-eyed and frantic young man, pale, disheveled, and palpitating, burst - into the room. He looked from one to the other of us, and under our gaze - of inquiry he became conscious that some apology was needed for this - unceremonious entry. - </p> - <p> - “I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes,” he cried. “You mustn’t blame me. I am nearly mad. - Mr. Holmes, I am the unhappy John Hector McFarlane.” - </p> - <p> - He made the announcement as if the name alone would explain both his visit - and its manner, but I could see, by my companion’s unresponsive face, that - it meant no more to him than to me. - </p> - <p> - “Have a cigarette, Mr. McFarlane,” said he, pushing his case across. “I am - sure that, with your symptoms, my friend Dr. Watson here would prescribe a - sedative. The weather has been so very warm these last few days. Now, if - you feel a little more composed, I should be glad if you would sit down in - that chair, and tell us very slowly and quietly who you are, and what it - is that you want. You mentioned your name, as if I should recognize it, - but I assure you that, beyond the obvious facts that you are a bachelor, a - solicitor, a Freemason, and an asthmatic, I know nothing whatever about - you.” - </p> - <p> - Familiar as I was with my friend’s methods, it was not difficult for me to - follow his deductions, and to observe the untidiness of attire, the sheaf - of legal papers, the watch-charm, and the breathing which had prompted - them. Our client, however, stared in amazement. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes; and, in addition, I am the most - unfortunate man at this moment in London. For heaven’s sake, don’t abandon - me, Mr. Holmes! If they come to arrest me before I have finished my story, - make them give me time, so that I may tell you the whole truth. I could go - to jail happy if I knew that you were working for me outside.” - </p> - <p> - “Arrest you!” said Holmes. “This is really most grati—most - interesting. On what charge do you expect to be arrested?” - </p> - <p> - “Upon the charge of murdering Mr. Jonas Oldacre, of Lower Norwood.” - </p> - <p> - My companion’s expressive face showed a sympathy which was not, I am - afraid, entirely unmixed with satisfaction. - </p> - <p> - “Dear me,” said he, “it was only this moment at breakfast that I was - saying to my friend, Dr. Watson, that sensational cases had disappeared - out of our papers.” - </p> - <p> - Our visitor stretched forward a quivering hand and picked up the <i>Daily - Telegraph</i>, which still lay upon Holmes’s knee. - </p> - <p> - “If you had looked at it, sir, you would have seen at a glance what the - errand is on which I have come to you this morning. I feel as if my name - and my misfortune must be in every man’s mouth.” He turned it over to - expose the central page. “Here it is, and with your permission I will read - it to you. Listen to this, Mr. Holmes. The headlines are: ‘Mysterious - Affair at Lower Norwood. Disappearance of a Well-known Builder. Suspicion - of Murder and Arson. A Clue to the Criminal.’ That is the clue which they - are already following, Mr. Holmes, and I know that it leads infallibly to - me. I have been followed from London Bridge Station, and I am sure that - they are only waiting for the warrant to arrest me. It will break my - mother’s heart—it will break her heart!” He wrung his hands in an - agony of apprehension, and swayed backward and forward in his chair. - </p> - <p> - I looked with interest upon this man, who was accused of being the - perpetrator of a crime of violence. He was flaxen-haired and handsome, in - a washed-out negative fashion, with frightened blue eyes, and a - clean-shaven face, with a weak, sensitive mouth. His age may have been - about twenty-seven, his dress and bearing that of a gentleman. From the - pocket of his light summer overcoat protruded the bundle of indorsed - papers which proclaimed his profession. - </p> - <p> - “We must use what time we have,” said Holmes. “Watson, would you have the - kindness to take the paper and to read the paragraph in question?” - </p> - <p> - Underneath the vigorous headlines which our client had quoted, I read the - following suggestive narrative: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - “Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred at Lower - Norwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime. Mr. Jonas Oldacre - is a well-known resident of that suburb, where he has carried on his - business as a builder for many years. Mr. Oldacre is a bachelor, fifty-two - years of age, and lives in Deep Dene House, at the Sydenham end of the - road of that name. He has had the reputation of being a man of eccentric - habits, secretive and retiring. For some years he has practically - withdrawn from the business, in which he is said to have massed - considerable wealth. A small timber-yard still exists, however, at the - back of the house, and last night, about twelve o’clock, an alarm was - given that one of the stacks was on fire. The engines were soon upon the - spot, but the dry wood burned with great fury, and it was impossible to - arrest the conflagration until the stack had been entirely consumed. Up to - this point the incident bore the appearance of an ordinary accident, but - fresh indications seem to point to serious crime. Surprise was expressed - at the absence of the master of the establishment from the scene of the - fire, and an inquiry followed, which showed that he had disappeared from - the house. An examination of his room revealed that the bed had not been - slept in, that a safe which stood in it was open, that a number of - important papers were scattered about the room, and finally, that there - were signs of a murderous struggle, slight traces of blood being found - within the room, and an oaken walking-stick, which also showed stains of - blood upon the handle. It is known that Mr. Jonas Oldacre had received a - late visitor in his bedroom upon that night, and the stick found has been - identified as the property of this person, who is a young London solicitor - named John Hector McFarlane, junior partner of Graham and McFarlane, of - 426, Gresham Buildings, E.C. The police believe that they have evidence in - their possession which supplies a very convincing motive for the crime, - and altogether it cannot be doubted that sensational developments will - follow.<br> - “LATER.—It is rumoured as we go to press that Mr. John Hector - McFarlane has actually been arrested on the charge of the murder of Mr. - Jonas Oldacre. It is at least certain that a warrant has been issued. - There have been further and sinister developments in the investigation at - Norwood. Besides the signs of a struggle in the room of the unfortunate - builder it is now known that the French windows of his bedroom (which is - on the ground floor) were found to be open, that there were marks as if - some bulky object had been dragged across to the wood-pile, and, finally, - it is asserted that charred remains have been found among the charcoal - ashes of the fire. The police theory is that a most sensational crime has - been committed, that the victim was clubbed to death in his own bedroom, - his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across to the wood-stack, - which was then ignited so as to hide all traces of the crime. The conduct - of the criminal investigation has been left in the experienced hands of - Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, who is following up the clues with - his accustomed energy and sagacity.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes listened with closed eyes and fingertips together to this - remarkable account. - </p> - <p> - “The case has certainly some points of interest,” said he, in his languid - fashion. “May I ask, in the first place, Mr. McFarlane, how it is that you - are still at liberty, since there appears to be enough evidence to justify - your arrest?” - </p> - <p> - “I live at Torrington Lodge, Blackheath, with my parents, Mr. Holmes, but - last night, having to do business very late with Mr. Jonas Oldacre, I - stayed at an hotel in Norwood, and came to my business from there. I knew - nothing of this affair until I was in the train, when I read what you have - just heard. I at once saw the horrible danger of my position, and I - hurried to put the case into your hands. I have no doubt that I should - have been arrested either at my city office or at my home. A man followed - me from London Bridge Station, and I have no doubt—Great heaven! - what is that?” - </p> - <p> - It was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps upon the - stair. A moment later, our old friend Lestrade appeared in the doorway. - Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of one or two uniformed policemen - outside. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. John Hector McFarlane?” said Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - Our unfortunate client rose with a ghastly face. - </p> - <p> - “I arrest you for the wilful murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre, of Lower - Norwood.” - </p> - <p> - McFarlane turned to us with a gesture of despair, and sank into his chair - once more like one who is crushed. - </p> - <p> - “One moment, Lestrade,” said Holmes. “Half an hour more or less can make - no difference to you, and the gentleman was about to give us an account of - this very interesting affair, which might aid us in clearing it up.” - </p> - <p> - “I think there will be no difficulty in clearing it up,” said Lestrade, - grimly. - </p> - <p> - “None the less, with your permission, I should be much interested to hear - his account.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes, it is difficult for me to refuse you anything, for you - have been of use to the force once or twice in the past, and we owe you a - good turn at Scotland Yard,” said Lestrade. “At the same time I must - remain with my prisoner, and I am bound to warn him that anything he may - say will appear in evidence against him.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish nothing better,” said our client. “All I ask is that you should - hear and recognize the absolute truth.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade looked at his watch. “I’ll give you half an hour,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “I must explain first,” said McFarlane, “that I knew nothing of Mr. Jonas - Oldacre. His name was familiar to me, for many years ago my parents were - acquainted with him, but they drifted apart. I was very much surprised - therefore, when yesterday, about three o’clock in the afternoon, he walked - into my office in the city. But I was still more astonished when he told - me the object of his visit. He had in his hand several sheets of a - notebook, covered with scribbled writing—here they are—and he - laid them on my table. - </p> - <p> - “‘Here is my will,’ said he. ‘I want you, Mr. McFarlane, to cast it into - proper legal shape. I will sit here while you do so.’ - </p> - <p> - “I set myself to copy it, and you can imagine my astonishment when I found - that, with some reservations, he had left all his property to me. He was a - strange little ferret-like man, with white eyelashes, and when I looked up - at him I found his keen grey eyes fixed upon me with an amused expression. - I could hardly believe my own as I read the terms of the will; but he - explained that he was a bachelor with hardly any living relation, that he - had known my parents in his youth, and that he had always heard of me as a - very deserving young man, and was assured that his money would be in - worthy hands. Of course, I could only stammer out my thanks. The will was - duly finished, signed, and witnessed by my clerk. This is it on the blue - paper, and these slips, as I have explained, are the rough draft. Mr. - Jonas Oldacre then informed me that there were a number of documents—building - leases, title-deeds, mortgages, scrip, and so forth—which it was - necessary that I should see and understand. He said that his mind would - not be easy until the whole thing was settled, and he begged me to come - out to his house at Norwood that night, bringing the will with me, and to - arrange matters. ‘Remember, my boy, not one word to your parents about the - affair until everything is settled. We will keep it as a little surprise - for them.’ He was very insistent upon this point, and made me promise it - faithfully. - </p> - <p> - “You can imagine, Mr. Holmes, that I was not in a humour to refuse him - anything that he might ask. He was my benefactor, and all my desire was to - carry out his wishes in every particular. I sent a telegram home, - therefore, to say that I had important business on hand, and that it was - impossible for me to say how late I might be. Mr. Oldacre had told me that - he would like me to have supper with him at nine, as he might not be home - before that hour. I had some difficulty in finding his house, however, and - it was nearly half-past before I reached it. I found him——” - </p> - <p> - “One moment!” said Holmes. “Who opened the door?” - </p> - <p> - “A middle-aged woman, who was, I suppose, his housekeeper.” - </p> - <p> - “And it was she, I presume, who mentioned your name?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly,” said McFarlane. - </p> - <p> - “Pray proceed.” - </p> - <p> - McFarlane wiped his damp brow, and then continued his narrative: - </p> - <p> - “I was shown by this woman into a sitting-room, where a frugal supper was - laid out. Afterwards, Mr. Jonas Oldacre led me into his bedroom, in which - there stood a heavy safe. This he opened and took out a mass of documents, - which we went over together. It was between eleven and twelve when we - finished. He remarked that we must not disturb the housekeeper. He showed - me out through his own French window, which had been open all this time.” - </p> - <p> - “Was the blind down?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “I will not be sure, but I believe that it was only half down. Yes, I - remember how he pulled it up in order to swing open the window. I could - not find my stick, and he said, ‘Never mind, my boy, I shall see a good - deal of you now, I hope, and I will keep your stick until you come back to - claim it.’ I left him there, the safe open, and the papers made up in - packets upon the table. It was so late that I could not get back to - Blackheath, so I spent the night at the Anerley Arms, and I knew nothing - more until I read of this horrible affair in the morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Anything more that you would like to ask, Mr. Holmes?” said Lestrade, - whose eyebrows had gone up once or twice during this remarkable - explanation. - </p> - <p> - “Not until I have been to Blackheath.” - </p> - <p> - “You mean to Norwood,” said Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, no doubt that is what I must have meant,” said Holmes, with his - enigmatical smile. Lestrade had learned by more experiences than he would - care to acknowledge that that brain could cut through that which was - impenetrable to him. I saw him look curiously at my companion. - </p> - <p> - “I think I should like to have a word with you presently, Mr. Sherlock - Holmes,” said he. “Now, Mr. McFarlane, two of my constables are at the - door, and there is a four-wheeler waiting.” The wretched young man arose, - and with a last beseeching glance at us walked from the room. The officers - conducted him to the cab, but Lestrade remained. - </p> - <p> - Holmes had picked up the pages which formed the rough draft of the will, - and was looking at them with the keenest interest upon his face. - </p> - <p> - “There are some points about that document, Lestrade, are there not?” said - he, pushing them over. - </p> - <p> - The official looked at them with a puzzled expression. - </p> - <p> - “I can read the first few lines and these in the middle of the second - page, and one or two at the end. Those are as clear as print,” said he, - “but the writing in between is very bad, and there are three places where - I cannot read it at all.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you make of that?” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what do <i>you</i> make of it?” - </p> - <p> - “That it was written in a train. The good writing represents stations, the - bad writing movement, and the very bad writing passing over points. A - scientific expert would pronounce at once that this was drawn up on a - suburban line, since nowhere save in the immediate vicinity of a great - city could there be so quick a succession of points. Granting that his - whole journey was occupied in drawing up the will, then the train was an - express, only stopping once between Norwood and London Bridge.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade began to laugh. - </p> - <p> - “You are too many for me when you begin to get on your theories, Mr. - Holmes,” said he. “How does this bear on the case?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it corroborates the young man’s story to the extent that the will - was drawn up by Jonas Oldacre in his journey yesterday. It is curious—is - it not?—that a man should draw up so important a document in so - haphazard a fashion. It suggests that he did not think it was going to be - of much practical importance. If a man drew up a will which he did not - intend ever to be effective, he might do it so.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he drew up his own death warrant at the same time,” said Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you think so?” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it is quite possible, but the case is not clear to me yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Not clear? Well, if that isn’t clear, what <i>could</i> be clearer? Here is a - young man who learns suddenly that, if a certain older man dies, he will - succeed to a fortune. What does he do? He says nothing to anyone, but he - arranges that he shall go out on some pretext to see his client that - night. He waits until the only other person in the house is in bed, and - then in the solitude of a man’s room he murders him, burns his body in the - wood-pile, and departs to a neighbouring hotel. The blood-stains in the - room and also on the stick are very slight. It is probable that he - imagined his crime to be a bloodless one, and hoped that if the body were - consumed it would hide all traces of the method of his death—traces - which, for some reason, must have pointed to him. Is not all this - obvious?” - </p> - <p> - “It strikes me, my good Lestrade, as being just a trifle too obvious,” - said Holmes. “You do not add imagination to your other great qualities, - but if you could for one moment put yourself in the place of this young - man, would you choose the very night after the will had been made to - commit your crime? Would it not seem dangerous to you to make so very - close a relation between the two incidents? Again, would you choose an - occasion when you are known to be in the house, when a servant has let you - in? And, finally, would you take the great pains to conceal the body, and - yet leave your own stick as a sign that you were the criminal? Confess, - Lestrade, that all this is very unlikely.” - </p> - <p> - “As to the stick, Mr. Holmes, you know as well as I do that a criminal is - often flurried, and does such things, which a cool man would avoid. He was - very likely afraid to go back to the room. Give me another theory that - would fit the facts.” - </p> - <p> - “I could very easily give you half a dozen,” said Holmes. “Here for - example, is a very possible and even probable one. I make you a free - present of it. The older man is showing documents which are of evident - value. A passing tramp sees them through the window, the blind of which is - only half down. Exit the solicitor. Enter the tramp! He seizes a stick, - which he observes there, kills Oldacre, and departs after burning the - body.” - </p> - <p> - “Why should the tramp burn the body?” - </p> - <p> - “For the matter of that, why should McFarlane?” - </p> - <p> - “To hide some evidence.” - </p> - <p> - “Possibly the tramp wanted to hide that any murder at all had been - committed.” - </p> - <p> - “And why did the tramp take nothing?” - </p> - <p> - “Because they were papers that he could not negotiate.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade shook his head, though it seemed to me that his manner was less - absolutely assured than before. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you may look for your tramp, and while you are - finding him we will hold on to our man. The future will show which is - right. Just notice this point, Mr. Holmes: that so far as we know, none of - the papers were removed, and that the prisoner is the one man in the world - who had no reason for removing them, since he was heir-at-law, and would - come into them in any case.” - </p> - <p> - My friend seemed struck by this remark. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t mean to deny that the evidence is in some ways very strongly in - favour of your theory,” said he. “I only wish to point out that there are - other theories possible. As you say, the future will decide. Good-morning! - I dare say that in the course of the day I shall drop in at Norwood and - see how you are getting on.” - </p> - <p> - When the detective departed, my friend rose and made his preparations for - the day’s work with the alert air of a man who has a congenial task before - him. - </p> - <p> - “My first movement Watson,” said he, as he bustled into his frockcoat, - “must, as I said, be in the direction of Blackheath.” - </p> - <p> - “And why not Norwood?” - </p> - <p> - “Because we have in this case one singular incident coming close to the - heels of another singular incident. The police are making the mistake of - concentrating their attention upon the second, because it happens to be - the one which is actually criminal. But it is evident to me that the - logical way to approach the case is to begin by trying to throw some light - upon the first incident—the curious will, so suddenly made, and to - so unexpected an heir. It may do something to simplify what followed. No, - my dear fellow, I don’t think you can help me. There is no prospect of - danger, or I should not dream of stirring out without you. I trust that - when I see you in the evening, I will be able to report that I have been - able to do something for this unfortunate youngster, who has thrown - himself upon my protection.” - </p> - <p> - It was late when my friend returned, and I could see, by a glance at his - haggard and anxious face, that the high hopes with which he had started - had not been fulfilled. For an hour he droned away upon his violin, - endeavouring to soothe his own ruffled spirits. At last he flung down the - instrument, and plunged into a detailed account of his misadventures. - </p> - <p> - “It’s all going wrong, Watson—all as wrong as it can go. I kept a - bold face before Lestrade, but, upon my soul, I believe that for once the - fellow is on the right track and we are on the wrong. All my instincts are - one way, and all the facts are the other, and I much fear that British - juries have not yet attained that pitch of intelligence when they will - give the preference to my theories over Lestrade’s facts.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you go to Blackheath?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Watson, I went there, and I found very quickly that the late - lamented Oldacre was a pretty considerable blackguard. The father was away - in search of his son. The mother was at home—a little, fluffy, - blue-eyed person, in a tremor of fear and indignation. Of course, she - would not admit even the possibility of his guilt. But she would not - express either surprise or regret over the fate of Oldacre. On the - contrary, she spoke of him with such bitterness that she was unconsciously - considerably strengthening the case of the police for, of course, if her - son had heard her speak of the man in this fashion, it would predispose - him towards hatred and violence. ‘He was more like a malignant and cunning - ape than a human being,’ said she, ‘and he always was, ever since he was a - young man.’ - </p> - <p> - “‘You knew him at that time?’ said I. - </p> - <p> - “‘Yes, I knew him well, in fact, he was an old suitor of mine. Thank - heaven that I had the sense to turn away from him and to marry a better, - if poorer, man. I was engaged to him, Mr. Holmes, when I heard a shocking - story of how he had turned a cat loose in an aviary, and I was so - horrified at his brutal cruelty that I would have nothing more to do with - him.’ She rummaged in a bureau, and presently she produced a photograph of - a woman, shamefully defaced and mutilated with a knife. ‘That is my own - photograph,’ she said. ‘He sent it to me in that state, with his curse, - upon my wedding morning.’ - </p> - <p> - “‘Well,’ said I, ‘at least he has forgiven you now, since he has left all - his property to your son.’ - </p> - <p> - “‘Neither my son nor I want anything from Jonas Oldacre, dead or alive!’ - she cried, with a proper spirit. ‘There is a God in heaven, Mr. Holmes, - and that same God who has punished that wicked man will show, in His own - good time, that my son’s hands are guiltless of his blood.’ - </p> - <p> - “Well, I tried one or two leads, but could get at nothing which would help - our hypothesis, and several points which would make against it. I gave it - up at last and off I went to Norwood. - </p> - <p> - “This place, Deep Dene House, is a big modern villa of staring brick, - standing back in its own grounds, with a laurel-clumped lawn in front of - it. To the right and some distance back from the road was the timber-yard - which had been the scene of the fire. Here’s a rough plan on a leaf of my - notebook. This window on the left is the one which opens into Oldacre’s - room. You can look into it from the road, you see. That is about the only - bit of consolation I have had to-day. Lestrade was not there, but his head - constable did the honours. They had just found a great treasure-trove. - They had spent the morning raking among the ashes of the burned wood-pile, - and besides the charred organic remains they had secured several - discoloured metal discs. I examined them with care, and there was no doubt - that they were trouser buttons. I even distinguished that one of them was - marked with the name of ‘Hyams,’ who was Oldacres tailor. I then worked - the lawn very carefully for signs and traces, but this drought has made - everything as hard as iron. Nothing was to be seen save that some body or - bundle had been dragged through a low privet hedge which is in a line with - the wood-pile. All that, of course, fits in with the official theory. I - crawled about the lawn with an August sun on my back, but I got up at the - end of an hour no wiser than before. - </p> - <p> - “Well, after this fiasco I went into the bedroom and examined that also. - The blood-stains were very slight, mere smears and discolourations, but - undoubtedly fresh. The stick had been removed, but there also the marks - were slight. There is no doubt about the stick belonging to our client. He - admits it. Footmarks of both men could be made out on the carpet, but none - of any third person, which again is a trick for the other side. They were - piling up their score all the time and we were at a standstill. - </p> - <p> - “Only one little gleam of hope did I get—and yet it amounted to - nothing. I examined the contents of the safe, most of which had been taken - out and left on the table. The papers had been made up into sealed - envelopes, one or two of which had been opened by the police. They were - not, so far as I could judge, of any great value, nor did the bank-book - show that Mr. Oldacre was in such very affluent circumstances. But it - seemed to me that all the papers were not there. There were allusions to - some deeds—possibly the more valuable—which I could not find. - This, of course, if we could definitely prove it, would turn Lestrade’s - argument against himself, for who would steal a thing if he knew that he - would shortly inherit it? - </p> - <p> - “Finally, having drawn every other cover and picked up no scent, I tried - my luck with the housekeeper. Mrs. Lexington is her name—a little, - dark, silent person, with suspicious and sidelong eyes. She could tell us - something if she would—I am convinced of it. But she was as close as - wax. Yes, she had let Mr. McFarlane in at half-past nine. She wished her - hand had withered before she had done so. She had gone to bed at half-past - ten. Her room was at the other end of the house, and she could hear - nothing of what had passed. Mr. McFarlane had left his hat, and to the - best of her belief his stick, in the hall. She had been awakened by the - alarm of fire. Her poor, dear master had certainly been murdered. Had he - any enemies? Well, every man had enemies, but Mr. Oldacre kept himself - very much to himself, and only met people in the way of business. She had - seen the buttons, and was sure that they belonged to the clothes which he - had worn last night. The wood-pile was very dry, for it had not rained for - a month. It burned like tinder, and by the time she reached the spot, - nothing could be seen but flames. She and all the firemen smelled the - burned flesh from inside it. She knew nothing of the papers, nor of Mr. - Oldacre’s private affairs. - </p> - <p> - “So, my dear Watson, there’s my report of a failure. And yet—and yet—” - he clenched his thin hands in a paroxysm of conviction—“I <i>know</i> it’s - all wrong. I feel it in my bones. There is something that has not come - out, and that housekeeper knows it. There was a sort of sulky defiance in - her eyes, which only goes with guilty knowledge. However, there’s no good - talking any more about it, Watson; but unless some lucky chance comes our - way I fear that the Norwood Disappearance Case will not figure in that - chronicle of our successes which I foresee that a patient public will - sooner or later have to endure.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely,” said I, “the man’s appearance would go far with any jury?” - </p> - <p> - “That is a dangerous argument my dear Watson. You remember that terrible - murderer, Bert Stevens, who wanted us to get him off in ’87? Was there - ever a more mild-mannered, Sunday-school young man?” - </p> - <p> - “It is true.” - </p> - <p> - “Unless we succeed in establishing an alternative theory, this man is - lost. You can hardly find a flaw in the case which can now be presented - against him, and all further investigation has served to strengthen it. By - the way, there is one curious little point about those papers which may - serve us as the starting-point for an inquiry. On looking over the - bank-book I found that the low state of the balance was principally due to - large checks which have been made out during the last year to Mr. - Cornelius. I confess that I should be interested to know who this Mr. - Cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has such very large - transactions. Is it possible that he has had a hand in the affair? - Cornelius might be a broker, but we have found no scrip to correspond with - these large payments. Failing any other indication, my researches must now - take the direction of an inquiry at the bank for the gentleman who has - cashed these checks. But I fear, my dear fellow, that our case will end - ingloriously by Lestrade hanging our client, which will certainly be a - triumph for Scotland Yard.” - </p> - <p> - I do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night, but when - I came down to breakfast I found him pale and harassed, his bright eyes - the brighter for the dark shadows round them. The carpet round his chair - was littered with cigarette-ends and with the early editions of the - morning papers. An open telegram lay upon the table. - </p> - <p> - “What do you think of this, Watson?” he asked, tossing it across. - </p> - <p> - It was from Norwood, and ran as follows: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - Important fresh evidence to hand. McFarlane’s guilt definitely - established. Advise you to abandon case.—LESTRADE. - </p> - <p> - “This sounds serious,” said I. - </p> - <p> - “It is Lestrade’s little cock-a-doodle of victory,” Holmes answered, with - a bitter smile. “And yet it may be premature to abandon the case. After - all, important fresh evidence is a two-edged thing, and may possibly cut - in a very different direction to that which Lestrade imagines. Take your - breakfast, Watson, and we will go out together and see what we can do. I - feel as if I shall need your company and your moral support today.” - </p> - <p> - My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiarities - that in his more intense moments he would permit himself no food, and I - have known him presume upon his iron strength until he has fainted from - pure inanition. “At present I cannot spare energy and nerve force for - digestion,” he would say in answer to my medical remonstrances. I was not - surprised, therefore, when this morning he left his untouched meal behind - him, and started with me for Norwood. A crowd of morbid sightseers were - still gathered round Deep Dene House, which was just such a suburban villa - as I had pictured. Within the gates Lestrade met us, his face flushed with - victory, his manner grossly triumphant. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes, have you proved us to be wrong yet? Have you found your - tramp?” he cried. - </p> - <p> - “I have formed no conclusion whatever,” my companion answered. - </p> - <p> - “But we formed ours yesterday, and now it proves to be correct, so you - must acknowledge that we have been a little in front of you this time, Mr. - Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “You certainly have the air of something unusual having occurred,” said - Holmes. - </p> - <p> - Lestrade laughed loudly. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t like being beaten any more than the rest of us do,” said he. “A - man can’t expect always to have it his own way, can he, Dr. Watson? Step - this way, if you please, gentlemen, and I think I can convince you once - for all that it was John McFarlane who did this crime.” - </p> - <p> - He led us through the passage and out into a dark hall beyond. - </p> - <p> - “This is where young McFarlane must have come out to get his hat after the - crime was done,” said he. “Now look at this.” With dramatic suddenness he - struck a match, and by its light exposed a stain of blood upon the - whitewashed wall. As he held the match nearer, I saw that it was more than - a stain. It was the well-marked print of a thumb. - </p> - <p> - “Look at that with your magnifying glass, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I am doing so.” - </p> - <p> - “You are aware that no two thumb-marks are alike?” - </p> - <p> - “I have heard something of the kind.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, will you please compare that print with this wax impression - of young McFarlane’s right thumb, taken by my orders this morning?” - </p> - <p> - As he held the waxen print close to the blood-stain, it did not take a - magnifying glass to see that the two were undoubtedly from the same thumb. - It was evident to me that our unfortunate client was lost. - </p> - <p> - “That is final,” said Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that is final,” I involuntarily echoed. - </p> - <p> - “It is final,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - Something in his tone caught my ear, and I turned to look at him. An - extraordinary change had come over his face. It was writhing with inward - merriment. His two eyes were shining like stars. It seemed to me that he - was making desperate efforts to restrain a convulsive attack of laughter. - </p> - <p> - “Dear me! Dear me!” he said at last. “Well, now, who would have thought - it? And how deceptive appearances may be, to be sure! Such a nice young - man to look at! It is a lesson to us not to trust our own judgment, is it - not, Lestrade?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, some of us are a little too much inclined to be cock-sure, Mr. - Holmes,” said Lestrade. The man’s insolence was maddening, but we could - not resent it. - </p> - <p> - “What a providential thing that this young man should press his right - thumb against the wall in taking his hat from the peg! Such a very natural - action, too, if you come to think of it.” Holmes was outwardly calm, but - his whole body gave a wriggle of suppressed excitement as he spoke. - </p> - <p> - “By the way, Lestrade, who made this remarkable discovery?” - </p> - <p> - “It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Lexington, who drew the night constable’s - attention to it.” - </p> - <p> - “Where was the night constable?” - </p> - <p> - “He remained on guard in the bedroom where the crime was committed, so as - to see that nothing was touched.” - </p> - <p> - “But why didn’t the police see this mark yesterday?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we had no particular reason to make a careful examination of the - hall. Besides, it’s not in a very prominent place, as you see.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no—of course not. I suppose there is no doubt that the mark was - there yesterday?” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade looked at Holmes as if he thought he was going out of his mind. I - confess that I was myself surprised both at his hilarious manner and at - his rather wild observation. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know whether you think that McFarlane came out of jail in the - dead of the night in order to strengthen the evidence against himself,” - said Lestrade. “I leave it to any expert in the world whether that is not - the mark of his thumb.” - </p> - <p> - “It is unquestionably the mark of his thumb.” - </p> - <p> - “There, that’s enough,” said Lestrade. “I am a practical man, Mr. Holmes, - and when I have got my evidence I come to my conclusions. If you have - anything to say, you will find me writing my report in the sitting-room.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes had recovered his equanimity, though I still seemed to detect - gleams of amusement in his expression. - </p> - <p> - “Dear me, this is a very sad development, Watson, is it not?” said he. - “And yet there are singular points about it which hold out some hopes for - our client.” - </p> - <p> - “I am delighted to hear it,” said I, heartily. “I was afraid it was all up - with him.” - </p> - <p> - “I would hardly go so far as to say that, my dear Watson. The fact is that - there is one really serious flaw in this evidence to which our friend - attaches so much importance.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed, Holmes! What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Only this: that I <i>know</i> that that mark was not there when I examined the - hall yesterday. And now, Watson, let us have a little stroll round in the - sunshine.” - </p> - <p> - With a confused brain, but with a heart into which some warmth of hope was - returning, I accompanied my friend in a walk round the garden. Holmes took - each face of the house in turn, and examined it with great interest. He - then led the way inside, and went over the whole building from basement to - attic. Most of the rooms were unfurnished, but none the less Holmes - inspected them all minutely. Finally, on the top corridor, which ran - outside three untenanted bedrooms, he again was seized with a spasm of - merriment. - </p> - <p> - “There are really some very unique features about this case, Watson,” said - he. “I think it is time now that we took our friend Lestrade into our - confidence. He has had his little smile at our expense, and perhaps we may - do as much by him, if my reading of this problem proves to be correct. - Yes, yes, I think I see how we should approach it.” - </p> - <p> - The Scotland Yard inspector was still writing in the parlour when Holmes - interrupted him. - </p> - <p> - “I understood that you were writing a report of this case,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “So I am.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you think it may be a little premature? I can’t help thinking that - your evidence is not complete.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade knew my friend too well to disregard his words. He laid down his - pen and looked curiously at him. - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “Only that there is an important witness whom you have not seen.” - </p> - <p> - “Can you produce him?” - </p> - <p> - “I think I can.” - </p> - <p> - “Then do so.” - </p> - <p> - “I will do my best. How many constables have you?” - </p> - <p> - “There are three within call.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent!” said Holmes. “May I ask if they are all large, able-bodied - men with powerful voices?” - </p> - <p> - “I have no doubt they are, though I fail to see what their voices have to - do with it.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps I can help you to see that and one or two other things as well,” - said Holmes. “Kindly summon your men, and I will try.” - </p> - <p> - Five minutes later, three policemen had assembled in the hall. - </p> - <p> - “In the outhouse you will find a considerable quantity of straw,” said - Holmes. “I will ask you to carry in two bundles of it. I think it will be - of the greatest assistance in producing the witness whom I require. Thank - you very much. I believe you have some matches in your pocket Watson. Now, - Mr. Lestrade, I will ask you all to accompany me to the top landing.” - </p> - <p> - As I have said, there was a broad corridor there, which ran outside three - empty bedrooms. At one end of the corridor we were all marshalled by - Sherlock Holmes, the constables grinning and Lestrade staring at my friend - with amazement, expectation, and derision chasing each other across his - features. Holmes stood before us with the air of a conjurer who is - performing a trick. - </p> - <p> - “Would you kindly send one of your constables for two buckets of water? - Put the straw on the floor here, free from the wall on either side. Now I - think that we are all ready.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade’s face had begun to grow red and angry. “I don’t know whether you - are playing a game with us, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said he. “If you know - anything, you can surely say it without all this tomfoolery.” - </p> - <p> - “I assure you, my good Lestrade, that I have an excellent reason for - everything that I do. You may possibly remember that you chaffed me a - little, some hours ago, when the sun seemed on your side of the hedge, so - you must not grudge me a little pomp and ceremony now. Might I ask you, - Watson, to open that window, and then to put a match to the edge of the - straw?” - </p> - <p> - I did so, and driven by the draught a coil of grey smoke swirled down the - corridor, while the dry straw crackled and flamed. - </p> - <p> - “Now we must see if we can find this witness for you, Lestrade. Might I - ask you all to join in the cry of ‘Fire!’? Now then; one, two, three——” - </p> - <p> - “Fire!” we all yelled. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you. I will trouble you once again.” - </p> - <p> - “Fire!” - </p> - <p> - “Just once more, gentlemen, and all together.” - </p> - <p> - “Fire!” The shout must have rung over Norwood. - </p> - <p> - It had hardly died away when an amazing thing happened. A door suddenly - flew open out of what appeared to be solid wall at the end of the - corridor, and a little, wizened man darted out of it, like a rabbit out of - its burrow. - </p> - <p> - “Capital!” said Holmes, calmly. “Watson, a bucket of water over the straw. - That will do! Lestrade, allow me to present you with your principal - missing witness, Mr. Jonas Oldacre.” - </p> - <p> - The detective stared at the newcomer with blank amazement. The latter was - blinking in the bright light of the corridor, and peering at us and at the - smouldering fire. It was an odious face—crafty, vicious, malignant, - with shifty, light-grey eyes and white lashes. - </p> - <p> - “What’s this, then?” said Lestrade, at last. “What have you been doing all - this time, eh?” - </p> - <p> - Oldacre gave an uneasy laugh, shrinking back from the furious red face of - the angry detective. - </p> - <p> - “I have done no harm.” - </p> - <p> - “No harm? You have done your best to get an innocent man hanged. If it - wasn’t for this gentleman here, I am not sure that you would not have - succeeded.” - </p> - <p> - The wretched creature began to whimper. - </p> - <p> - “I am sure, sir, it was only my practical joke.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh! a joke, was it? You won’t find the laugh on your side, I promise you. - Take him down, and keep him in the sitting-room until I come. Mr. Holmes,” - he continued, when they had gone, “I could not speak before the - constables, but I don’t mind saying, in the presence of Dr. Watson, that - this is the brightest thing that you have done yet, though it is a mystery - to me how you did it. You have saved an innocent man’s life, and you have - prevented a very grave scandal, which would have ruined my reputation in - the Force.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smiled, and clapped Lestrade upon the shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Instead of being ruined, my good sir, you will find that your reputation - has been enormously enhanced. Just make a few alterations in that report - which you were writing, and they will understand how hard it is to throw - dust in the eyes of Inspector Lestrade.” - </p> - <p> - “And you don’t want your name to appear?” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. The work is its own reward. Perhaps I shall get the credit - also at some distant day, when I permit my zealous historian to lay out - his foolscap once more—eh, Watson? Well, now, let us see where this - rat has been lurking.” - </p> - <p> - A lath-and-plaster partition had been run across the passage six feet from - the end, with a door cunningly concealed in it. It was lit within by slits - under the eaves. A few articles of furniture and a supply of food and - water were within, together with a number of books and papers. - </p> - <p> - “There’s the advantage of being a builder,” said Holmes, as we came out. - “He was able to fix up his own little hiding-place without any confederate—save, - of course, that precious housekeeper of his, whom I should lose no time in - adding to your bag, Lestrade.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll take your advice. But how did you know of this place, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “I made up my mind that the fellow was in hiding in the house. When I - paced one corridor and found it six feet shorter than the corresponding - one below, it was pretty clear where he was. I thought he had not the - nerve to lie quiet before an alarm of fire. We could, of course, have gone - in and taken him, but it amused me to make him reveal himself. Besides, I - owed you a little mystification, Lestrade, for your chaff in the morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, you certainly got equal with me on that. But how in the world - did you know that he was in the house at all?” - </p> - <p> - “The thumb-mark, Lestrade. You said it was final; and so it was, in a very - different sense. I knew it had not been there the day before. I pay a good - deal of attention to matters of detail, as you may have observed, and I - had examined the hall, and was sure that the wall was clear. Therefore, it - had been put on during the night.” - </p> - <p> - “But how?” - </p> - <p> - “Very simply. When those packets were sealed up, Jonas Oldacre got - McFarlane to secure one of the seals by putting his thumb upon the soft - wax. It would be done so quickly and so naturally, that I daresay the - young man himself has no recollection of it. Very likely it just so - happened, and Oldacre had himself no notion of the use he would put it to. - Brooding over the case in that den of his, it suddenly struck him what - absolutely damning evidence he could make against McFarlane by using that - thumb-mark. It was the simplest thing in the world for him to take a wax - impression from the seal, to moisten it in as much blood as he could get - from a pin-prick, and to put the mark upon the wall during the night, - either with his own hand or with that of his housekeeper. If you examine - among those documents which he took with him into his retreat, I will lay - you a wager that you find the seal with the thumb-mark upon it.” - </p> - <p> - “Wonderful!” said Lestrade. “Wonderful! It’s all as clear as crystal, as - you put it. But what is the object of this deep deception, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - It was amusing to me to see how the detective’s overbearing manner had - changed suddenly to that of a child asking questions of its teacher. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don’t think that is very hard to explain. A very deep, malicious, - vindictive person is the gentleman who is now waiting us downstairs. You - know that he was once refused by McFarlane’s mother? You don’t! I told you - that you should go to Blackheath first and Norwood afterwards. Well, this - injury, as he would consider it, has rankled in his wicked, scheming - brain, and all his life he has longed for vengeance, but never seen his - chance. During the last year or two, things have gone against him—secret - speculation, I think—and he finds himself in a bad way. He - determines to swindle his creditors, and for this purpose he pays large - checks to a certain Mr. Cornelius, who is, I imagine, himself under - another name. I have not traced these checks yet, but I have no doubt that - they were banked under that name at some provincial town where Oldacre - from time to time led a double existence. He intended to change his name - altogether, draw this money, and vanish, starting life again elsewhere.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s likely enough.” - </p> - <p> - “It would strike him that in disappearing he might throw all pursuit off - his track, and at the same time have an ample and crushing revenge upon - his old sweetheart, if he could give the impression that he had been - murdered by her only child. It was a masterpiece of villainy, and he - carried it out like a master. The idea of the will, which would give an - obvious motive for the crime, the secret visit unknown to his own parents, - the retention of the stick, the blood, and the animal remains and buttons - in the wood-pile, all were admirable. It was a net from which it seemed to - me, a few hours ago, that there was no possible escape. But he had not - that supreme gift of the artist, the knowledge of when to stop. He wished - to improve that which was already perfect—to draw the rope tighter - yet round the neck of his unfortunate victim—and so he ruined all. - Let us descend, Lestrade. There are just one or two questions that I would - ask him.” - </p> - <p> - The malignant creature was seated in his own parlour, with a policeman - upon each side of him. - </p> - <p> - “It was a joke, my good sir—a practical joke, nothing more,” he - whined incessantly. “I assure you, sir, that I simply concealed myself in - order to see the effect of my disappearance, and I am sure that you would - not be so unjust as to imagine that I would have allowed any harm to - befall poor young Mr. McFarlane.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s for a jury to decide,” said Lestrade. “Anyhow, we shall have you - on a charge of conspiracy, if not for attempted murder.” - </p> - <p> - “And you’ll probably find that your creditors will impound the banking - account of Mr. Cornelius,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - The little man started, and turned his malignant eyes upon my friend. - </p> - <p> - “I have to thank you for a good deal,” said he. “Perhaps I’ll pay my debt - some day.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smiled indulgently. - </p> - <p> - “I fancy that, for some few years, you will find your time very fully - occupied,” said he. “By the way, what was it you put into the wood-pile - besides your old trousers? A dead dog, or rabbits, or what? You won’t - tell? Dear me, how very unkind of you! Well, well, I daresay that a couple - of rabbits would account both for the blood and for the charred ashes. If - ever you write an account, Watson, you can make rabbits serve your turn.” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap03"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE DANCING MEN</h2> - - <p> - Holmes had been seated for some hours in silence with his long, thin back - curved over a chemical vessel in which he was brewing a particularly - malodorous product. His head was sunk upon his breast, and he looked from - my point of view like a strange, lank bird, with dull grey plumage and a - black top-knot. - </p> - <p> - “So, Watson,” said he, suddenly, “you do not propose to invest in South - African securities?” - </p> - <p> - I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holmes’s curious - faculties, this sudden intrusion into my most intimate thoughts was - utterly inexplicable. - </p> - <p> - “How on earth do you know that?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - He wheeled round upon his stool, with a steaming test-tube in his hand, - and a gleam of amusement in his deep-set eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Watson, confess yourself utterly taken aback,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “I am.” - </p> - <p> - “I ought to make you sign a paper to that effect.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “Because in five minutes you will say that it is all so absurdly simple.” - </p> - <p> - “I am sure that I shall say nothing of the kind.” - </p> - <p> - “You see, my dear Watson,”—he propped his test-tube in the rack, and - began to lecture with the air of a professor addressing his class—“it - is not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, each - dependent upon its predecessor and each simple in itself. If, after doing - so, one simply knocks out all the central inferences and presents one’s - audience with the starting-point and the conclusion, one may produce a - startling, though possibly a meretricious, effect. Now, it was not really - difficult, by an inspection of the groove between your left forefinger and - thumb, to feel sure that you did <i>not</i> propose to invest your small capital - in the gold fields.” - </p> - <p> - “I see no connection.” - </p> - <p> - “Very likely not; but I can quickly show you a close connection. Here are - the missing links of the very simple chain: 1. You had chalk between your - left finger and thumb when you returned from the club last night. 2. You - put chalk there when you play billiards, to steady the cue. 3. You never - play billiards except with Thurston. 4. You told me, four weeks ago, that - Thurston had an option on some South African property which would expire - in a month, and which he desired you to share with him. 5. Your check book - is locked in my drawer, and you have not asked for the key. 6. You do not - propose to invest your money in this manner.” - </p> - <p> - “How absurdly simple!” I cried. - </p> - <p> - “Quite so!” said he, a little nettled. “Every problem becomes very - childish when once it is explained to you. Here is an unexplained one. See - what you can make of that, friend Watson.” He tossed a sheet of paper upon - the table, and turned once more to his chemical analysis. - </p> - <p> - I looked with amazement at the absurd hieroglyphics upon the paper. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Holmes, it is a child’s drawing,” I cried. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that’s your idea!” - </p> - <p> - “What else should it be?” - </p> - <p> - “That is what Mr. Hilton Cubitt, of Riding Thorpe Manor, Norfolk, is very - anxious to know. This little conundrum came by the first post, and he was - to follow by the next train. There’s a ring at the bell, Watson. I should - not be very much surprised if this were he.” - </p> - <p> - A heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and an instant later there entered - a tall, ruddy, clean-shaven gentleman, whose clear eyes and florid cheeks - told of a life led far from the fogs of Baker Street. He seemed to bring a - whiff of his strong, fresh, bracing, east-coast air with him as he - entered. Having shaken hands with each of us, he was about to sit down, - when his eye rested upon the paper with the curious markings, which I had - just examined and left upon the table. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these?” he cried. “They told me - that you were fond of queer mysteries, and I don’t think you can find a - queerer one than that. I sent the paper on ahead, so that you might have - time to study it before I came.” - </p> - <p> - “It is certainly rather a curious production,” said Holmes. “At first - sight it would appear to be some childish prank. It consists of a number - of absurd little figures dancing across the paper upon which they are - drawn. Why should you attribute any importance to so grotesque an object?” - </p> - <p> - “I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does. It is frightening her to - death. She says nothing, but I can see terror in her eyes. That’s why I - want to sift the matter to the bottom.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes held up the paper so that the sunlight shone full upon it. It was a - page torn from a notebook. The markings were done in pencil, and ran in - this way: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:90%;"> - <img src="images/img01.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="AM-HERE-ABE-SLANEY"> - </div> - - <p> - Holmes examined it for some time, and then, folding it carefully up, he - placed it in his pocketbook. - </p> - <p> - “This promises to be a most interesting and unusual case,” said he. “You - gave me a few particulars in your letter, Mr. Hilton Cubitt, but I should - be very much obliged if you would kindly go over it all again for the - benefit of my friend, Dr. Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m not much of a story-teller,” said our visitor, nervously clasping and - unclasping his great, strong hands. “You’ll just ask me anything that I - don’t make clear. I’ll begin at the time of my marriage last year, but I - want to say first of all that, though I’m not a rich man, my people have - been at Riding Thorpe for a matter of five centuries, and there is no - better known family in the County of Norfolk. Last year I came up to - London for the Jubilee, and I stopped at a boarding-house in Russell - Square, because Parker, the vicar of our parish, was staying in it. There - was an American young lady there—Patrick was the name—Elsie - Patrick. In some way we became friends, until before my month was up I was - as much in love as a man could be. We were quietly married at a registry - office, and we returned to Norfolk a wedded couple. You’ll think it very - mad, Mr. Holmes, that a man of a good old family should marry a wife in - this fashion, knowing nothing of her past or of her people, but if you saw - her and knew her, it would help you to understand. - </p> - <p> - “She was very straight about it, was Elsie. I can’t say that she did not - give me every chance of getting out of it if I wished to do so. ‘I have - had some very disagreeable associations in my life,’ said she, ‘I wish to - forget all about them. I would rather never allude to the past, for it is - very painful to me. If you take me, Hilton, you will take a woman who has - nothing that she need be personally ashamed of, but you will have to be - content with my word for it, and to allow me to be silent as to all that - passed up to the time when I became yours. If these conditions are too - hard, then go back to Norfolk, and leave me to the lonely life in which - you found me.’ It was only the day before our wedding that she said those - very words to me. I told her that I was content to take her on her own - terms, and I have been as good as my word. - </p> - <p> - “Well we have been married now for a year, and very happy we have been. - But about a month ago, at the end of June, I saw for the first time signs - of trouble. One day my wife received a letter from America. I saw the - American stamp. She turned deadly white, read the letter, and threw it - into the fire. She made no allusion to it afterwards, and I made none, for - a promise is a promise, but she has never known an easy hour from that - moment. There is always a look of fear upon her face—a look as if - she were waiting and expecting. She would do better to trust me. She would - find that I was her best friend. But until she speaks, I can say nothing. - Mind you, she is a truthful woman, Mr. Holmes, and whatever trouble there - may have been in her past life it has been no fault of hers. I am only a - simple Norfolk squire, but there is not a man in England who ranks his - family honour more highly than I do. She knows it well, and she knew it - well before she married me. She would never bring any stain upon it—of - that I am sure. - </p> - <p> - “Well, now I come to the queer part of my story. About a week ago—it - was the Tuesday of last week—I found on one of the window-sills a - number of absurd little dancing figures like these upon the paper. They - were scrawled with chalk. I thought that it was the stable-boy who had - drawn them, but the lad swore he knew nothing about it. Anyhow, they had - come there during the night. I had them washed out, and I only mentioned - the matter to my wife afterwards. To my surprise, she took it very - seriously, and begged me if any more came to let her see them. None did - come for a week, and then yesterday morning I found this paper lying on - the sundial in the garden. I showed it to Elsie, and down she dropped in a - dead faint. Since then she has looked like a woman in a dream, half dazed, - and with terror always lurking in her eyes. It was then that I wrote and - sent the paper to you, Mr. Holmes. It was not a thing that I could take to - the police, for they would have laughed at me, but you will tell me what - to do. I am not a rich man, but if there is any danger threatening my - little woman, I would spend my last copper to shield her.” - </p> - <p> - He was a fine creature, this man of the old English soil—simple, - straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest blue eyes and broad, comely - face. His love for his wife and his trust in her shone in his features. - Holmes had listened to his story with the utmost attention, and now he sat - for some time in silent thought. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you think, Mr. Cubitt,” said he, at last, “that your best plan - would be to make a direct appeal to your wife, and to ask her to share her - secret with you?” - </p> - <p> - Hilton Cubitt shook his massive head. - </p> - <p> - “A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to tell me she would. - If not, it is not for me to force her confidence. But I am justified in - taking my own line—and I will.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I will help you with all my heart. In the first place, have you - heard of any strangers being seen in your neighbourhood?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “I presume that it is a very quiet place. Any fresh face would cause - comment?” - </p> - <p> - “In the immediate neighbourhood, yes. But we have several small - watering-places not very far away. And the farmers take in lodgers.” - </p> - <p> - “These hieroglyphics have evidently a meaning. If it is a purely arbitrary - one, it may be impossible for us to solve it. If, on the other hand, it is - systematic, I have no doubt that we shall get to the bottom of it. But - this particular sample is so short that I can do nothing, and the facts - which you have brought me are so indefinite that we have no basis for an - investigation. I would suggest that you return to Norfolk, that you keep a - keen lookout, and that you take an exact copy of any fresh dancing men - which may appear. It is a thousand pities that we have not a reproduction - of those which were done in chalk upon the window-sill. Make a discreet - inquiry also as to any strangers in the neighbourhood. When you have - collected some fresh evidence, come to me again. That is the best advice - which I can give you, Mr. Hilton Cubitt. If there are any pressing fresh - developments, I shall be always ready to run down and see you in your - Norfolk home.” - </p> - <p> - The interview left Sherlock Holmes very thoughtful, and several times in - the next few days I saw him take his slip of paper from his notebook and - look long and earnestly at the curious figures inscribed upon it. He made - no allusion to the affair, however, until one afternoon a fortnight or so - later. I was going out when he called me back. - </p> - <p> - “You had better stay here, Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “Because I had a wire from Hilton Cubitt this morning. You remember Hilton - Cubitt, of the dancing men? He was to reach Liverpool Street at - one-twenty. He may be here at any moment. I gather from his wire that - there have been some new incidents of importance.” - </p> - <p> - We had not long to wait, for our Norfolk squire came straight from the - station as fast as a hansom could bring him. He was looking worried and - depressed, with tired eyes and a lined forehead. - </p> - <p> - “It’s getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes,” said he, as he - sank, like a wearied man, into an armchair. “It’s bad enough to feel that - you are surrounded by unseen, unknown folk, who have some kind of design - upon you, but when, in addition to that, you know that it is just killing - your wife by inches, then it becomes as much as flesh and blood can - endure. She’s wearing away under it—just wearing away before my - eyes.” - </p> - <p> - “Has she said anything yet?” - </p> - <p> - “No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been times when the poor - girl has wanted to speak, and yet could not quite bring herself to take - the plunge. I have tried to help her, but I daresay I did it clumsily, and - scared her from it. She has spoken about my old family, and our reputation - in the county, and our pride in our unsullied honour, and I always felt it - was leading to the point, but somehow it turned off before we got there.” - </p> - <p> - “But you have found out something for yourself?” - </p> - <p> - “A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancing-men pictures for - you to examine, and, what is more important, I have seen the fellow.” - </p> - <p> - “What, the man who draws them?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I saw him at his work. But I will tell you everything in order. When - I got back after my visit to you, the very first thing I saw next morning - was a fresh crop of dancing men. They had been drawn in chalk upon the - black wooden door of the tool-house, which stands beside the lawn in full - view of the front windows. I took an exact copy, and here it is.” He - unfolded a paper and laid it upon the table. Here is a copy of the - hieroglyphics: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img02.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="AT-ELRIGES"> - </div> - - <p> - “Excellent!” said Holmes. “Excellent! Pray continue.” - </p> - <p> - “When I had taken the copy, I rubbed out the marks, but, two mornings - later, a fresh inscription had appeared. I have a copy of it here:” - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img03.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="COME-ELSIE"> - </div> - - <p> - Holmes rubbed his hands and chuckled with delight. - </p> - <p> - “Our material is rapidly accumulating,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Three days later a message was left scrawled upon paper, and placed under - a pebble upon the sundial. Here it is. The characters are, as you see, - exactly the same as the last one. After that I determined to lie in wait, - so I got out my revolver and I sat up in my study, which overlooks the - lawn and garden. About two in the morning I was seated by the window, all - being dark save for the moonlight outside, when I heard steps behind me, - and there was my wife in her dressing-gown. She implored me to come to - bed. I told her frankly that I wished to see who it was who played such - absurd tricks upon us. She answered that it was some senseless practical - joke, and that I should not take any notice of it. - </p> - <p> - “‘If it really annoys you, Hilton, we might go and travel, you and I, and - so avoid this nuisance.’ - </p> - <p> - “‘What, be driven out of our own house by a practical joker?’ said I. - ‘Why, we should have the whole county laughing at us.’ - </p> - <p> - “‘Well, come to bed,’ said she, ‘and we can discuss it in the morning.’ - </p> - <p> - “Suddenly, as she spoke, I saw her white face grow whiter yet in the - moonlight, and her hand tightened upon my shoulder. Something was moving - in the shadow of the tool-house. I saw a dark, creeping figure which - crawled round the corner and squatted in front of the door. Seizing my - pistol, I was rushing out, when my wife threw her arms round me and held - me with convulsive strength. I tried to throw her off, but she clung to me - most desperately. At last I got clear, but by the time I had opened the - door and reached the house the creature was gone. He had left a trace of - his presence, however, for there on the door was the very same arrangement - of dancing men which had already twice appeared, and which I have copied - on that paper. There was no other sign of the fellow anywhere, though I - ran all over the grounds. And yet the amazing thing is that he must have - been there all the time, for when I examined the door again in the - morning, he had scrawled some more of his pictures under the line which I - had already seen.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you that fresh drawing?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is very short, but I made a copy of it, and here it is.” - </p> - <p> - Again he produced a paper. The new dance was in this form: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img04.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="NEVER"> - </div> - - <p> - “Tell me,” said Holmes—and I could see by his eyes that he was much - excited—“was this a mere addition to the first or did it appear to - be entirely separate?” - </p> - <p> - “It was on a different panel of the door.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent! This is far the most important of all for our purpose. It - fills me with hopes. Now, Mr. Hilton Cubitt, please continue your most - interesting statement.” - </p> - <p> - “I have nothing more to say, Mr. Holmes, except that I was angry with my - wife that night for having held me back when I might have caught the - skulking rascal. She said that she feared that I might come to harm. For - an instant it had crossed my mind that perhaps what she really feared was - that <i>he</i> might come to harm, for I could not doubt that she knew who this - man was, and what he meant by these strange signals. But there is a tone - in my wife’s voice, Mr. Holmes, and a look in her eyes which forbid doubt, - and I am sure that it was indeed my own safety that was in her mind. - There’s the whole case, and now I want your advice as to what I ought to - do. My own inclination is to put half a dozen of my farm lads in the - shrubbery, and when this fellow comes again to give him such a hiding that - he will leave us in peace for the future.” - </p> - <p> - “I fear it is too deep a case for such simple remedies,” said Holmes. “How - long can you stay in London?” - </p> - <p> - “I must go back to-day. I would not leave my wife alone all night for - anything. She is very nervous, and begged me to come back.” - </p> - <p> - “I daresay you are right. But if you could have stopped, I might possibly - have been able to return with you in a day or two. Meanwhile you will - leave me these papers, and I think that it is very likely that I shall be - able to pay you a visit shortly and to throw some light upon your case.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes preserved his calm professional manner until our visitor - had left us, although it was easy for me, who knew him so well, to see - that he was profoundly excited. The moment that Hilton Cubitt’s broad back - had disappeared through the door my comrade rushed to the table, laid out - all the slips of paper containing dancing men in front of him, and threw - himself into an intricate and elaborate calculation. For two hours I - watched him as he covered sheet after sheet of paper with figures and - letters, so completely absorbed in his task that he had evidently - forgotten my presence. Sometimes he was making progress and whistled and - sang at his work; sometimes he was puzzled, and would sit for long spells - with a furrowed brow and a vacant eye. Finally he sprang from his chair - with a cry of satisfaction, and walked up and down the room rubbing his - hands together. Then he wrote a long telegram upon a cable form. “If my - answer to this is as I hope, you will have a very pretty case to add to - your collection, Watson,” said he. “I expect that we shall be able to go - down to Norfolk tomorrow, and to take our friend some very definite news - as to the secret of his annoyance.” - </p> - <p> - I confess that I was filled with curiosity, but I was aware that Holmes - liked to make his disclosures at his own time and in his own way, so I - waited until it should suit him to take me into his confidence. - </p> - <p> - But there was a delay in that answering telegram, and two days of - impatience followed, during which Holmes pricked up his ears at every ring - of the bell. On the evening of the second there came a letter from Hilton - Cubitt. All was quiet with him, save that a long inscription had appeared - that morning upon the pedestal of the sundial. He inclosed a copy of it, - which is here reproduced: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> - <img src="images/img05.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="ELSIE-PREPARE-TO-MEET-THY-GOD"> - </div> - - <p> - Holmes bent over this grotesque frieze for some minutes, and then suddenly - sprang to his feet with an exclamation of surprise and dismay. His face - was haggard with anxiety. - </p> - <p> - “We have let this affair go far enough,” said he. “Is there a train to - North Walsham to-night?” - </p> - <p> - I turned up the time-table. The last had just gone. - </p> - <p> - “Then we shall breakfast early and take the very first in the morning,” - said Holmes. “Our presence is most urgently needed. Ah! here is our - expected cablegram. One moment, Mrs. Hudson, there may be an answer. No, - that is quite as I expected. This message makes it even more essential - that we should not lose an hour in letting Hilton Cubitt know how matters - stand, for it is a singular and a dangerous web in which our simple - Norfolk squire is entangled.” - </p> - <p> - So, indeed, it proved, and as I come to the dark conclusion of a story - which had seemed to me to be only childish and bizarre, I experience once - again the dismay and horror with which I was filled. Would that I had some - brighter ending to communicate to my readers, but these are the chronicles - of fact, and I must follow to their dark crisis the strange chain of - events which for some days made Riding Thorpe Manor a household word - through the length and breadth of England. - </p> - <p> - We had hardly alighted at North Walsham, and mentioned the name of our - destination, when the station-master hurried towards us. “I suppose that - you are the detectives from London?” said he. - </p> - <p> - A look of annoyance passed over Holmes’s face. - </p> - <p> - “What makes you think such a thing?” - </p> - <p> - “Because Inspector Martin from Norwich has just passed through. But maybe - you are the surgeons. She’s not dead—or wasn’t by last accounts. You - may be in time to save her yet—though it be for the gallows.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes’s brow was dark with anxiety. - </p> - <p> - “We are going to Riding Thorpe Manor,” said he, “but we have heard nothing - of what has passed there.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s a terrible business,” said the stationmaster. “They are shot, both - Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She shot him and then herself—so the - servants say. He’s dead and her life is despaired of. Dear, dear, one of - the oldest families in the county of Norfolk, and one of the most - honoured.” - </p> - <p> - Without a word Holmes hurried to a carriage, and during the long seven - miles’ drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom have I seen him so utterly - despondent. He had been uneasy during all our journey from town, and I had - observed that he had turned over the morning papers with anxious - attention, but now this sudden realization of his worst fears left him in - a blank melancholy. He leaned back in his seat, lost in gloomy - speculation. Yet there was much around to interest us, for we were passing - through as singular a countryside as any in England, where a few scattered - cottages represented the population of to-day, while on every hand - enormous square-towered churches bristled up from the flat green landscape - and told of the glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last the - violet rim of the German Ocean appeared over the green edge of the Norfolk - coast, and the driver pointed with his whip to two old brick and timber - gables which projected from a grove of trees. “That’s Riding Thorpe - Manor,” said he. - </p> - <p> - As we drove up to the porticoed front door, I observed in front of it, - beside the tennis lawn, the black tool-house and the pedestalled sundial - with which we had such strange associations. A dapper little man, with a - quick, alert manner and a waxed moustache, had just descended from a high - dog-cart. He introduced himself as Inspector Martin, of the Norfolk - Constabulary, and he was considerably astonished when he heard the name of - my companion. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Mr. Holmes, the crime was only committed at three this morning. How - could you hear of it in London and get to the spot as soon as I?” - </p> - <p> - “I anticipated it. I came in the hope of preventing it.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you must have important evidence, of which we are ignorant, for they - were said to be a most united couple.” - </p> - <p> - “I have only the evidence of the dancing men,” said Holmes. “I will - explain the matter to you later. Meanwhile, since it is too late to - prevent this tragedy, I am very anxious that I should use the knowledge - which I possess in order to insure that justice be done. Will you - associate me in your investigation, or will you prefer that I should act - independently?” - </p> - <p> - “I should be proud to feel that we were acting together, Mr. Holmes,” said - the inspector, earnestly. - </p> - <p> - “In that case I should be glad to hear the evidence and to examine the - premises without an instant of unnecessary delay.” - </p> - <p> - Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to do things in his - own fashion, and contented himself with carefully noting the results. The - local surgeon, an old, white-haired man, had just come down from Mrs. - Hilton Cubitt’s room, and he reported that her injuries were serious, but - not necessarily fatal. The bullet had passed through the front of her - brain, and it would probably be some time before she could regain - consciousness. On the question of whether she had been shot or had shot - herself, he would not venture to express any decided opinion. Certainly - the bullet had been discharged at very close quarters. There was only the - one pistol found in the room, two barrels of which had been emptied. Mr. - Hilton Cubitt had been shot through the heart. It was equally conceivable - that he had shot her and then himself, or that she had been the criminal, - for the revolver lay upon the floor midway between them. - </p> - <p> - “Has he been moved?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “We have moved nothing except the lady. We could not leave her lying - wounded upon the floor.” - </p> - <p> - “How long have you been here, Doctor?” - </p> - <p> - “Since four o’clock.” - </p> - <p> - “Anyone else?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, the constable here.” - </p> - <p> - “And you have touched nothing?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “You have acted with great discretion. Who sent for you?” - </p> - <p> - “The housemaid, Saunders.” - </p> - <p> - “Was it she who gave the alarm?” - </p> - <p> - “She and Mrs. King, the cook.” - </p> - <p> - “Where are they now?” - </p> - <p> - “In the kitchen, I believe.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I think we had better hear their story at once.” - </p> - <p> - The old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, had been turned into a court - of investigation. Holmes sat in a great, old-fashioned chair, his - inexorable eyes gleaming out of his haggard face. I could read in them a - set purpose to devote his life to this quest until the client whom he had - failed to save should at last be avenged. The trim Inspector Martin, the - old, grey-headed country doctor, myself, and a stolid village policeman - made up the rest of that strange company. - </p> - <p> - The two women told their story clearly enough. They had been aroused from - their sleep by the sound of an explosion, which had been followed a minute - later by a second one. They slept in adjoining rooms, and Mrs. King had - rushed in to Saunders. Together they had descended the stairs. The door of - the study was open, and a candle was burning upon the table. Their master - lay upon his face in the centre of the room. He was quite dead. Near the - window his wife was crouching, her head leaning against the wall. She was - horribly wounded, and the side of her face was red with blood. She - breathed heavily, but was incapable of saying anything. The passage, as - well as the room, was full of smoke and the smell of powder. The window - was certainly shut and fastened upon the inside. Both women were positive - upon the point. They had at once sent for the doctor and for the - constable. Then, with the aid of the groom and the stable-boy, they had - conveyed their injured mistress to her room. Both she and her husband had - occupied the bed. She was clad in her dress—he in his dressing-gown, - over his night-clothes. Nothing had been moved in the study. So far as - they knew, there had never been any quarrel between husband and wife. They - had always looked upon them as a very united couple. - </p> - <p> - These were the main points of the servants’ evidence. In answer to - Inspector Martin, they were clear that every door was fastened upon the - inside, and that no one could have escaped from the house. In answer to - Holmes, they both remembered that they were conscious of the smell of - powder from the moment that they ran out of their rooms upon the top - floor. “I commend that fact very carefully to your attention,” said Holmes - to his professional colleague. “And now I think that we are in a position - to undertake a thorough examination of the room.” - </p> - <p> - The study proved to be a small chamber, lined on three sides with books, - and with a writing-table facing an ordinary window, which looked out upon - the garden. Our first attention was given to the body of the unfortunate - squire, whose huge frame lay stretched across the room. His disordered - dress showed that he had been hastily aroused from sleep. The bullet had - been fired at him from the front, and had remained in his body, after - penetrating the heart. His death had certainly been instantaneous and - painless. There was no powder-marking either upon his dressing-gown or on - his hands. According to the country surgeon, the lady had stains upon her - face, but none upon her hand. - </p> - <p> - “The absence of the latter means nothing, though its presence may mean - everything,” said Holmes. “Unless the powder from a badly fitting - cartridge happens to spurt backward, one may fire many shots without - leaving a sign. I would suggest that Mr. Cubitt’s body may now be removed. - I suppose, Doctor, you have not recovered the bullet which wounded the - lady?” - </p> - <p> - “A serious operation will be necessary before that can be done. But there - are still four cartridges in the revolver. Two have been fired and two - wounds inflicted, so that each bullet can be accounted for.” - </p> - <p> - “So it would seem,” said Holmes. “Perhaps you can account also for the - bullet which has so obviously struck the edge of the window?” - </p> - <p> - He had turned suddenly, and his long, thin finger was pointing to a hole - which had been drilled right through the lower window-sash, about an inch - above the bottom. - </p> - <p> - “By George!” cried the inspector. “How ever did you see that?” - </p> - <p> - “Because I looked for it.” - </p> - <p> - “Wonderful!” said the country doctor. “You are certainly right, sir. Then - a third shot has been fired, and therefore a third person must have been - present. But who could that have been, and how could he have got away?” - </p> - <p> - “That is the problem which we are now about to solve,” said Sherlock - Holmes. “You remember, Inspector Martin, when the servants said that on - leaving their room they were at once conscious of a smell of powder, I - remarked that the point was an extremely important one?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir; but I confess I did not quite follow you.” - </p> - <p> - “It suggested that at the time of the firing, the window as well as the - door of the room had been open. Otherwise the fumes of powder could not - have been blown so rapidly through the house. A draught in the room was - necessary for that. Both door and window were only open for a very short - time, however.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you prove that?” - </p> - <p> - “Because the candle was not guttered.” - </p> - <p> - “Capital!” cried the inspector. “Capital! - </p> - <p> - “Feeling sure that the window had been open at the time of the tragedy, I - conceived that there might have been a third person in the affair, who - stood outside this opening and fired through it. Any shot directed at this - person might hit the sash. I looked, and there, sure enough, was the - bullet mark!” - </p> - <p> - “But how came the window to be shut and fastened?” - </p> - <p> - “The woman’s first instinct would be to shut and fasten the window. But, - halloa! What is this?” - </p> - <p> - It was a lady’s hand-bag which stood upon the study table—a trim - little handbag of crocodile-skin and silver. Holmes opened it and turned - the contents out. There were twenty fifty-pound notes of the Bank of - England, held together by an india-rubber band—nothing else. - </p> - <p> - “This must be preserved, for it will figure in the trial,” said Holmes, as - he handed the bag with its contents to the inspector. “It is now necessary - that we should try to throw some light upon this third bullet, which has - clearly, from the splintering of the wood, been fired from inside the - room. I should like to see Mrs. King, the cook, again. You said, Mrs. - King, that you were awakened by a <i>loud</i> explosion. When you said that, did - you mean that it seemed to you to be louder than the second one?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, it wakened me from my sleep, so it is hard to judge. But it - did seem very loud.” - </p> - <p> - “You don’t think that it might have been two shots fired almost at the - same instant?” - </p> - <p> - “I am sure I couldn’t say, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I believe that it was undoubtedly so. I rather think, Inspector Martin, - that we have now exhausted all that this room can teach us. If you will - kindly step round with me, we shall see what fresh evidence the garden has - to offer.” - </p> - <p> - A flower-bed extended up to the study window, and we all broke into an - exclamation as we approached it. The flowers were trampled down, and the - soft soil was imprinted all over with footmarks. Large, masculine feet - they were, with peculiarly long, sharp toes. Holmes hunted about among the - grass and leaves like a retriever after a wounded bird. Then, with a cry - of satisfaction, he bent forward and picked up a little brazen cylinder. - </p> - <p> - “I thought so,” said he, “the revolver had an ejector, and here is the - third cartridge. I really think, Inspector Martin, that our case is almost - complete.” - </p> - <p> - The country inspector’s face had shown his intense amazement at the rapid - and masterful progress of Holmes’s investigation. At first he had shown - some disposition to assert his own position, but now he was overcome with - admiration, and ready to follow without question wherever Holmes led. - </p> - <p> - “Whom do you suspect?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll go into that later. There are several points in this problem which I - have not been able to explain to you yet. Now that I have got so far, I - had best proceed on my own lines, and then clear the whole matter up once - and for all.” - </p> - <p> - “Just as you wish, Mr. Holmes, so long as we get our man.” - </p> - <p> - “I have no desire to make mysteries, but it is impossible at the moment of - action to enter into long and complex explanations. I have the threads of - this affair all in my hand. Even if this lady should never recover - consciousness, we can still reconstruct the events of last night and - insure that justice be done. First of all, I wish to know whether there is - any inn in this neighbourhood known as ‘Elrige’s’?” - </p> - <p> - The servants were cross-questioned, but none of them had heard of such a - place. The stable-boy threw a light upon the matter by remembering that a - farmer of that name lived some miles off, in the direction of East Ruston. - </p> - <p> - “Is it a lonely farm?” - </p> - <p> - “Very lonely, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps they have not heard yet of all that happened here during the - night?” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe not, sir.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes thought for a little, and then a curious smile played over his - face. - </p> - <p> - “Saddle a horse, my lad,” said he. “I shall wish you to take a note to - Elrige’s Farm.” - </p> - <p> - He took from his pocket the various slips of the dancing men. With these - in front of him, he worked for some time at the study-table. Finally he - handed a note to the boy, with directions to put it into the hands of the - person to whom it was addressed, and especially to answer no questions of - any sort which might be put to him. I saw the outside of the note, - addressed in straggling, irregular characters, very unlike Holmes’s usual - precise hand. It was consigned to Mr. Abe Slaney, Elriges Farm, East - Ruston, Norfolk. - </p> - <p> - “I think, Inspector,” Holmes remarked, “that you would do well to - telegraph for an escort, as, if my calculations prove to be correct, you - may have a particularly dangerous prisoner to convey to the county jail. - The boy who takes this note could no doubt forward your telegram. If there - is an afternoon train to town, Watson, I think we should do well to take - it, as I have a chemical analysis of some interest to finish, and this - investigation draws rapidly to a close.” - </p> - <p> - When the youth had been dispatched with the note, Sherlock Holmes gave his - instructions to the servants. If any visitor were to call asking for Mrs. - Hilton Cubitt, no information should be given as to her condition, but he - was to be shown at once into the drawing-room. He impressed these points - upon them with the utmost earnestness. Finally he led the way into the - drawing-room, with the remark that the business was now out of our hands, - and that we must while away the time as best we might until we could see - what was in store for us. The doctor had departed to his patients, and - only the inspector and myself remained. - </p> - <p> - “I think that I can help you to pass an hour in an interesting and - profitable manner,” said Holmes, drawing his chair up to the table, and - spreading out in front of him the various papers upon which were recorded - the antics of the dancing men. “As to you, friend Watson, I owe you every - atonement for having allowed your natural curiosity to remain so long - unsatisfied. To you, Inspector, the whole incident may appeal as a - remarkable professional study. I must tell you, first of all, the - interesting circumstances connected with the previous consultations which - Mr. Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker Street.” He then shortly - recapitulated the facts which have already been recorded. “I have here in - front of me these singular productions, at which one might smile, had they - not proved themselves to be the forerunners of so terrible a tragedy. I am - fairly familiar with all forms of secret writings, and am myself the - author of a trifling monograph upon the subject, in which I analyze one - hundred and sixty separate ciphers, but I confess that this is entirely - new to me. The object of those who invented the system has apparently been - to conceal that these characters convey a message, and to give the idea - that they are the mere random sketches of children. - </p> - <p> - “Having once recognized, however, that the symbols stood for letters, and - having applied the rules which guide us in all forms of secret writings, - the solution was easy enough. The first message submitted to me was so - short that it was impossible for me to do more than to say, with some - confidence, that the symbol XXX stood for E. As you are aware, E is the - most common letter in the English alphabet, and it predominates to so - marked an extent that even in a short sentence one would expect to find it - most often. Out of fifteen symbols in the first message, four were the - same, so it was reasonable to set this down as E. It is true that in some - cases the figure was bearing a flag, and in some cases not, but it was - probable, from the way in which the flags were distributed, that they were - used to break the sentence up into words. I accepted this as a hypothesis, - and noted that E was represented by - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img06.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="E"> - </div> - - <p> - “But now came the real difficulty of the inquiry. The order of the English - letters after E is by no means well marked, and any preponderance which - may be shown in an average of a printed sheet may be reversed in a single - short sentence. Speaking roughly, T, A, O, I, N, S, H, R, D, and L are the - numerical order in which letters occur, but T, A, O, and I are very nearly - abreast of each other, and it would be an endless task to try each - combination until a meaning was arrived at. I therefore waited for fresh - material. In my second interview with Mr. Hilton Cubitt he was able to - give me two other short sentences and one message, which appeared—since - there was no flag—to be a single word. Here are the symbols. Now, in - the single word I have already got the two E’s coming second and fourth in - a word of five letters. It might be ‘sever,’ or ‘lever,’ or ‘never.’ There - can be no question that the latter as a reply to an appeal is far the most - probable, and the circumstances pointed to its being a reply written by - the lady. Accepting it as correct, we are now able to say that the symbols - stand respectively for N, V, and R. - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img07.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="N-V-R"> - </div> - - <p> - “Even now I was in considerable difficulty, but a happy thought put me in - possession of several other letters. It occurred to me that if these - appeals came, as I expected, from someone who had been intimate with the - lady in her early life, a combination which contained two E’s with three - letters between might very well stand for the name ‘ELSIE.’ On examination - I found that such a combination formed the termination of the message - which was three times repeated. It was certainly some appeal to ‘Elsie.’ - In this way I had got my L, S, and I. But what appeal could it be? There - were only four letters in the word which preceded ‘Elsie,’ and it ended in - E. Surely the word must be ‘COME.’ I tried all other four letters ending - in E, but could find none to fit the case. So now I was in possession of - C, O, and M, and I was in a position to attack the first message once - more, dividing it into words and putting dots for each symbol which was - still unknown. So treated, it worked out in this fashion: - </p> - <p class="center"> - .M .ERE ..E SL.NE. - </p> - <p> - “Now the first letter <i>can</i> only be A, which is a most useful discovery, - since it occurs no fewer than three times in this short sentence, and the - H is also apparent in the second word. Now it becomes: - </p> - <p class="center"> - AM HERE A.E SLANE. - </p> - <p class="noindent"> - Or, filling in the obvious vacancies in the name: - </p> - <p class="center"> - AM HERE ABE SLANEY. - </p> - <p class="noindent"> - I had so many letters now that I could proceed with considerable - confidence to the second message, which worked out in this fashion: - </p> - <p class="center"> - A. ELRI. ES. - </p> - <p class="noindent"> - Here I could only make sense by putting T and G for the missing letters, - and supposing that the name was that of some house or inn at which the - writer was staying.” - </p> - <p> - Inspector Martin and I had listened with the utmost interest to the full - and clear account of how my friend had produced results which had led to - so complete a command over our difficulties. - </p> - <p> - “What did you do then, sir?” asked the inspector. - </p> - <p> - “I had every reason to suppose that this Abe Slaney was an American, since - Abe is an American contraction, and since a letter from America had been - the starting-point of all the trouble. I had also every cause to think - that there was some criminal secret in the matter. The lady’s allusions to - her past, and her refusal to take her husband into her confidence, both - pointed in that direction. I therefore cabled to my friend, Wilson - Hargreave, of the New York Police Bureau, who has more than once made use - of my knowledge of London crime. I asked him whether the name of Abe - Slaney was known to him. Here is his reply: ‘The most dangerous crook in - Chicago.’ On the very evening upon which I had his answer, Hilton Cubitt - sent me the last message from Slaney. Working with known letters, it took - this form: - </p> - <p class="center"> - ELSIE .RE.ARE TO MEET THY GO. - </p> - <p class="noindent"> - The addition of a P and a D completed a message which showed me that the - rascal was proceeding from persuasion to threats, and my knowledge of the - crooks of Chicago prepared me to find that he might very rapidly put his - words into action. I at once came to Norfolk with my friend and colleague, - Dr. Watson, but, unhappily, only in time to find that the worst had - already occurred.” - </p> - <p> - “It is a privilege to be associated with you in the handling of a case,” - said the inspector, warmly. “You will excuse me, however, if I speak - frankly to you. You are only answerable to yourself, but I have to answer - to my superiors. If this Abe Slaney, living at Elrige’s, is indeed the - murderer, and if he has made his escape while I am seated here, I should - certainly get into serious trouble.” - </p> - <p> - “You need not be uneasy. He will not try to escape.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know?” - </p> - <p> - “To fly would be a confession of guilt.” - </p> - <p> - “Then let us go arrest him.” - </p> - <p> - “I expect him here every instant.” - </p> - <p> - “But why should he come?” - </p> - <p> - “Because I have written and asked him.” - </p> - <p> - “But this is incredible, Mr. Holmes! Why should he come because you have - asked him? Would not such a request rather rouse his suspicions and cause - him to fly?” - </p> - <p> - “I think I have known how to frame the letter,” said Sherlock Holmes. “In - fact, if I am not very much mistaken, here is the gentleman himself coming - up the drive.” - </p> - <p> - A man was striding up the path which led to the door. He was a tall, - handsome, swarthy fellow, clad in a suit of grey flannel, with a Panama - hat, a bristling black beard, and a great, aggressive hooked nose, and - flourishing a cane as he walked. He swaggered up a path as if the place - belonged to him, and we heard his loud, confident peal at the bell. - </p> - <p> - “I think, gentlemen,” said Holmes, quietly, “that we had best take up our - position behind the door. Every precaution is necessary when dealing with - such a fellow. You will need your handcuffs, Inspector. You can leave the - talking to me.” - </p> - <p> - We waited in silence for a minute—one of those minutes which one can - never forget. Then the door opened and the man stepped in. In an instant - Holmes clapped a pistol to his head, and Martin slipped the handcuffs over - his wrists. It was all done so swiftly and deftly that the fellow was - helpless before he knew that he was attacked. He glared from one to the - other of us with a pair of blazing black eyes. Then he burst into a bitter - laugh. - </p> - <p> - “Well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. I seem to have - knocked up against something hard. But I came here in answer to a letter - from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt. Don’t tell me that she is in this? Don’t tell me - that she helped to set a trap for me?” - </p> - <p> - “Mrs. Hilton Cubitt was seriously injured, and is at death’s door.” - </p> - <p> - The man gave a hoarse cry of grief, which rang through the house. - </p> - <p> - “You’re crazy!” he cried, fiercely. “It was he that was hurt, not she. Who - would have hurt little Elsie? I may have threatened her—God forgive - me!—but I would not have touched a hair of her pretty head. Take it - back—you! Say that she is not hurt!” - </p> - <p> - “She was found badly wounded, by the side of her dead husband.” - </p> - <p> - He sank with a deep groan on the settee and buried his face in his - manacled hands. For five minutes he was silent. Then he raised his face - once more, and spoke with the cold composure of despair. - </p> - <p> - “I have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen,” said he. “If I shot the man - he had his shot at me, and there’s no murder in that. But if you think I - could have hurt that woman, then you don’t know either me or her. I tell - you, there was never a man in this world loved a woman more than I loved - her. I had a right to her. She was pledged to me years ago. Who was this - Englishman that he should come between us? I tell you that I had the first - right to her, and that I was only claiming my own.” - </p> - <p> - “She broke away from your influence when she found the man that you are,” - said Holmes, sternly. “She fled from America to avoid you, and she married - an honourable gentleman in England. You dogged her and followed her and - made her life a misery to her, in order to induce her to abandon the - husband whom she loved and respected in order to fly with you, whom she - feared and hated. You have ended by bringing about the death of a noble - man and driving his wife to suicide. That is your record in this business, - Mr. Abe Slaney, and you will answer for it to the law.” - </p> - <p> - “If Elsie dies, I care nothing what becomes of me,” said the American. He - opened one of his hands, and looked at a note crumpled up in his palm. - “See here, mister! he cried, with a gleam of suspicion in his eyes, - “you’re not trying to scare me over this, are you? If the lady is hurt as - bad as you say, who was it that wrote this note?” He tossed it forward on - to the table. - </p> - <p> - “I wrote it, to bring you here.” - </p> - <p> - “You wrote it? There was no one on earth outside the Joint who knew the - secret of the dancing men. How came you to write it?” - </p> - <p> - “What one man can invent another can discover,” said Holmes. “There is a - cab coming to convey you to Norwich, Mr. Slaney. But meanwhile, you have - time to make some small reparation for the injury you have wrought. Are - you aware that Mrs. Hilton Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicion - of the murder of her husband, and that it was only my presence here, and - the knowledge which I happened to possess, which has saved her from the - accusation? The least that you owe her is to make it clear to the whole - world that she was in no way, directly or indirectly, responsible for his - tragic end.” - </p> - <p> - “I ask nothing better,” said the American. “I guess the very best case I - can make for myself is the absolute naked truth.” - </p> - <p> - “It is my duty to warn you that it will be used against you,” cried the - inspector, with the magnificent fair play of the British criminal law. - </p> - <p> - Slaney shrugged his shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll chance that,” said he. “First of all, I want you gentlemen to - understand that I have known this lady since she was a child. There were - seven of us in a gang in Chicago, and Elsie’s father was the boss of the - Joint. He was a clever man, was old Patrick. It was he who invented that - writing, which would pass as a child’s scrawl unless you just happened to - have the key to it. Well, Elsie learned some of our ways, but she couldn’t - stand the business, and she had a bit of honest money of her own, so she - gave us all the slip and got away to London. She had been engaged to me, - and she would have married me, I believe, if I had taken over another - profession, but she would have nothing to do with anything on the cross. - It was only after her marriage to this Englishman that I was able to find - out where she was. I wrote to her, but got no answer. After that I came - over, and, as letters were no use, I put my messages where she could read - them. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I have been here a month now. I lived in that farm, where I had a - room down below, and could get in and out every night, and no one the - wiser. I tried all I could to coax Elsie away. I knew that she read the - messages, for once she wrote an answer under one of them. Then my temper - got the better of me, and I began to threaten her. She sent me a letter - then, imploring me to go away, and saying that it would break her heart if - any scandal should come upon her husband. She said that she would come - down when her husband was asleep at three in the morning, and speak with - me through the end window, if I would go away afterwards and leave her in - peace. She came down and brought money with her, trying to bribe me to go. - This made me mad, and I caught her arm and tried to pull her through the - window. At that moment in rushed the husband with his revolver in his - hand. Elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and we were face to face. I was - heeled also, and I held up my gun to scare him off and let me get away. He - fired and missed me. I pulled off almost at the same instant, and down he - dropped. I made away across the garden, and as I went I heard the window - shut behind me. That’s God’s truth, gentlemen, every word of it, and I - heard no more about it until that lad came riding up with a note which - made me walk in here, like a jay, and give myself into your hands.” - </p> - <p> - A cab had driven up whilst the American had been talking. Two uniformed - policemen sat inside. Inspector Martin rose and touched his prisoner on - the shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “It is time for us to go.” - </p> - <p> - “Can I see her first?” - </p> - <p> - “No, she is not conscious. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I only hope that if ever - again I have an important case, I shall have the good fortune to have you - by my side.” - </p> - <p> - We stood at the window and watched the cab drive away. As I turned back, - my eye caught the pellet of paper which the prisoner had tossed upon the - table. It was the note with which Holmes had decoyed him. - </p> - <p> - “See if you can read it, Watson,” said he, with a smile. - </p> - <p> - It contained no word, but this little line of dancing men: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:90%;"> - <img src="images/img08.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="COME-HERE-AT-ONCE"> - </div> - - <p> - “If you use the code which I have explained,” said Holmes, “you will find - that it simply means ‘Come here at once.’ I was convinced that it was an - invitation which he would not refuse, since he could never imagine that it - could come from anyone but the lady. And so, my dear Watson, we have ended - by turning the dancing men to good when they have so often been the agents - of evil, and I think that I have fulfilled my promise of giving you - something unusual for your notebook. Three-forty is our train, and I fancy - we should be back in Baker Street for dinner.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - Only one word of epilogue. The American, Abe Slaney, was condemned to - death at the winter assizes at Norwich, but his penalty was changed to - penal servitude in consideration of mitigating circumstances, and the - certainty that Hilton Cubitt had fired the first shot. Of Mrs. Hilton - Cubitt I only know that I have heard she recovered entirely, and that she - still remains a widow, devoting her whole life to the care of the poor and - to the administration of her husband’s estate. - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap04"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE SOLITARY CYCLIST</h2> - - <p> - From the years 1894 to 1901 inclusive, Mr. Sherlock Holmes was a very busy - man. It is safe to say that there was no public case of any difficulty in - which he was not consulted during those eight years, and there were - hundreds of private cases, some of them of the most intricate and - extraordinary character, in which he played a prominent part. Many - startling successes and a few unavoidable failures were the outcome of - this long period of continuous work. As I have preserved very full notes - of all these cases, and was myself personally engaged in many of them, it - may be imagined that it is no easy task to know which I should select to - lay before the public. I shall, however, preserve my former rule, and give - the preference to those cases which derive their interest not so much from - the brutality of the crime as from the ingenuity and dramatic quality of - the solution. For this reason I will now lay before the reader the facts - connected with Miss Violet Smith, the solitary cyclist of Charlington, and - the curious sequel of our investigation, which culminated in unexpected - tragedy. It is true that the circumstance did not admit of any striking - illustration of those powers for which my friend was famous, but there - were some points about the case which made it stand out in those long - records of crime from which I gather the material for these little - narratives. - </p> - <p> - On referring to my notebook for the year 1895, I find that it was upon - Saturday, the 23rd of April, that we first heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her - visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he was immersed - at the moment in a very abstruse and complicated problem concerning the - peculiar persecution to which John Vincent Harden, the well-known tobacco - millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, who loved above all things - precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted - his attention from the matter in hand. And yet, without a harshness which - was foreign to his nature, it was impossible to refuse to listen to the - story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, graceful, and queenly, who - presented herself at Baker Street late in the evening, and implored his - assistance and advice. It was vain to urge that his time was already fully - occupied, for the young lady had come with the determination to tell her - story, and it was evident that nothing short of force could get her out of - the room until she had done so. With a resigned air and a somewhat weary - smile, Holmes begged the beautiful intruder to take a seat, and to inform - us what it was that was troubling her. - </p> - <p> - “At least it cannot be your health,” said he, as his keen eyes darted over - her, “so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy.” - </p> - <p> - She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slight - roughening of the side of the sole caused by the friction of the edge of - the pedal. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to do with - my visit to you to-day.” - </p> - <p> - My friend took the lady’s ungloved hand, and examined it with as close an - attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would show to a specimen. - </p> - <p> - “You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business,” said he, as he dropped - it. “I nearly fell into the error of supposing that you were typewriting. - Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observe the spatulate - finger-ends, Watson, which is common to both professions? There is a - spirituality about the face, however”—she gently turned it towards - the light—“which the typewriter does not generate. This lady is a - musician.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music.” - </p> - <p> - “In the country, I presume, from your complexion.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey.” - </p> - <p> - “A beautiful neighbourhood, and full of the most interesting associations. - You remember, Watson, that it was near there that we took Archie Stamford, - the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you, near Farnham, on - the borders of Surrey?” - </p> - <p> - The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the following - curious statement: - </p> - <p> - “My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted the - orchestra at the old Imperial Theatre. My mother and I were left without a - relation in the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to Africa - twenty-five years ago, and we have never had a word from him since. When - father died, we were left very poor, but one day we were told that there - was an advertisement in <i>The Times</i>, inquiring for our whereabouts. You can - imagine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had left us a - fortune. We went at once to the lawyer whose name was given in the paper. - There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers and Mr. Woodley, who were home - on a visit from South Africa. They said that my uncle was a friend of - theirs, that he had died some months before in great poverty in - Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his last breath to hunt up - his relations, and see that they were in no want. It seemed strange to us - that Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when he was alive, should be so - careful to look after us when he was dead, but Mr. Carruthers explained - that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the death of his - brother, and so felt responsible for our fate.” - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me,” said Holmes. “When was this interview?” - </p> - <p> - “Last December—four months ago.” - </p> - <p> - “Pray proceed.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for ever - making eyes at me—a coarse, puffy-faced, red-moustached young man, - with his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thought that - he was perfectly hateful—and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me - to know such a person.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Cyril is his name!” said Holmes, smiling. - </p> - <p> - The young lady blushed and laughed. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mr. Holmes, Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer, and we hope to be - married at the end of the summer. Dear me, how <i>did</i> I get talking about - him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectly odious, but - that Mr. Carruthers, who was a much older man, was more agreeable. He was - a dark, sallow, clean-shaven, silent person, but he had polite manners and - a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding that we - were very poor, he suggested that I should come and teach music to his - only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did not like to leave my mother, on - which he suggested that I should go home to her every week-end, and he - offered me a hundred a year, which was certainly splendid pay. So it ended - by my accepting, and I went down to Chiltern Grange, about six miles from - Farnham. Mr. Carruthers was a widower, but he had engaged a lady - housekeeper, a very respectable, elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to - look after his establishment. The child was a dear, and everything - promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very kind and very musical, and we had - most pleasant evenings together. Every week-end I went home to my mother - in town. - </p> - <p> - “The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the red-moustached Mr. - Woodley. He came for a visit of a week, and oh! it seemed three months to - me. He was a dreadful person—a bully to everyone else, but to me - something infinitely worse. He made odious love to me, boasted of his - wealth, said that if I married him I could have the finest diamonds in - London, and finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seized - me in his arms one day after dinner—he was hideously strong—and - swore that he would not let me go until I had kissed him. Mr. Carruthers - came in and tore him from me, on which he turned upon his own host, - knocking him down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his - visit, as you can imagine. Mr. Carruthers apologized to me next day, and - assured me that I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I have - not seen Mr. Woodley since. - </p> - <p> - “And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which has caused - me to ask your advice to-day. You must know that every Saturday forenoon I - ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station, in order to get the 12:22 to town. - The road from Chiltern Grange is a lonely one, and at one spot it is - particularly so, for it lies for over a mile between Charlington Heath - upon one side and the woods which lie round Charlington Hall upon the - other. You could not find a more lonely tract of road anywhere, and it is - quite rare to meet so much as a cart, or a peasant, until you reach the - high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeks ago I was passing this place, - when I chanced to look back over my shoulder, and about two hundred yards - behind me I saw a man, also on a bicycle. He seemed to be a middle-aged - man, with a short, dark beard. I looked back before I reached Farnham, but - the man was gone, so I thought no more about it. But you can imagine how - surprised I was, Mr. Holmes, when, on my return on the Monday, I saw the - same man on the same stretch of road. My astonishment was increased when - the incident occurred again, exactly as before, on the following Saturday - and Monday. He always kept his distance and did not molest me in any way, - but still it certainly was very odd. I mentioned it to Mr. Carruthers, who - seemed interested in what I said, and told me that he had ordered a horse - and trap, so that in future I should not pass over these lonely roads - without some companion. - </p> - <p> - “The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some reason they - were not delivered, and again I had to cycle to the station. That was this - morning. You can think that I looked out when I came to Charlington Heath, - and there, sure enough, was the man, exactly as he had been the two weeks - before. He always kept so far from me that I could not clearly see his - face, but it was certainly someone whom I did not know. He was dressed in - a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thing about his face that I could - clearly see was his dark beard. To-day I was not alarmed, but I was filled - with curiosity, and I determined to find out who he was and what he - wanted. I slowed down my machine, but he slowed down his. Then I stopped - altogether, but he stopped also. Then I laid a trap for him. There is a - sharp turning of the road, and I pedalled very quickly round this, and - then I stopped and waited. I expected him to shoot round and pass me - before he could stop. But he never appeared. Then I went back and looked - round the corner. I could see a mile of road, but he was not on it. To - make it the more extraordinary, there was no side road at this point down - which he could have gone.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. “This case certainly presents some - features of its own,” said he. “How much time elapsed between your turning - the corner and your discovery that the road was clear?” - </p> - <p> - “Two or three minutes.” - </p> - <p> - “Then he could not have retreated down the road, and you say that there - are no side roads?” - </p> - <p> - “None.” - </p> - <p> - “Then he certainly took a footpath on one side or the other.” - </p> - <p> - “It could not have been on the side of the heath, or I should have seen - him.” - </p> - <p> - “So, by the process of exclusion, we arrive at the fact that he made his - way toward Charlington Hall, which, as I understand, is situated in its - own grounds on one side of the road. Anything else?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt I should - not be happy until I had seen you and had your advice.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes sat in silence for some little time. - </p> - <p> - “Where is the gentleman to whom you are engaged?” he asked at last. - </p> - <p> - “He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry.” - </p> - <p> - “He would not pay you a surprise visit?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Mr. Holmes! As if I should not know him!” - </p> - <p> - “Have you had any other admirers?” - </p> - <p> - “Several before I knew Cyril.” - </p> - <p> - “And since?” - </p> - <p> - “There was this dreadful man, Woodley, if you can call him an admirer.” - </p> - <p> - “No one else?” - </p> - <p> - Our fair client seemed a little confused. - </p> - <p> - “Who was he?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it had seemed to me sometimes - that my employer, Mr. Carruthers, takes a great deal of interest in me. We - are thrown rather together. I play his accompaniments in the evening. He - has never said anything. He is a perfect gentleman. But a girl always - knows.” - </p> - <p> - “Ha!” Holmes looked grave. “What does he do for a living?” - </p> - <p> - “He is a rich man.” - </p> - <p> - “No carriages or horses?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, at least he is fairly well-to-do. But he goes into the city two or - three times a week. He is deeply interested in South African gold shares.” - </p> - <p> - “You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busy - just now, but I will find time to make some inquiries into your case. In - the meantime, take no step without letting me know. Good-bye, and I trust - that we shall have nothing but good news from you.” - </p> - <p> - “It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should have - followers,” said Holmes, he pulled at his meditative pipe, “but for choice - not on bicycles in lonely country roads. Some secretive lover, beyond all - doubt. But there are curious and suggestive details about the case, - Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “That he should appear only at that point?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants of - Charlington Hall. Then, again, how about the connection between Carruthers - and Woodley, since they appear to be men of such a different type? How - came they <i>both</i> to be so keen upon looking up Ralph Smith’s relations? One - more point. What sort of a <i>ménage</i> is it which pays double the market price - for a governess but does not keep a horse, although six miles from the - station? Odd, Watson—very odd!” - </p> - <p> - “You will go down?” - </p> - <p> - “No, my dear fellow, <i>you</i> will go down. This may be some trifling intrigue, - and I cannot break my other important research for the sake of it. On - Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will conceal yourself near - Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts for yourself, and act as - your own judgment advises. Then, having inquired as to the occupants of - the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And now, Watson, not - another word of the matter until we have a few solid stepping-stones on - which we may hope to get across to our solution.” - </p> - <p> - We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by the - train which leaves Waterloo at 9:50, so I started early and caught the - 9:13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed to - Charlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the young - lady’s adventure, for the road runs between the open heath on one side and - an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studded with - magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichen-studded stone, each - side pillar surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems, but besides this - central carriage drive I observed several points where there were gaps in - the hedge and paths leading through them. The house was invisible from the - road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and decay. - </p> - <p> - The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleaming - magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one of - these clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the gateway of - the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had been - deserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the - opposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark - suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the - Charlington grounds, he sprang from his machine and led it through a gap - in the hedge, disappearing from my view. - </p> - <p> - A quarter of an hour passed, and then a second cyclist appeared. This time - it was the young lady coming from the station. I saw her look about her as - she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the man emerged from - his hiding-place, sprang upon his cycle, and followed her. In all the - broad landscape those were the only moving figures, the graceful girl - sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behind her bending low - over his handle-bar with a curiously furtive suggestion in every movement. - She looked back at him and slowed her pace. He slowed also. She stopped. - He at once stopped, too, keeping two hundred yards behind her. Her next - movement was as unexpected as it was spirited. She suddenly whisked her - wheels round and dashed straight at him. He was as quick as she, however, - and darted off in desperate flight. Presently she came back up the road - again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigning to take any further - notice of her silent attendant. He had turned also, and still kept his - distance until the curve of the road hid them from my sight. - </p> - <p> - I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so, for - presently the man reappeared, cycling slowly back. He turned in at the - Hall gates, and dismounted from his machine. For some minutes I could see - him standing among the trees. His hands were raised, and he seemed to be - settling his necktie. Then he mounted his cycle, and rode away from me - down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered through - the trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the old grey building with - its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the drive ran through a dense shrubbery, - and I saw no more of my man. - </p> - <p> - However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning’s work, and - I walked back in high spirits to Farnham. The local house agent could tell - me nothing about Charlington Hall, and referred me to a well-known firm in - Pall Mall. There I halted on my way home, and met with courtesy from the - representative. No, I could not have Charlington Hall for the summer. I - was just too late. It had been let about a month ago. Mr. Williamson was - the name of the tenant. He was a respectable, elderly gentleman. The - polite agent was afraid he could say no more, as the affairs of his - clients were not matters which he could discuss. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report which I was - able to present to him that evening, but it did not elicit that word of - curt praise which I had hoped for and should have valued. On the contrary, - his austere face was even more severe than usual as he commented upon the - things that I had done and the things that I had not. - </p> - <p> - “Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should have been - behind the hedge, then you would have had a close view of this interesting - person. As it is, you were some hundreds of yards away and can tell me - even less than Miss Smith. She thinks she does not know the man; I am - convinced she does. Why, otherwise, should he be so desperately anxious - that she should not get so near him as to see his features? You describe - him as bending over the handle-bar. Concealment again, you see. You really - have done remarkably badly. He returns to the house, and you want to find - out who he is. You come to a London house agent!” - </p> - <p> - “What should I have done?” I cried, with some heat. - </p> - <p> - “Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of country gossip. - They would have told you every name, from the master to the scullery-maid. - Williamson? It conveys nothing to my mind. If he is an elderly man he is - not this active cyclist who sprints away from that young lady’s athletic - pursuit. What have we gained by your expedition? The knowledge that the - girl’s story is true. I never doubted it. That there is a connection - between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubted that either. That the - Hall is tenanted by Williamson. Who’s the better for that? Well, well, my - dear sir, don’t look so depressed. We can do little more until next - Saturday, and in the meantime I may make one or two inquiries myself.” - </p> - <p> - Next morning, we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly and - accurately the very incidents which I had seen, but the pith of the letter - lay in the postscript: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - “I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes, when I - tell you that my place here has become difficult, owing to the fact that - my employer has proposed marriage to me. I am convinced that his feelings - are most deep and most honourable. At the same time, my promise is of - course given. He took my refusal very seriously, but also very gently. - You can understand, however, that the situation is a little - strained.” - </p> - <p> - “Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters,” said - Holmes, thoughtfully, as he finished the letter. “The case - certainly presents more features of interest and more possibility of - development than I had originally thought. I should be none the worse for - a quiet, peaceful day in the country, and I am inclined to run down this - afternoon and test one or two theories which I have formed.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes’s quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he - arrived at Baker Street late in the evening, with a cut lip and a - discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation - which would have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland Yard - investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures and laughed - heartily as he recounted them. - </p> - <p> - “I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat,” said he. “You - are aware that I have some proficiency in the good old British sport of - boxing. Occasionally, it is of service; to-day, for example, I should have - come to very ignominious grief without it.” - </p> - <p> - I begged him to tell me what had occurred. - </p> - <p> - “I found that country pub which I had already recommended to your notice, - and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in the bar, and a garrulous - landlord was giving me all that I wanted. Williamson is a white-bearded - man, and he lives alone with a small staff of servants at the Hall. There - is some rumour that he is or has been a clergyman, but one or two incidents - of his short residence at the Hall struck me as peculiarly - unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at a clerical agency, - and they tell me that there <i>was</i> a man of that name in orders, whose career - has been a singularly dark one. The landlord further informed me that - there are usually week-end visitors—‘a warm lot, sir’—at the - Hall, and especially one gentleman with a red moustache, Mr. Woodley by - name, who was always there. We had got as far as this, when who should - walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the - tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was I? What did I want? - What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine flow of language, and - his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse by a vicious - backhander, which I failed to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were - delicious. It was a straight left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as - you see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart. So ended my country trip, and - it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border - has not been much more profitable than your own.” - </p> - <p> - The Thursday brought us another letter from our client. - </p> - <p class="letter"> - You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes (said she), to hear that I am leaving - Mr. Carruthers’s employment. Even the high pay cannot reconcile me to the - discomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up to town, and I do not - intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so the dangers of the - lonely road, if there ever were any dangers, are now over.<br> - As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strained - situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the reappearance of that odious - man, Mr. Woodley. He was always hideous, but he looks more awful than ever - now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is much disfigured. I - saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not meet him. He had - a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed much excited afterwards. - Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, for he did not sleep here, - and yet I caught a glimpse of him again this morning, slinking about in - the shrubbery. I would sooner have a savage wild animal loose about the - place. I loathe and fear him more than I can say. How <i>can</i> Mr. Carruthers - endure such a creature for a moment? However, all my troubles will be over - on Saturday. - </p> - <p> - “So I trust, Watson, so I trust,” said Holmes, gravely. “There is some - deep intrigue going on round that little woman, and it is our duty to see - that no one molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, that we - must spare time to run down together on Saturday morning and make sure - that this curious and inclusive investigation has no untoward ending.” - </p> - <p> - I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view of the case, - which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre than dangerous. That a - man should lie in wait for and follow a very handsome woman is no - unheard-of thing, and if he has so little audacity that he not only dared - not address her, but even fled from her approach, he was not a very - formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley was a very different person, - but, except on one occasion, he had not molested our client, and now he - visited the house of Carruthers without intruding upon her presence. The - man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of those week-end parties at the - Hall of which the publican had spoken, but who he was, or what he wanted, - was as obscure as ever. It was the severity of Holmes’s manner and the - fact that he slipped a revolver into his pocket before leaving our rooms - which impressed me with the feeling that tragedy might prove to lurk - behind this curious train of events. - </p> - <p> - A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the - heath-covered countryside, with the glowing clumps of flowering gorse, - seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns and - drabs and slate greys of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad, - sandy road inhaling the fresh morning air and rejoicing in the music of - the birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the road on - the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill, we could see the grim Hall bristling out - from amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were still younger - than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down the long - tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brown of the - heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a black dot, we could - see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave an exclamation of - impatience. - </p> - <p> - “I have given a margin of half an hour,” said he. “If that is her trap, - she must be making for the earlier train. I fear, Watson, that she will be - past Charlington before we can possibly meet her.” - </p> - <p> - From the instant that we passed the rise, we could no longer see the - vehicle, but we hastened onward at such a pace that my sedentary life - began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes, - however, was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores of - nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until - suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I saw - him throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the same - instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins trailing, - appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us. - </p> - <p> - “Too late, Watson, too late!” cried Holmes, as I ran panting to his side. - “Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train! It’s abduction, - Watson—abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! Stop - the horse! That’s right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I can repair the - consequences of my own blunder.” - </p> - <p> - We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, gave - it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along the road. As we - turned the curve, the whole stretch of road between the Hall and the heath - was opened up. I grasped Holmes’s arm. - </p> - <p> - “That’s the man!” I gasped. - </p> - <p> - A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down and his - shoulders rounded, as he put every ounce of energy that he possessed on - to the pedals. He was flying like a racer. Suddenly he raised his bearded - face, saw us close to him, and pulled up, springing from his machine. - That coal-black beard was in singular contrast to the pallor of his face, - and his eyes were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at us and at - the dog-cart. Then a look of amazement came over his face. - </p> - <p> - “Halloa! Stop there!” he shouted, holding his bicycle to - block our road. “Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull up, - man!” he yelled, drawing a pistol from his side pocket. “Pull - up, I say, or, by George, I’ll put a bullet into your horse.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the cart. - </p> - <p> - “You’re the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?” he said, in - his quick, clear way. - </p> - <p> - “That’s what I’m asking you. You’re in her dog-cart. You ought to know - where she is.” - </p> - <p> - “We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it. We drove back to - help the young lady.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord! Good Lord! What shall I do?” cried the stranger, in an ecstasy - of despair. “They’ve got her, that hell-hound Woodley and the blackguard - parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Stand by me and - we’ll save her, if I have to leave my carcass in Charlington Wood.” - </p> - <p> - He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap in the hedge. - Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse grazing beside the road, - followed Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “This is where they came through,” said he, pointing to the marks of - several feet upon the muddy path. “Halloa! Stop a minute! Who’s this in - the bush?” - </p> - <p> - It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, with - leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees drawn up, a - terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance at his - wound told me that it had not penetrated the bone. - </p> - <p> - “That’s Peter, the groom,” cried the stranger. “He drove her. The beasts - have pulled him off and clubbed him. Let him lie; we can’t do him any - good, but we may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman.” - </p> - <p> - We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We had - reached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when Holmes pulled up. - </p> - <p> - “They didn’t go to the house. Here are their marks on the left—here, - beside the laurel bushes. Ah! I said so.” - </p> - <p> - As he spoke, a woman’s shrill scream—a scream which vibrated with a - frenzy of horror—burst from the thick, green clump of bushes in - front of us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a - gurgle. - </p> - <p> - “This way! This way! They are in the bowling-alley,” cried the stranger, - darting through the bushes. “Ah, the cowardly dogs! Follow me, gentlemen! - Too late! too late! by the living Jingo!” - </p> - <p> - We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward surrounded by - ancient trees. On the farther side of it, under the shadow of a mighty - oak, there stood a singular group of three people. One was a woman, our - client, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her - stood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legs - parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding crop, his whole - attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, - grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweed suit, had - evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed his - prayer-book as we appeared, and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the - back in jovial congratulation. - </p> - <p> - “They’re married!” I gasped. - </p> - <p> - “Come on!” cried our guide, “come on!” He rushed across the glade, Holmes - and I at his heels. As we approached, the lady staggered against the trunk - of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed to us with - mock politeness, and the bully, Woodley, advanced with a shout of brutal - and exultant laughter. - </p> - <p> - “You can take your beard off, Bob,” said he. “I know you, right enough. - Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me to be able to - introduce you to Mrs. Woodley.” - </p> - <p> - Our guide’s answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard - which had disguised him and threw it on the ground, disclosing a long, - sallow, clean-shaven face below it. Then he raised his revolver and - covered the young ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerous - riding-crop swinging in his hand. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said our ally, “I <i>am</i> Bob Carruthers, and I’ll see this woman - righted, if I have to swing for it. I told you what I’d do if you molested - her, and, by the Lord! I’ll be as good as my word.” - </p> - <p> - “You’re too late. She’s my wife.” - </p> - <p> - “No, she’s your widow.” - </p> - <p> - His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front of - Woodley’s waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell upon his back, - his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. The - old man, still clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of foul - oaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a revolver of his own, but, - before he could raise it, he was looking down the barrel of Holmes’s - weapon. - </p> - <p> - “Enough of this,” said my friend, coldly. “Drop that pistol! Watson, pick - it up! Hold it to his head. Thank you. You, Carruthers, give me that - revolver. We’ll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!” - </p> - <p> - “Who are you, then?” - </p> - <p> - “My name is Sherlock Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord!” - </p> - <p> - “You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police until - their arrival. Here, you!” he shouted to a frightened groom, who had - appeared at the edge of the glade. “Come here. Take this note as hard as - you can ride to Farnham.” He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from his - notebook. “Give it to the superintendent at the police-station. Until he - comes, I must detain you all under my personal custody.” - </p> - <p> - The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic scene, - and all were equally puppets in his hands. Williamson and Carruthers found - themselves carrying the wounded Woodley into the house, and I gave my arm - to the frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, and at - Holmes’s request I examined him. I carried my report to where he sat in - the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him. - </p> - <p> - “He will live,” said I. - </p> - <p> - “What!” cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. “I’ll go upstairs - and finish him first. Do you tell me that that angel, is to be tied to - Roaring Jack Woodley for life?” - </p> - <p> - “You need not concern yourself about that,” said Holmes. “There are two - very good reasons why she should, under no circumstances, be his wife. In - the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson’s right to - solemnize a marriage.” - </p> - <p> - “I have been ordained,” cried the old rascal. - </p> - <p> - “And also unfrocked.” - </p> - <p> - “Once a clergyman, always a clergyman.” - </p> - <p> - “I think not. How about the license?” - </p> - <p> - “We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you got it by trick. But, in any case a forced marriage is no - marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover before you - have finished. You’ll have time to think the point out during the next ten - years or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would have - done better to keep your pistol in your pocket.” - </p> - <p> - “I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes, but when I thought of all the precaution - I had taken to shield this girl—for I loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it - is the only time that ever I knew what love was—it fairly drove me - mad to think that she was in the power of the greatest brute and bully in - South Africa—a man whose name is a holy terror from Kimberley to - Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you’ll hardly believe it, but ever since - that girl has been in my employment I never once let her go past this - house, where I knew the rascals were lurking, without following her on my - bicycle, just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my distance from - her, and I wore a beard, so that she should not recognize me, for she is a - good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn’t have stayed in my employment - long if she had thought that I was following her about the country roads.” - </p> - <p> - “Why didn’t you tell her of her danger?” - </p> - <p> - “Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn’t bear to face - that. Even if she couldn’t love me, it was a great deal to me just to see - her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her voice.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said I, “you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should call it - selfishness.” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn’t let her go. Besides, - with this crowd about, it was well that she should have someone near to - look after her. Then, when the cable came, I knew they were bound to make - a move.” - </p> - <p> - “What cable?” - </p> - <p> - Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket. - </p> - <p> - “That’s it,” said he. - </p> - <p> - It was short and concise: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - The old man is dead. - </p> - <p> - “Hum!” said Holmes. “I think I see how things worked, and I can understand - how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. But while you - wait, you might tell me what you can.” - </p> - <p> - The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad language. - </p> - <p> - “By heaven!” said he, “if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I’ll serve you - as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to your heart’s - content, for that’s your own affair, but if you round on your pals to this - plain-clothes copper, it will be the worst day’s work that ever you did.” - </p> - <p> - “Your reverence need not be excited,” said Holmes, lighting a cigarette. - “The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a few details for - my private curiosity. However, if there’s any difficulty in your telling - me, I’ll do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a chance - of holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of you came from - South Africa on this game—you Williamson, you Carruthers, and - Woodley.” - </p> - <p> - “Lie number one,” said the old man; “I never saw either of them until two - months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you can put - that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!” - </p> - <p> - “What he says is true,” said Carruthers. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own homemade - article. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa. You had reason to - believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece would inherit - his fortune. How’s that—eh?” - </p> - <p> - Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore. - </p> - <p> - “She was next of kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old fellow - would make no will.” - </p> - <p> - “Couldn’t read or write,” said Carruthers. - </p> - <p> - “So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The idea was - that one of you was to marry her, and the other have a share of the - plunder. For some reason, Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why was - that?” - </p> - <p> - “We played cards for her on the voyage. He won.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley was to - do the courting. She recognized the drunken brute that he was, and would - have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement was rather upset - by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with the lady. You could - no longer bear the idea of this ruffian owning her?” - </p> - <p> - “No, by George, I couldn’t!” - </p> - <p> - “There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage, and began to make - his own plans independently of you.” - </p> - <p> - “It strikes me, Williamson, there isn’t very much that we can tell this - gentleman,” cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. “Yes, we quarreled, and - he knocked me down. I am level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lost sight - of him. That was when he picked up with this outcast padre here. I found - that they had set up housekeeping together at this place on the line that - she had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her after that, for I - knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them from time to time, for - I was anxious to know what they were after. Two days ago Woodley came up - to my house with this cable, which showed that Ralph Smith was dead. He - asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I would not. He asked me - if I would marry the girl myself and give him a share. I said I would - willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He said, ‘Let us get her - married first and after a week or two she may see things a bit different.’ - I said I would have nothing to do with violence. So he went off cursing, - like the foul-mouthed blackguard that he was, and swearing that he would - have her yet. She was leaving me this week-end, and I had got a trap to - take her to the station, but I was so uneasy in my mind that I followed - her on my bicycle. She had got a start, however, and before I could catch - her, the mischief was done. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw - you two gentlemen driving back in her dog-cart.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. “I have - been very obtuse, Watson,” said he. “When in your report you said that you - had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie in the shrubbery, - that alone should have told me all. However, we may congratulate ourselves - upon a curious and, in some respects, a unique case. I perceive three of - the county constabulary in the drive, and I am glad to see that the little - ostler is able to keep pace with them, so it is likely that neither he nor - the interesting bridegroom will be permanently damaged by their morning’s - adventures. I think, Watson, that in your medical capacity, you might wait - upon Miss Smith and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered, we - shall be happy to escort her to her mother’s home. If she is not quite - convalescent you will find that a hint that we were about to telegraph to - a young electrician in the Midlands would probably complete the cure. As - to you, Mr. Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to make - amends for your share in an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my - evidence can be of help in your trial, it shall be at your disposal.” - </p> - <p> - In the whirl of our incessant activity, it has often been difficult for - me, as the reader has probably observed, to round off my narratives, and - to give those final details which the curious might expect. Each case has - been the prelude to another, and the crisis once over, the actors have - passed for ever out of our busy lives. I find, however, a short note at - the end of my manuscript dealing with this case, in which I have put it - upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a large fortune, and - that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the senior partner of Morton - & Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley - were both tried for abduction and assault, the former getting seven years - the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers, I have no record, but I am sure - that his assault was not viewed very gravely by the court, since Woodley - had the reputation of being a most dangerous ruffian, and I think that a - few months were sufficient to satisfy the demands of justice. - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap05"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRIORY SCHOOL</h2> - - <p> - We have had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small stage at - Baker Street, but I cannot recollect anything more sudden and startling - than the first appearance of Thorneycroft Huxtable, M.A., Ph.D., etc. His - card, which seemed too small to carry the weight of his academic - distinctions, preceded him by a few seconds, and then he entered himself—so - large, so pompous, and so dignified that he was the very embodiment of - self-possession and solidity. And yet his first action, when the door had - closed behind him, was to stagger against the table, whence he slipped - down upon the floor, and there was that majestic figure prostrate and - insensible upon our bearskin hearth-rug. - </p> - <p> - We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in silent - amazement at this ponderous piece of wreckage, which told of some sudden - and fatal storm far out on the ocean of life. Then Holmes hurried with a - cushion for his head, and I with brandy for his lips. The heavy, white - face was seamed with lines of trouble, the hanging pouches under the - closed eyes were leaden in colour, the loose mouth drooped dolorously at - the corners, the rolling chins were unshaven. Collar and shirt bore the - grime of a long journey, and the hair bristled unkempt from the - well-shaped head. It was a sorely stricken man who lay before us. - </p> - <p> - “What is it, Watson?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Absolute exhaustion—possibly mere hunger and fatigue,” said I, with - my finger on the thready pulse, where the stream of life trickled thin and - small. - </p> - <p> - “Return ticket from Mackleton, in the north of England,” said Holmes, - drawing it from the watch-pocket. “It is not twelve o’clock yet. He has - certainly been an early starter.” - </p> - <p> - The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of vacant grey - eyes looked up at us. An instant later the man had scrambled on to his - feet, his face crimson with shame. - </p> - <p> - “Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes, I have been a little overwrought. - Thank you, if I might have a glass of milk and a biscuit, I have no doubt - that I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in order to insure - that you would return with me. I feared that no telegram would convince - you of the absolute urgency of the case.” - </p> - <p> - “When you are quite restored——” - </p> - <p> - “I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak. I wish - you, Mr. Holmes, to come to Mackleton with me by the next train.” - </p> - <p> - My friend shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy at - present. I am retained in this case of the Ferrers Documents, and the - Abergavenny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very important issue - could call me from London at present.” - </p> - <p> - “Important!” Our visitor threw up his hands. “Have you heard nothing of - the abduction of the only son of the Duke of Holdernesse?” - </p> - <p> - “What! the late Cabinet Minister?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there was some - rumour in the <i>Globe</i> last night. I thought it might have reached your ears.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out Volume “H” in his - encyclopædia of reference. - </p> - <p> - “‘Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K.G., P.C.’—half the alphabet! ‘Baron - Beverley, Earl of Carston’—dear me, what a list! ‘Lord Lieutenant of - Hallamshire since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir Charles Appledore, - 1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about two hundred and fifty - thousand acres. Minerals in Lancashire and Wales. Address: Carlton House - Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire; Carston Castle, Bangor, Wales. - Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief Secretary of State for——’ - Well, well, this man is certainly one of the greatest subjects of the - Crown!” - </p> - <p> - “The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes, that you - take a very high line in professional matters, and that you are prepared - to work for the work’s sake. I may tell you, however, that his Grace has - already intimated that a check for five thousand pounds will be handed - over to the person who can tell him where his son is, and another thousand - to him who can name the man or men who have taken him.” - </p> - <p> - “It is a princely offer,” said Holmes. “Watson, I think that we shall - accompany Dr. Huxtable back to the north of England. And now, Dr. - Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk, you will kindly tell me what - has happened, when it happened, how it happened, and, finally, what Dr. - Thorneycroft Huxtable, of the Priory School, near Mackleton, has to do - with the matter, and why he comes three days after an event—the - state of your chin gives the date—to ask for my humble services.” - </p> - <p> - Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had come back to - his eyes and the colour to his cheeks, as he set himself with great vigour - and lucidity to explain the situation. - </p> - <p> - “I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory school, of - which I am the founder and principal. <i>Huxtable’s Sidelights on Horace</i> may - possibly recall my name to your memories. The Priory is, without - exception, the best and most select preparatory school in England. Lord - Leverstoke, the Earl of Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames—they all - have intrusted their sons to me. But I felt that my school had reached its - zenith when, weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder, his - secretary, with intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years old, his - only son and heir, was about to be committed to my charge. Little did I - think that this would be the prelude to the most crushing misfortune of my - life. - </p> - <p> - “On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the summer term. - He was a charming youth, and he soon fell into our ways. I may tell you—I - trust that I am not indiscreet, but half-confidences are absurd in such a - case—that he was not entirely happy at home. It is an open secret - that the Duke’s married life had not been a peaceful one, and the matter - had ended in a separation by mutual consent, the Duchess taking up her - residence in the south of France. This had occurred very shortly before, - and the boy’s sympathies are known to have been strongly with his mother. - He moped after her departure from Holdernesse Hall, and it was for this - reason that the Duke desired to send him to my establishment. In a - fortnight the boy was quite at home with us and was apparently absolutely - happy. - </p> - <p> - “He was last seen on the night of May 13th—that is, the night of - last Monday. His room was on the second floor and was approached through - another larger room, in which two boys were sleeping. These boys saw and - heard nothing, so that it is certain that young Saltire did not pass out - that way. His window was open, and there is a stout ivy plant leading to - the ground. We could trace no footmarks below, but it is sure that this is - the only possible exit. - </p> - <p> - “His absence was discovered at seven o’clock on Tuesday morning. His bed - had been slept in. He had dressed himself fully, before going off, in his - usual school suit of black Eton jacket and dark grey trousers. There were - no signs that anyone had entered the room, and it is quite certain that - anything in the nature of cries or a struggle would have been heard, since - Caunter, the elder boy in the inner room, is a very light sleeper. - </p> - <p> - “When Lord Saltire’s disappearance was discovered, I at once called a roll - of the whole establishment—boys, masters, and servants. It was then - that we ascertained that Lord Saltire had not been alone in his flight. - Heidegger, the German master, was missing. His room was on the second - floor, at the farther end of the building, facing the same way as Lord - Saltire’s. His bed had also been slept in, but he had apparently gone away - partly dressed, since his shirt and socks were lying on the floor. He had - undoubtedly let himself down by the ivy, for we could see the marks of his - feet where he had landed on the lawn. His bicycle was kept in a small shed - beside this lawn, and it also was gone. - </p> - <p> - “He had been with me for two years, and came with the best references, but - he was a silent, morose man, not very popular either with masters or boys. - No trace could be found of the fugitives, and now, on Thursday morning, we - are as ignorant as we were on Tuesday. Inquiry was, of course, made at - once at Holdernesse Hall. It is only a few miles away, and we imagined - that, in some sudden attack of homesickness, he had gone back to his - father, but nothing had been heard of him. The Duke is greatly agitated, - and, as to me, you have seen yourselves the state of nervous prostration - to which the suspense and the responsibility have reduced me. Mr. Holmes, - if ever you put forward your full powers, I implore you to do so now, for - never in your life could you have a case which is more worthy of them.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes had listened with the utmost intentness to the statement - of the unhappy schoolmaster. His drawn brows and the deep furrow between - them showed that he needed no exhortation to concentrate all his attention - upon a problem which, apart from the tremendous interests involved must - appeal so directly to his love of the complex and the unusual. He now drew - out his notebook and jotted down one or two memoranda. - </p> - <p> - “You have been very remiss in not coming to me sooner,” said he, severely. - “You start me on my investigation with a very serious handicap. It is - inconceivable, for example, that this ivy and this lawn would have yielded - nothing to an expert observer.” - </p> - <p> - “I am not to blame, Mr. Holmes. His Grace was extremely desirous to avoid - all public scandal. He was afraid of his family unhappiness being dragged - before the world. He has a deep horror of anything of the kind.” - </p> - <p> - “But there has been some official investigation?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing. An apparent clue was at - once obtained, since a boy and a young man were reported to have been seen - leaving a neighbouring station by an early train. Only last night we had - news that the couple had been hunted down in Liverpool, and they prove to - have no connection whatever with the matter in hand. Then it was that in - my despair and disappointment, after a sleepless night, I came straight to - you by the early train.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose the local investigation was relaxed while this false clue was - being followed up?” - </p> - <p> - “It was entirely dropped.” - </p> - <p> - “So that three days have been wasted. The affair has been most deplorably - handled.” - </p> - <p> - “I feel it and admit it.” - </p> - <p> - “And yet the problem should be capable of ultimate solution. I shall be - very happy to look into it. Have you been able to trace any connection - between the missing boy and this German master?” - </p> - <p> - “None at all.” - </p> - <p> - “Was he in the master’s class?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he never exchanged a word with him, so far as I know.” - </p> - <p> - “That is certainly very singular. Had the boy a bicycle?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Was any other bicycle missing?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Is that certain?” - </p> - <p> - “Quite.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now, you do not mean to seriously suggest that this German rode off - upon a bicycle in the dead of the night, bearing the boy in his arms?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “Then what is the theory in your mind?” - </p> - <p> - “The bicycle may have been a blind. It may have been hidden somewhere, and - the pair gone off on foot.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite so, but it seems rather an absurd blind, does it not? Were there - other bicycles in this shed?” - </p> - <p> - “Several.” - </p> - <p> - “Would he not have hidden <i>a couple</i>, had he desired to give the idea that - they had gone off upon them?” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose he would.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course he would. The blind theory won’t do. But the incident is an - admirable starting-point for an investigation. After all, a bicycle is not - an easy thing to conceal or to destroy. One other question. Did anyone - call to see the boy on the day before he disappeared?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Did he get any letters?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, one letter.” - </p> - <p> - “From whom?” - </p> - <p> - “From his father.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you open the boys’ letters?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know it was from the father?” - </p> - <p> - “The coat of arms was on the envelope, and it was addressed in the Duke’s - peculiar stiff hand. Besides, the Duke remembers having written.” - </p> - <p> - “When had he a letter before that?” - </p> - <p> - “Not for several days.” - </p> - <p> - “Had he ever one from France?” - </p> - <p> - “No, never. - </p> - <p> - “You see the point of my questions, of course. Either the boy was carried - off by force or he went of his own free will. In the latter case, you - would expect that some prompting from outside would be needed to make so - young a lad do such a thing. If he has had no visitors, that prompting - must have come in letters; hence I try to find out who were his - correspondents.” - </p> - <p> - “I fear I cannot help you much. His only correspondent, so far as I know, - was his own father.” - </p> - <p> - “Who wrote to him on the very day of his disappearance. Were the relations - between father and son very friendly?” - </p> - <p> - “His Grace is never very friendly with anyone. He is completely immersed - in large public questions, and is rather inaccessible to all ordinary - emotions. But he was always kind to the boy in his own way.” - </p> - <p> - “But the sympathies of the latter were with the mother?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Did he say so?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “The Duke, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Good Heavens, no!” - </p> - <p> - “Then how could you know?” - </p> - <p> - “I have had some confidential talks with Mr. James Wilder, his Grace’s - secretary. It was he who gave me the information about Lord Saltire’s - feelings.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. By the way, that last letter of the Duke’s—was - it found in the boy’s room after he was gone?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he had taken it with him. I think, Mr. Holmes, it is time that we - were leaving for Euston.” - </p> - <p> - “I will order a four-wheeler. In a quarter of an hour, we shall be at your - service. If you are telegraphing home, Mr. Huxtable, it would be well to - allow the people in your neighbourhood to imagine that the inquiry is - still going on in Liverpool, or wherever else that red herring led your - pack. In the meantime I will do a little quiet work at your own doors, and - perhaps the scent is not so cold but that two old hounds like Watson and - myself may get a sniff of it.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - That evening found us in the cold, bracing atmosphere of the Peak country, - in which Dr. Huxtable’s famous school is situated. It was already dark - when we reached it. A card was lying on the hall table, and the butler - whispered something to his master, who turned to us with agitation in - every heavy feature. - </p> - <p> - “The Duke is here,” said he. “The Duke and Mr. Wilder are in the study. - Come, gentlemen, and I will introduce you.” - </p> - <p> - I was, of course, familiar with the pictures of the famous statesman, but - the man himself was very different from his representation. He was a tall - and stately person, scrupulously dressed, with a drawn, thin face, and a - nose which was grotesquely curved and long. His complexion was of a dead - pallor, which was more startling by contrast with a long, dwindling beard - of vivid red, which flowed down over his white waistcoat with his - watch-chain gleaming through its fringe. Such was the stately presence who - looked stonily at us from the centre of Dr. Huxtable’s hearthrug. Beside - him stood a very young man, whom I understood to be Wilder, the private - secretary. He was small, nervous, alert with intelligent light-blue eyes - and mobile features. It was he who at once, in an incisive and positive - tone, opened the conversation. - </p> - <p> - “I called this morning, Dr. Huxtable, too late to prevent you from - starting for London. I learned that your object was to invite Mr. Sherlock - Holmes to undertake the conduct of this case. His Grace is surprised, Dr. - Huxtable, that you should have taken such a step without consulting him.” - </p> - <p> - “When I learned that the police had failed——” - </p> - <p> - “His Grace is by no means convinced that the police have failed.” - </p> - <p> - “But surely, Mr. Wilder——” - </p> - <p> - “You are well aware, Dr. Huxtable, that his Grace is particularly anxious - to avoid all public scandal. He prefers to take as few people as possible - into his confidence.” - </p> - <p> - “The matter can be easily remedied,” said the brow-beaten doctor; “Mr. - Sherlock Holmes can return to London by the morning train.” - </p> - <p> - “Hardly that, Doctor, hardly that,” said Holmes, in his blandest voice. - “This northern air is invigorating and pleasant, so I propose to spend a - few days upon your moors, and to occupy my mind as best I may. Whether I - have the shelter of your roof or of the village inn is, of course, for you - to decide.” - </p> - <p> - I could see that the unfortunate doctor was in the last stage of - indecision, from which he was rescued by the deep, sonorous voice of the - red-bearded Duke, which boomed out like a dinner-gong. - </p> - <p> - “I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Huxtable, that you would have done wisely to - consult me. But since Mr. Holmes has already been taken into your - confidence, it would indeed be absurd that we should not avail ourselves - of his services. Far from going to the inn, Mr. Holmes, I should be - pleased if you would come and stay with me at Holdernesse Hall.” - </p> - <p> - “I thank your Grace. For the purposes of my investigation, I think that it - would be wiser for me to remain at the scene of the mystery.” - </p> - <p> - “Just as you like, Mr. Holmes. Any information which Mr. Wilder or I can - give you is, of course, at your disposal.” - </p> - <p> - “It will probably be necessary for me to see you at the Hall,” said - Holmes. “I would only ask you now, sir, whether you have formed any - explanation in your own mind as to the mysterious disappearance of your - son?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, I have not.” - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me if I allude to that which is painful to you, but I have no - alternative. Do you think that the Duchess had anything to do with the - matter?” - </p> - <p> - The great minister showed perceptible hesitation. - </p> - <p> - “I do not think so,” he said, at last. - </p> - <p> - “The other most obvious explanation is that the child has been kidnapped - for the purpose of levying ransom. You have not had any demand of the - sort?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “One more question, your Grace. I understand that you wrote to your son - upon the day when this incident occurred.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I wrote upon the day before.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. But he received it on that day?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Was there anything in your letter which might have unbalanced him or - induced him to take such a step?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you post that letter yourself?” - </p> - <p> - The nobleman’s reply was interrupted by his secretary, who broke in with - some heat. - </p> - <p> - “His Grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself,” said he. “This - letter was laid with others upon the study table, and I myself put them in - the post-bag.” - </p> - <p> - “You are sure this one was among them?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I observed it.” - </p> - <p> - “How many letters did your Grace write that day?” - </p> - <p> - “Twenty or thirty. I have a large correspondence. But surely this is - somewhat irrelevant?” - </p> - <p> - “Not entirely,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “For my own part,” the Duke continued, “I have advised the police to turn - their attention to the south of France. I have already said that I do not - believe that the Duchess would encourage so monstrous an action, but the - lad had the most wrong-headed opinions, and it is possible that he may - have fled to her, aided and abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable, - that we will now return to the Hall.” - </p> - <p> - I could see that there were other questions which Holmes would have wished - to put, but the nobleman’s abrupt manner showed that the interview was at - an end. It was evident that to his intensely aristocratic nature this - discussion of his intimate family affairs with a stranger was most - abhorrent, and that he feared lest every fresh question would throw a - fiercer light into the discreetly shadowed corners of his ducal history. - </p> - <p> - When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung himself at - once with characteristic eagerness into the investigation. - </p> - <p> - The boy’s chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing save the - absolute conviction that it was only through the window that he could have - escaped. The German master’s room and effects gave no further clue. In his - case a trailer of ivy had given way under his weight, and we saw by the - light of a lantern the mark on the lawn where his heels had come down. - That one dint in the short, green grass was the only material witness left - of this inexplicable nocturnal flight. - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after eleven. He - had obtained a large ordnance map of the neighbourhood, and this he - brought into my room, where he laid it out on the bed, and, having - balanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke over it, and - occasionally to point out objects of interest with the reeking amber of - his pipe. - </p> - <p> - “This case grows upon me, Watson,” said he. “There are decidedly some - points of interest in connection with it. In this early stage, I want you - to realize those geographical features which may have a good deal to do - with our investigation. - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img09.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Holmes'-map"> - </div> - - <p class="center"> - HOLMES’ MAP OF THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF THE SCHOOL. - </p> - <p> - “Look at this map. This dark square is the Priory School. I’ll put a pin - in it. Now, this line is the main road. You see that it runs east and west - past the school, and you see also that there is no side road for a mile - either way. If these two folk passed away by road, it was <i>this</i> road.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “By a singular and happy chance, we are able to some extent to check what - passed along this road during the night in question. At this point, where - my pipe is now resting, a county constable was on duty from twelve to six. - It is, as you perceive, the first cross-road on the east side. This man - declares that he was not absent from his post for an instant, and he is - positive that neither boy nor man could have gone that way unseen. I have - spoken with this policeman to-night and he appears to me to be a perfectly - reliable person. That blocks this end. We have now to deal with the other. - There is an inn here, the Red Bull, the landlady of which was ill. She had - sent to Mackleton for a doctor, but he did not arrive until morning, being - absent at another case. The people at the inn were alert all night, - awaiting his coming, and one or other of them seems to have continually - had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If their - evidence is good, then we are fortunate enough to be able to block the - west, and also to be able to say that the fugitives did <i>not</i> use the road - at all.” - </p> - <p> - “But the bicycle?” I objected. - </p> - <p> - “Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently. To continue our - reasoning: if these people did not go by the road, they must have - traversed the country to the north of the house or to the south of the - house. That is certain. Let us weigh the one against the other. On the - south of the house is, as you perceive, a large district of arable land, - cut up into small fields, with stone walls between them. There, I admit - that a bicycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to the - country on the north. Here there lies a grove of trees, marked as the - ‘Ragged Shaw,’ and on the farther side stretches a great rolling moor, - Lower Gill Moor, extending for ten miles and sloping gradually upward. - Here, at one side of this wilderness, is Holdernesse Hall, ten miles by - road, but only six across the moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A - few moor farmers have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. - Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only inhabitants until you - come to the Chesterfield high road. There is a church there, you see, a - few cottages, and an inn. Beyond that the hills become precipitous. Surely - it is here to the north that our quest must lie.” - </p> - <p> - “But the bicycle?” I persisted. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well!” said Holmes, impatiently. “A good cyclist does not need a - high road. The moor is intersected with paths, and the moon was at the - full. Halloa! what is this?” - </p> - <p> - There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant afterwards Dr. - Huxtable was in the room. In his hand he held a blue cricket-cap with a - white chevron on the peak. - </p> - <p> - “At last we have a clue!” he cried. “Thank heaven! at last we are on the - dear boy’s track! It is his cap.” - </p> - <p> - “Where was it found?” - </p> - <p> - “In the van of the gipsies who camped on the moor. They left on Tuesday. - To-day the police traced them down and examined their caravan. This was - found.” - </p> - <p> - “How do they account for it?” - </p> - <p> - “They shuffled and lied—said that they found it on the moor on - Tuesday morning. They know where he is, the rascals! Thank goodness, they - are all safe under lock and key. Either the fear of the law or the Duke’s - purse will certainly get out of them all that they know.” - </p> - <p> - “So far, so good,” said Holmes, when the doctor had at last left the room. - “It at least bears out the theory that it is on the side of the Lower Gill - Moor that we must hope for results. The police have really done nothing - locally, save the arrest of these gipsies. Look here, Watson! There is a - watercourse across the moor. You see it marked here in the map. In some - parts it widens into a morass. This is particularly so in the region - between Holdernesse Hall and the school. It is vain to look elsewhere for - tracks in this dry weather, but at <i>that</i> point there is certainly a chance - of some record being left. I will call you early to-morrow morning, and - you and I will try if we can throw some little light upon the mystery.” - </p> - <p> - The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form of - Holmes by my bedside. He was fully dressed, and had apparently already - been out. - </p> - <p> - “I have done the lawn and the bicycle shed,” said he. “I have also had a - rumble through the Ragged Shaw. Now, Watson, there is cocoa ready in the - next room. I must beg you to hurry, for we have a great day before us.” - </p> - <p> - His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of the - master workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very different - Holmes, this active, alert man, from the introspective and pallid dreamer - of Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple figure, alive with - nervous energy, that it was indeed a strenuous day that awaited us. - </p> - <p> - And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high hopes we - struck across the peaty, russet moor, intersected with a thousand sheep - paths, until we came to the broad, light-green belt which marked the - morass between us and Holdernesse. Certainly, if the lad had gone - homeward, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it without - leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a - darkening face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant of - every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep-marks there were in - profusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had left their tracks. - Nothing more. - </p> - <p> - “Check number one,” said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rolling expanse - of the moor. “There is another morass down yonder, and a narrow neck - between. Halloa! halloa! halloa! what have we here?” - </p> - <p> - We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it, - clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle. - </p> - <p> - “Hurrah!” I cried. “We have it.” - </p> - <p> - But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled and expectant - rather than joyous. - </p> - <p> - “A bicycle, certainly, but not <i>the</i> bicycle,” said he. “I am familiar with - forty-two different impressions left by tires. This, as you perceive, is a - Dunlop, with a patch upon the outer cover. Heidegger’s tires were - Palmer’s, leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, the mathematical master, - was sure upon the point. Therefore, it is not Heidegger’s track.” - </p> - <p> - “The boy’s, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession. But - this we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, was made - by a rider who was going from the direction of the school.” - </p> - <p> - “Or towards it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, of course, - the hind wheel, upon which the weight rests. You perceive several places - where it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of the - front one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school. It may or may - not be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow it backwards before - we go any farther.” - </p> - <p> - We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks as we - emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the path backwards, - we picked out another spot, where a spring trickled across it. Here, once - again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearly obliterated by the hoofs - of cows. After that there was no sign, but the path ran right on into - Ragged Shaw, the wood which backed on to the school. From this wood the - cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down on a boulder and rested his chin - in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettes before he moved. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well,” said he, at last. “It is, of course, possible that a cunning - man might change the tires of his bicycle in order to leave unfamiliar - tracks. A criminal who was capable of such a thought is a man whom I - should be proud to do business with. We will leave this question undecided - and hark back to our morass again, for we have left a good deal - unexplored.” - </p> - <p> - We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portion of - the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Right across - the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a cry of delight as - he approached it. An impression like a fine bundle of telegraph wires ran - down the centre of it. It was the Palmer tires. - </p> - <p> - “Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!” cried Holmes, exultantly. “My - reasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “I congratulate you.” - </p> - <p> - “But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear of the path. Now - let us follow the trail. I fear that it will not lead very far.” - </p> - <p> - We found, however, as we advanced that this portion of the moor is - intersected with soft patches, and, though we frequently lost sight of the - track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more. - </p> - <p> - “Do you observe,” said Holmes, “that the rider is now undoubtedly forcing - the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression, where you - get both tires clear. The one is as deep as the other. That can only mean - that the rider is throwing his weight on to the handle-bar, as a man does - when he is sprinting. By Jove! he has had a fall.” - </p> - <p> - There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track. Then - there were a few footmarks, and the tire reappeared once more. - </p> - <p> - “A side-slip,” I suggested. - </p> - <p> - Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror I - perceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with crimson. On the - path, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood. - </p> - <p> - “Bad!” said Holmes. “Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an unnecessary - footstep! What do I read here? He fell wounded—he stood up—he - remounted—he proceeded. But there is no other track. Cattle on this - side path. He was surely not gored by a bull? Impossible! But I see no - traces of anyone else. We must push on, Watson. Surely, with stains as - well as the track to guide us, he cannot escape us now.” - </p> - <p> - Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tire began to curve - fantastically upon the wet and shining path. Suddenly, as I looked ahead, - the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorse-bushes. Out of - them we dragged a bicycle, Palmer-tired, one pedal bent, and the whole - front of it horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. On the other side - of the bushes a shoe was projecting. We ran round, and there lay the - unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full-bearded, with spectacles, one - glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of his death was a - frightful blow upon the head, which had crushed in part of his skull. That - he could have gone on after receiving such an injury said much for the - vitality and courage of the man. He wore shoes, but no socks, and his open - coat disclosed a nightshirt beneath it. It was undoubtedly the German - master. - </p> - <p> - Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with great - attention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could see by his - ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced us - much in our inquiry. - </p> - <p> - “It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson,” said he, at last. - “My own inclinations are to push this inquiry on, for we have already lost - so much time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On the other - hand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery, and to see that - this poor fellow’s body is looked after.” - </p> - <p> - “I could take a note back.” - </p> - <p> - “But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit! There is a fellow - cutting peat up yonder. Bring him over here, and he will guide the - police.” - </p> - <p> - I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened man - with a note to Dr. Huxtable. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Watson,” said he, “we have picked up two clues this morning. One is - the bicycle with the Palmer tire, and we see what that has led to. The - other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start to - investigate that, let us try to realize what we <i>do</i> know, so as to make the - most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental.” - </p> - <p> - “First of all, I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left of - his own free-will. He got down from his window and he went off, either - alone or with someone. That is sure.” - </p> - <p> - I assented. - </p> - <p> - “Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master. The boy was - fully dressed when he fled. Therefore, he foresaw what he would do. But - the German went without his socks. He certainly acted on very short - notice.” - </p> - <p> - “Undoubtedly.” - </p> - <p> - “Why did he go? Because, from his bedroom window, he saw the flight of the - boy, because he wished to overtake him and bring him back. He seized his - bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursuing him met his death.” - </p> - <p> - “So it would seem.” - </p> - <p> - “Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural action of a - man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would know that - he could overtake him. But the German does not do so. He turns to his - bicycle. I am told that he was an excellent cyclist. He would not do this, - if he did not see that the boy had some swift means of escape.” - </p> - <p> - “The other bicycle.” - </p> - <p> - “Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five miles from - the school—not by a bullet, mark you, which even a lad might - conceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The - lad, then, <i>had</i> a companion in his flight. And the flight was a swift one, - since it took five miles before an expert cyclist could overtake them. Yet - we survey the ground round the scene of the tragedy. What do we find? A - few cattle-tracks, nothing more. I took a wide sweep round, and there is - no path within fifty yards. Another cyclist could have had nothing to do - with the actual murder, nor were there any human foot-marks.” - </p> - <p> - “Holmes,” I cried, “this is impossible.” - </p> - <p> - “Admirable!” he said. “A most illuminating remark. It <i>is</i> impossible as I - state it, and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong. Yet - you saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy?” - </p> - <p> - “He could not have fractured his skull in a fall?” - </p> - <p> - “In a morass, Watson?” - </p> - <p> - “I am at my wits’ end.” - </p> - <p> - “Tut, tut, we have solved some worse problems. At least we have plenty of - material, if we can only use it. Come, then, and, having exhausted the - Palmer, let us see what the Dunlop with the patched cover has to offer - us.” - </p> - <p> - We picked up the track and followed it onward for some distance, but soon - the moor rose into a long, heather-tufted curve, and we left the - watercourse behind us. No further help from tracks could be hoped for. At - the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tire it might equally have - led to Holdernesse Hall, the stately towers of which rose some miles to - our left, or to a low, grey village which lay in front of us and marked - the position of the Chesterfield high road. - </p> - <p> - As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the sign of a - game-cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan, and clutched me by - the shoulder to save himself from falling. He had had one of those violent - strains of the ankle which leave a man helpless. With difficulty he limped - up to the door, where a squat, dark, elderly man was smoking a black clay - pipe. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, Mr. Reuben Hayes?” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Who are you, and how do you get my name so pat?” the countryman answered, - with a suspicious flash of a pair of cunning eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it’s printed on the board above your head. It’s easy to see a man - who is master of his own house. I suppose you haven’t such a thing as a - carriage in your stables?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I have not.” - </p> - <p> - “I can hardly put my foot to the ground.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t put it to the ground.” - </p> - <p> - “But I can’t walk.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then hop.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Reuben Hayes’s manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took it with - admirable good-humour. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, my man,” said he. “This is really rather an awkward fix for - me. I don’t mind how I get on.” - </p> - <p> - “Neither do I,” said the morose landlord. - </p> - <p> - “The matter is very important. I would offer you a sovereign for the use - of a bicycle.” - </p> - <p> - The landlord pricked up his ears. - </p> - <p> - “Where do you want to go?” - </p> - <p> - “To Holdernesse Hall.” - </p> - <p> - “Pals of the Dook, I suppose?” said the landlord, surveying our - mud-stained garments with ironical eyes. - </p> - <p> - Holmes laughed good-naturedly. - </p> - <p> - “He’ll be glad to see us, anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - “Why?” - </p> - <p> - “Because we bring him news of his lost son.” - </p> - <p> - The landlord gave a very visible start. - </p> - <p> - “What, you’re on his track?” - </p> - <p> - “He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him every hour.” - </p> - <p> - Again a swift change passed over the heavy, unshaven face. His manner was - suddenly genial. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve less reason to wish the Dook well than most men,” said he, “for I - was head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me. It was him that - sacked me without a character on the word of a lying corn-chandler. But - I’m glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I’ll - help you to take the news to the Hall.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” said Holmes. “We’ll have some food first. Then you can bring - round the bicycle.” - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t got a bicycle.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes held up a sovereign. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you, man, that I haven’t got one. I’ll let you have two horses as - far as the Hall.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well,” said Holmes, “we’ll talk about it when we’ve had something - to eat.” - </p> - <p> - When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen, it was astonishing - how rapidly that sprained ankle recovered. It was nearly nightfall, and we - had eaten nothing since early morning, so that we spent some time over our - meal. Holmes was lost in thought, and once or twice he walked over to the - window and stared earnestly out. It opened on to a squalid courtyard. In - the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad was at work. On the other - side were the stables. Holmes had sat down again after one of these - excursions, when he suddenly sprang out of his chair with a loud - exclamation. - </p> - <p> - “By heaven, Watson, I believe that I’ve got it!” he cried. “Yes, yes, it - must be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any cow-tracks to-day?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, several.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, everywhere. They were at the morass, and again on the path, and - again near where poor Heidegger met his death.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t remember seeing any.” - </p> - <p> - “Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never - a cow on the whole moor. Very strange, Watson, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is strange.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Watson, make an effort, throw your mind back. Can you see those - tracks upon the path?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I can.” - </p> - <p> - “Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like that, Watson,”—he - arranged a number of breadcrumbs in this fashion—: : : : :—“and - sometimes like this”—: . : . : . : .—“and occasionally like - this”—.・.・.・. “Can you remember that?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I cannot.” - </p> - <p> - “But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at our leisure - and verify it. What a blind beetle I have been, not to draw my - conclusion.” - </p> - <p> - “And what is your conclusion?” - </p> - <p> - “Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops. By - George! Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought out - such a blind as that. The coast seems to be clear, save for that lad in - the smithy. Let us slip out and see what we can see.” - </p> - <p> - There were two rough-haired, unkempt horses in the tumble-down stable. - Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud. - </p> - <p> - “Old shoes, but newly shod—old shoes, but new nails. This case - deserves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy.” - </p> - <p> - The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes’s eye - darting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood which was - scattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we heard a step behind us, - and there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrows drawn over his savage eyes, - his swarthy features convulsed with passion. He held a short, metal-headed - stick in his hand, and he advanced in so menacing a fashion that I was - right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket. - </p> - <p> - “You infernal spies!” the man cried. “What are you doing there?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes,” said Holmes, coolly, “one might think that you - were afraid of our finding something out.” - </p> - <p> - The man mastered himself with a violent effort, and his grim mouth - loosened into a false laugh, which was more menacing than his frown. - </p> - <p> - “You’re welcome to all you can find out in my smithy,” said he. “But look - here, mister, I don’t care for folk poking about my place without my - leave, so the sooner you pay your score and get out of this the better I - shall be pleased.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Mr. Hayes, no harm meant,” said Holmes. “We have been having a - look at your horses, but I think I’ll walk, after all. It’s not far, I - believe.” - </p> - <p> - “Not more than two miles to the Hall gates. That’s the road to the left.” - He watched us with sullen eyes until we had left his premises. - </p> - <p> - We did not go very far along the road, for Holmes stopped the instant that - the curve hid us from the landlord’s view. - </p> - <p> - “We were warm, as the children say, at that inn,” said he. “I seem to grow - colder every step that I take away from it. No, no, I can’t possibly leave - it.” - </p> - <p> - “I am convinced,” said I, “that this Reuben Hayes knows all about it. A - more self-evident villain I never saw.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh! he impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses, there is - the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place, this Fighting Cock. I think - we shall have another look at it in an unobtrusive way.” - </p> - <p> - A long, sloping hillside, dotted with grey limestone boulders, stretched - behind us. We had turned off the road, and were making our way up the - hill, when, looking in the direction of Holdernesse Hall, I saw a cyclist - coming swiftly along. - </p> - <p> - “Get down, Watson!” cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon my shoulder. We - had hardly sunk from view when the man flew past us on the road. Amid a - rolling cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated face—a - face with horror in every lineament, the mouth open, the eyes staring - wildly in front. It was like some strange caricature of the dapper James - Wilder whom we had seen the night before. - </p> - <p> - “The Duke’s secretary!” cried Holmes. “Come, Watson, let us see what he - does.” - </p> - <p> - We scrambled from rock to rock, until in a few moments we had made our way - to a point from which we could see the front door of the inn. Wilder’s - bicycle was leaning against the wall beside it. No one was moving about - the house, nor could we catch a glimpse of any faces at the windows. - Slowly the twilight crept down as the sun sank behind the high towers of - Holdernesse Hall. Then, in the gloom, we saw the two side-lamps of a trap - light up in the stable-yard of the inn, and shortly afterwards heard the - rattle of hoofs, as it wheeled out into the road and tore off at a furious - pace in the direction of Chesterfield. - </p> - <p> - “What do you make of that, Watson?” Holmes whispered. - </p> - <p> - “It looks like a flight.” - </p> - <p> - “A single man in a dog-cart, so far as I could see. Well, it certainly was - not Mr. James Wilder, for there he is at the door.” - </p> - <p> - A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the middle of it - was the black figure of the secretary, his head advanced, peering out into - the night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then at last - there were steps in the road, a second figure was visible for an instant - against the light, the door shut, and all was black once more. Five - minutes later a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor. - </p> - <p> - “It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by the Fighting - Cock,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “The bar is on the other side.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests. Now, what in - the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night, and - who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson, we must - really take a risk and try to investigate this a little more closely.” - </p> - <p> - Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of the - inn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a match and - held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon - a patched Dunlop tire. Up above us was the lighted window. - </p> - <p> - “I must have a peep through that, Watson. If you bend your back and - support yourself upon the wall, I think that I can manage.” - </p> - <p> - An instant later, his feet were on my shoulders, but he was hardly up - before he was down again. - </p> - <p> - “Come, my friend,” said he, “our day’s work has been quite long enough. I - think that we have gathered all that we can. It’s a long walk to the - school, and the sooner we get started the better.” - </p> - <p> - He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, nor - would he enter the school when he reached it, but went on to Mackleton - Station, whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard him - consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master’s death, - and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had been - when he started in the morning. “All goes well, my friend,” said he. “I - promise that before to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solution - of the mystery.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - At eleven o’clock next morning my friend and I were walking up the famous - yew avenue of Holdernesse Hall. We were ushered through the magnificent - Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace’s study. There we found Mr. James - Wilder, demure and courtly, but with some trace of that wild terror of the - night before still lurking in his furtive eyes and in his twitching - features. - </p> - <p> - “You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry, but the fact is that the Duke - is far from well. He has been very much upset by the tragic news. We - received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon, which told us - of your discovery.” - </p> - <p> - “I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder.” - </p> - <p> - “But he is in his room.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I must go to his room.” - </p> - <p> - “I believe he is in his bed.” - </p> - <p> - “I will see him there.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes’s cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary that it was - useless to argue with him. - </p> - <p> - “Very good, Mr. Holmes, I will tell him that you are here.” - </p> - <p> - After an hour’s delay, the great nobleman appeared. His face was more - cadaverous than ever, his shoulders had rounded, and he seemed to me to be - an altogether older man than he had been the morning before. He greeted us - with a stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk, his red beard - streaming down on the table. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes?” said he. - </p> - <p> - But my friend’s eyes were fixed upon the secretary, who stood by his - master’s chair. - </p> - <p> - “I think, your Grace, that I could speak more freely in Mr. Wilder’s - absence.” - </p> - <p> - The man turned a shade paler and cast a malignant glance at Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “If your Grace wishes——” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes, you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, what have you to say?” - </p> - <p> - My friend waited until the door had closed behind the retreating - secretary. - </p> - <p> - “The fact is, your Grace,” said he, “that my colleague, Dr. Watson, and - myself had an assurance from Dr. Huxtable that a reward had been offered - in this case. I should like to have this confirmed from your own lips.” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to five thousand pounds to - anyone who will tell you where your son is?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “And another thousand to the man who will name the person or persons who - keep him in custody?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those who may - have taken him away, but also those who conspire to keep him in his - present position?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes,” cried the Duke, impatiently. “If you do your work well, Mr. - Sherlock Holmes, you will have no reason to complain of niggardly - treatment.” - </p> - <p> - My friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of avidity - which was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal tastes. - </p> - <p> - “I fancy that I see your Grace’s check-book upon the table,” said he. “I - should be glad if you would make me out a check for six thousand pounds. - It would be as well, perhaps, for you to cross it. The Capital and - Counties Bank, Oxford Street branch are my agents.” - </p> - <p> - His Grace sat very stern and upright in his chair and looked stonily at my - friend. - </p> - <p> - “Is this a joke, Mr. Holmes? It is hardly a subject for pleasantry.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all, your Grace. I was never more earnest in my life.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean, then?” - </p> - <p> - “I mean that I have earned the reward. I know where your son is, and I - know some, at least, of those who are holding him.” - </p> - <p> - The Duke’s beard had turned more aggressively red than ever against his - ghastly white face. - </p> - <p> - “Where is he?” he gasped. - </p> - <p> - “He is, or was last night, at the Fighting Cock Inn, about two miles from - your park gate.” - </p> - <p> - The Duke fell back in his chair. - </p> - <p> - “And whom do you accuse?” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes’s answer was an astounding one. He stepped swiftly forward - and touched the Duke upon the shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “I accuse <i>you</i>,” said he. “And now, your Grace, I’ll trouble you for that - check.” - </p> - <p> - Never shall I forget the Duke’s appearance as he sprang up and clawed with - his hands, like one who is sinking into an abyss. Then, with an - extraordinary effort of aristocratic self-command, he sat down and sank - his face in his hands. It was some minutes before he spoke. - </p> - <p> - “How much do you know?” he asked at last, without raising his head. - </p> - <p> - “I saw you together last night.” - </p> - <p> - “Does anyone else beside your friend know?” - </p> - <p> - “I have spoken to no one.” - </p> - <p> - The Duke took a pen in his quivering fingers and opened his check-book. - </p> - <p> - “I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I am about to write your - check, however unwelcome the information which you have gained may be to - me. When the offer was first made, I little thought the turn which events - might take. But you and your friend are men of discretion, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “I hardly understand your Grace.” - </p> - <p> - “I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you two know of this incident, - there is no reason why it should go any farther. I think twelve thousand - pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not?” - </p> - <p> - But Holmes smiled and shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “I fear, your Grace, that matters can hardly be arranged so easily. There - is the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for.” - </p> - <p> - “But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him responsible for that. - It was the work of this brutal ruffian whom he had the misfortune to - employ.” - </p> - <p> - “I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime, - he is morally guilty of any other crime which may spring from it.” - </p> - <p> - “Morally, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. But surely not in the eyes - of the law. A man cannot be condemned for a murder at which he was not - present, and which he loathes and abhors as much as you do. The instant - that he heard of it he made a complete confession to me, so filled was he - with horror and remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirely with the - murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him—you must save him! I - tell you that you must save him!” The Duke had dropped the last attempt at - self-command, and was pacing the room with a convulsed face and with his - clenched hands raving in the air. At last he mastered himself and sat down - once more at his desk. “I appreciate your conduct in coming here before - you spoke to anyone else,” said he. “At least, we may take counsel how far - we can minimize this hideous scandal.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly,” said Holmes. “I think, your Grace, that this can only be done - by absolute frankness between us. I am disposed to help your Grace to the - best of my ability, but, in order to do so, I must understand to the last - detail how the matter stands. I realize that your words applied to Mr. - James Wilder, and that he is not the murderer.” - </p> - <p> - “No, the murderer has escaped.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes smiled demurely. - </p> - <p> - “Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which I possess, - or you would not imagine that it is so easy to escape me. Mr. Reuben Hayes - was arrested at Chesterfield, on my information, at eleven o’clock last - night. I had a telegram from the head of the local police before I left - the school this morning.” - </p> - <p> - The Duke leaned back in his chair and stared with amazement at my friend. - </p> - <p> - “You seem to have powers that are hardly human,” said he. “So Reuben Hayes - is taken? I am right glad to hear it, if it will not react upon the fate - of James.” - </p> - <p> - “Your secretary?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, my son.” - </p> - <p> - It was Holmes’s turn to look astonished. - </p> - <p> - “I confess that this is entirely new to me, your Grace. I must beg you to - be more explicit.” - </p> - <p> - “I will conceal nothing from you. I agree with you that complete - frankness, however painful it may be to me, is the best policy in this - desperate situation to which James’s folly and jealousy have reduced us. - When I was a very young man, Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a love as comes - only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refused it - on the grounds that such a match might mar my career. Had she lived, I - would certainly never have married anyone else. She died, and left this - one child, whom for her sake I have cherished and cared for. I could not - acknowledge the paternity to the world, but I gave him the best of - educations, and since he came to manhood I have kept him near my person. - He surmised my secret, and has presumed ever since upon the claim which he - has upon me, and upon his power of provoking a scandal which would be - abhorrent to me. His presence had something to do with the unhappy issue - of my marriage. Above all, he hated my young legitimate heir from the - first with a persistent hatred. You may well ask me why, under these - circumstances, I still kept James under my roof. I answer that it was - because I could see his mother’s face in his, and that for her dear sake - there was no end to my long-suffering. All her pretty ways too—there - was not one of them which he could not suggest and bring back to my - memory. I <i>could</i> not send him away. But I feared so much lest he should do - Arthur—that is, Lord Saltire—a mischief, that I dispatched him - for safety to Dr. Huxtable’s school. - </p> - <p> - “James came into contact with this fellow Hayes, because the man was a - tenant of mine, and James acted as agent. The fellow was a rascal from the - beginning, but, in some extraordinary way, James became intimate with him. - He had always a taste for low company. When James determined to kidnap - Lord Saltire, it was of this man’s service that he availed himself. You - remember that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day. Well, James opened the - letter and inserted a note asking Arthur to meet him in a little wood - called the Ragged Shaw, which is near to the school. He used the Duchess’s - name, and in that way got the boy to come. That evening James bicycled - over—I am telling you what he has himself confessed to me—and - he told Arthur, whom he met in the wood, that his mother longed to see - him, that she was awaiting him on the moor, and that if he would come back - into the wood at midnight he would find a man with a horse, who would take - him to her. Poor Arthur fell into the trap. He came to the appointment, - and found this fellow Hayes with a led pony. Arthur mounted, and they set - off together. It appears—though this James only heard yesterday—that - they were pursued, that Hayes struck the pursuer with his stick, and that - the man died of his injuries. Hayes brought Arthur to his public-house, - the Fighting Cock, where he was confined in an upper room, under the care - of Mrs. Hayes, who is a kindly woman, but entirely under the control of - her brutal husband. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw you two - days ago. I had no more idea of the truth than you. You will ask me what - was James’s motive in doing such a deed. I answer that there was a great - deal which was unreasoning and fanatical in the hatred which he bore my - heir. In his view he should himself have been heir of all my estates, and - he deeply resented those social laws which made it impossible. At the same - time, he had a definite motive also. He was eager that I should break the - entail, and he was of opinion that it lay in my power to do so. He - intended to make a bargain with me—to restore Arthur if I would - break the entail, and so make it possible for the estate to be left to him - by will. He knew well that I should never willingly invoke the aid of the - police against him. I say that he would have proposed such a bargain to - me, but he did not actually do so, for events moved too quickly for him, - and he had not time to put his plans into practice. - </p> - <p> - “What brought all his wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery of this - man Heidegger’s dead body. James was seized with horror at the news. It - came to us yesterday, as we sat together in this study. Dr. Huxtable had - sent a telegram. James was so overwhelmed with grief and agitation that my - suspicions, which had never been entirely absent, rose instantly to a - certainty, and I taxed him with the deed. He made a complete voluntary - confession. Then he implored me to keep his secret for three days longer, - so as to give his wretched accomplice a chance of saving his guilty life. - I yielded—as I have always yielded—to his prayers, and - instantly James hurried off to the Fighting Cock to warn Hayes and give - him the means of flight. I could not go there by daylight without - provoking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see my dear - Arthur. I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expression by the - dreadful deed he had witnessed. In deference to my promise, and much - against my will, I consented to leave him there for three days, under the - charge of Mrs. Hayes, since it was evident that it was impossible to - inform the police where he was without telling them also who was the - murderer, and I could not see how that murderer could be punished without - ruin to my unfortunate James. You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I - have taken you at your word, for I have now told you everything without an - attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do you in turn be as frank with - me.” - </p> - <p> - “I will,” said Holmes. “In the first place, your Grace, I am bound to tell - you that you have placed yourself in a most serious position in the eyes - of the law. You have condoned a felony, and you have aided the escape of a - murderer, for I cannot doubt that any money which was taken by James - Wilder to aid his accomplice in his flight came from your Grace’s purse.” - </p> - <p> - The Duke bowed his assent. - </p> - <p> - “This is, indeed, a most serious matter. Even more culpable in my opinion, - your Grace, is your attitude towards your younger son. You leave him in - this den for three days.” - </p> - <p> - “Under solemn promises——” - </p> - <p> - “What are promises to such people as these? You have no guarantee that he - will not be spirited away again. To humour your guilty elder son, you have - exposed your innocent younger son to imminent and unnecessary danger. It - was a most unjustifiable action.” - </p> - <p> - The proud lord of Holdernesse was not accustomed to be so rated in his own - ducal hall. The blood flushed into his high forehead, but his conscience - held him dumb. - </p> - <p> - “I will help you, but on one condition only. It is that you ring for the - footman and let me give such orders as I like.” - </p> - <p> - Without a word, the Duke pressed the electric bell. A servant entered. - </p> - <p> - “You will be glad to hear,” said Holmes, “that your young master is found. - It is the Duke’s desire that the carriage shall go at once to the Fighting - Cock Inn to bring Lord Saltire home. - </p> - <p> - “Now,” said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey had disappeared, “having - secured the future, we can afford to be more lenient with the past. I am - not in an official position, and there is no reason, so long as the ends - of justice are served, why I should disclose all that I know. As to Hayes, - I say nothing. The gallows awaits him, and I would do nothing to save him - from it. What he will divulge I cannot tell, but I have no doubt that your - Grace could make him understand that it is to his interest to be silent. - From the police point of view he will have kidnapped the boy for the - purpose of ransom. If they do not themselves find it out, I see no reason - why I should prompt them to take a broader point of view. I would warn - your Grace, however, that the continued presence of Mr. James Wilder in - your household can only lead to misfortune.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shall - leave me forever, and go to seek his fortune in Australia.” - </p> - <p> - “In that case, your Grace, since you have yourself stated that any - unhappiness in your married life was caused by his presence, I would - suggest that you make such amends as you can to the Duchess, and that you - try to resume those relations which have been so unhappily interrupted.” - </p> - <p> - “That also I have arranged, Mr. Holmes. I wrote to the Duchess this - morning.” - </p> - <p> - “In that case,” said Holmes, rising, “I think that my friend and I can - congratulate ourselves upon several most happy results from our little - visit to the North. There is one other small point upon which I desire - some light. This fellow Hayes had shod his horses with shoes which - counterfeited the tracks of cows. Was it from Mr. Wilder that he learned - so extraordinary a device?” - </p> - <p> - The Duke stood in thought for a moment, with a look of intense surprise on - his face. Then he opened a door and showed us into a large room furnished - as a museum. He led the way to a glass case in a corner, and pointed to - the inscription. - </p> - <p> - “These shoes,” it ran, “were dug up in the moat of Holdernesse Hall. They - are for the use of horses, but they are shaped below with a cloven foot of - iron, so as to throw pursuers off the track. They are supposed to have - belonged to some of the marauding Barons of Holdernesse in the Middle - Ages.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes opened the case, and moistening his finger he passed it along the - shoe. A thin film of recent mud was left upon his skin. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” said he, as he replaced the glass. “It is the second most - interesting object that I have seen in the North.” - </p> - <p> - “And the first?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes folded up his check and placed it carefully in his notebook. “I am - a poor man,” said he, as he patted it affectionately, and thrust it into - the depths of his inner pocket. - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap06"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF BLACK PETER</h2> - - <p> - I have never known my friend to be in better form, both mental and - physical, than in the year ’95. His increasing fame had brought with it an - immense practice, and I should be guilty of an indiscretion if I were even - to hint at the identity of some of the illustrious clients who crossed our - humble threshold in Baker Street. Holmes, however, like all great artists, - lived for his art’s sake, and, save in the case of the Duke of - Holdernesse, I have seldom known him claim any large reward for his - inestimable services. So unworldly was he—or so capricious—that - he frequently refused his help to the powerful and wealthy where the - problem made no appeal to his sympathies, while he would devote weeks of - most intense application to the affairs of some humble client whose case - presented those strange and dramatic qualities which appealed to his - imagination and challenged his ingenuity. - </p> - <p> - In this memorable year ’95, a curious and incongruous succession of cases - had engaged his attention, ranging from his famous investigation of the - sudden death of Cardinal Tosca—an inquiry which was carried out by - him at the express desire of His Holiness the Pope—down to his - arrest of Wilson, the notorious canary-trainer, which removed a - plague-spot from the East End of London. Close on the heels of these two - famous cases came the tragedy of Woodman’s Lee, and the very obscure - circumstances which surrounded the death of Captain Peter Carey. No record - of the doings of Mr. Sherlock Holmes would be complete which did not - include some account of this very unusual affair. - </p> - <p> - During the first week of July, my friend had been absent so often and so - long from our lodgings that I knew he had something on hand. The fact that - several rough-looking men called during that time and inquired for Captain - Basil made me understand that Holmes was working somewhere under one of - the numerous disguises and names with which he concealed his own - formidable identity. He had at least five small refuges in different parts - of London, in which he was able to change his personality. He said nothing - of his business to me, and it was not my habit to force a confidence. The - first positive sign which he gave me of the direction which his - investigation was taking was an extraordinary one. He had gone out before - breakfast, and I had sat down to mine when he strode into the room, his - hat upon his head and a huge barbed-headed spear tucked like an umbrella - under his arm. - </p> - <p> - “Good gracious, Holmes!” I cried. “You don’t mean to say that you have - been walking about London with that thing?” - </p> - <p> - “I drove to the butcher’s and back.” - </p> - <p> - “The butcher’s?” - </p> - <p> - “And I return with an excellent appetite. There can be no question, my - dear Watson, of the value of exercise before breakfast. But I am prepared - to bet that you will not guess the form that my exercise has taken.” - </p> - <p> - “I will not attempt it.” - </p> - <p> - He chuckled as he poured out the coffee. - </p> - <p> - “If you could have looked into Allardyce’s back shop, you would have seen - a dead pig swung from a hook in the ceiling, and a gentleman in his shirt - sleeves furiously stabbing at it with this weapon. I was that energetic - person, and I have satisfied myself that by no exertion of my strength can - I transfix the pig with a single blow. Perhaps you would care to try?” - </p> - <p> - “Not for worlds. But why were you doing this?” - </p> - <p> - “Because it seemed to me to have an indirect bearing upon the mystery of - Woodman’s Lee. Ah, Hopkins, I got your wire last night, and I have been - expecting you. Come and join us.” - </p> - <p> - Our visitor was an exceedingly alert man, thirty years of age, dressed in - a quiet tweed suit, but retaining the erect bearing of one who was - accustomed to official uniform. I recognized him at once as Stanley - Hopkins, a young police inspector, for whose future Holmes had high hopes, - while he in turn professed the admiration and respect of a pupil for the - scientific methods of the famous amateur. Hopkins’s brow was clouded, and - he sat down with an air of deep dejection. - </p> - <p> - “No, thank you, sir. I breakfasted before I came round. I spent the night - in town, for I came up yesterday to report.” - </p> - <p> - “And what had you to report?” - </p> - <p> - “Failure, sir, absolute failure.” - </p> - <p> - “You have made no progress?” - </p> - <p> - “None.” - </p> - <p> - “Dear me! I must have a look at the matter.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish to heavens that you would, Mr. Holmes. It’s my first big chance, - and I am at my wits’ end. For goodness’ sake, come down and lend me a - hand.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, it just happens that I have already read all the available - evidence, including the report of the inquest, with some care. By the way, - what do you make of that tobacco pouch, found on the scene of the crime? - Is there no clue there?” - </p> - <p> - Hopkins looked surprised. - </p> - <p> - “It was the man’s own pouch, sir. His initials were inside it. And it was - of sealskin,—and he was an old sealer.” - </p> - <p> - “But he had no pipe.” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, we could find no pipe. Indeed, he smoked very little, and yet he - might have kept some tobacco for his friends.” - </p> - <p> - “No doubt. I only mention it because, if I had been handling the case, I - should have been inclined to make that the starting-point of my - investigation. However, my friend, Dr. Watson, knows nothing of this - matter, and I should be none the worse for hearing the sequence of events - once more. Just give us some short sketches of the essentials.” - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket. - </p> - <p> - “I have a few dates here which will give you the career of the dead man, - Captain Peter Carey. He was born in ’45—fifty years of age. He was a - most daring and successful seal and whale fisher. In 1883 he commanded the - steam sealer <i>Sea Unicorn</i>, of Dundee. He had then had several successful - voyages in succession, and in the following year, 1884, he retired. After - that he travelled for some years, and finally he bought a small place - called Woodman’s Lee, near Forest Row, in Sussex. There he has lived for - six years, and there he died just a week ago to-day. - </p> - <p> - “There were some most singular points about the man. In ordinary life, he - was a strict Puritan—a silent, gloomy fellow. His household - consisted of his wife, his daughter, aged twenty, and two female servants. - These last were continually changing, for it was never a very cheery - situation, and sometimes it became past all bearing. The man was an - intermittent drunkard, and when he had the fit on him he was a perfect - fiend. He has been known to drive his wife and daughter out of doors in - the middle of the night and flog them through the park until the whole - village outside the gates was aroused by their screams. - </p> - <p> - “He was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar, who had - called upon him to remonstrate with him upon his conduct. In short, Mr. - Holmes, you would go far before you found a more dangerous man than Peter - Carey, and I have heard that he bore the same character when he commanded - his ship. He was known in the trade as Black Peter, and the name was given - him, not only on account of his swarthy features and the colour of his - huge beard, but for the humours which were the terror of all around him. I - need not say that he was loathed and avoided by every one of his - neighbours, and that I have not heard one single word of sorrow about his - terrible end. - </p> - <p> - “You must have read in the account of the inquest about the man’s cabin, - Mr. Holmes, but perhaps your friend here has not heard of it. He had built - himself a wooden outhouse—he always called it the ‘cabin’—a - few hundred yards from his house, and it was here that he slept every - night. It was a little, single-roomed hut, sixteen feet by ten. He kept - the key in his pocket, made his own bed, cleaned it himself, and allowed - no other foot to cross the threshold. There are small windows on each - side, which were covered by curtains and never opened. One of these - windows was turned towards the high road, and when the light burned in it - at night the folk used to point it out to each other and wonder what Black - Peter was doing in there. That’s the window, Mr. Holmes, which gave us one - of the few bits of positive evidence that came out at the inquest. - </p> - <p> - “You remember that a stonemason, named Slater, walking from Forest Row - about one o’clock in the morning—two days before the murder—stopped - as he passed the grounds and looked at the square of light still shining - among the trees. He swears that the shadow of a man’s head turned sideways - was clearly visible on the blind, and that this shadow was certainly not - that of Peter Carey, whom he knew well. It was that of a bearded man, but - the beard was short and bristled forward in a way very different from that - of the captain. So he says, but he had been two hours in the public-house, - and it is some distance from the road to the window. Besides, this refers - to the Monday, and the crime was done upon the Wednesday. - </p> - <p> - “On the Tuesday, Peter Carey was in one of his blackest moods, flushed - with drink and as savage as a dangerous wild beast. He roamed about the - house, and the women ran for it when they heard him coming. Late in the - evening, he went down to his own hut. About two o’clock the following - morning, his daughter, who slept with her window open, heard a most - fearful yell from that direction, but it was no unusual thing for him to - bawl and shout when he was in drink, so no notice was taken. On rising at - seven, one of the maids noticed that the door of the hut was open, but so - great was the terror which the man caused that it was midday before anyone - would venture down to see what had become of him. Peeping into the open - door, they saw a sight which sent them flying, with white faces, into the - village. Within an hour, I was on the spot and had taken over the case. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I have fairly steady nerves, as you know, Mr. Holmes, but I give - you my word, that I got a shake when I put my head into that little house. - It was droning like a harmonium with the flies and bluebottles, and the - floor and walls were like a slaughter-house. He had called it a cabin, and - a cabin it was, sure enough, for you would have thought that you were in a - ship. There was a bunk at one end, a sea-chest, maps and charts, a picture - of the <i>Sea Unicorn</i>, a line of logbooks on a shelf, all exactly as one - would expect to find it in a captain’s room. And there, in the middle of - it, was the man himself—his face twisted like a lost soul in - torment, and his great brindled beard stuck upward in his agony. Right - through his broad breast a steel harpoon had been driven, and it had sunk - deep into the wood of the wall behind him. He was pinned like a beetle on - a card. Of course, he was quite dead, and had been so from the instant - that he had uttered that last yell of agony. - </p> - <p> - “I know your methods, sir, and I applied them. Before I permitted anything - to be moved, I examined most carefully the ground outside, and also the - floor of the room. There were no footmarks.” - </p> - <p> - “Meaning that you saw none?” - </p> - <p> - “I assure you, sir, that there were none.” - </p> - <p> - “My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have never yet - seen one which was committed by a flying creature. As long as the criminal - remains upon two legs so long must there be some indentation, some - abrasion, some trifling displacement which can be detected by the - scientific searcher. It is incredible that this blood-bespattered room - contained no trace which could have aided us. I understand, however, from - the inquest that there were some objects which you failed to overlook?” - </p> - <p> - The young inspector winced at my companion’s ironical comments. - </p> - <p> - “I was a fool not to call you in at the time Mr. Holmes. However, that’s - past praying for now. Yes, there were several objects in the room which - called for special attention. One was the harpoon with which the deed was - committed. It had been snatched down from a rack on the wall. Two others - remained there, and there was a vacant place for the third. On the stock - was engraved ‘SS. <i>Sea Unicorn</i>, Dundee.’ This seemed to establish that the - crime had been done in a moment of fury, and that the murderer had seized - the first weapon which came in his way. The fact that the crime was - committed at two in the morning, and yet Peter Carey was fully dressed, - suggested that he had an appointment with the murderer, which is borne out - by the fact that a bottle of rum and two dirty glasses stood upon the - table.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said Holmes; “I think that both inferences are permissible. Was - there any other spirit but rum in the room?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there was a tantalus containing brandy and whisky on the sea-chest. - It is of no importance to us, however, since the decanters were full, and - it had therefore not been used.” - </p> - <p> - “For all that, its presence has some significance,” said Holmes. “However, - let us hear some more about the objects which do seem to you to bear upon - the case.” - </p> - <p> - “There was this tobacco-pouch upon the table.” - </p> - <p> - “What part of the table?” - </p> - <p> - “It lay in the middle. It was of coarse sealskin—the straight-haired - skin, with a leather thong to bind it. Inside was ‘P.C.’ on the flap. - There was half an ounce of strong ship’s tobacco in it.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent! What more?” - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab-covered notebook. The outside - was rough and worn, the leaves discoloured. On the first page were written - the initials “J.H.N.” and the date “1883.” Holmes laid it on the table and - examined it in his minute way, while Hopkins and I gazed over each - shoulder. On the second page were the printed letters “C.P.R.,” and then - came several sheets of numbers. Another heading was “Argentine,” another - “Costa Rica,” and another “San Paulo,” each with pages of signs and - figures after it. - </p> - <p> - “What do you make of these?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “They appear to be lists of Stock Exchange securities. I thought that - ‘J.H.N.’ were the initials of a broker, and that ‘C.P.R.’ may have been - his client.” - </p> - <p> - “Try Canadian Pacific Railway,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth, and struck his thigh with his - clenched hand. - </p> - <p> - “What a fool I have been!” he cried. “Of course, it is as you say. Then - ‘J.H.N.’ are the only initials we have to solve. I have already examined - the old Stock Exchange lists, and I can find no one in 1883, either in the - house or among the outside brokers, whose initials correspond with these. - Yet I feel that the clue is the most important one that I hold. You will - admit, Mr. Holmes, that there is a possibility that these initials are - those of the second person who was present—in other words, of the - murderer. I would also urge that the introduction into the case of a - document relating to large masses of valuable securities gives us for the - first time some indication of a motive for the crime.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes’s face showed that he was thoroughly taken aback by this - new development. - </p> - <p> - “I must admit both your points,” said he. “I confess that this notebook, - which did not appear at the inquest, modifies any views which I may have - formed. I had come to a theory of the crime in which I can find no place - for this. Have you endeavoured to trace any of the securities here - mentioned?” - </p> - <p> - “Inquiries are now being made at the offices, but I fear that the complete - register of the stockholders of these South American concerns is in South - America, and that some weeks must elapse before we can trace the shares.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes had been examining the cover of the notebook with his magnifying - lens. - </p> - <p> - “Surely there is some discolouration here,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, it is a blood-stain. I told you that I picked the book off the - floor.” - </p> - <p> - “Was the blood-stain above or below?” - </p> - <p> - “On the side next the boards.” - </p> - <p> - “Which proves, of course, that the book was dropped after the crime was - committed.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly, Mr. Holmes. I appreciated that point, and I conjectured that it - was dropped by the murderer in his hurried flight. It lay near the door.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose that none of these securities have been found among the - property of the dead man?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you any reason to suspect robbery?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir. Nothing seemed to have been touched.” - </p> - <p> - “Dear me, it is certainly a very interesting case. Then there was a knife, - was there not?” - </p> - <p> - “A sheath-knife, still in its sheath. It lay at the feet of the dead man. - Mrs. Carey has identified it as being her husband’s property.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes was lost in thought for some time. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said he, at last, “I suppose I shall have to come out and have a - look at it.” - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins gave a cry of joy. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, sir. That will, indeed, be a weight off my mind.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes shook his finger at the inspector. - </p> - <p> - “It would have been an easier task a week ago,” said he. “But even now my - visit may not be entirely fruitless. Watson, if you can spare the time, I - should be very glad of your company. If you will call a four-wheeler, - Hopkins, we shall be ready to start for Forest Row in a quarter of an - hour.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - Alighting at the small wayside station, we drove for some miles through - the remains of widespread woods, which were once part of that great forest - which for so long held the Saxon invaders at bay—the impenetrable - “weald,” for sixty years the bulwark of Britain. Vast sections of it have - been cleared, for this is the seat of the first iron-works of the country, - and the trees have been felled to smelt the ore. Now the richer fields of - the North have absorbed the trade, and nothing save these ravaged groves - and great scars in the earth show the work of the past. Here, in a - clearing upon the green slope of a hill, stood a long, low, stone house, - approached by a curving drive running through the fields. Nearer the road, - and surrounded on three sides by bushes, was a small outhouse, one window - and the door facing in our direction. It was the scene of the murder. - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins led us first to the house, where he introduced us to a - haggard, grey-haired woman, the widow of the murdered man, whose gaunt and - deep-lined face, with the furtive look of terror in the depths of her - red-rimmed eyes, told of the years of hardship and ill-usage which she had - endured. With her was her daughter, a pale, fair-haired girl, whose eyes - blazed defiantly at us as she told us that she was glad that her father - was dead, and that she blessed the hand which had struck him down. It was - a terrible household that Black Peter Carey had made for himself, and it - was with a sense of relief that we found ourselves in the sunlight again - and making our way along a path which had been worn across the fields by - the feet of the dead man. - </p> - <p> - The outhouse was the simplest of dwellings, wooden-walled, shingle-roofed, - one window beside the door and one on the farther side. Stanley Hopkins - drew the key from his pocket and had stooped to the lock, when he paused - with a look of attention and surprise upon his face. - </p> - <p> - “Someone has been tampering with it,” he said. - </p> - <p> - There could be no doubt of the fact. The woodwork was cut, and the - scratches showed white through the paint, as if they had been that instant - done. Holmes had been examining the window. - </p> - <p> - “Someone has tried to force this also. Whoever it was has failed to make - his way in. He must have been a very poor burglar.” - </p> - <p> - “This is a most extraordinary thing,” said the inspector, “I could swear - that these marks were not here yesterday evening.” - </p> - <p> - “Some curious person from the village, perhaps,” I suggested. - </p> - <p> - “Very unlikely. Few of them would dare to set foot in the grounds, far - less try to force their way into the cabin. What do you think of it, Mr. - Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “I think that fortune is very kind to us.” - </p> - <p> - “You mean that the person will come again?” - </p> - <p> - “It is very probable. He came expecting to find the door open. He tried to - get in with the blade of a very small penknife. He could not manage it. - What would he do?” - </p> - <p> - “Come again next night with a more useful tool.” - </p> - <p> - “So I should say. It will be our fault if we are not there to receive him. - Meanwhile, let me see the inside of the cabin.” - </p> - <p> - The traces of the tragedy had been removed, but the furniture within the - little room still stood as it had been on the night of the crime. For two - hours, with most intense concentration, Holmes examined every object in - turn, but his face showed that his quest was not a successful one. Once - only he paused in his patient investigation. - </p> - <p> - “Have you taken anything off this shelf, Hopkins?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I have moved nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “Something has been taken. There is less dust in this corner of the shelf - than elsewhere. It may have been a book lying on its side. It may have - been a box. Well, well, I can do nothing more. Let us walk in these - beautiful woods, Watson, and give a few hours to the birds and the - flowers. We shall meet you here later, Hopkins, and see if we can come to - closer quarters with the gentleman who has paid this visit in the night.” - </p> - <p> - It was past eleven o’clock when we formed our little ambuscade. Hopkins - was for leaving the door of the hut open, but Holmes was of the opinion - that this would rouse the suspicions of the stranger. The lock was a - perfectly simple one, and only a strong blade was needed to push it back. - Holmes also suggested that we should wait, not inside the hut, but outside - it, among the bushes which grew round the farther window. In this way we - should be able to watch our man if he struck a light, and see what his - object was in this stealthy nocturnal visit. - </p> - <p> - It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it something of - the thrill which the hunter feels when he lies beside the water-pool, and - waits for the coming of the thirsty beast of prey. What savage creature - was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness? Was it a fierce - tiger of crime, which could only be taken fighting hard with flashing fang - and claw, or would it prove to be some skulking jackal, dangerous only to - the weak and unguarded? - </p> - <p> - In absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes, waiting for whatever - might come. At first the steps of a few belated villagers, or the sound of - voices from the village, lightened our vigil, but one by one these - interruptions died away, and an absolute stillness fell upon us, save for - the chimes of the distant church, which told us of the progress of the - night, and for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain falling amid the - foliage which roofed us in. - </p> - <p> - Half-past two had chimed, and it was the darkest hour which precedes the - dawn, when we all started as a low but sharp click came from the direction - of the gate. Someone had entered the drive. Again there was a long - silence, and I had begun to fear that it was a false alarm, when a - stealthy step was heard upon the other side of the hut, and a moment later - a metallic scraping and clinking. The man was trying to force the lock. - This time his skill was greater or his tool was better, for there was a - sudden snap and the creak of the hinges. Then a match was struck, and next - instant the steady light from a candle filled the interior of the hut. - Through the gauze curtain our eyes were all riveted upon the scene within. - </p> - <p> - The nocturnal visitor was a young man, frail and thin, with a black - moustache, which intensified the deadly pallor of his face. He could not - have been much above twenty years of age. I have never seen any human - being who appeared to be in such a pitiable fright, for his teeth were - visibly chattering, and he was shaking in every limb. He was dressed like - a gentleman, in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon - his head. We watched him staring round with frightened eyes. Then he laid - the candle-end upon the table and disappeared from our view into one of - the corners. He returned with a large book, one of the logbooks which - formed a line upon the shelves. Leaning on the table, he rapidly turned - over the leaves of this volume until he came to the entry which he sought. - Then, with an angry gesture of his clenched hand, he closed the book, - replaced it in the corner, and put out the light. He had hardly turned to - leave the hut when Hopkin’s hand was on the fellow’s collar, and I heard - his loud gasp of terror as he understood that he was taken. The candle was - relit, and there was our wretched captive, shivering and cowering in the - grasp of the detective. He sank down upon the sea-chest, and looked - helplessly from one of us to the other. - </p> - <p> - “Now, my fine fellow,” said Stanley Hopkins, “who are you, and what do you - want here?” - </p> - <p> - The man pulled himself together, and faced us with an effort at - self-composure. - </p> - <p> - “You are detectives, I suppose?” said he. “You imagine I am connected with - the death of Captain Peter Carey. I assure you that I am innocent.” - </p> - <p> - “We’ll see about that,” said Hopkins. “First of all, what is your name?” - </p> - <p> - “It is John Hopley Neligan.” - </p> - <p> - I saw Holmes and Hopkins exchange a quick glance. - </p> - <p> - “What are you doing here?” - </p> - <p> - “Can I speak confidentially?” - </p> - <p> - “No, certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “Why should I tell you?” - </p> - <p> - “If you have no answer, it may go badly with you at the trial.” - </p> - <p> - The young man winced. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I will tell you,” he said. “Why should I not? And yet I hate to - think of this old scandal gaining a new lease of life. Did you ever hear - of Dawson and Neligan?” - </p> - <p> - I could see, from Hopkins’s face, that he never had, but Holmes was keenly - interested. - </p> - <p> - “You mean the West Country bankers,” said he. “They failed for a million, - ruined half the county families of Cornwall, and Neligan disappeared.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. Neligan was my father.” - </p> - <p> - At last we were getting something positive, and yet it seemed a long gap - between an absconding banker and Captain Peter Carey pinned against the - wall with one of his own harpoons. We all listened intently to the young - man’s words. - </p> - <p> - “It was my father who was really concerned. Dawson had retired. I was only - ten years of age at the time, but I was old enough to feel the shame and - horror of it all. It has always been said that my father stole all the - securities and fled. It is not true. It was his belief that if he were - given time in which to realize them, all would be well and every creditor - paid in full. He started in his little yacht for Norway just before the - warrant was issued for his arrest. I can remember that last night when he - bade farewell to my mother. He left us a list of the securities he was - taking, and he swore that he would come back with his honour cleared, and - that none who had trusted him would suffer. Well, no word was ever heard - from him again. Both the yacht and he vanished utterly. We believed, my - mother and I, that he and it, with the securities that he had taken with - him, were at the bottom of the sea. We had a faithful friend, however, who - is a business man, and it was he who discovered some time ago that some of - the securities which my father had with him had reappeared on the London - market. You can imagine our amazement. I spent months in trying to trace - them, and at last, after many doubtings and difficulties, I discovered - that the original seller had been Captain Peter Carey, the owner of this - hut. - </p> - <p> - “Naturally, I made some inquiries about the man. I found that he had been - in command of a whaler which was due to return from the Arctic seas at the - very time when my father was crossing to Norway. The autumn of that year - was a stormy one, and there was a long succession of southerly gales. My - father’s yacht may well have been blown to the north, and there met by - Captain Peter Carey’s ship. If that were so, what had become of my father? - In any case, if I could prove from Peter Carey’s evidence how these - securities came on the market it would be a proof that my father had not - sold them, and that he had no view to personal profit when he took them. - </p> - <p> - “I came down to Sussex with the intention of seeing the captain, but it - was at this moment that his terrible death occurred. I read at the inquest - a description of his cabin, in which it stated that the old logbooks of - his vessel were preserved in it. It struck me that if I could see what - occurred in the month of August, 1883, on board the <i>Sea Unicorn</i>, I might - settle the mystery of my father’s fate. I tried last night to get at these - logbooks, but was unable to open the door. To-night I tried again and - succeeded, but I find that the pages which deal with that month have been - torn from the book. It was at that moment I found myself a prisoner in - your hands.” - </p> - <p> - “Is that all?” asked Hopkins. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that is all.” His eyes shifted as he said it. - </p> - <p> - “You have nothing else to tell us?” - </p> - <p> - He hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “No, there is nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “You have not been here before last night?” - </p> - <p> - “No. - </p> - <p> - “Then how do you account for <i>that</i>?” cried Hopkins, as he held up the - damning notebook, with the initials of our prisoner on the first leaf and - the blood-stain on the cover. - </p> - <p> - The wretched man collapsed. He sank his face in his hands, and trembled - all over. - </p> - <p> - “Where did you get it?” he groaned. “I did not know. I thought I had lost - it at the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - “That is enough,” said Hopkins, sternly. “Whatever else you have to say, - you must say in court. You will walk down with me now to the - police-station. Well, Mr. Holmes, I am very much obliged to you and to - your friend for coming down to help me. As it turns out your presence was - unnecessary, and I would have brought the case to this successful issue - without you, but, none the less, I am grateful. Rooms have been reserved - for you at the Brambletye Hotel, so we can all walk down to the village - together.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Watson, what do you think of it?” asked Holmes, as we travelled - back next morning. - </p> - <p> - “I can see that you are not satisfied.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, my dear Watson, I am perfectly satisfied. At the same time, - Stanley Hopkins’s methods do not commend themselves to me. I am - disappointed in Stanley Hopkins. I had hoped for better things from him. - One should always look for a possible alternative, and provide against it. - It is the first rule of criminal investigation.” - </p> - <p> - “What, then, is the alternative?” - </p> - <p> - “The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing. It may give - us nothing. I cannot tell. But at least I shall follow it to the end.” - </p> - <p> - Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street. He snatched one - of them up, opened it, and burst out into a triumphant chuckle of - laughter. - </p> - <p> - “Excellent, Watson! The alternative develops. Have you telegraph forms? - Just write a couple of messages for me: ‘Sumner, Shipping Agent, Ratcliff - Highway. Send three men on, to arrive ten to-morrow morning.—Basil.’ - That’s my name in those parts. The other is: ‘Inspector Stanley Hopkins, - 46 Lord Street, Brixton. Come breakfast to-morrow at nine-thirty. - Important. Wire if unable to come.—Sherlock Holmes.’ There, Watson, - this infernal case has haunted me for ten days. I hereby banish it - completely from my presence. To-morrow, I trust that we shall hear the - last of it forever.” - </p> - <p> - Sharp at the hour named Inspector Stanley Hopkins appeared, and we sat - down together to the excellent breakfast which Mrs. Hudson had prepared. - The young detective was in high spirits at his success. - </p> - <p> - “You really think that your solution must be correct?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “I could not imagine a more complete case.” - </p> - <p> - “It did not seem to me conclusive.” - </p> - <p> - “You astonish me, Mr. Holmes. What more could one ask for?” - </p> - <p> - “Does your explanation cover every point?” - </p> - <p> - “Undoubtedly. I find that young Neligan arrived at the Brambletye Hotel on - the very day of the crime. He came on the pretence of playing golf. His - room was on the ground-floor, and he could get out when he liked. That - very night he went down to Woodman’s Lee, saw Peter Carey at the hut, - quarrelled with him, and killed him with the harpoon. Then, horrified by - what he had done, he fled out of the hut, dropping the notebook which he - had brought with him in order to question Peter Carey about these - different securities. You may have observed that some of them were marked - with ticks, and the others—the great majority—were not. Those - which are ticked have been traced on the London market, but the others, - presumably, were still in the possession of Carey, and young Neligan, - according to his own account, was anxious to recover them in order to do - the right thing by his father’s creditors. After his flight he did not - dare to approach the hut again for some time, but at last he forced - himself to do so in order to obtain the information which he needed. - Surely that is all simple and obvious?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smiled and shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “It seems to me to have only one drawback, Hopkins, and that is - that it is intrinsically impossible. Have you tried to drive a harpoon - through a body? No? Tut, tut my dear sir, you must really pay attention - to these details. My friend Watson could tell you that I spent a whole - morning in that exercise. It is no easy matter, and requires a strong and - practised arm. But this blow was delivered with such violence that the - head of the weapon sank deep into the wall. Do you imagine that this - anæmic youth was capable of so frightful an assault? Is he the man who - hobnobbed in rum and water with Black Peter in the dead of the night? Was - it his profile that was seen on the blind two nights before? No, no, - Hopkins, it is another and more formidable person for whom we must - seek.” - </p> - <p> - The detective’s face had grown longer and longer during Holmes’s speech. - His hopes and his ambitions were all crumbling about him. But he would not - abandon his position without a struggle. - </p> - <p> - “You can’t deny that Neligan was present that night, Mr. Holmes. The book - will prove that. I fancy that I have evidence enough to satisfy a jury, - even if you are able to pick a hole in it. Besides, Mr. Holmes, I have - laid my hand upon <i>my</i> man. As to this terrible person of yours, where is - he?” - </p> - <p> - “I rather fancy that he is on the stair,” said Holmes, serenely. “I think, - Watson, that you would do well to put that revolver where you can reach - it.” He rose and laid a written paper upon a side-table. “Now we are - ready,” said he. - </p> - <p> - There had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and now Mrs. Hudson - opened the door to say that there were three men inquiring for Captain - Basil. - </p> - <p> - “Show them in one by one,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “The first who entered was a little Ribston pippin of a man, with ruddy - cheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers. Holmes had drawn a letter from his - pocket. - </p> - <p> - “What name?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “James Lancaster.” - </p> - <p> - “I am sorry, Lancaster, but the berth is full. Here is half a sovereign - for your trouble. Just step into this room and wait there for a few - minutes.” - </p> - <p> - The second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank hair and sallow - cheeks. His name was Hugh Pattins. He also received his dismissal, his - half-sovereign, and the order to wait. - </p> - <p> - The third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance. A fierce bull-dog - face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard, and two bold, dark eyes - gleamed behind the cover of thick, tufted, overhung eyebrows. He saluted - and stood sailor-fashion, turning his cap round in his hands. - </p> - <p> - “Your name?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Patrick Cairns.” - </p> - <p> - “Harpooner?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. Twenty-six voyages.” - </p> - <p> - “Dundee, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “And ready to start with an exploring ship?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “What wages?” - </p> - <p> - “Eight pounds a month.” - </p> - <p> - “Could you start at once?” - </p> - <p> - “As soon as I get my kit.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you your papers?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” He took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from his pocket. - Holmes glanced over them and returned them. - </p> - <p> - “You are just the man I want,” said he. “Here’s the agreement on the - side-table. If you sign it the whole matter will be settled.” - </p> - <p> - The seaman lurched across the room and took up the pen. - </p> - <p> - “Shall I sign here?” he asked, stooping over the table. - </p> - <p> - Holmes leaned over his shoulder and passed both hands over his neck. - </p> - <p> - “This will do,” said he. - </p> - <p> - I heard a click of steel and a bellow like an enraged bull. The next - instant Holmes and the seaman were rolling on the ground together. He was - a man of such gigantic strength that, even with the handcuffs which Holmes - had so deftly fastened upon his wrists, he would have very quickly - overpowered my friend had Hopkins and I not rushed to his rescue. Only - when I pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to his temple did he at - last understand that resistance was vain. We lashed his ankles with cord, - and rose breathless from the struggle. - </p> - <p> - “I must really apologize, Hopkins,” said Sherlock Holmes. “I fear that the - scrambled eggs are cold. However, you will enjoy the rest of your - breakfast all the better, will you not, for the thought that you have - brought your case to a triumphant conclusion.” - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins was speechless with amazement. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Holmes,” he blurted out at last, with a - very red face. “It seems to me that I have been making a fool of myself - from the beginning. I understand now, what I should never have forgotten, - that I am the pupil and you are the master. Even now I see what you have - done, but I don’t know how you did it or what it signifies.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well,” said Holmes, good-humouredly. “We all learn by experience, - and your lesson this time is that you should never lose sight of the - alternative. You were so absorbed in young Neligan that you could not - spare a thought to Patrick Cairns, the true murderer of Peter Carey.” - </p> - <p> - The hoarse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation. - </p> - <p> - “See here, mister,” said he, “I make no complaint of being man-handled in - this fashion, but I would have you call things by their right names. You - say I murdered Peter Carey, I say I <i>killed</i> Peter Carey, and there’s all - the difference. Maybe you don’t believe what I say. Maybe you think I am - just slinging you a yarn.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all,” said Holmes. “Let us hear what you have to say.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s soon told, and, by the Lord, every word of it is truth. I knew Black - Peter, and when he pulled out his knife I whipped a harpoon through him - sharp, for I knew that it was him or me. That’s how he died. You can call - it murder. Anyhow, I’d as soon die with a rope round my neck as with Black - Peter’s knife in my heart.” - </p> - <p> - “How came you there?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll tell it you from the beginning. Just sit me up a little, so as I can - speak easy. It was in ’83 that it happened—August of that year. - Peter Carey was master of the <i>Sea Unicorn</i>, and I was spare harpooner. We - were coming out of the ice-pack on our way home, with head winds and a - week’s southerly gale, when we picked up a little craft that had been - blown north. There was one man on her—a landsman. The crew had - thought she would founder and had made for the Norwegian coast in the - dinghy. I guess they were all drowned. Well, we took him on board, this - man, and he and the skipper had some long talks in the cabin. All the - baggage we took off with him was one tin box. So far as I know, the man’s - name was never mentioned, and on the second night he disappeared as if he - had never been. It was given out that he had either thrown himself - overboard or fallen overboard in the heavy weather that we were having. - Only one man knew what had happened to him, and that was me, for, with my - own eyes, I saw the skipper tip up his heels and put him over the rail in - the middle watch of a dark night, two days before we sighted the Shetland - Lights. Well, I kept my knowledge to myself, and waited to see what would - come of it. When we got back to Scotland it was easily hushed up, and - nobody asked any questions. A stranger died by accident and it was - nobody’s business to inquire. Shortly after Peter Carey gave up the sea, - and it was long years before I could find where he was. I guessed that he - had done the deed for the sake of what was in that tin box, and that he - could afford now to pay me well for keeping my mouth shut. I found out - where he was through a sailor man that had met him in London, and down I - went to squeeze him. The first night he was reasonable enough, and was - ready to give me what would make me free of the sea for life. We were to - fix it all two nights later. When I came, I found him three parts drunk - and in a vile temper. We sat down and we drank and we yarned about old - times, but the more he drank the less I liked the look on his face. I - spotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I might need it before I - was through. Then at last he broke out at me, spitting and cursing, with - murder in his eyes and a great clasp-knife in his hand. He had not time to - get it from the sheath before I had the harpoon through him. Heavens! what - a yell he gave! and his face gets between me and my sleep. I stood there, - with his blood splashing round me, and I waited for a bit, but all was - quiet, so I took heart once more. I looked round, and there was the tin - box on the shelf. I had as much right to it as Peter Carey, anyhow, so I - took it with me and left the hut. Like a fool I left my baccy-pouch upon - the table. - </p> - <p> - “Now I’ll tell you the queerest part of the whole story. I had hardly got - outside the hut when I heard someone coming, and I hid among the bushes. A - man came slinking along, went into the hut, gave a cry as if he had seen a - ghost, and legged it as hard as he could run until he was out of sight. - Who he was or what he wanted is more than I can tell. For my part I walked - ten miles, got a train at Tunbridge Wells, and so reached London, and no - one the wiser. - </p> - <p> - “Well, when I came to examine the box I found there was no money in it, - and nothing but papers that I would not dare to sell. I had lost my hold - on Black Peter and was stranded in London without a shilling. There was - only my trade left. I saw these advertisements about harpooners, and high - wages, so I went to the shipping agents, and they sent me here. That’s all - I know, and I say again that if I killed Black Peter, the law should give - me thanks, for I saved them the price of a hempen rope.” - </p> - <p> - “A very clear statement said Holmes,” rising and lighting his pipe. “I - think, Hopkins, that you should lose no time in conveying your prisoner to - a place of safety. This room is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr. - Patrick Cairns occupies too large a proportion of our carpet.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes,” said Hopkins, “I do not know how to express my gratitude. - Even now I do not understand how you attained this result.” - </p> - <p> - “Simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from the - beginning. It is very possible if I had known about this notebook it might - have led away my thoughts, as it did yours. But all I heard pointed in the - one direction. The amazing strength, the skill in the use of the harpoon, - the rum and water, the sealskin tobacco-pouch with the coarse tobacco—all - these pointed to a seaman, and one who had been a whaler. I was convinced - that the initials ‘P.C.’ upon the pouch were a coincidence, and not those - of Peter Carey, since he seldom smoked, and no pipe was found in his - cabin. You remember that I asked whether whisky and brandy were in the - cabin. You said they were. How many landsmen are there who would drink rum - when they could get these other spirits? Yes, I was certain it was a - seaman.” - </p> - <p> - “And how did you find him?” - </p> - <p> - “My dear sir, the problem had become a very simple one. If it were a - seaman, it could only be a seaman who had been with him on the <i>Sea - Unicorn</i>. So far as I could learn he had sailed in no other ship. I spent - three days in wiring to Dundee, and at the end of that time I had - ascertained the names of the crew of the <i>Sea Unicorn</i> in 1883. When I found - Patrick Cairns among the harpooners, my research was nearing its end. I - argued that the man was probably in London, and that he would desire to - leave the country for a time. I therefore spent some days in the East End, - devised an Arctic expedition, put forth tempting terms for harpooners who - would serve under Captain Basil—and behold the result!” - </p> - <p> - “Wonderful!” cried Hopkins. “Wonderful!” - </p> - <p> - “You must obtain the release of young Neligan as soon as possible,” said - Holmes. “I confess that I think you owe him some apology. The tin box must - be returned to him, but, of course, the securities which Peter Carey has - sold are lost forever. There’s the cab, Hopkins, and you can remove your - man. If you want me for the trial, my address and that of Watson will be - somewhere in Norway—I’ll send particulars later.” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap07"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON</h2> - - <p> - It is years since the incidents of which I speak took place, and yet it is - with diffidence that I allude to them. For a long time, even with the - utmost discretion and reticence, it would have been impossible to make the - facts public, but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach - of human law, and with due suppression the story may be told in such - fashion as to injure no one. It records an absolutely unique experience in - the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. The reader will - excuse me if I conceal the date or any other fact by which he might trace - the actual occurrence. - </p> - <p> - We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and had - returned about six o’clock on a cold, frosty winter’s evening. As Holmes - turned up the lamp the light fell upon a card on the table. He glanced at - it, and then, with an ejaculation of disgust, threw it on the floor. I - picked it up and read: - </p> - <p class="center"> - CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON,<br> - Appledore Towers,<br> - Hampstead. - <br> - <i>Agent</i>. - </p> - <p> - “Who is he?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “The worst man in London,” Holmes answered, as he sat down and stretched - his legs before the fire. “Is anything on the back of the card?” - </p> - <p> - I turned it over. - </p> - <p> - “Will call at 6:30—C.A.M.,” I read. - </p> - <p> - “Hum! He’s about due. Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, - when you stand before the serpents in the Zoo, and see the slithery, - gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened - faces? Well, that’s how Milverton impresses me. I’ve had to do with fifty - murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion - which I have for this fellow. And yet I can’t get out of doing business - with him—indeed, he is here at my invitation.” - </p> - <p> - “But who is he?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers. Heaven - help the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and reputation come - into the power of Milverton! With a smiling face and a heart of marble, he - will squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry. The fellow is a - genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savoury - trade. His method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he is - prepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people of - wealth and position. He receives these wares not only from treacherous - valets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians, who have gained the - confidence and affection of trusting women. He deals with no niggard hand. - I happen to know that he paid seven hundred pounds to a footman for a note - two lines in length, and that the ruin of a noble family was the result. - Everything which is in the market goes to Milverton, and there are - hundreds in this great city who turn white at his name. No one knows where - his grip may fall, for he is far too rich and far too cunning to work from - hand to mouth. He will hold a card back for years in order to play it at - the moment when the stake is best worth winning. I have said that he is - the worst man in London, and I would ask you how could one compare the - ruffian, who in hot blood bludgeons his mate, with this man, who - methodically and at his leisure tortures the soul and wrings the nerves in - order to add to his already swollen money-bags?” - </p> - <p> - I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling. - </p> - <p> - “But surely,” said I, “the fellow must be within the grasp of the law?” - </p> - <p> - “Technically, no doubt, but practically not. What would it profit a woman, - for example, to get him a few months’ imprisonment if her own ruin must - immediately follow? His victims dare not hit back. If ever he blackmailed - an innocent person, then indeed we should have him, but he is as cunning - as the Evil One. No, no, we must find other ways to fight him.” - </p> - <p> - “And why is he here?” - </p> - <p> - “Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It - is the Lady Eva Blackwell, the most beautiful <i>débutante</i> of last season. - She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend - has several imprudent letters—imprudent, Watson, nothing worse—which - were written to an impecunious young squire in the country. They would - suffice to break off the match. Milverton will send the letters to the - Earl unless a large sum of money is paid him. I have been commissioned to - meet him, and—to make the best terms I can.” - </p> - <p> - At that instant there was a clatter and a rattle in the street below. - Looking down I saw a stately carriage and pair, the brilliant lamps - gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A footman opened - the door, and a small, stout man in a shaggy astrakhan overcoat descended. - A minute later he was in the room. - </p> - <p> - Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large, intellectual - head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual frozen smile, and two - keen grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad, gold-rimmed - glasses. There was something of Mr. Pickwick’s benevolence in his - appearance, marred only by the insincerity of the fixed smile and by the - hard glitter of those restless and penetrating eyes. His voice was as - smooth and suave as his countenance, as he advanced with a plump little - hand extended, murmuring his regret for having missed us at his first - visit. Holmes disregarded the outstretched hand and looked at him with a - face of granite. Milverton’s smile broadened, he shrugged his shoulders - removed his overcoat, folded it with great deliberation over the back of a - chair, and then took a seat. - </p> - <p> - “This gentleman?” said he, with a wave in my direction. “Is it discreet? - Is it right?” - </p> - <p> - “Dr. Watson is my friend and partner.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good, Mr. Holmes. It is only in your client’s interests that I - protested. The matter is so very delicate——” - </p> - <p> - “Dr. Watson has already heard of it.” - </p> - <p> - “Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting for Lady - Eva. Has she empowered you to accept my terms?” - </p> - <p> - “What are your terms?” - </p> - <p> - “Seven thousand pounds.” - </p> - <p> - “And the alternative?” - </p> - <p> - “My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it, but if the money is not - paid on the 14th, there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th.” His - insufferable smile was more complacent than ever. - </p> - <p> - Holmes thought for a little. - </p> - <p> - “You appear to me,” he said, at last, “to be taking matters too much for - granted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters. My - client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her to tell - her future husband the whole story and to trust to his generosity.” - </p> - <p> - Milverton chuckled. - </p> - <p> - “You evidently do not know the Earl,” said he. - </p> - <p> - From the baffled look upon Holmes’s face, I could see clearly that he did. - </p> - <p> - “What harm is there in the letters?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “They are sprightly—very sprightly,” Milverton answered. “The lady - was a charming correspondent. But I can assure you that the Earl of - Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them. However, since you think - otherwise, we will let it rest at that. It is purely a matter of business. - If you think that it is in the best interests of your client that these - letters should be placed in the hands of the Earl, then you would indeed - be foolish to pay so large a sum of money to regain them.” He rose and - seized his astrakhan coat. - </p> - <p> - Holmes was grey with anger and mortification. - </p> - <p> - “Wait a little,” he said. “You go too fast. We should certainly make every - effort to avoid scandal in so delicate a matter.” - </p> - <p> - Milverton relapsed into his chair. - </p> - <p> - “I was sure that you would see it in that light,” he purred. - </p> - <p> - “At the same time,” Holmes continued, “Lady Eva is not a wealthy woman. I - assure you that two thousand pounds would be a drain upon her resources, - and that the sum you name is utterly beyond her power. I beg, therefore, - that you will moderate your demands, and that you will return the letters - at the price I indicate, which is, I assure you, the highest that you can - get.” - </p> - <p> - Milverton’s smile broadened and his eyes twinkled humorously. - </p> - <p> - “I am aware that what you say is true about the lady’s resources,” said - he. “At the same time you must admit that the occasion of a lady’s - marriage is a very suitable time for her friends and relatives to make - some little effort upon her behalf. They may hesitate as to an acceptable - wedding present. Let me assure them that this little bundle of letters - would give more joy than all the candelabra and butter-dishes in London.” - </p> - <p> - “It is impossible,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate!” cried Milverton, taking out a bulky - pocketbook. “I cannot help thinking that ladies are ill-advised in not - making an effort. Look at this!” He held up a little note with a - coat-of-arms upon the envelope. “That belongs to—well, perhaps it is - hardly fair to tell the name until to-morrow morning. But at that time it - will be in the hands of the lady’s husband. And all because she will not - find a beggarly sum which she could get by turning her diamonds into - paste. It <i>is</i> such a pity! Now, you remember the sudden end of the - engagement between the Honourable Miss Miles and Colonel Dorking? Only two - days before the wedding, there was a paragraph in the <i>Morning Post</i> to say - that it was all off. And why? It is almost incredible, but the absurd sum - of twelve hundred pounds would have settled the whole question. Is it not - pitiful? And here I find you, a man of sense, boggling about terms, when - your client’s future and honour are at stake. You surprise me, Mr. - Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “What I say is true,” Holmes answered. “The money cannot be found. Surely - it is better for you to take the substantial sum which I offer than to - ruin this woman’s career, which can profit you in no way?” - </p> - <p> - “There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit me - indirectly to a considerable extent. I have eight or ten similar cases - maturing. If it was circulated among them that I had made a severe example - of the Lady Eva, I should find all of them much more open to reason. You - see my point?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes sprang from his chair. - </p> - <p> - “Get behind him, Watson! Don’t let him out! Now, sir, let us see the - contents of that notebook.” - </p> - <p> - Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room and stood - with his back against the wall. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes,” he said, turning the front of his coat and - exhibiting the butt of a large revolver, which projected from the inside - pocket. “I have been expecting you to do something original. This has been - done so often, and what good has ever come from it? I assure you that I am - armed to the teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing - that the law will support me. Besides, your supposition that I would bring - the letters here in a notebook is entirely mistaken. I would do nothing so - foolish. And now, gentlemen, I have one or two little interviews this - evening, and it is a long drive to Hampstead.” He stepped forward, took up - his coat, laid his hand on his revolver, and turned to the door. I picked - up a chair, but Holmes shook his head, and I laid it down again. With bow, - a smile, and a twinkle, Milverton was out of the room, and a few moments - after we heard the slam of the carriage door and the rattle of the wheels - as he drove away. - </p> - <p> - Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his trouser - pockets, his chin sunk upon his breast, his eyes fixed upon the glowing - embers. For half an hour he was silent and still. Then, with the gesture - of a man who has taken his decision, he sprang to his feet and passed into - his bedroom. A little later a rakish young workman, with a goatee beard - and a swagger, lit his clay pipe at the lamp before descending into the - street. “I’ll be back some time, Watson,” said he, and vanished into the - night. I understood that he had opened his campaign against Charles - Augustus Milverton, but I little dreamed the strange shape which that - campaign was destined to take. - </p> - <p> - For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire, but beyond - a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead, and that it was not wasted, - I knew nothing of what he was doing. At last, however, on a wild, - tempestuous evening, when the wind screamed and rattled against the - windows, he returned from his last expedition, and having removed his - disguise he sat before the fire and laughed heartily in his silent inward - fashion. - </p> - <p> - “You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?” - </p> - <p> - “No, indeed!” - </p> - <p> - “You’ll be interested to hear that I’m engaged.” - </p> - <p> - “My dear fellow! I congrat——” - </p> - <p> - “To Milverton’s housemaid.” - </p> - <p> - “Good heavens, Holmes!” - </p> - <p> - “I wanted information, Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely you have gone too far?” - </p> - <p> - “It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a rising business, - Escott, by name. I have walked out with her each evening, and I have - talked with her. Good heavens, those talks! However, I have got all I - wanted. I know Milverton’s house as I know the palm of my hand.” - </p> - <p> - “But the girl, Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - He shrugged his shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “You can’t help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards as best you - can when such a stake is on the table. However, I rejoice to say that I - have a hated rival, who will certainly cut me out the instant that my back - is turned. What a splendid night it is!” - </p> - <p> - “You like this weather?” - </p> - <p> - “It suits my purpose. Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton’s house - to-night.” - </p> - <p> - I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at the words, which - were slowly uttered in a tone of concentrated resolution. As a flash of - lightning in the night shows up in an instant every detail of a wild - landscape, so at one glance I seemed to see every possible result of such - an action—the detection, the capture, the honoured career ending in - irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at the mercy of - the odious Milverton. - </p> - <p> - “For heaven’s sake, Holmes, think what you are doing,” I cried. - </p> - <p> - “My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration. I am never - precipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt so energetic and, indeed, so - dangerous a course, if any other were possible. Let us look at the matter - clearly and fairly. I suppose that you will admit that the action is - morally justifiable, though technically criminal. To burgle his house is - no more than to forcibly take his pocketbook—an action in which you - were prepared to aid me.” - </p> - <p> - I turned it over in my mind. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” I said, “it is morally justifiable so long as our object is to take - no articles save those which are used for an illegal purpose.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. Since it is morally justifiable, I have only to consider the - question of personal risk. Surely a gentleman should not lay much stress - upon this, when a lady is in most desperate need of his help?” - </p> - <p> - “You will be in such a false position.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possible way of - regaining these letters. The unfortunate lady has not the money, and there - are none of her people in whom she could confide. To-morrow is the last - day of grace, and unless we can get the letters to-night, this villain - will be as good as his word and will bring about her ruin. I must, - therefore, abandon my client to her fate or I must play this last card. - Between ourselves, Watson, it’s a sporting duel between this fellow - Milverton and me. He had, as you saw, the best of the first exchanges, but - my self-respect and my reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don’t like it, but I suppose it must be,” said I. “When do we - start?” - </p> - <p> - “You are not coming.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you are not going,” said I. “I give you my word of honour—and - I never broke it in my life—that I will take a cab straight to the - police-station and give you away, unless you let me share this adventure - with you.” - </p> - <p> - “You can’t help me.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know that? You can’t tell what may happen. Anyway, my - resolution is taken. Other people besides you have self-respect, and even - reputations.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on the - shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so. We have shared this same room for - some years, and it would be amusing if we ended by sharing the same cell. - You know, Watson, I don’t mind confessing to you that I have always had an - idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal. This is the - chance of my lifetime in that direction. See here!” He took a neat little - leather case out of a drawer, and opening it he exhibited a number of - shining instruments. “This is a first-class, up-to-date burgling kit, with - nickel-plated jemmy, diamond-tipped glass-cutter, adaptable keys, and - every modern improvement which the march of civilization demands. Here, - too, is my dark lantern. Everything is in order. Have you a pair of silent - shoes?” - </p> - <p> - “I have rubber-soled tennis shoes.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent! And a mask?” - </p> - <p> - “I can make a couple out of black silk.” - </p> - <p> - “I can see that you have a strong, natural turn for this sort of thing. - Very good, do you make the masks. We shall have some cold supper before we - start. It is now nine-thirty. At eleven we shall drive as far as Church - Row. It is a quarter of an hour’s walk from there to Appledore Towers. We - shall be at work before midnight. Milverton is a heavy sleeper, and - retires punctually at ten-thirty. With any luck we should be back here by - two, with the Lady Eva’s letters in my pocket.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes and I put on our dress-clothes, so that we might appear to be two - theatre-goers homeward bound. In Oxford Street we picked up a hansom and - drove to an address in Hampstead. Here we paid off our cab, and with our - great coats buttoned up, for it was bitterly cold, and the wind seemed to - blow through us, we walked along the edge of the heath. - </p> - <p> - “It’s a business that needs delicate treatment,” said Holmes. “These - documents are contained in a safe in the fellow’s study, and the study is - the ante-room of his bed-chamber. On the other hand, like all these stout, - little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha—that’s - my <i>fiancée</i>—says it is a joke in the servants’ hall that it’s - impossible to wake the master. He has a secretary who is devoted to his - interests, and never budges from the study all day. That’s why we are - going at night. Then he has a beast of a dog which roams the garden. I met - Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks the brute up so as to - give me a clear run. This is the house, this big one in its own grounds. - Through the gate—now to the right among the laurels. We might put on - our masks here, I think. You see, there is not a glimmer of light in any - of the windows, and everything is working splendidly.” - </p> - <p> - With our black silk face-coverings, which turned us into two of the most - truculent figures in London, we stole up to the silent, gloomy house. A - sort of tiled veranda extended along one side of it, lined by several - windows and two doors. - </p> - <p> - “That’s his bedroom,” Holmes whispered. “This door opens straight into the - study. It would suit us best, but it is bolted as well as locked, and we - should make too much noise getting in. Come round here. There’s a - greenhouse which opens into the drawing-room.” - </p> - <p> - The place was locked, but Holmes removed a circle of glass and turned the - key from the inside. An instant afterwards he had closed the door behind - us, and we had become felons in the eyes of the law. The thick, warm air - of the conservatory and the rich, choking fragrance of exotic plants took - us by the throat. He seized my hand in the darkness and led me swiftly - past banks of shrubs which brushed against our faces. Holmes had - remarkable powers, carefully cultivated, of seeing in the dark. Still - holding my hand in one of his, he opened a door, and I was vaguely - conscious that we had entered a large room in which a cigar had been - smoked not long before. He felt his way among the furniture, opened - another door, and closed it behind us. Putting out my hand I felt several - coats hanging from the wall, and I understood that I was in a passage. We - passed along it and Holmes very gently opened a door upon the right-hand - side. Something rushed out at us and my heart sprang into my mouth, but I - could have laughed when I realized that it was the cat. A fire was burning - in this new room, and again the air was heavy with tobacco smoke. Holmes - entered on tiptoe, waited for me to follow, and then very gently closed - the door. We were in Milverton’s study, and a <i>portière</i> at the farther side - showed the entrance to his bedroom. - </p> - <p> - It was a good fire, and the room was illuminated by it. Near the door I - saw the gleam of an electric switch, but it was unnecessary, even if it - had been safe, to turn it on. At one side of the fireplace was a heavy - curtain which covered the bay window we had seen from outside. On the - other side was the door which communicated with the veranda. A desk stood - in the centre, with a turning-chair of shining red leather. Opposite was a - large bookcase, with a marble bust of Athene on the top. In the corner, - between the bookcase and the wall, there stood a tall, green safe, the - firelight flashing back from the polished brass knobs upon its face. - Holmes stole across and looked at it. Then he crept to the door of the - bedroom, and stood with slanting head listening intently. No sound came - from within. Meanwhile it had struck me that it would be wise to secure - our retreat through the outer door, so I examined it. To my amazement, it - was neither locked nor bolted. I touched Holmes on the arm, and he turned - his masked face in that direction. I saw him start, and he was evidently - as surprised as I. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t like it,” he whispered, putting his lips to my very ear. “I can’t - quite make it out. Anyhow, we have no time to lose.” - </p> - <p> - “Can I do anything?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, stand by the door. If you hear anyone come, bolt it on the inside, - and we can get away as we came. If they come the other way, we can get - through the door if our job is done, or hide behind these window curtains - if it is not. Do you understand?” - </p> - <p> - I nodded, and stood by the door. My first feeling of fear had passed away, - and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were - the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. The high object of our - mission, the consciousness that it was unselfish and chivalrous, the - villainous character of our opponent, all added to the sporting interest - of the adventure. Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced and exulted in our - dangers. With a glow of admiration I watched Holmes unrolling his case of - instruments and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accuracy of a - surgeon who performs a delicate operation. I knew that the opening of - safes was a particular hobby with him, and I understood the joy which it - gave him to be confronted with this green and gold monster, the dragon - which held in its maw the reputations of many fair ladies. Turning up the - cuffs of his dress-coat—he had placed his overcoat on a chair—Holmes - laid out two drills, a jemmy, and several skeleton keys. I stood at the - centre door with my eyes glancing at each of the others, ready for any - emergency, though, indeed, my plans were somewhat vague as to what I - should do if we were interrupted. For half an hour, Holmes worked with - concentrated energy, laying down one tool, picking up another, handling - each with the strength and delicacy of the trained mechanic. Finally I - heard a click, the broad green door swung open, and inside I had a glimpse - of a number of paper packets, each tied, sealed, and inscribed. Holmes - picked one out, but it was as hard to read by the flickering fire, and he - drew out his little dark lantern, for it was too dangerous, with Milverton - in the next room, to switch on the electric light. Suddenly I saw him - halt, listen intently, and then in an instant he had swung the door of the - safe to, picked up his coat, stuffed his tools into the pockets, and - darted behind the window curtain, motioning me to do the same. - </p> - <p> - It was only when I had joined him there that I heard what had alarmed his - quicker senses. There was a noise somewhere within the house. A door - slammed in the distance. Then a confused, dull murmur broke itself into - the measured thud of heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. They were in the - passage outside the room. They paused at the door. The door opened. There - was a sharp snick as the electric light was turned on. The door closed - once more, and the pungent reek of a strong cigar was borne to our - nostrils. Then the footsteps continued backward and forward, backward and - forward, within a few yards of us. Finally there was a creak from a chair, - and the footsteps ceased. Then a key clicked in a lock, and I heard the - rustle of papers. - </p> - <p> - So far I had not dared to look out, but now I gently parted the division - of the curtains in front of me and peeped through. From the pressure of - Holmes’s shoulder against mine, I knew that he was sharing my - observations. Right in front of us, and almost within our reach, was the - broad, rounded back of Milverton. It was evident that we had entirely - miscalculated his movements, that he had never been to his bedroom, but - that he had been sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in the - farther wing of the house, the windows of which we had not seen. His - broad, grizzled head, with its shining patch of baldness, was in the - immediate foreground of our vision. He was leaning far back in the red - leather chair, his legs outstretched, a long, black cigar projecting at an - angle from his mouth. He wore a semi-military smoking jacket, - claret-coloured, with a black velvet collar. In his hand he held a long, - legal document which he was reading in an indolent fashion, blowing rings - of tobacco smoke from his lips as he did so. There was no promise of a - speedy departure in his composed bearing and his comfortable attitude. - </p> - <p> - I felt Holmes’s hand steal into mine and give me a reassuring shake, as if - to say that the situation was within his powers, and that he was easy in - his mind. I was not sure whether he had seen what was only too obvious - from my position, that the door of the safe was imperfectly closed, and - that Milverton might at any moment observe it. In my own mind I had - determined that if I were sure, from the rigidity of his gaze, that it had - caught his eye, I would at once spring out, throw my great coat over his - head, pinion him, and leave the rest to Holmes. But Milverton never looked - up. He was languidly interested by the papers in his hand, and page after - page was turned as he followed the argument of the lawyer. At least, I - thought, when he has finished the document and the cigar he will go to his - room, but before he had reached the end of either, there came a remarkable - development, which turned our thoughts into quite another channel. - </p> - <p> - Several times I had observed that Milverton looked at his watch, and once - he had risen and sat down again, with a gesture of impatience. The idea, - however, that he might have an appointment at so strange an hour never - occurred to me until a faint sound reached my ears from the veranda - outside. Milverton dropped his papers and sat rigid in his chair. The - sound was repeated, and then there came a gentle tap at the door. - Milverton rose and opened it. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said he, curtly, “you are nearly half an hour late.” - </p> - <p> - So this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the nocturnal - vigil of Milverton. There was the gentle rustle of a woman’s dress. I had - closed the slit between the curtains as Milverton’s face had turned in our - direction, but now I ventured very carefully to open it once more. He had - resumed his seat, the cigar still projecting at an insolent angle from the - corner of his mouth. In front of him, in the full glare of the electric - light, there stood a tall, slim, dark woman, a veil over her face, a - mantle drawn round her chin. Her breath came quick and fast, and every - inch of the lithe figure was quivering with strong emotion. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Milverton, “you made me lose a good night’s rest, my dear. I - hope you’ll prove worth it. You couldn’t come any other time—eh?” - </p> - <p> - The woman shook her head. - </p> - <p> - “Well, if you couldn’t you couldn’t. If the Countess is a hard mistress, - you have your chance to get level with her now. Bless the girl, what are - you shivering about? That’s right. Pull yourself together. Now, let us get - down to business.” He took a notebook from the drawer of his desk. “You - say that you have five letters which compromise the Countess d’Albert. You - want to sell them. I want to buy them. So far so good. It only remains to - fix a price. I should want to inspect the letters, of course. If they are - really good specimens—Great heavens, is it you?” - </p> - <p> - The woman, without a word, had raised her veil and dropped the mantle from - her chin. It was a dark, handsome, clear-cut face which confronted - Milverton—a face with a curved nose, strong, dark eyebrows shading - hard, glittering eyes, and a straight, thin-lipped mouth set in a - dangerous smile. - </p> - <p> - “It is I,” she said, “the woman whose life you have ruined.” - </p> - <p> - Milverton laughed, but fear vibrated in his voice. “You were so very - obstinate,” said he. “Why did you drive me to such extremities? I assure - you I wouldn’t hurt a fly of my own accord, but every man has his - business, and what was I to do? I put the price well within your means. - You would not pay.” - </p> - <p> - “So you sent the letters to my husband, and he—the noblest gentleman - that ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace—he - broke his gallant heart and died. You remember that last night, when I - came through that door, I begged and prayed you for mercy, and you laughed - in my face as you are trying to laugh now, only your coward heart cannot - keep your lips from twitching. Yes, you never thought to see me here - again, but it was that night which taught me how I could meet you face to - face, and alone. Well, Charles Milverton, what have you to say?” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t imagine that you can bully me,” said he, rising to his feet. “I - have only to raise my voice and I could call my servants and have you - arrested. But I will make allowance for your natural anger. Leave the room - at once as you came, and I will say no more.” - </p> - <p> - The woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom, and the same deadly - smile on her thin lips. - </p> - <p> - “You will ruin no more lives as you have ruined mine. You will wring no - more hearts as you wrung mine. I will free the world of a poisonous thing. - Take that, you hound—and that!—and that!—and that!” - </p> - <p> - She had drawn a little gleaming revolver, and emptied barrel after barrel - into Milverton’s body, the muzzle within two feet of his shirt front. He - shrank away and then fell forward upon the table, coughing furiously and - clawing among the papers. Then he staggered to his feet, received another - shot, and rolled upon the floor. “You’ve done me,” he cried, and lay - still. The woman looked at him intently, and ground her heel into his - upturned face. She looked again, but there was no sound or movement. I - heard a sharp rustle, the night air blew into the heated room, and the - avenger was gone. - </p> - <p> - No interference upon our part could have saved the man from his fate, but, - as the woman poured bullet after bullet into Milverton’s shrinking body I - was about to spring out, when I felt Holmes’s cold, strong grasp upon my - wrist. I understood the whole argument of that firm, restraining grip—that - it was no affair of ours, that justice had overtaken a villain, that we - had our own duties and our own objects, which were not to be lost sight - of. But hardly had the woman rushed from the room when Holmes, with swift, - silent steps, was over at the other door. He turned the key in the lock. - At the same instant we heard voices in the house and the sound of hurrying - feet. The revolver shots had roused the household. With perfect coolness - Holmes slipped across to the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of - letters, and poured them all into the fire. Again and again he did it, - until the safe was empty. Someone turned the handle and beat upon the - outside of the door. Holmes looked swiftly round. The letter which had - been the messenger of death for Milverton lay, all mottled with his blood, - upon the table. Holmes tossed it in among the blazing papers. Then he drew - the key from the outer door, passed through after me, and locked it on the - outside. “This way, Watson,” said he, “we can scale the garden wall in - this direction.” - </p> - <p> - I could not have believed that an alarm could have spread so swiftly. - Looking back, the huge house was one blaze of light. The front door was - open, and figures were rushing down the drive. The whole garden was alive - with people, and one fellow raised a view-halloa as we emerged from the - veranda and followed hard at our heels. Holmes seemed to know the grounds - perfectly, and he threaded his way swiftly among a plantation of small - trees, I close at his heels, and our foremost pursuer panting behind us. - It was a six-foot wall which barred our path, but he sprang to the top and - over. As I did the same I felt the hand of the man behind me grab at my - ankle, but I kicked myself free and scrambled over a grass-strewn coping. - I fell upon my face among some bushes, but Holmes had me on my feet in an - instant, and together we dashed away across the huge expanse of Hampstead - Heath. We had run two miles, I suppose, before Holmes at last halted and - listened intently. All was absolute silence behind us. We had shaken off - our pursuers and were safe. - </p> - <p class="p2"> - We had breakfasted and were smoking our morning pipe on the day after the - remarkable experience which I have recorded, when Mr. Lestrade, of - Scotland Yard, very solemn and impressive, was ushered into our modest - sitting-room. - </p> - <p> - “Good-morning, Mr. Holmes,” said he; “good-morning. May I ask if you are - very busy just now?” - </p> - <p> - “Not too busy to listen to you.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought that, perhaps, if you had nothing particular on hand, you might - care to assist us in a most remarkable case, which occurred only last - night at Hampstead.” - </p> - <p> - “Dear me!” said Holmes. “What was that?” - </p> - <p> - “A murder—a most dramatic and remarkable murder. I know how keen you - are upon these things, and I would take it as a great favour if you would - step down to Appledore Towers, and give us the benefit of your advice. It - is no ordinary crime. We have had our eyes upon this Mr. Milverton for - some time, and, between ourselves, he was a bit of a villain. He is known - to have held papers which he used for blackmailing purposes. These papers - have all been burned by the murderers. No article of value was taken, as - it is probable that the criminals were men of good position, whose sole - object was to prevent social exposure.” - </p> - <p> - “Criminals?” said Holmes. “Plural?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there were two of them. They were as nearly as possible captured - red-handed. We have their footmarks, we have their description, it’s ten - to one that we trace them. The first fellow was a bit too active, but the - second was caught by the under-gardener, and only got away after a - struggle. He was a middle-sized, strongly built man—square jaw, - thick neck, moustache, a mask over his eyes.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s rather vague,” said Sherlock Holmes. “My, it might be a - description of Watson!” - </p> - <p> - “It’s true,” said the inspector, with amusement. “It might be a - description of Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you, Lestrade,” said Holmes. “The fact is - that I knew this fellow Milverton, that I considered him one of the most - dangerous men in London, and that I think there are certain crimes which - the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private - revenge. No, it’s no use arguing. I have made up my mind. My sympathies - are with the criminals rather than with the victim, and I will not handle - this case.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedy which we had - witnessed, but I observed all the morning that he was in his most - thoughtful mood, and he gave me the impression, from his vacant eyes and - his abstracted manner, of a man who is striving to recall something to his - memory. We were in the middle of our lunch, when he suddenly sprang to his - feet. “By Jove, Watson, I’ve got it!” he cried. “Take your hat! Come with - me!” He hurried at his top speed down Baker Street and along Oxford - Street, until we had almost reached Regent Circus. Here, on the left hand, - there stands a shop window filled with photographs of the celebrities and - beauties of the day. Holmes’s eyes fixed themselves upon one of them, and - following his gaze I saw the picture of a regal and stately lady in Court - dress, with a high diamond tiara upon her noble head. I looked at that - delicately curved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight mouth, and - the strong little chin beneath it. Then I caught my breath as I read the - time-honoured title of the great nobleman and statesman whose wife she had - been. My eyes met those of Holmes, and he put his finger to his lips as we - turned away from the window. - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap08"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIX NAPOLEONS</h2> - - <p> - It was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, to look - in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to Sherlock Holmes, - for they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going on at the - police headquarters. In return for the news which Lestrade would bring, - Holmes was always ready to listen with attention to the details of any - case upon which the detective was engaged, and was able occasionally, - without any active interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn - from his own vast knowledge and experience. - </p> - <p> - On this particular evening, Lestrade had spoken of the weather and the - newspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffing thoughtfully at his cigar. - Holmes looked keenly at him. - </p> - <p> - “Anything remarkable on hand?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, Mr. Holmes—nothing very particular.” - </p> - <p> - “Then tell me about it.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade laughed. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that there <i>is</i> something on my - mind. And yet it is such an absurd business, that I hesitated to bother - you about it. On the other hand, although it is trivial, it is undoubtedly - queer, and I know that you have a taste for all that is out of the common. - But, in my opinion, it comes more in Dr. Watson’s line than ours.” - </p> - <p> - “Disease?” said I. - </p> - <p> - “Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness, too. You wouldn’t think there was - anyone living at this time of day who had such a hatred of Napoleon the - First that he would break any image of him that he could see.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes sank back in his chair. - </p> - <p> - “That’s no business of mine,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. That’s what I said. But then, when the man commits burglary in - order to break images which are not his own, that brings it away from the - doctor and on to the policeman.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes sat up again. - </p> - <p> - “Burglary! This is more interesting. Let me hear the details.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade took out his official notebook and refreshed his memory from its - pages. - </p> - <p> - “The first case reported was four days ago,” said he. “It was at the shop - of Morse Hudson, who has a place for the sale of pictures and statues in - the Kennington Road. The assistant had left the front shop for an instant, - when he heard a crash, and hurrying in he found a plaster bust of - Napoleon, which stood with several other works of art upon the counter, - lying shivered into fragments. He rushed out into the road, but, although - several passers-by declared that they had noticed a man run out of the - shop, he could neither see anyone nor could he find any means of - identifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of those senseless acts of - hooliganism which occur from time to time, and it was reported to the - constable on the beat as such. The plaster cast was not worth more than a - few shillings, and the whole affair appeared to be too childish for any - particular investigation. - </p> - <p> - “The second case, however, was more serious, and also more singular. It - occurred only last night. - </p> - <p> - “In Kennington Road, and within a few hundred yards of Morse Hudson’s - shop, there lives a well-known medical practitioner, named Dr. Barnicot, - who has one of the largest practices upon the south side of the Thames. - His residence and principal consulting-room is at Kennington Road, but he - has a branch surgery and dispensary at Lower Brixton Road, two miles away. - This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and his house is - full of books, pictures, and relics of the French Emperor. Some little - time ago he purchased from Morse Hudson two duplicate plaster casts of the - famous head of Napoleon by the French sculptor, Devine. One of these he - placed in his hall in the house at Kennington Road, and the other on the - mantelpiece of the surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr. Barnicot came - down this morning he was astonished to find that his house had been - burgled during the night, but that nothing had been taken save the plaster - head from the hall. It had been carried out and had been dashed savagely - against the garden wall, under which its splintered fragments were - discovered.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes rubbed his hands. - </p> - <p> - “This is certainly very novel,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “I thought it would please you. But I have not got to the end yet. Dr. - Barnicot was due at his surgery at twelve o’clock, and you can imagine his - amazement when, on arriving there, he found that the window had been - opened in the night and that the broken pieces of his second bust were - strewn all over the room. It had been smashed to atoms where it stood. In - neither case were there any signs which could give us a clue as to the - criminal or lunatic who had done the mischief. Now, Mr. Holmes, you have - got the facts.” - </p> - <p> - “They are singular, not to say grotesque,” said Holmes. “May I ask whether - the two busts smashed in Dr. Barnicot’s rooms were the exact duplicates of - the one which was destroyed in Morse Hudson’s shop?” - </p> - <p> - “They were taken from the same mould.” - </p> - <p> - “Such a fact must tell against the theory that the man who breaks them is - influenced by any general hatred of Napoleon. Considering how many - hundreds of statues of the great Emperor must exist in London, it is too - much to suppose such a coincidence as that a promiscuous iconoclast should - chance to begin upon three specimens of the same bust.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I thought as you do,” said Lestrade. “On the other hand, this Morse - Hudson is the purveyor of busts in that part of London, and these three - were the only ones which had been in his shop for years. So, although, as - you say, there are many hundreds of statues in London, it is very probable - that these three were the only ones in that district. Therefore, a local - fanatic would begin with them. What do you think, Dr. Watson?” - </p> - <p> - “There are no limits to the possibilities of monomania,” I answered. - “There is the condition which the modern French psychologists have called - the <i>idée fixe</i>, which may be trifling in character, and accompanied by - complete sanity in every other way. A man who had read deeply about - Napoleon, or who had possibly received some hereditary family injury - through the great war, might conceivably form such an <i>idée fixe</i> and under - its influence be capable of any fantastic outrage.” - </p> - <p> - “That won’t do, my dear Watson,” said Holmes, shaking his head, “for no - amount of <i>idée fixe</i> would enable your interesting monomaniac to find out - where these busts were situated.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, how do <i>you</i> explain it?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t attempt to do so. I would only observe that there is a certain - method in the gentleman’s eccentric proceedings. For example, in Dr. - Barnicot’s hall, where a sound might arouse the family, the bust was taken - outside before being broken, whereas in the surgery, where there was less - danger of an alarm, it was smashed where it stood. The affair seems - absurdly trifling, and yet I dare call nothing trivial when I reflect that - some of my most classic cases have had the least promising commencement. - You will remember, Watson, how the dreadful business of the Abernetty - family was first brought to my notice by the depth which the parsley had - sunk into the butter upon a hot day. I can’t afford, therefore, to smile - at your three broken busts, Lestrade, and I shall be very much obliged to - you if you will let me hear of any fresh development of so singular a - chain of events.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - The development for which my friend had asked came in a quicker and an - infinitely more tragic form than he could have imagined. I was still - dressing in my bedroom next morning, when there was a tap at the door and - Holmes entered, a telegram in his hand. He read it aloud: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - “Come instantly, 131, Pitt Street, Kensington.—LESTRADE.” - </p> - <p> - “What is it, then?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t know—may be anything. But I suspect it is the sequel of the - story of the statues. In that case our friend the image-breaker has begun - operations in another quarter of London. There’s coffee on the table, - Watson, and I have a cab at the door.” - </p> - <p> - In half an hour we had reached Pitt Street, a quiet little backwater just - beside one of the briskest currents of London life. No. 131 was one of a - row, all flat-chested, respectable, and most unromantic dwellings. As we - drove up, we found the railings in front of the house lined by a curious - crowd. Holmes whistled. - </p> - <p> - “By George! It’s attempted murder at the least. Nothing less will hold the - London message-boy. There’s a deed of violence indicated in that fellow’s - round shoulders and outstretched neck. What’s this, Watson? The top steps - swilled down and the other ones dry. Footsteps enough, anyhow! Well, well, - there’s Lestrade at the front window, and we shall soon know all about - it.” - </p> - <p> - The official received us with a very grave face and showed us into a - sitting-room, where an exceedingly unkempt and agitated elderly man, clad - in a flannel dressing-gown, was pacing up and down. He was introduced to - us as the owner of the house—Mr. Horace Harker, of the Central Press - Syndicate. - </p> - <p> - “It’s the Napoleon bust business again,” said Lestrade. “You seemed - interested last night, Mr. Holmes, so I thought perhaps you would be glad - to be present now that the affair has taken a very much graver turn.” - </p> - <p> - “What has it turned to, then?” - </p> - <p> - “To murder. Mr. Harker, will you tell these gentlemen exactly what has - occurred?” - </p> - <p> - The man in the dressing-gown turned upon us with a most melancholy face. - </p> - <p> - “It’s an extraordinary thing,” said he, “that all my life I have been - collecting other people’s news, and now that a real piece of news has come - my own way I am so confused and bothered that I can’t put two words - together. If I had come in here as a journalist, I should have interviewed - myself and had two columns in every evening paper. As it is, I am giving - away valuable copy by telling my story over and over to a string of - different people, and I can make no use of it myself. However, I’ve heard - your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and if you’ll only explain this queer - business, I shall be paid for my trouble in telling you the story.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes sat down and listened. - </p> - <p> - “It all seems to centre round that bust of Napoleon which I bought for - this very room about four months ago. I picked it up cheap from Harding - Brothers, two doors from the High Street Station. A great deal of my - journalistic work is done at night, and I often write until the early - morning. So it was to-day. I was sitting in my den, which is at the back - of the top of the house, about three o’clock, when I was convinced that I - heard some sounds downstairs. I listened, but they were not repeated, and - I concluded that they came from outside. Then suddenly, about five minutes - later, there came a most horrible yell—the most dreadful sound, Mr. - Holmes, that ever I heard. It will ring in my ears as long as I live. I - sat frozen with horror for a minute or two. Then I seized the poker and - went downstairs. When I entered this room I found the window wide open, - and I at once observed that the bust was gone from the mantelpiece. Why - any burglar should take such a thing passes my understanding, for it was - only a plaster cast and of no real value whatever. - </p> - <p> - “You can see for yourself that anyone going out through that open window - could reach the front doorstep by taking a long stride. This was clearly - what the burglar had done, so I went round and opened the door. Stepping - out into the dark, I nearly fell over a dead man, who was lying there. I - ran back for a light and there was the poor fellow, a great gash in his - throat and the whole place swimming in blood. He lay on his back, his - knees drawn up, and his mouth horribly open. I shall see him in my dreams. - I had just time to blow on my police-whistle, and then I must have - fainted, for I knew nothing more until I found the policeman standing over - me in the hall.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, who was the murdered man?” asked Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “There’s nothing to show who he was,” said Lestrade. “You shall see the - body at the mortuary, but we have made nothing of it up to now. He is a - tall man, sunburned, very powerful, not more than thirty. He is poorly - dressed, and yet does not appear to be a labourer. A horn-handled clasp - knife was lying in a pool of blood beside him. Whether it was the weapon - which did the deed, or whether it belonged to the dead man, I do not know. - There was no name on his clothing, and nothing in his pockets save an - apple, some string, a shilling map of London, and a photograph. Here it - is.” - </p> - <p> - It was evidently taken by a snapshot from a small camera. It represented - an alert, sharp-featured simian man, with thick eyebrows and a very - peculiar projection of the lower part of the face, like the muzzle of a - baboon. - </p> - <p> - “And what became of the bust?” asked Holmes, after a careful study of this - picture. - </p> - <p> - “We had news of it just before you came. It has been found in the front - garden of an empty house in Campden House Road. It was broken into - fragments. I am going round now to see it. Will you come?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly. I must just take one look round.” He examined the carpet and - the window. “The fellow had either very long legs or was a most active - man,” said he. “With an area beneath, it was no mean feat to reach that - window ledge and open that window. Getting back was comparatively simple. - Are you coming with us to see the remains of your bust, Mr. Harker?” - </p> - <p> - The disconsolate journalist had seated himself at a writing-table. - </p> - <p> - “I must try and make something of it,” said he, “though I have no doubt - that the first editions of the evening papers are out already with full - details. It’s like my luck! You remember when the stand fell at Doncaster? - Well, I was the only journalist in the stand, and my journal the only one - that had no account of it, for I was too shaken to write it. And now I’ll - be too late with a murder done on my own doorstep.” - </p> - <p> - As we left the room, we heard his pen travelling shrilly over the - foolscap. - </p> - <p> - The spot where the fragments of the bust had been found was only a few - hundred yards away. For the first time our eyes rested upon this - presentment of the great emperor, which seemed to raise such frantic and - destructive hatred in the mind of the unknown. It lay scattered, in - splintered shards, upon the grass. Holmes picked up several of them and - examined them carefully. I was convinced, from his intent face and his - purposeful manner, that at last he was upon a clue. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” asked Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - Holmes shrugged his shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “We have a long way to go yet,” said he. “And yet—and yet—well, - we have some suggestive facts to act upon. The possession of this trifling - bust was worth more, in the eyes of this strange criminal, than a human - life. That is one point. Then there is the singular fact that he did not - break it in the house, or immediately outside the house, if to break it - was his sole object.” - </p> - <p> - “He was rattled and bustled by meeting this other fellow. He hardly knew - what he was doing.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s likely enough. But I wish to call your attention very - particularly to the position of this house, in the garden of which the - bust was destroyed.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade looked about him. - </p> - <p> - “It was an empty house, and so he knew that he would not be disturbed in - the garden.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but there is another empty house farther up the street which he must - have passed before he came to this one. Why did he not break it there, - since it is evident that every yard that he carried it increased the risk - of someone meeting him?” - </p> - <p> - “I give it up,” said Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - Holmes pointed to the street lamp above our heads. - </p> - <p> - “He could see what he was doing here, and he could not there. That was his - reason.” - </p> - <p> - “By Jove! that’s true,” said the detective. “Now that I come to think of - it, Dr. Barnicot’s bust was broken not far from his red lamp. Well, Mr. - Holmes, what are we to do with that fact?” - </p> - <p> - “To remember it—to docket it. We may come on something later which - will bear upon it. What steps do you propose to take now, Lestrade?” - </p> - <p> - “The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is to identify - the dead man. There should be no difficulty about that. When we have found - who he is and who his associates are, we should have a good start in - learning what he was doing in Pitt Street last night, and who it was who - met him and killed him on the doorstep of Mr. Horace Harker. Don’t you - think so?” - </p> - <p> - “No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I should approach the - case.” - </p> - <p> - “What would you do then?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you must not let me influence you in any way. I suggest that you go - on your line and I on mine. We can compare notes afterwards, and each will - supplement the other.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good,” said Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - “If you are going back to Pitt Street, you might see Mr. Horace Harker. - Tell him for me that I have quite made up my mind, and that it is certain - that a dangerous homicidal lunatic, with Napoleonic delusions, was in his - house last night. It will be useful for his article.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade stared. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t seriously believe that?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smiled. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t I? Well, perhaps I don’t. But I am sure that it will interest Mr. - Horace Harker and the subscribers of the Central Press Syndicate. Now, - Watson, I think that we shall find that we have a long and rather complex - day’s work before us. I should be glad, Lestrade, if you could make it - convenient to meet us at Baker Street at six o’clock this evening. Until - then I should like to keep this photograph, found in the dead man’s - pocket. It is possible that I may have to ask your company and assistance - upon a small expedition which will have be undertaken to-night, if my - chain of reasoning should prove to be correct. Until then good-bye and - good luck!” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the High Street, where we stopped - at the shop of Harding Brothers, whence the bust had been purchased. A - young assistant informed us that Mr. Harding would be absent until - afternoon, and that he was himself a newcomer, who could give us no - information. Holmes’s face showed his disappointment and annoyance. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, we can’t expect to have it all our own way, Watson,” he said, - at last. “We must come back in the afternoon, if Mr. Harding will not be - here until then. I am, as you have no doubt surmised, endeavouring to - trace these busts to their source, in order to find if there is not - something peculiar which may account for their remarkable fate. Let us - make for Mr. Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if he can throw - any light upon the problem.” - </p> - <p> - A drive of an hour brought us to the picture-dealer’s establishment. He - was a small, stout man with a red face and a peppery manner. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. On my very counter, sir,” said he. “What we pay rates and taxes - for I don’t know, when any ruffian can come in and break one’s goods. Yes, - sir, it was I who sold Dr. Barnicot his two statues. Disgraceful, sir! A - Nihilist plot—that’s what I make it. No one but an anarchist would - go about breaking statues. Red republicans—that’s what I call ’em. - Who did I get the statues from? I don’t see what that has to do with it. - Well, if you really want to know, I got them from Gelder & Co., in - Church Street, Stepney. They are a well-known house in the trade, and have - been this twenty years. How many had I? Three—two and one are three—two - of Dr. Barnicot’s, and one smashed in broad daylight on my own counter. Do - I know that photograph? No, I don’t. Yes, I do, though. Why, it’s Beppo. - He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, who made himself useful in the - shop. He could carve a bit, and gild and frame, and do odd jobs. The - fellow left me last week, and I’ve heard nothing of him since. No, I don’t - know where he came from nor where he went to. I had nothing against him - while he was here. He was gone two days before the bust was smashed.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s all we could reasonably expect from Morse Hudson,” said - Holmes, as we emerged from the shop. “We have this Beppo as a common - factor, both in Kennington and in Kensington, so that is worth a ten-mile - drive. Now, Watson, let us make for Gelder & Co., of Stepney, the - source and origin of the busts. I shall be surprised if we don’t get some - help down there.” - </p> - <p> - In rapid succession we passed through the fringe of fashionable London, - hotel London, theatrical London, literary London, commercial London, and, - finally, maritime London, till we came to a riverside city of a hundred - thousand souls, where the tenement houses swelter and reek with the - outcasts of Europe. Here, in a broad thoroughfare, once the abode of - wealthy City merchants, we found the sculpture works for which we - searched. Outside was a considerable yard full of monumental masonry. - Inside was a large room in which fifty workers were carving or moulding. - The manager, a big blond German, received us civilly and gave a clear - answer to all Holmes’s questions. A reference to his books showed that - hundreds of casts had been taken from a marble copy of Devine’s head of - Napoleon, but that the three which had been sent to Morse Hudson a year or - so before had been half of a batch of six, the other three being sent to - Harding Brothers, of Kensington. There was no reason why those six should - be different from any of the other casts. He could suggest no possible - cause why anyone should wish to destroy them—in fact, he laughed at - the idea. Their wholesale price was six shillings, but the retailer would - get twelve or more. The cast was taken in two moulds from each side of the - face, and then these two profiles of plaster of Paris were joined together - to make the complete bust. The work was usually done by Italians, in the - room we were in. When finished, the busts were put on a table in the - passage to dry, and afterwards stored. That was all he could tell us. - </p> - <p> - But the production of the photograph had a remarkable effect upon the - manager. His face flushed with anger, and his brows knotted over his blue - Teutonic eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Ah, the rascal!” he cried. “Yes, indeed, I know him very well. This has - always been a respectable establishment, and the only time that we have - ever had the police in it was over this very fellow. It was more than a - year ago now. He knifed another Italian in the street, and then he came to - the works with the police on his heels, and he was taken here. Beppo was - his name—his second name I never knew. Serve me right for engaging a - man with such a face. But he was a good workman—one of the best.” - </p> - <p> - “What did he get?” - </p> - <p> - “The man lived and he got off with a year. I have no doubt he is out now, - but he has not dared to show his nose here. We have a cousin of his here, - and I daresay he could tell you where he is.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no,” cried Holmes, “not a word to the cousin—not a word, I beg - of you. The matter is very important, and the farther I go with it, the - more important it seems to grow. When you referred in your ledger to the - sale of those casts I observed that the date was June 3rd of last year. - Could you give me the date when Beppo was arrested?” - </p> - <p> - “I could tell you roughly by the pay-list,” the manager answered. “Yes,” - he continued, after some turning over of pages, “he was paid last on May - 20th.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” said Holmes. “I don’t think that I need intrude upon your - time and patience any more.” With a last word of caution that he should - say nothing as to our researches, we turned our faces westward once more. - </p> - <p> - The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch a hasty - luncheon at a restaurant. A news-bill at the entrance announced - “Kensington Outrage. Murder by a Madman,” and the contents of the paper - showed that Mr. Horace Harker had got his account into print after all. - Two columns were occupied with a highly sensational and flowery rendering - of the whole incident. Holmes propped it against the cruet-stand and read - it while he ate. Once or twice he chuckled. - </p> - <p> - “This is all right, Watson,” said he. “Listen to this: - </p> - <p> - “It is satisfactory to know that there can be no difference of opinion - upon this case, since Mr. Lestrade, one of the most experienced members of - the official force, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the well-known consulting - expert, have each come to the conclusion that the grotesque series of - incidents, which have ended in so tragic a fashion, arise from lunacy - rather than from deliberate crime. No explanation save mental aberration - can cover the facts. - </p> - <p> - “The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution, if you only know how - to use it. And now, if you have quite finished, we will hark back to - Kensington and see what the manager of Harding Brothers has to say on the - matter.” - </p> - <p> - The founder of that great emporium proved to be a brisk, crisp little - person, very dapper and quick, with a clear head and a ready tongue. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I have already read the account in the evening papers. Mr. - Horace Harker is a customer of ours. We supplied him with the bust some - months ago. We ordered three busts of that sort from Gelder & Co., of - Stepney. They are all sold now. To whom? Oh, I daresay by consulting our - sales book we could very easily tell you. Yes, we have the entries here. - One to Mr. Harker you see, and one to Mr. Josiah Brown, of Laburnum Lodge, - Laburnum Vale, Chiswick, and one to Mr. Sandeford, of Lower Grove Road, - Reading. No, I have never seen this face which you show me in the - photograph. You would hardly forget it, would you, sir, for I’ve seldom - seen an uglier. Have we any Italians on the staff? Yes, sir, we have - several among our workpeople and cleaners. I daresay they might get a peep - at that sales book if they wanted to. There is no particular reason for - keeping a watch upon that book. Well, well, it’s a very strange business, - and I hope that you will let me know if anything comes of your inquiries.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes had taken several notes during Mr. Harding’s evidence, and I could - see that he was thoroughly satisfied by the turn which affairs were - taking. He made no remark, however, save that, unless we hurried, we - should be late for our appointment with Lestrade. Sure enough, when we - reached Baker Street the detective was already there, and we found him - pacing up and down in a fever of impatience. His look of importance showed - that his day’s work had not been in vain. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” he asked. “What luck, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “We have had a very busy day, and not entirely a wasted one,” my friend - explained. “We have seen both the retailers and also the wholesale - manufacturers. I can trace each of the busts now from the beginning.” - </p> - <p> - “The busts,” cried Lestrade. “Well, well, you have your own methods, Mr. - Sherlock Holmes, and it is not for me to say a word against them, but I - think I have done a better day’s work than you. I have identified the dead - man.” - </p> - <p> - “You don’t say so?” - </p> - <p> - “And found a cause for the crime.” - </p> - <p> - “Splendid!” - </p> - <p> - “We have an inspector who makes a specialty of Saffron Hill and the - Italian Quarter. Well, this dead man had some Catholic emblem round his - neck, and that, along with his colour, made me think he was from the - South. Inspector Hill knew him the moment he caught sight of him. His name - is Pietro Venucci, from Naples, and he is one of the greatest cut-throats - in London. He is connected with the Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret - political society, enforcing its decrees by murder. Now, you see how the - affair begins to clear up. The other fellow is probably an Italian also, - and a member of the Mafia. He has broken the rules in some fashion. Pietro - is set upon his track. Probably the photograph we found in his pocket is - the man himself, so that he may not knife the wrong person. He dogs the - fellow, he sees him enter a house, he waits outside for him, and in the - scuffle he receives his own death-wound. How is that, Mr. Sherlock - Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes clapped his hands approvingly. - </p> - <p> - “Excellent, Lestrade, excellent!” he cried. “But I didn’t quite follow - your explanation of the destruction of the busts.” - </p> - <p> - “The busts! You never can get those busts out of your head. After all, - that is nothing; petty larceny, six months at the most. It is the murder - that we are really investigating, and I tell you that I am gathering all - the threads into my hands.” - </p> - <p> - “And the next stage?” - </p> - <p> - “Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the Italian Quarter, - find the man whose photograph we have got, and arrest him on the charge of - murder. Will you come with us?” - </p> - <p> - “I think not. I fancy we can attain our end in a simpler way. I can’t say - for certain, because it all depends—well, it all depends upon a - factor which is completely outside our control. But I have great hopes—in - fact, the betting is exactly two to one—that if you will come with - us to-night I shall be able to help you to lay him by the heels.” - </p> - <p> - “In the Italian Quarter?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I fancy Chiswick is an address which is more likely to find him. If - you will come with me to Chiswick to-night, Lestrade, I’ll promise to go - to the Italian Quarter with you to-morrow, and no harm will be done by the - delay. And now I think that a few hours’ sleep would do us all good, for I - do not propose to leave before eleven o’clock, and it is unlikely that we - shall be back before morning. You’ll dine with us, Lestrade, and then you - are welcome to the sofa until it is time for us to start. In the meantime, - Watson, I should be glad if you would ring for an express messenger, for I - have a letter to send and it is important that it should go at once.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes spent the evening in rummaging among the files of the old daily - papers with which one of our lumber-rooms was packed. When at last he - descended, it was with triumph in his eyes, but he said nothing to either - of us as to the result of his researches. For my own part, I had followed - step by step the methods by which he had traced the various windings of - this complex case, and, though I could not yet perceive the goal which we - would reach, I understood clearly that Holmes expected this grotesque - criminal to make an attempt upon the two remaining busts, one of which, I - remembered, was at Chiswick. No doubt the object of our journey was to - catch him in the very act, and I could not but admire the cunning with - which my friend had inserted a wrong clue in the evening paper, so as to - give the fellow the idea that he could continue his scheme with impunity. - I was not surprised when Holmes suggested that I should take my revolver - with me. He had himself picked up the loaded hunting-crop, which was his - favourite weapon. - </p> - <p> - A four-wheeler was at the door at eleven, and in it we drove to a spot at - the other side of Hammersmith Bridge. Here the cabman was directed to - wait. A short walk brought us to a secluded road fringed with pleasant - houses, each standing in its own grounds. In the light of a street lamp we - read “Laburnum Villa” upon the gate-post of one of them. The occupants had - evidently retired to rest, for all was dark save for a fanlight over the - hall door, which shed a single blurred circle on to the garden path. The - wooden fence which separated the grounds from the road threw a dense black - shadow upon the inner side, and here it was that we crouched. - </p> - <p> - “I fear that you’ll have a long wait,” Holmes whispered. “We may thank our - stars that it is not raining. I don’t think we can even venture to smoke - to pass the time. However, it’s a two to one chance that we get something - to pay us for our trouble.” - </p> - <p> - It proved, however, that our vigil was not to be so long as Holmes had led - us to fear, and it ended in a very sudden and singular fashion. In an - instant, without the least sound to warn us of his coming, the garden gate - swung open, and a lithe, dark figure, as swift and active as an ape, - rushed up the garden path. We saw it whisk past the light thrown from over - the door and disappear against the black shadow of the house. There was a - long pause, during which we held our breath, and then a very gentle - creaking sound came to our ears. The window was being opened. The noise - ceased, and again there was a long silence. The fellow was making his way - into the house. We saw the sudden flash of a dark lantern inside the room. - What he sought was evidently not there, for again we saw the flash through - another blind, and then through another. - </p> - <p> - “Let us get to the open window. We will nab him as he climbs out,” - Lestrade whispered. - </p> - <p> - But before we could move, the man had emerged again. As he came out into - the glimmering patch of light, we saw that he carried something white - under his arm. He looked stealthily all round him. The silence of the - deserted street reassured him. Turning his back upon us he laid down his - burden, and the next instant there was the sound of a sharp tap, followed - by a clatter and rattle. The man was so intent upon what he was doing that - he never heard our steps as we stole across the grass plot. With the bound - of a tiger Holmes was on his back, and an instant later Lestrade and I had - him by either wrist, and the handcuffs had been fastened. As we turned him - over I saw a hideous, sallow face, with writhing, furious features, - glaring up at us, and I knew that it was indeed the man of the photograph - whom we had secured. - </p> - <p> - But it was not our prisoner to whom Holmes was giving his attention. - Squatted on the doorstep, he was engaged in most carefully examining that - which the man had brought from the house. It was a bust of Napoleon, like - the one which we had seen that morning, and it had been broken into - similar fragments. Carefully Holmes held each separate shard to the light, - but in no way did it differ from any other shattered piece of plaster. He - had just completed his examination when the hall lights flew up, the door - opened, and the owner of the house, a jovial, rotund figure in shirt and - trousers, presented himself. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Josiah Brown, I suppose?” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir; and you, no doubt, are Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I had the note - which you sent by the express messenger, and I did exactly what you told - me. We locked every door on the inside and awaited developments. Well, I’m - very glad to see that you have got the rascal. I hope, gentlemen, that you - will come in and have some refreshment.” - </p> - <p> - However, Lestrade was anxious to get his man into safe quarters, so within - a few minutes our cab had been summoned and we were all four upon our way - to London. Not a word would our captive say, but he glared at us from the - shadow of his matted hair, and once, when my hand seemed within his reach, - he snapped at it like a hungry wolf. We stayed long enough at the - police-station to learn that a search of his clothing revealed nothing - save a few shillings and a long sheath knife, the handle of which bore - copious traces of recent blood. - </p> - <p> - “That’s all right,” said Lestrade, as we parted. “Hill knows all these - gentry, and he will give a name to him. You’ll find that my theory of the - Mafia will work out all right. But I’m sure I am exceedingly obliged to - you, Mr. Holmes, for the workmanlike way in which you laid hands upon him. - I don’t quite understand it all yet.” - </p> - <p> - “I fear it is rather too late an hour for explanations,” said Holmes. - “Besides, there are one or two details which are not finished off, and it - is one of those cases which are worth working out to the very end. If you - will come round once more to my rooms at six o’clock to-morrow, I think I - shall be able to show you that even now you have not grasped the entire - meaning of this business, which presents some features which make it - absolutely original in the history of crime. If ever I permit you to - chronicle any more of my little problems, Watson, I foresee that you will - enliven your pages by an account of the singular adventure of the - Napoleonic busts.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - When we met again next evening, Lestrade was furnished with much - information concerning our prisoner. His name, it appeared, was Beppo, - second name unknown. He was a well-known ne’er-do-well among the Italian - colony. He had once been a skilful sculptor and had earned an honest - living, but he had taken to evil courses and had twice already been in - jail—once for a petty theft, and once, as we had already heard, for - stabbing a fellow-countryman. He could talk English perfectly well. His - reasons for destroying the busts were still unknown, and he refused to - answer any questions upon the subject, but the police had discovered that - these same busts might very well have been made by his own hands, since he - was engaged in this class of work at the establishment of Gelder & Co. - To all this information, much of which we already knew, Holmes listened - with polite attention, but I, who knew him so well, could clearly see that - his thoughts were elsewhere, and I detected a mixture of mingled - uneasiness and expectation beneath that mask which he was wont to assume. - At last he started in his chair, and his eyes brightened. There had been a - ring at the bell. A minute later we heard steps upon the stairs, and an - elderly red-faced man with grizzled side-whiskers was ushered in. In his - right hand he carried an old-fashioned carpet-bag, which he placed upon - the table. - </p> - <p> - “Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here?” - </p> - <p> - My friend bowed and smiled. “Mr. Sandeford, of Reading, I suppose?” said - he. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I fear that I am a little late, but the trains were awkward. - You wrote to me about a bust that is in my possession.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “I have your letter here. You said, ‘I desire to possess a copy of - Devine’s Napoleon, and am prepared to pay you ten pounds for the one which - is in your possession.’ Is that right?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “I was very much surprised at your letter, for I could not imagine how you - knew that I owned such a thing.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course you must have been surprised, but the explanation is very - simple. Mr. Harding, of Harding Brothers, said that they had sold you - their last copy, and he gave me your address.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that was it, was it? Did he tell you what I paid for it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he did not.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I am an honest man, though not a very rich one. I only gave fifteen - shillings for the bust, and I think you ought to know that before I take - ten pounds from you. - </p> - <p> - “I am sure the scruple does you honour, Mr. Sandeford. But I have named - that price, so I intend to stick to it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. I brought the bust up with - me, as you asked me to do. Here it is!” He opened his bag, and at last we - saw placed upon our table a complete specimen of that bust which we had - already seen more than once in fragments. - </p> - <p> - Holmes took a paper from his pocket and laid a ten-pound note upon the - table. - </p> - <p> - “You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, in the presence of these - witnesses. It is simply to say that you transfer every possible right that - you ever had in the bust to me. I am a methodical man, you see, and you - never know what turn events might take afterwards. Thank you, Mr. - Sandeford; here is your money, and I wish you a very good evening.” - </p> - <p> - When our visitor had disappeared, Sherlock Holmes’s movements were such as - to rivet our attention. He began by taking a clean white cloth from a - drawer and laying it over the table. Then he placed his newly acquired - bust in the centre of the cloth. Finally, he picked up his hunting-crop - and struck Napoleon a sharp blow on the top of the head. The figure broke - into fragments, and Holmes bent eagerly over the shattered remains. Next - instant, with a loud shout of triumph he held up one splinter, in which a - round, dark object was fixed like a plum in a pudding. - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen,” he cried, “let me introduce you to the famous black pearl of - the Borgias.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade and I sat silent for a moment, and then, with a spontaneous - impulse, we both broke at clapping, as at the well-wrought crisis of a - play. A flush of colour sprang to Holmes’s pale cheeks, and he bowed to us - like the master dramatist who receives the homage of his audience. It was - at such moments that for an instant he ceased to be a reasoning machine, - and betrayed his human love for admiration and applause. The same - singularly proud and reserved nature which turned away with disdain from - popular notoriety was capable of being moved to its depths by spontaneous - wonder and praise from a friend. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, gentlemen,” said he, “it is the most famous pearl now existing in - the world, and it has been my good fortune, by a connected chain of - inductive reasoning, to trace it from the Prince of Colonna’s bedroom at - the Dacre Hotel, where it was lost, to the interior of this, the last of - the six busts of Napoleon which were manufactured by Gelder & Co., of - Stepney. You will remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused by the - disappearance of this valuable jewel and the vain efforts of the London - police to recover it. I was myself consulted upon the case, but I was - unable to throw any light upon it. Suspicion fell upon the maid of the - Princess, who was an Italian, and it was proved that she had a brother in - London, but we failed to trace any connection between them. The maid’s - name was Lucretia Venucci, and there is no doubt in my mind that this - Pietro who was murdered two nights ago was the brother. I have been - looking up the dates in the old files of the paper, and I find that the - disappearance of the pearl was exactly two days before the arrest of - Beppo, for some crime of violence—an event which took place in the - factory of Gelder & Co., at the very moment when these busts were - being made. Now you clearly see the sequence of events, though you see - them, of course, in the inverse order to the way in which they presented - themselves to me. Beppo had the pearl in his possession. He may have - stolen it from Pietro, he may have been Pietro’s confederate, he may have - been the go-between of Pietro and his sister. It is of no consequence to - us which is the correct solution. - </p> - <p> - “The main fact is that he <i>had</i> the pearl, and at that moment, when it was - on his person, he was pursued by the police. He made for the factory in - which he worked, and he knew that he had only a few minutes in which to - conceal this enormously valuable prize, which would otherwise be found on - him when he was searched. Six plaster casts of Napoleon were drying in the - passage. One of them was still soft. In an instant Beppo, a skilful - workman, made a small hole in the wet plaster, dropped in the pearl, and - with a few touches covered over the aperture once more. It was an - admirable hiding-place. No one could possibly find it. But Beppo was - condemned to a year’s imprisonment, and in the meanwhile his six busts - were scattered over London. He could not tell which contained his - treasure. Only by breaking them could he see. Even shaking would tell him - nothing, for as the plaster was wet it was probable that the pearl would - adhere to it—as, in fact, it has done. Beppo did not despair, and he - conducted his search with considerable ingenuity and perseverance. Through - a cousin who works with Gelder, he found out the retail firms who had - bought the busts. He managed to find employment with Morse Hudson, and in - that way tracked down three of them. The pearl was not there. Then, with - the help of some Italian employee, he succeeded in finding out where the - other three busts had gone. The first was at Harker’s. There he was dogged - by his confederate, who held Beppo responsible for the loss of the pearl, - and he stabbed him in the scuffle which followed.” - </p> - <p> - “If he was his confederate, why should he carry his photograph?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “As a means of tracing him, if he wished to inquire about him from any - third person. That was the obvious reason. Well, after the murder I - calculated that Beppo would probably hurry rather than delay his - movements. He would fear that the police would read his secret, and so he - hastened on before they should get ahead of him. Of course, I could not - say that he had not found the pearl in Harker’s bust. I had not even - concluded for certain that it was the pearl, but it was evident to me that - he was looking for something, since he carried the bust past the other - houses in order to break it in the garden which had a lamp overlooking it. - Since Harker’s bust was one in three, the chances were exactly as I told - you—two to one against the pearl being inside it. There remained two - busts, and it was obvious that he would go for the London one first. I - warned the inmates of the house, so as to avoid a second tragedy, and we - went down, with the happiest results. By that time, of course, I knew for - certain that it was the Borgia pearl that we were after. The name of the - murdered man linked the one event with the other. There only remained a - single bust—the Reading one—and the pearl must be there. I - bought it in your presence from the owner—and there it lies.” - </p> - <p> - We sat in silence for a moment. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Lestrade, “I’ve seen you handle a good many cases, Mr. - Holmes, but I don’t know that I ever knew a more workmanlike one than - that. We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are very - proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow, there’s not a man, from the - oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake - you by the hand.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you!” said Holmes. “Thank you!” and as he turned away, it seemed to - me that he was more nearly moved by the softer human emotions than I had - ever seen him. A moment later he was the cold and practical thinker once - more. “Put the pearl in the safe, Watson,” said he, “and get out the - papers of the Conk-Singleton forgery case. Good-bye, Lestrade. If any - little problem comes your way, I shall be happy, if I can, to give you a - hint or two as to its solution.” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap09"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS</h2> - - <p> - It was in the year ’95 that a combination of events, into which I need not - enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks in one of - our great university towns, and it was during this time that the small but - instructive adventure which I am about to relate befell us. It will be - obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly to identify - the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful - a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident - itself may, however, be described, since it serves to illustrate some of - those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavour, in - my statement, to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to - any particular place, or give a clue as to the people concerned. - </p> - <p> - We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a library - where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious researches in early - English charters—researches which led to results so striking that - they may be the subject of one of my future narratives. Here it was that - one evening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, - tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke’s. Mr. Soames was a tall, - spare man, of a nervous and excitable temperament. I had always known him - to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he was in - such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very - unusual had occurred. - </p> - <p> - “I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable - time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke’s, and really, but - for the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a loss - what to do.” - </p> - <p> - “I am very busy just now, and I desire no distractions,” my friend - answered. “I should much prefer that you called in the aid of the police.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible. When once the - law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of those - cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid - scandal. Your discretion is as well-known as your powers, and you are the - one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what - you can.” - </p> - <p> - My friend’s temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the - congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrapbooks, his - chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He - shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in - hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth his - story. - </p> - <p> - “I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to-morrow is the first day of the - examination for the Fortescue Scholarship. I am one of the examiners. My - subject is Greek, and the first of the papers consists of a large passage - of Greek translation which the candidate has not seen. This passage is - printed on the examination paper, and it would naturally be an immense - advantage if the candidate could prepare it in advance. For this reason, - great care is taken to keep the paper secret. - </p> - <p> - “To-day, about three o’clock, the proofs of this paper arrived from the - printers. The exercise consists of half a chapter of Thucydides. I had to - read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At - four-thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to - take tea in a friend’s rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was - absent rather more than an hour. - </p> - <p> - “You are aware, Mr. Holmes, that our college doors are double—a - green baize one within and a heavy oak one without. As I approached my - outer door, I was amazed to see a key in it. For an instant I imagined - that I had left my own there, but on feeling in my pocket I found that it - was all right. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was - that which belonged to my servant, Bannister—a man who has looked - after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above - suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my - room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key - in the door when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a - very few minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key would - have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has - produced the most deplorable consequences. - </p> - <p> - “The moment I looked at my table, I was aware that someone had rummaged - among my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all - together. Now, I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one was on - the side table near the window, and the third was where I had left it.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes stirred for the first time. - </p> - <p> - “The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where - you left it,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Exactly, Mr. Holmes. You amaze me. How could you possibly know that?” - </p> - <p> - “Pray continue your very interesting statement.” - </p> - <p> - “For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable - liberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmost - earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The - alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had - known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum - of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an - unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage - over his fellows. - </p> - <p> - “Bannister was very much upset by the incident. He had nearly fainted when - we found that the papers had undoubtedly been tampered with. I gave him a - little brandy and left him collapsed in a chair, while I made a most - careful examination of the room. I soon saw that the intruder had left - other traces of his presence besides the rumpled papers. On the table in - the window were several shreds from a pencil which had been sharpened. A - broken tip of lead was lying there also. Evidently the rascal had copied - the paper in a great hurry, had broken his pencil, and had been compelled - to put a fresh point to it.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent!” said Holmes, who was recovering his good-humour as his - attention became more engrossed by the case. “Fortune has been your - friend.” - </p> - <p> - “This was not all. I have a new writing-table with a fine surface of red - leather. I am prepared to swear, and so is Bannister, that it was smooth - and unstained. Now I found a clean cut in it about three inches long—not - a mere scratch, but a positive cut. Not only this, but on the table I - found a small ball of black dough or clay, with specks of something which - looks like sawdust in it. I am convinced that these marks were left by the - man who rifled the papers. There were no footmarks and no other evidence - as to his identity. I was at my wits’ end, when suddenly the happy thought - occurred to me that you were in the town, and I came straight round to put - the matter into your hands. Do help me, Mr. Holmes. You see my dilemma. - Either I must find the man or else the examination must be postponed until - fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot be done without - explanation, there will ensue a hideous scandal, which will throw a cloud - not only on the college, but on the university. Above all things, I desire - to settle the matter quietly and discreetly.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall be happy to look into it and to give you such advice as I can,” - said Holmes, rising and putting on his overcoat. “The case is not entirely - devoid of interest. Had anyone visited you in your room after the papers - came to you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, young Daulat Ras, an Indian student, who lives on the same stair, - came in to ask me some particulars about the examination.” - </p> - <p> - “For which he was entered?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “And the papers were on your table?” - </p> - <p> - “To the best of my belief, they were rolled up.” - </p> - <p> - “But might be recognized as proofs?” - </p> - <p> - “Possibly.” - </p> - <p> - “No one else in your room?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Did anyone know that these proofs would be there?” - </p> - <p> - “No one save the printer.” - </p> - <p> - “Did this man Bannister know?” - </p> - <p> - “No, certainly not. No one knew.” - </p> - <p> - “Where is Bannister now?” - </p> - <p> - “He was very ill, poor fellow. I left him collapsed in the chair. I was in - such a hurry to come to you.” - </p> - <p> - “You left your door open?” - </p> - <p> - “I locked up the papers first.” - </p> - <p> - “Then it amounts to this, Mr. Soames: that, unless the Indian student - recognized the roll as being proofs, the man who tampered with them came - upon them accidentally without knowing that they were there.” - </p> - <p> - “So it seems to me.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes gave an enigmatic smile. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said he, “let us go round. Not one of your cases, Watson—mental, - not physical. All right; come if you want to. Now, Mr. Soames—at - your disposal!” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - The sitting-room of our client opened by a long, low, latticed window on - to the ancient lichen-tinted court of the old college. A Gothic arched - door led to a worn stone staircase. On the ground floor was the tutor’s - room. Above were three students, one on each story. It was already - twilight when we reached the scene of our problem. Holmes halted and - looked earnestly at the window. Then he approached it, and, standing on - tiptoe with his neck craned, he looked into the room. - </p> - <p> - “He must have entered through the door. There is no opening except the one - pane,” said our learned guide. - </p> - <p> - “Dear me!” said Holmes, and he smiled in a singular way as he glanced at - our companion. “Well, if there is nothing to be learned here, we had best - go inside.” - </p> - <p> - The lecturer unlocked the outer door and ushered us into his room. We - stood at the entrance while Holmes made an examination of the carpet. - </p> - <p> - “I am afraid there are no signs here,” said he. “One could hardly hope for - any upon so dry a day. Your servant seems to have quite recovered. You - left him in a chair, you say. Which chair?” - </p> - <p> - “By the window there.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. Near this little table. You can come in now. I have finished with - the carpet. Let us take the little table first. Of course, what has - happened is very clear. The man entered and took the papers, sheet by - sheet, from the central table. He carried them over to the window table, - because from there he could see if you came across the courtyard, and so - could effect an escape.” - </p> - <p> - “As a matter of fact, he could not,” said Soames, “for I entered by the - side door.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, that’s good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Let me see the three - strips. No finger impressions—no! Well, he carried over this one - first, and he copied it. How long would it take him to do that, using - every possible contraction? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then he tossed - it down and seized the next. He was in the midst of that when your return - caused him to make a very hurried retreat—<i>very</i> hurried, since he had - not time to replace the papers which would tell you that he had been - there. You were not aware of any hurrying feet on the stair as you entered - the outer door?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I can’t say I was.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he wrote so furiously that he broke his pencil, and had, as you - observe, to sharpen it again. This is of interest, Watson. The pencil was - not an ordinary one. It was above the usual size, with a soft lead, the - outer colour was dark blue, the maker’s name was printed in silver - lettering, and the piece remaining is only about an inch and a half long. - Look for such a pencil, Mr. Soames, and you have got your man. When I add - that he possesses a large and very blunt knife, you have an additional - aid.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Soames was somewhat overwhelmed by this flood of information. “I can - follow the other points,” said he, “but really, in this matter of the - length——” - </p> - <p> - Holmes held out a small chip with the letters NN and a space of clear wood - after them. - </p> - <p> - “You see?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I fear that even now——” - </p> - <p> - “Watson, I have always done you an injustice. There are others. What could - this NN be? It is at the end of a word. You are aware that Johann Faber is - the most common maker’s name. Is it not clear that there is just as much - of the pencil left as usually follows the Johann?” He held the small table - sideways to the electric light. “I was hoping that if the paper on which - he wrote was thin, some trace of it might come through upon this polished - surface. No, I see nothing. I don’t think there is anything more to be - learned here. Now for the central table. This small pellet is, I presume, - the black, doughy mass you spoke of. Roughly pyramidal in shape and - hollowed out, I perceive. As you say, there appear to be grains of sawdust - in it. Dear me, this is very interesting. And the cut—a positive - tear, I see. It began with a thin scratch and ended in a jagged hole. I am - much indebted to you for directing my attention to this case, Mr. Soames. - Where does that door lead to?” - </p> - <p> - “To my bedroom.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you been in it since your adventure?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I came straight away for you.” - </p> - <p> - “I should like to have a glance round. What a charming, old-fashioned - room! Perhaps you will kindly wait a minute, until I have examined the - floor. No, I see nothing. What about this curtain? You hang your clothes - behind it. If anyone were forced to conceal himself in this room he must - do it there, since the bed is too low and the wardrobe too shallow. No one - there, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from some little rigidity and - alertness of his attitude, that he was prepared for an emergency. As a - matter of fact, the drawn curtain disclosed nothing but three or four - suits of clothes hanging from a line of pegs. Holmes turned away, and - stooped suddenly to the floor. - </p> - <p> - “Halloa! What’s this?” said he. - </p> - <p> - It was a small pyramid of black, putty-like stuff, exactly like the one - upon the table of the study. Holmes held it out on his open palm in the - glare of the electric light. - </p> - <p> - “Your visitor seems to have left traces in your bedroom as well as in your - sitting-room, Mr. Soames.” - </p> - <p> - “What could he have wanted there?” - </p> - <p> - “I think it is clear enough. You came back by an unexpected way, and so he - had no warning until you were at the very door. What could he do? He - caught up everything which would betray him, and he rushed into your - bedroom to conceal himself.” - </p> - <p> - “Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, do you mean to tell me that, all the time I - was talking to Bannister in this room, we had the man prisoner if we had - only known it?” - </p> - <p> - “So I read it.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely there is another alternative, Mr. Holmes. I don’t know whether you - observed my bedroom window?” - </p> - <p> - “Lattice-paned, lead framework, three separate windows, one swinging on - hinge, and large enough to admit a man.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. And it looks out on an angle of the courtyard so as to be partly - invisible. The man might have effected his entrance there, left traces as - he passed through the bedroom, and finally, finding the door open, have - escaped that way.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes shook his head impatiently. - </p> - <p> - “Let us be practical,” said he. “I understand you to say that there are - three students who use this stair, and are in the habit of passing your - door?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there are.” - </p> - <p> - “And they are all in for this examination?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you any reason to suspect any one of them more than the others?” - </p> - <p> - Soames hesitated. - </p> - <p> - “It is a very delicate question,” said he. “One hardly likes to throw - suspicion where there are no proofs.” - </p> - <p> - “Let us hear the suspicions. I will look after the proofs.” - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you, then, in a few words the character of the three men who - inhabit these rooms. The lower of the three is Gilchrist, a fine scholar - and athlete, plays in the Rugby team and the cricket team for the college, - and got his Blue for the hurdles and the long jump. He is a fine, manly - fellow. His father was the notorious Sir Jabez Gilchrist, who ruined - himself on the turf. My scholar has been left very poor, but he is - hard-working and industrious. He will do well. - </p> - <p> - “The second floor is inhabited by Daulat Ras, the Indian. He is a quiet, - inscrutable fellow; as most of those Indians are. He is well up in his - work, though his Greek is his weak subject. He is steady and methodical. - </p> - <p> - “The top floor belongs to Miles McLaren. He is a brilliant fellow when he - chooses to work—one of the brightest intellects of the university; - but he is wayward, dissipated, and unprincipled. He was nearly expelled - over a card scandal in his first year. He has been idling all this term, - and he must look forward with dread to the examination.” - </p> - <p> - “Then it is he whom you suspect?” - </p> - <p> - “I dare not go so far as that. But, of the three, he is perhaps the least - unlikely.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. Now, Mr. Soames, let us have a look at your servant, Bannister.” - </p> - <p> - He was a little, white-faced, clean-shaven, grizzly-haired fellow of - fifty. He was still suffering from this sudden disturbance of the quiet - routine of his life. His plump face was twitching with his nervousness, - and his fingers could not keep still. - </p> - <p> - “We are investigating this unhappy business, Bannister,” said his master. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand,” said Holmes, “that you left your key in the door?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Was it not very extraordinary that you should do this on the very day - when there were these papers inside?” - </p> - <p> - “It was most unfortunate, sir. But I have occasionally done the same thing - at other times.” - </p> - <p> - “When did you enter the room?” - </p> - <p> - “It was about half-past four. That is Mr. Soames’ tea time.” - </p> - <p> - “How long did you stay?” - </p> - <p> - “When I saw that he was absent, I withdrew at once.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you look at these papers on the table?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir—certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “How came you to leave the key in the door?” - </p> - <p> - “I had the tea-tray in my hand. I thought I would come back for the key. - Then I forgot.” - </p> - <p> - “Has the outer door a spring lock?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Then it was open all the time?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Anyone in the room could get out?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “When Mr. Soames returned and called for you, you were very much - disturbed?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. Such a thing has never happened during the many years that I - have been here. I nearly fainted, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “So I understand. Where were you when you began to feel bad?” - </p> - <p> - “Where was I, sir? Why, here, near the door.” - </p> - <p> - “That is singular, because you sat down in that chair over yonder near the - corner. Why did you pass these other chairs?” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know, sir, it didn’t matter to me where I sat.” - </p> - <p> - “I really don’t think he knew much about it, Mr. Holmes. He was looking - very bad—quite ghastly.” - </p> - <p> - “You stayed here when your master left?” - </p> - <p> - “Only for a minute or so. Then I locked the door and went to my room.” - </p> - <p> - “Whom do you suspect?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I would not venture to say, sir. I don’t believe there is any - gentleman in this university who is capable of profiting by such an - action. No, sir, I’ll not believe it.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you, that will do,” said Holmes. “Oh, one more word. You have not - mentioned to any of the three gentlemen whom you attend that anything is - amiss?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir—not a word.” - </p> - <p> - “You haven’t seen any of them?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good. Now, Mr. Soames, we will take a walk in the quadrangle, if you - please.” - </p> - <p> - Three yellow squares of light shone above us in the gathering gloom. - </p> - <p> - “Your three birds are all in their nests,” said Holmes, looking up. - “Halloa! What’s that? One of them seems restless enough.” - </p> - <p> - It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. - He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. - </p> - <p> - “I should like to have a peep at each of them,” said Holmes. “Is it - possible?” - </p> - <p> - “No difficulty in the world,” Soames answered. “This set of rooms is quite - the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over - them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you.” - </p> - <p> - “No names, please!” said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist’s door. A - tall, flaxen-haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcome when - he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of - mediæval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of - them that he insisted on drawing it in his notebook, broke his pencil, had - to borrow one from our host and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his - own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian—a - silent, little, hook-nosed fellow, who eyed us askance, and was obviously - glad when Holmes’s architectural studies had come to an end. I could not - see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was - searching. Only at the third did our visit prove abortive. The outer door - would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrent - of bad language came from behind it. “I don’t care who you are. You can go - to blazes!” roared the angry voice. “Tomorrow’s the exam, and I won’t be - drawn by anyone.” - </p> - <p> - “A rude fellow,” said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down - the stair. “Of course, he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, - but none the less his conduct was very uncourteous, and, indeed, under the - circumstances rather suspicious.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes’s response was a curious one. - </p> - <p> - “Can you tell me his exact height?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than the - Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be about - it.” - </p> - <p> - “That is very important,” said Holmes. “And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you - good-night.” - </p> - <p> - Our guide cried aloud in his astonishment and dismay. “Good gracious, Mr. - Holmes, you are surely not going to leave me in this abrupt fashion! You - don’t seem to realize the position. To-morrow is the examination. I must - take some definite action to-night. I cannot allow the examination to be - held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be - faced.” - </p> - <p> - “You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to-morrow morning - and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a position then - to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile, you change nothing—nothing - at all.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “You can be perfectly easy in your mind. We shall certainly find some way - out of your difficulties. I will take the black clay with me, also the - pencil cuttings. Good-bye.” - </p> - <p> - When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again looked up at - the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others were invisible. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Watson, what do you think of it?” Holmes asked, as we came out into - the main street. “Quite a little parlour game—sort of three-card - trick, is it not? There are your three men. It must be one of them. You - take your choice. Which is yours?” - </p> - <p> - “The foul-mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. - And yet that Indian was a sly fellow also. Why should he be pacing his - room all the time?” - </p> - <p> - “There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn - anything by heart.” - </p> - <p> - “He looked at us in a queer way.” - </p> - <p> - “So would you, if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were - preparing for an examination next day, and every moment was of value. No, - I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives—all was - satisfactory. But that fellow <i>does</i> puzzle me.” - </p> - <p> - “Who?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Bannister, the servant. What’s his game in the matter?” - </p> - <p> - “He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man.” - </p> - <p> - “So he did me. That’s the puzzling part. Why should a perfectly honest man—well, - well, here’s a large stationer’s. We shall begin our researches here.” - </p> - <p> - There were only four stationers of any consequences in the town, and at - each Holmes produced his pencil chips, and bid high for a duplicate. All - were agreed that one could be ordered, but that it was not a usual size of - pencil and that it was seldom kept in stock. My friend did not appear to - be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders in half-humorous - resignation. - </p> - <p> - “No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to - nothing. But, indeed, I have little doubt that we can build up a - sufficient case without it. By Jove! my dear fellow, it is nearly nine, - and the landlady babbled of green peas at seven-thirty. What with your - eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you - will get notice to quit, and that I shall share your downfall—not, - however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the - careless servant, and the three enterprising students.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - Holmes made no further allusion to the matter that day, though he sat lost - in thought for a long time after our belated dinner. At eight in the - morning, he came into my room just as I finished my toilet. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Watson,” said he, “it is time we went down to St. Luke’s. Can you - do without breakfast?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “Soames will be in a dreadful fidget until we are able to tell him - something positive.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you anything positive to tell him?” - </p> - <p> - “I think so.” - </p> - <p> - “You have formed a conclusion?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, my dear Watson, I have solved the mystery.” - </p> - <p> - “But what fresh evidence could you have got?” - </p> - <p> - “Aha! It is not for nothing that I have turned myself out of bed at the - untimely hour of six. I have put in two hours’ hard work and covered at - least five miles, with something to show for it. Look at that!” - </p> - <p> - He held out his hand. On the palm were three little pyramids of black, - doughy clay. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Holmes, you had only two yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - “And one more this morning. It is a fair argument that wherever No. 3 came - from is also the source of Nos. 1 and 2. Eh, Watson? Well, come along and - put friend Soames out of his pain.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable agitation when - we found him in his chambers. In a few hours the examination would - commence, and he was still in the dilemma between making the facts public - and allowing the culprit to compete for the valuable scholarship. He could - hardly stand still so great was his mental agitation, and he ran towards - Holmes with two eager hands outstretched. - </p> - <p> - “Thank heaven that you have come! I feared that you had given it up in - despair. What am I to do? Shall the examination proceed?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, let it proceed, by all means.” - </p> - <p> - “But this rascal?—” - </p> - <p> - “He shall not compete.” - </p> - <p> - “You know him?” - </p> - <p> - “I think so. If this matter is not to become public, we must give - ourselves certain powers and resolve ourselves into a small private - court-martial. You there, if you please, Soames! Watson, you here! I’ll - take the armchair in the middle. I think that we are now sufficiently - imposing to strike terror into a guilty breast. Kindly ring the bell!” - </p> - <p> - Bannister entered, and shrank back in evident surprise and fear at our - judicial appearance. - </p> - <p> - “You will kindly close the door,” said Holmes. “Now, Bannister, will you - please tell us the truth about yesterday’s incident?” - </p> - <p> - The man turned white to the roots of his hair. - </p> - <p> - “I have told you everything, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing to add?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing at all, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you sat down on - that chair yesterday, did you do so in order to conceal some object which - would have shown who had been in the room?” - </p> - <p> - Bannister’s face was ghastly. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “It is only a suggestion,” said Holmes, suavely. “I frankly admit that I - am unable to prove it. But it seems probable enough, since the moment that - Mr. Soames’s back was turned, you released the man who was hiding in that - bedroom.” - </p> - <p> - Bannister licked his dry lips. - </p> - <p> - “There was no man, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, that’s a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have spoken the truth, - but now I know that you have lied.” - </p> - <p> - The man’s face set in sullen defiance. - </p> - <p> - “There was no man, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Come, come, Bannister!” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, there was no one.” - </p> - <p> - “In that case, you can give us no further information. Would you please - remain in the room? Stand over there near the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I - am going to ask you to have the great kindness to go up to the room of - young Gilchrist, and to ask him to step down into yours.” - </p> - <p> - An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the student. He was - a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe, and agile, with a springy step and a - pleasant, open face. His troubled blue eyes glanced at each of us, and - finally rested with an expression of blank dismay upon Bannister in the - farther corner. - </p> - <p> - “Just close the door,” said Holmes. “Now, Mr. Gilchrist, we are all quite - alone here, and no one need ever know one word of what passes between us. - We can be perfectly frank with each other. We want to know, Mr. Gilchrist, - how you, an honourable man, ever came to commit such an action as that of - yesterday?” - </p> - <p> - The unfortunate young man staggered back, and cast a look full of horror - and reproach at Bannister. - </p> - <p> - “No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir, I never said a word—never one word!” - cried the servant. - </p> - <p> - “No, but you have now,” said Holmes. “Now, sir, you must see that after - Bannister’s words your position is hopeless, and that your only chance - lies in a frank confession.” - </p> - <p> - For a moment Gilchrist, with upraised hand, tried to control his writhing - features. The next he had thrown himself on his knees beside the table, - and burying his face in his hands, he had burst into a storm of passionate - sobbing. - </p> - <p> - “Come, come,” said Holmes, kindly, “it is human to err, and at least no - one can accuse you of being a callous criminal. Perhaps it would be easier - for you if I were to tell Mr. Soames what occurred, and you can check me - where I am wrong. Shall I do so? Well, well, don’t trouble to answer. - Listen, and see that I do you no injustice. - </p> - <p> - “From the moment, Mr. Soames, that you said to me that no one, not even - Bannister, could have told that the papers were in your room, the case - began to take a definite shape in my mind. The printer one could, of - course, dismiss. He could examine the papers in his own office. The Indian - I also thought nothing of. If the proofs were in a roll, he could not - possibly know what they were. On the other hand, it seemed an unthinkable - coincidence that a man should dare to enter the room, and that by chance - on that very day the papers were on the table. I dismissed that. The man - who entered knew that the papers were there. How did he know? - </p> - <p> - “When I approached your room, I examined the window. You amused me by - supposing that I was contemplating the possibility of someone having in - broad daylight, under the eyes of all these opposite rooms, forced himself - through it. Such an idea was absurd. I was measuring how tall a man would - need to be in order to see, as he passed, what papers were on the central - table. I am six feet high, and I could do it with an effort. No one less - than that would have a chance. Already you see I had reason to think that, - if one of your three students was a man of unusual height, he was the most - worth watching of the three. - </p> - <p> - “I entered, and I took you into my confidence as to the suggestions of the - side table. Of the centre table I could make nothing, until in your - description of Gilchrist you mentioned that he was a long-distance jumper. - Then the whole thing came to me in an instant, and I only needed certain - corroborative proofs, which I speedily obtained. - </p> - <p> - “What happened was this. This young fellow had employed his - afternoon at the athletic grounds, where he had been practising the jump. - He returned carrying his jumping-shoes, which are provided, as you are - aware, with several sharp spikes. As he passed your window he saw, by - means of his great height, these proofs upon your table, and conjectured - what they were. No harm would have been done had it not been that, as he - passed your door, he perceived the key which had been left by the - carelessness of your servant. A sudden impulse came over him to enter, - and see if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerous exploit - for he could always pretend that he had simply looked in to ask a - question. - </p> - <p> - “Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was then that he - yielded to temptation. He put his shoes on the table. What was it you put - on that chair near the window?” - </p> - <p> - “Gloves,” said the young man. - </p> - <p> - Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. “He put his gloves on the chair, - and he took the proofs, sheet by sheet, to copy them. He thought the tutor - must return by the main gate and that he would see him. As we know, he - came back by the side gate. Suddenly he heard him at the very door. There - was no possible escape. He forgot his gloves but he caught up his shoes - and darted into the bedroom. You observe that the scratch on that table is - slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the bedroom door. That - in itself is enough to show us that the shoe had been drawn in that - direction, and that the culprit had taken refuge there. The earth round - the spike had been left on the table, and a second sample was loosened and - fell in the bedroom. I may add that I walked out to the athletic grounds - this morning, saw that tenacious black clay is used in the jumping-pit and - carried away a specimen of it, together with some of the fine tan or - sawdust which is strewn over it to prevent the athlete from slipping. Have - I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?” - </p> - <p> - The student had drawn himself erect. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, it is true,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Good heavens! have you nothing to add?” cried Soames. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I have, but the shock of this disgraceful exposure has - bewildered me. I have a letter here, Mr. Soames, which I wrote to you - early this morning in the middle of a restless night. It was before I knew - that my sin had found me out. Here it is, sir. You will see that I have - said, ‘I have determined not to go in for the examination. I have been - offered a commission in the Rhodesian Police, and I am going out to South - Africa at once.’” - </p> - <p> - “I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to profit by your - unfair advantage,” said Soames. “But why did you change your purpose?” - </p> - <p> - Gilchrist pointed to Bannister. - </p> - <p> - “There is the man who set me in the right path,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “Come now, Bannister,” said Holmes. “It will be clear to you, from what I - have said, that only you could have let this young man out, since you were - left in the room, and must have locked the door when you went out. As to - his escaping by that window, it was incredible. Can you not clear up the - last point in this mystery, and tell us the reasons for your action?” - </p> - <p> - “It was simple enough, sir, if you only had known, but, with all your - cleverness, it was impossible that you could know. Time was, sir, when I - was butler to old Sir Jabez Gilchrist, this young gentleman’s father. When - he was ruined I came to the college as servant, but I never forgot my old - employer because he was down in the world. I watched his son all I could - for the sake of the old days. Well, sir, when I came into this room - yesterday, when the alarm was given, the very first thing I saw was Mr. - Gilchrist’s tan gloves a-lying in that chair. I knew those gloves well, - and I understood their message. If Mr. Soames saw them, the game was up. I - flopped down into that chair, and nothing would budge me until Mr. Soames - he went for you. Then out came my poor young master, whom I had dandled on - my knee, and confessed it all to me. Wasn’t it natural, sir, that I should - save him, and wasn’t it natural also that I should try to speak to him as - his dead father would have done, and make him understand that he could not - profit by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?” - </p> - <p> - “No, indeed,” said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet. “Well, Soames, - I think we have cleared your little problem up, and our breakfast awaits - us at home. Come, Watson! As to you, sir, I trust that a bright future - awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you have fallen low. Let us see, in the - future, how high you can rise.” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap10"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE GOLDEN PINCE-NEZ</h2> - - <p> - When I look at the three massive manuscript volumes which contain our work - for the year 1894, I confess that it is very difficult for me, out of such - a wealth of material, to select the cases which are most interesting in - themselves, and at the same time most conducive to a display of those - peculiar powers for which my friend was famous. As I turn over the pages, - I see my notes upon the repulsive story of the red leech and the terrible - death of Crosby, the banker. Here also I find an account of the Addleton - tragedy, and the singular contents of the ancient British barrow. The - famous Smith-Mortimer succession case comes also within this period, and - so does the tracking and arrest of Huret, the Boulevard assassin—an - exploit which won for Holmes an autograph letter of thanks from the French - President and the Order of the Legion of Honour. Each of these would - furnish a narrative, but on the whole I am of opinion that none of them - unites so many singular points of interest as the episode of Yoxley Old - Place, which includes not only the lamentable death of young Willoughby - Smith, but also those subsequent developments which threw so curious a - light upon the causes of the crime. - </p> - <p> - It was a wild, tempestuous night, towards the close of November. Holmes - and I sat together in silence all the evening, he engaged with a powerful - lens deciphering the remains of the original inscription upon a - palimpsest, I deep in a recent treatise upon surgery. Outside the wind - howled down Baker Street, while the rain beat fiercely against the - windows. It was strange there, in the very depths of the town, with ten - miles of man’s handiwork on every side of us, to feel the iron grip of - Nature, and to be conscious that to the huge elemental forces all London - was no more than the molehills that dot the fields. I walked to the - window, and looked out on the deserted street. The occasional lamps - gleamed on the expanse of muddy road and shining pavement. A single cab - was splashing its way from the Oxford Street end. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Watson, it’s as well we have not to turn out to-night,” said - Holmes, laying aside his lens and rolling up the palimpsest. “I’ve done - enough for one sitting. It is trying work for the eyes. So far as I can - make out, it is nothing more exciting than an Abbey’s accounts dating from - the second half of the fifteenth century. Halloa! halloa! halloa! What’s - this?” - </p> - <p> - Amid the droning of the wind there had come the stamping of a horse’s - hoofs, and the long grind of a wheel as it rasped against the curb. The - cab which I had seen had pulled up at our door. - </p> - <p> - “What can he want?” I ejaculated, as a man stepped out of it. - </p> - <p> - “Want? He wants us. And we, my poor Watson, want overcoats and cravats and - goloshes, and every aid that man ever invented to fight the weather. Wait - a bit, though! There’s the cab off again! There’s hope yet. He’d have kept - it if he had wanted us to come. Run down, my dear fellow, and open the - door, for all virtuous folk have been long in bed.” - </p> - <p> - When the light of the hall lamp fell upon our midnight visitor, I had no - difficulty in recognizing him. It was young Stanley Hopkins, a promising - detective, in whose career Holmes had several times shown a very practical - interest. - </p> - <p> - “Is he in?” he asked, eagerly. - </p> - <p> - “Come up, my dear sir,” said Holmes’s voice from above. “I hope you have - no designs upon us such a night as this.” - </p> - <p> - The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleamed upon his shining - waterproof. I helped him out of it, while Holmes knocked a blaze out of - the logs in the grate. - </p> - <p> - “Now, my dear Hopkins, draw up and warm your toes,” said he. “Here’s a - cigar, and the doctor has a prescription containing hot water and a lemon, - which is good medicine on a night like this. It must be something - important which has brought you out in such a gale.” - </p> - <p> - “It is indeed, Mr. Holmes. I’ve had a bustling afternoon, I promise you. - Did you see anything of the Yoxley case in the latest editions?” - </p> - <p> - “I’ve seen nothing later than the fifteenth century to-day.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it was only a paragraph, and all wrong at that, so you have not - missed anything. I haven’t let the grass grow under my feet. It’s down in - Kent, seven miles from Chatham and three from the railway line. I was - wired for at 3:15, reached Yoxley Old Place at 5, conducted my - investigation, was back at Charing Cross by the last train, and straight - to you by cab.” - </p> - <p> - “Which means, I suppose, that you are not quite clear about your case?” - </p> - <p> - “It means that I can make neither head nor tail of it. So far as I can - see, it is just as tangled a business as ever I handled, and yet at first - it seemed so simple that one couldn’t go wrong. There’s no motive, Mr. - Holmes. That’s what bothers me—I can’t put my hand on a motive. - Here’s a man dead—there’s no denying that—but, so far as I can - see, no reason on earth why anyone should wish him harm.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes lit his cigar and leaned back in his chair. - </p> - <p> - “Let us hear about it,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve got my facts pretty clear,” said Stanley Hopkins. “All I want now is - to know what they all mean. The story, so far as I can make it out, is - like this. Some years ago this country house, Yoxley Old Place, was taken - by an elderly man, who gave the name of Professor Coram. He was an - invalid, keeping his bed half the time, and the other half hobbling round - the house with a stick or being pushed about the grounds by the gardener - in a Bath chair. He was well liked by the few neighbours who called upon - him, and he has the reputation down there of being a very learned man. His - household used to consist of an elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Marker, and of a - maid, Susan Tarlton. These have both been with him since his arrival, and - they seem to be women of excellent character. The professor is writing a - learned book, and he found it necessary, about a year ago, to engage a - secretary. The first two that he tried were not successes, but the third, - Mr. Willoughby Smith, a very young man straight from the university, seems - to have been just what his employer wanted. His work consisted in writing - all the morning to the professor’s dictation, and he usually spent the - evening in hunting up references and passages which bore upon the next - day’s work. This Willoughby Smith has nothing against him, either as a boy - at Uppingham or as a young man at Cambridge. I have seen his testimonials, - and from the first he was a decent, quiet, hard-working fellow, with no - weak spot in him at all. And yet this is the lad who has met his death - this morning in the professor’s study under circumstances which can point - only to murder.” - </p> - <p> - The wind howled and screamed at the windows. Holmes and I drew closer to - the fire, while the young inspector slowly and point by point developed - his singular narrative. - </p> - <p> - “If you were to search all England,” said he, “I don’t suppose you could - find a household more self-contained or freer from outside influences. - Whole weeks would pass, and not one of them go past the garden gate. The - professor was buried in his work and existed for nothing else. Young Smith - knew nobody in the neighbourhood, and lived very much as his employer did. - The two women had nothing to take them from the house. Mortimer, the - gardener, who wheels the Bath chair, is an army pensioner—an old - Crimean man of excellent character. He does not live in the house, but in - a three-roomed cottage at the other end of the garden. Those are the only - people that you would find within the grounds of Yoxley Old Place. At the - same time, the gate of the garden is a hundred yards from the main London - to Chatham road. It opens with a latch, and there is nothing to prevent - anyone from walking in. - </p> - <p> - “Now I will give you the evidence of Susan Tarlton, who is the only person - who can say anything positive about the matter. It was in the forenoon, - between eleven and twelve. She was engaged at the moment in hanging some - curtains in the upstairs front bedroom. Professor Coram was still in bed, - for when the weather is bad he seldom rises before midday. The housekeeper - was busied with some work in the back of the house. Willoughby Smith had - been in his bedroom, which he uses as a sitting-room, but the maid heard - him at that moment pass along the passage and descend to the study - immediately below her. She did not see him, but she says that she could - not be mistaken in his quick, firm tread. She did not hear the study door - close, but a minute or so later there was a dreadful cry in the room - below. It was a wild, hoarse scream, so strange and unnatural that it - might have come either from a man or a woman. At the same instant there - was a heavy thud, which shook the old house, and then all was silence. The - maid stood petrified for a moment, and then, recovering her courage, she - ran downstairs. The study door was shut and she opened it. Inside, young - Mr. Willoughby Smith was stretched upon the floor. At first she could see - no injury, but as she tried to raise him she saw that blood was pouring - from the underside of his neck. It was pierced by a very small but very - deep wound, which had divided the carotid artery. The instrument with - which the injury had been inflicted lay upon the carpet beside him. It was - one of those small sealing-wax knives to be found on old-fashioned - writing-tables, with an ivory handle and a stiff blade. It was part of the - fittings of the professor’s own desk. - </p> - <p> - “At first the maid thought that young Smith was already dead, but on - pouring some water from the carafe over his forehead he opened his eyes - for an instant. ‘The professor,’ he murmured—‘it was she.’ The maid - is prepared to swear that those were the exact words. He tried desperately - to say something else, and he held his right hand up in the air. Then he - fell back dead. - </p> - <p> - “In the meantime the housekeeper had also arrived upon the scene, but she - was just too late to catch the young man’s dying words. Leaving Susan with - the body, she hurried to the professor’s room. He was sitting up in bed, - horribly agitated, for he had heard enough to convince him that something - terrible had occurred. Mrs. Marker is prepared to swear that the professor - was still in his night-clothes, and indeed it was impossible for him to - dress without the help of Mortimer, whose orders were to come at twelve - o’clock. The professor declares that he heard the distant cry, but that he - knows nothing more. He can give no explanation of the young man’s last - words, ‘The professor—it was she,’ but imagines that they were the - outcome of delirium. He believes that Willoughby Smith had not an enemy in - the world, and can give no reason for the crime. His first action was to - send Mortimer, the gardener, for the local police. A little later the - chief constable sent for me. Nothing was moved before I got there, and - strict orders were given that no one should walk upon the paths leading to - the house. It was a splendid chance of putting your theories into - practice, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. There was really nothing wanting.” - </p> - <p> - “Except Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said my companion, with a somewhat bitter - smile. “Well, let us hear about it. What sort of a job did you make of - it?” - </p> - <p> - “I must ask you first, Mr. Holmes, to glance at this rough plan, which - will give you a general idea of the position of the professor’s study and - the various points of the case. It will help you in following my - investigation.” - </p> - <p> - He unfolded the rough chart, which I here reproduce, and he laid it - across Holmes’s knee. I rose and, standing behind Holmes, studied - it over his shoulder. - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img10.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="Professor's-Study"> - </div> - <p> - “It is very rough, of course, and it only deals with the points which seem - to me to be essential. All the rest you will see later for yourself. Now, - first of all, presuming that the assassin entered the house, how did he or - she come in? Undoubtedly by the garden path and the back door, from which - there is direct access to the study. Any other way would have been - exceedingly complicated. The escape must have also been made along that - line, for of the two other exits from the room one was blocked by Susan as - she ran downstairs and the other leads straight to the professor’s - bedroom. I therefore directed my attention at once to the garden path, - which was saturated with recent rain, and would certainly show any - footmarks. - </p> - <p> - “My examination showed me that I was dealing with a cautious and expert - criminal. No footmarks were to be found on the path. There could be no - question, however, that someone had passed along the grass border which - lines the path, and that he had done so in order to avoid leaving a track. - I could not find anything in the nature of a distinct impression, but the - grass was trodden down, and someone had undoubtedly passed. It could only - have been the murderer, since neither the gardener nor anyone else had - been there that morning, and the rain had only begun during the night.” - </p> - <p> - “One moment,” said Holmes. “Where does this path lead to?” - </p> - <p> - “To the road.” - </p> - <p> - “How long is it?” - </p> - <p> - “A hundred yards or so.” - </p> - <p> - “At the point where the path passes through the gate, you could surely - pick up the tracks?” - </p> - <p> - “Unfortunately, the path was tiled at that point.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, on the road itself?” - </p> - <p> - “No, it was all trodden into mire.” - </p> - <p> - “Tut-tut! Well, then, these tracks upon the grass, were they coming or - going?” - </p> - <p> - “It was impossible to say. There was never any outline.” - </p> - <p> - “A large foot or a small?” - </p> - <p> - “You could not distinguish.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes gave an ejaculation of impatience. - </p> - <p> - “It has been pouring rain and blowing a hurricane ever since,” said he. - “It will be harder to read now than that palimpsest. Well, well, it can’t - be helped. What did you do, Hopkins, after you had made certain that you - had made certain of nothing?” - </p> - <p> - “I think I made certain of a good deal, Mr. Holmes. I knew that someone - had entered the house cautiously from without. I next examined the - corridor. It is lined with cocoanut matting and had taken no impression of - any kind. This brought me into the study itself. It is a scantily - furnished room. The main article is a large writing-table with a fixed - bureau. This bureau consists of a double column of drawers, with a central - small cupboard between them. The drawers were open, the cupboard locked. - The drawers, it seems, were always open, and nothing of value was kept in - them. There were some papers of importance in the cupboard, but there were - no signs that this had been tampered with, and the professor assures me - that nothing was missing. It is certain that no robbery has been - committed. - </p> - <p> - “I come now to the body of the young man. It was found near the bureau, - and just to the left of it, as marked upon that chart. The stab was on the - right side of the neck and from behind forward, so that it is almost - impossible that it could have been self-inflicted.” - </p> - <p> - “Unless he fell upon the knife,” said Holmes. - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. The idea crossed my mind. But we found the knife some feet away - from the body, so that seems impossible. Then, of course, there are the - man’s own dying words. And, finally, there was this very important piece - of evidence which was found clasped in the dead man’s right hand.” - </p> - <p> - From his pocket Stanley Hopkins drew a small paper packet. He unfolded it - and disclosed a golden pince-nez, with two broken ends of black silk cord - dangling from the end of it. “Willoughby Smith had excellent sight,” he - added. “There can be no question that this was snatched from the face or - the person of the assassin.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes took the glasses into his hand, and examined them with the - utmost attention and interest. He held them on his nose, endeavoured to - read through them, went to the window and stared up the street with them, - looked at them most minutely in the full light of the lamp, and finally, - with a chuckle, seated himself at the table and wrote a few lines upon a - sheet of paper, which he tossed across to Stanley Hopkins. - </p> - <p> - “That’s the best I can do for you,” said he. “It may prove to be of some - use.” - </p> - <p> - The astonished detective read the note aloud. It ran as follows: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - “Wanted, a woman of good address, attired like a lady. She has a - remarkably thick nose, with eyes which are set close upon either side of - it. She has a puckered forehead, a peering expression, and probably - rounded shoulders. There are indications that she has had recourse to an - optician at least twice during the last few months. As her glasses are of - remarkable strength, and as opticians are not very numerous, there should - be no difficulty in tracing her.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smiled at the astonishment of Hopkins, which must have been - reflected upon my features. “Surely my deductions are simplicity itself,” - said he. “It would be difficult to name any articles which afford a finer - field for inference than a pair of glasses, especially so remarkable a - pair as these. That they belong to a woman I infer from their delicacy, - and also, of course, from the last words of the dying man. As to her being - a person of refinement and well dressed, they are, as you perceive, - handsomely mounted in solid gold, and it is inconceivable that anyone who - wore such glasses could be slatternly in other respects. You will find - that the clips are too wide for your nose, showing that the lady’s nose - was very broad at the base. This sort of nose is usually a short and - coarse one, but there is a sufficient number of exceptions to prevent me - from being dogmatic or from insisting upon this point in my description. - My own face is a narrow one, and yet I find that I cannot get my eyes into - the centre, nor near the centre, of these glasses. Therefore, the lady’s - eyes are set very near to the sides of the nose. You will perceive, - Watson, that the glasses are concave and of unusual strength. A lady whose - vision has been so extremely contracted all her life is sure to have the - physical characteristics of such vision, which are seen in the forehead, - the eyelids, and the shoulders.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” I said, “I can follow each of your arguments. I confess, however, - that I am unable to understand how you arrive at the double visit to the - optician.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes took the glasses in his hand. - </p> - <p> - “You will perceive,” he said, “that the clips are lined with tiny bands of - cork to soften the pressure upon the nose. One of these is discoloured and - worn to some slight extent, but the other is new. Evidently one has fallen - off and been replaced. I should judge that the older of them has not been - there more than a few months. They exactly correspond, so I gather that - the lady went back to the same establishment for the second.” - </p> - <p> - “By George, it’s marvellous!” cried Hopkins, in an ecstasy of admiration. - “To think that I had all that evidence in my hand and never knew it! I had - intended, however, to go the round of the London opticians.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course you would. Meanwhile, have you anything more to tell us about - the case?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing, Mr. Holmes. I think that you know as much as I do now—probably - more. We have had inquiries made as to any stranger seen on the country - roads or at the railway station. We have heard of none. What beats me is - the utter want of all object in the crime. Not a ghost of a motive can - anyone suggest.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! there I am not in a position to help you. But I suppose you want us - to come out to-morrow?” - </p> - <p> - “If it is not asking too much, Mr. Holmes. There’s a train from Charing - Cross to Chatham at six in the morning, and we should be at Yoxley Old - Place between eight and nine.” - </p> - <p> - “Then we shall take it. Your case has certainly some features of great - interest, and I shall be delighted to look into it. Well, it’s nearly one, - and we had best get a few hours’ sleep. I daresay you can manage all right - on the sofa in front of the fire. I’ll light my spirit lamp, and give you - a cup of coffee before we start.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - The gale had blown itself out next day, but it was a bitter morning when - we started upon our journey. We saw the cold winter sun rise over the - dreary marshes of the Thames and the long, sullen reaches of the river, - which I shall ever associate with our pursuit of the Andaman Islander in - the earlier days of our career. After a long and weary journey, we - alighted at a small station some miles from Chatham. While a horse was - being put into a trap at the local inn, we snatched a hurried breakfast, - and so we were all ready for business when we at last arrived at Yoxley - Old Place. A constable met us at the garden gate. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Wilson, any news?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir—nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “No reports of any stranger seen?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir. Down at the station they are certain that no stranger either - came or went yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you had inquiries made at inns and lodgings?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir: there is no one that we cannot account for.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it’s only a reasonable walk to Chatham. Anyone might stay there or - take a train without being observed. This is the garden path of which I - spoke, Mr. Holmes. I’ll pledge my word there was no mark on it yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - “On which side were the marks on the grass?” - </p> - <p> - “This side, sir. This narrow margin of grass between the path and the - flower-bed. I can’t see the traces now, but they were clear to me then.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes: someone has passed along,” said Holmes, stooping over the grass - border. “Our lady must have picked her steps carefully, must she not, - since on the one side she would leave a track on the path, and on the - other an even clearer one on the soft bed?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, she must have been a cool hand.” - </p> - <p> - I saw an intent look pass over Holmes’s face. - </p> - <p> - “You say that she must have come back this way?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, there is no other.” - </p> - <p> - “On this strip of grass?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum! It was a very remarkable performance—very remarkable. Well, I - think we have exhausted the path. Let us go farther. This garden door is - usually kept open, I suppose? Then this visitor had nothing to do but to - walk in. The idea of murder was not in her mind, or she would have - provided herself with some sort of weapon, instead of having to pick this - knife off the writing-table. She advanced along this corridor, leaving no - traces upon the cocoanut matting. Then she found herself in this study. - How long was she there? We have no means of judging.” - </p> - <p> - “Not more than a few minutes, sir. I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Marker, - the housekeeper, had been in there tidying not very long before—about - a quarter of an hour, she says.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that gives us a limit. Our lady enters this room, and what does she - do? She goes over to the writing-table. What for? Not for anything in the - drawers. If there had been anything worth her taking, it would surely have - been locked up. No, it was for something in that wooden bureau. Halloa! - what is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold a match, Watson. Why - did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?” - </p> - <p> - The mark which he was examining began upon the brass-work on the - right-hand side of the keyhole, and extended for about four inches, where - it had scratched the varnish from the surface. - </p> - <p> - “I noticed it, Mr. Holmes, but you’ll always find scratches round a - keyhole.” - </p> - <p> - “This is recent, quite recent. See how the brass shines where it is cut. - An old scratch would be the same colour as the surface. Look at it through - my lens. There’s the varnish, too, like earth on each side of a furrow. Is - Mrs. Marker there?” - </p> - <p> - A sad-faced, elderly woman came into the room. - </p> - <p> - “Did you dust this bureau yesterday morning?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you notice this scratch?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, I did not.” - </p> - <p> - “I am sure you did not, for a duster would have swept away these shreds of - varnish. Who has the key of this bureau?” - </p> - <p> - “The Professor keeps it on his watch-chain.” - </p> - <p> - “Is it a simple key?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, it is a Chubb’s key.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good. Mrs. Marker, you can go. Now we are making a little progress. - Our lady enters the room, advances to the bureau, and either opens it or - tries to do so. While she is thus engaged, young Willoughby Smith enters - the room. In her hurry to withdraw the key, she makes this scratch upon - the door. He seizes her, and she, snatching up the nearest object, which - happens to be this knife, strikes at him in order to make him let go his - hold. The blow is a fatal one. He falls and she escapes, either with or - without the object for which she has come. Is Susan, the maid, there? - Could anyone have got away through that door after the time that you heard - the cry, Susan?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, it is impossible. Before I got down the stair, I’d have seen - anyone in the passage. Besides, the door never opened, or I would have - heard it.” - </p> - <p> - “That settles this exit. Then no doubt the lady went out the way she came. - I understand that this other passage leads only to the professor’s room. - There is no exit that way?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “We shall go down it and make the acquaintance of the professor. Halloa, - Hopkins! this is very important, very important indeed. The professor’s - corridor is also lined with cocoanut matting.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, what of that?” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t you see any bearing upon the case? Well, well. I don’t insist upon - it. No doubt I am wrong. And yet it seems to me to be suggestive. Come - with me and introduce me.” - </p> - <p> - We passed down the passage, which was of the same length as that which led - to the garden. At the end was a short flight of steps ending in a door. - Our guide knocked, and then ushered us into the professor’s bedroom. - </p> - <p> - It was a very large chamber, lined with innumerable volumes, which had - overflowed from the shelves and lay in piles in the corners, or were - stacked all round at the base of the cases. The bed was in the centre of - the room, and in it, propped up with pillows, was the owner of the house. - I have seldom seen a more remarkable-looking person. It was a gaunt, - aquiline face which was turned towards us, with piercing dark eyes, which - lurked in deep hollows under overhung and tufted brows. His hair and beard - were white, save that the latter was curiously stained with yellow around - his mouth. A cigarette glowed amid the tangle of white hair, and the air - of the room was fetid with stale tobacco smoke. As he held out his hand to - Holmes, I perceived that it was also stained with yellow nicotine. - </p> - <p> - “A smoker, Mr. Holmes?” said he, speaking in well-chosen English, with a - curious little mincing accent. “Pray take a cigarette. And you, sir? I can - recommend them, for I have them especially prepared by Ionides, of - Alexandria. He sends me a thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that I - have to arrange for a fresh supply every fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad, - but an old man has few pleasures. Tobacco and my work—that is all - that is left to me.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes had lit a cigarette and was shooting little darting glances all - over the room. - </p> - <p> - “Tobacco and my work, but now only tobacco,” the old man exclaimed. “Alas! - what a fatal interruption! Who could have foreseen such a terrible - catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that, after a few - months’ training, he was an admirable assistant. What do you think of the - matter, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “I have not yet made up my mind.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall indeed be indebted to you if you can throw a light where all is - so dark to us. To a poor bookworm and invalid like myself such a blow is - paralysing. I seem to have lost the faculty of thought. But you are a man - of action—you are a man of affairs. It is part of the everyday - routine of your life. You can preserve your balance in every emergency. We - are fortunate, indeed, in having you at our side.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes was pacing up and down one side of the room whilst the old - professor was talking. I observed that he was smoking with extraordinary - rapidity. It was evident that he shared our host’s liking for the fresh - Alexandrian cigarettes. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, it is a crushing blow,” said the old man. “That is my <i>magnum - opus</i>—the pile of papers on the side table yonder. It is my analysis - of the documents found in the Coptic monasteries of Syria and Egypt, a - work which will cut deep at the very foundation of revealed religion. With - my enfeebled health I do not know whether I shall ever be able to complete - it, now that my assistant has been taken from me. Dear me! Mr. Holmes, - why, you are even a quicker smoker than I am myself.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smiled. - </p> - <p> - “I am a connoisseur,” said he, taking another cigarette from the box—his - fourth—and lighting it from the stub of that which he had finished. - “I will not trouble you with any lengthy cross-examination, Professor - Coram, since I gather that you were in bed at the time of the crime, and - could know nothing about it. I would only ask this: What do you imagine - that this poor fellow meant by his last words: ‘The professor—it was - she’?” - </p> - <p> - The professor shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “Susan is a country girl,” said he, “and you know the incredible stupidity - of that class. I fancy that the poor fellow murmured some incoherent - delirious words, and that she twisted them into this meaningless message.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. You have no explanation yourself of the tragedy?” - </p> - <p> - “Possibly an accident, possibly—I only breathe it among ourselves—a - suicide. Young men have their hidden troubles—some affair of the - heart, perhaps, which we have never known. It is a more probable - supposition than murder.” - </p> - <p> - “But the eyeglasses?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! I am only a student—a man of dreams. I cannot explain the - practical things of life. But still, we are aware, my friend, that - love-gages may take strange shapes. By all means take another cigarette. - It is a pleasure to see anyone appreciate them so. A fan, a glove, glasses—who - knows what article may be carried as a token or treasured when a man puts - an end to his life? This gentleman speaks of footsteps in the grass, but, - after all, it is easy to be mistaken on such a point. As to the knife, it - might well be thrown far from the unfortunate man as he fell. It is - possible that I speak as a child, but to me it seems that Willoughby Smith - has met his fate by his own hand.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes seemed struck by the theory thus put forward, and he continued to - walk up and down for some time, lost in thought and consuming cigarette - after cigarette. - </p> - <p> - “Tell me, Professor Coram,” he said, at last, “what is in that cupboard in - the bureau?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing that would help a thief. Family papers, letters from my poor - wife, diplomas of universities which have done me honour. Here is the key. - You can look for yourself.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes picked up the key, and looked at it for an instant, then he handed - it back. - </p> - <p> - “No, I hardly think that it would help me,” said he. “I should prefer to - go quietly down to your garden, and turn the whole matter over in my head. - There is something to be said for the theory of suicide which you have put - forward. We must apologize for having intruded upon you, Professor Coram, - and I promise that we won’t disturb you until after lunch. At two o’clock - we will come again, and report to you anything which may have happened in - the interval.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes was curiously distrait, and we walked up and down the garden path - for some time in silence. - </p> - <p> - “Have you a clue?” I asked, at last. - </p> - <p> - “It depends upon those cigarettes that I smoked,” said he. “It is possible - that I am utterly mistaken. The cigarettes will show me.” - </p> - <p> - “My dear Holmes,” I exclaimed, “how on earth——” - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, you may see for yourself. If not, there’s no harm done. Of - course, we always have the optician clue to fall back upon, but I take a - short cut when I can get it. Ah, here is the good Mrs. Marker! Let us - enjoy five minutes of instructive conversation with her.” - </p> - <p> - I may have remarked before that Holmes had, when he liked, a peculiarly - ingratiating way with women, and that he very readily established terms of - confidence with them. In half the time which he had named, he had captured - the housekeeper’s goodwill and was chatting with her as if he had known - her for years. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mr. Holmes, it is as you say, sir. He does smoke something terrible. - All day and sometimes all night, sir. I’ve seen that room of a morning—well, - sir, you’d have thought it was a London fog. Poor young Mr. Smith, he was - a smoker also, but not as bad as the professor. His health—well, I - don’t know that it’s better nor worse for the smoking.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah!” said Holmes, “but it kills the appetite.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don’t know about that, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose the professor eats hardly anything?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he is variable. I’ll say that for him.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll wager he took no breakfast this morning, and won’t face his lunch - after all the cigarettes I saw him consume.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you’re out there, sir, as it happens, for he ate a remarkable big - breakfast this morning. I don’t know when I’ve known him make a better - one, and he’s ordered a good dish of cutlets for his lunch. I’m surprised - myself, for since I came into that room yesterday and saw young Mr. Smith - lying there on the floor, I couldn’t bear to look at food. Well, it takes - all sorts to make a world, and the professor hasn’t let it take his - appetite away.” - </p> - <p> - We loitered the morning away in the garden. Stanley Hopkins had gone down - to the village to look into some rumours of a strange woman who had been - seen by some children on the Chatham Road the previous morning. As to my - friend, all his usual energy seemed to have deserted him. I had never - known him handle a case in such a half-hearted fashion. Even the news - brought back by Hopkins that he had found the children, and that they had - undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes’s description, - and wearing either spectacles or eyeglasses, failed to rouse any sign of - keen interest. He was more attentive when Susan, who waited upon us at - lunch, volunteered the information that she believed Mr. Smith had been - out for a walk yesterday morning, and that he had only returned half an - hour before the tragedy occurred. I could not myself see the bearing of - this incident, but I clearly perceived that Holmes was weaving it into the - general scheme which he had formed in his brain. Suddenly he sprang from - his chair and glanced at his watch. “Two o’clock, gentlemen,” said he. “We - must go up and have it out with our friend, the professor.” - </p> - <p> - The old man had just finished his lunch, and certainly his empty dish bore - evidence to the good appetite with which his housekeeper had credited him. - He was, indeed, a weird figure as he turned his white mane and his glowing - eyes towards us. The eternal cigarette smouldered in his mouth. He had - been dressed and was seated in an armchair by the fire. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved this mystery yet?” He shoved the large - tin of cigarettes which stood on a table beside him towards my companion. - Holmes stretched out his hand at the same moment, and between them they - tipped the box over the edge. For a minute or two we were all on our knees - retrieving stray cigarettes from impossible places. When we rose again, I - observed Holmes’s eyes were shining and his cheeks tinged with colour. - Only at a crisis have I seen those battle-signals flying. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said he, “I have solved it.” - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a sneer quivered - over the gaunt features of the old professor. - </p> - <p> - “Indeed! In the garden?” - </p> - <p> - “No, here.” - </p> - <p> - “Here! When?” - </p> - <p> - “This instant.” - </p> - <p> - “You are surely joking, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You compel me to tell you - that this is too serious a matter to be treated in such a fashion.” - </p> - <p> - “I have forged and tested every link of my chain, Professor Coram, and I - am sure that it is sound. What your motives are, or what exact part you - play in this strange business, I am not yet able to say. In a few minutes - I shall probably hear it from your own lips. Meanwhile I will reconstruct - what is past for your benefit, so that you may know the information which - I still require. - </p> - <p> - “A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with the intention of - possessing herself of certain documents which were in your bureau. She had - a key of her own. I have had an opportunity of examining yours, and I do - not find that slight discolouration which the scratch made upon the - varnish would have produced. You were not an accessory, therefore, and she - came, so far as I can read the evidence, without your knowledge to rob - you.” - </p> - <p> - The professor blew a cloud from his lips. “This is most interesting and - instructive,” said he. “Have you no more to add? Surely, having traced - this lady so far, you can also say what has become of her.” - </p> - <p> - “I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was seized by your - secretary, and stabbed him in order to escape. This catastrophe I am - inclined to regard as an unhappy accident, for I am convinced that the - lady had no intention of inflicting so grievous an injury. An assassin - does not come unarmed. Horrified by what she had done, she rushed wildly - away from the scene of the tragedy. Unfortunately for her, she had lost - her glasses in the scuffle, and as she was extremely short-sighted she was - really helpless without them. She ran down a corridor, which she imagined - to be that by which she had come—both were lined with cocoanut - matting—and it was only when it was too late that she understood - that she had taken the wrong passage, and that her retreat was cut off - behind her. What was she to do? She could not go back. She could not - remain where she was. She must go on. She went on. She mounted a stair, - pushed open a door, and found herself in your room.” - </p> - <p> - The old man sat with his mouth open, staring wildly at Holmes. Amazement - and fear were stamped upon his expressive features. Now, with an effort, - he shrugged his shoulders and burst into insincere laughter. - </p> - <p> - “All very fine, Mr. Holmes,” said he. “But there is one little flaw in - your splendid theory. I was myself in my room, and I never left it during - the day.” - </p> - <p> - “I am aware of that, Professor Coram.” - </p> - <p> - “And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not be aware that - a woman had entered my room?” - </p> - <p> - “I never said so. You <i>were</i> aware of it. You spoke with her. You recognized - her. You aided her to escape.” - </p> - <p> - Again the professor burst into high-keyed laughter. He had risen to his - feet, and his eyes glowed like embers. - </p> - <p> - “You are mad!” he cried. “You are talking insanely. I helped her to - escape? Where is she now?” - </p> - <p> - “She is there,” said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcase in the - corner of the room. - </p> - <p> - I saw the old man throw up his arms, a terrible convulsion passed over his - grim face, and he fell back in his chair. At the same instant the bookcase - at which Holmes pointed swung round upon a hinge, and a woman rushed out - into the room. “You are right!” she cried, in a strange foreign voice. - “You are right! I am here.” - </p> - <p> - She was brown with the dust and draped with the cobwebs which had come - from the walls of her hiding-place. Her face, too, was streaked with - grime, and at the best she could never have been handsome, for she had the - exact physical characteristics which Holmes had divined, with, in - addition, a long and obstinate chin. What with her natural blindness, and - what with the change from dark to light, she stood as one dazed, blinking - about her to see where and who we were. And yet, in spite of all these - disadvantages, there was a certain nobility in the woman’s bearing—a - gallantry in the defiant chin and in the upraised head, which compelled - something of respect and admiration. - </p> - <p> - Stanley Hopkins had laid his hand upon her arm and claimed her as his - prisoner, but she waved him aside gently, and yet with an over-mastering - dignity which compelled obedience. The old man lay back in his chair with - a twitching face, and stared at her with brooding eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I am your prisoner,” she said. “From where I stood I could hear - everything, and I know that you have learned the truth. I confess it all. - It was I who killed the young man. But you are right—you who say it - was an accident. I did not even know that it was a knife which I held in - my hand, for in my despair I snatched anything from the table and struck - at him to make him let me go. It is the truth that I tell.” - </p> - <p> - “Madam,” said Holmes, “I am sure that it is the truth. I fear that you are - far from well.” - </p> - <p> - She had turned a dreadful colour, the more ghastly under the dark - dust-streaks upon her face. She seated herself on the side of the bed; - then she resumed. - </p> - <p> - “I have only a little time here,” she said, “but I would have you to know - the whole truth. I am this man’s wife. He is not an Englishman. He is a - Russian. His name I will not tell.” - </p> - <p> - For the first time the old man stirred. “God bless you, Anna!” he cried. - “God bless you!” - </p> - <p> - She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction. “Why should you - cling so hard to that wretched life of yours, Sergius?” said she. “It has - done harm to many and good to none—not even to yourself. However, it - is not for me to cause the frail thread to be snapped before God’s time. I - have enough already upon my soul since I crossed the threshold of this - cursed house. But I must speak or I shall be too late. - </p> - <p> - “I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man’s wife. He was fifty and I a - foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was in a city of Russia, a - university—I will not name the place.” - </p> - <p> - “God bless you, Anna!” murmured the old man again. - </p> - <p> - “We were reformers—revolutionists—Nihilists, you understand. - He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble, a police - officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was wanted, and in order - to save his own life and to earn a great reward, my husband betrayed his - own wife and his companions. Yes, we were all arrested upon his - confession. Some of us found our way to the gallows, and some to Siberia. - I was among these last, but my term was not for life. My husband came to - England with his ill-gotten gains and has lived in quiet ever since, - knowing well that if the Brotherhood knew where he was not a week would - pass before justice would be done.” - </p> - <p> - The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself to a - cigarette. “I am in your hands, Anna,” said he. “You were always good to - me.” - </p> - <p> - “I have not yet told you the height of his villainy,” said she. “Among our - comrades of the Order, there was one who was the friend of my heart. He - was noble, unselfish, loving—all that my husband was not. He hated - violence. We were all guilty—if that is guilt—but he was not. - He wrote forever dissuading us from such a course. These letters would - have saved him. So would my diary, in which, from day to day, I had - entered both my feelings towards him and the view which each of us had - taken. My husband found and kept both diary and letters. He hid them, and - he tried hard to swear away the young man’s life. In this he failed, but - Alexis was sent a convict to Siberia, where now, at this moment, he works - in a salt mine. Think of that, you villain, you villain!—now, now, - at this very moment, Alexis, a man whose name you are not worthy to speak, - works and lives like a slave, and yet I have your life in my hands, and I - let you go.” - </p> - <p> - “You were always a noble woman, Anna,” said the old man, puffing at his - cigarette. - </p> - <p> - She had risen, but she fell back again with a little cry of pain. - </p> - <p> - “I must finish,” she said. “When my term was over I set myself to get the - diary and letters which, if sent to the Russian government, would procure - my friend’s release. I knew that my husband had come to England. After - months of searching I discovered where he was. I knew that he still had - the diary, for when I was in Siberia I had a letter from him once, - reproaching me and quoting some passages from its pages. Yet I was sure - that, with his revengeful nature, he would never give it to me of his own - free-will. I must get it for myself. With this object I engaged an agent - from a private detective firm, who entered my husband’s house as a - secretary—it was your second secretary, Sergius, the one who left - you so hurriedly. He found that papers were kept in the cupboard, and he - got an impression of the key. He would not go farther. He furnished me - with a plan of the house, and he told me that in the forenoon the study - was always empty, as the secretary was employed up here. So at last I took - my courage in both hands, and I came down to get the papers for myself. I - succeeded; but at what a cost! - </p> - <p> - “I had just taken the paper; and was locking the cupboard, when the young - man seized me. I had seen him already that morning. He had met me on the - road, and I had asked him to tell me where Professor Coram lived, not - knowing that he was in his employ.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly! Exactly!” said Holmes. “The secretary came back, and told his - employer of the woman he had met. Then, in his last breath, he tried to - send a message that it was she—the she whom he had just discussed - with him.” - </p> - <p> - “You must let me speak,” said the woman, in an imperative voice, and her - face contracted as if in pain. “When he had fallen I rushed from the room, - chose the wrong door, and found myself in my husband’s room. He spoke of - giving me up. I showed him that if he did so, his life was in my hands. If - he gave me to the law, I could give him to the Brotherhood. It was not - that I wished to live for my own sake, but it was that I desired to - accomplish my purpose. He knew that I would do what I said—that his - own fate was involved in mine. For that reason, and for no other, he - shielded me. He thrust me into that dark hiding-place—a relic of old - days, known only to himself. He took his meals in his own room, and so was - able to give me part of his food. It was agreed that when the police left - the house I should slip away by night and come back no more. But in some - way you have read our plans.” She tore from the bosom of her dress a small - packet. “These are my last words,” said she; “here is the packet which - will save Alexis. I confide it to your honour and to your love of justice. - Take it! You will deliver it at the Russian Embassy. Now, I have done my - duty, and——” - </p> - <p> - “Stop her!” cried Holmes. He had bounded across the room and had wrenched - a small phial from her hand. - </p> - <p> - “Too late!” she said, sinking back on the bed. “Too late! I took the - poison before I left my hiding-place. My head swims! I am going! I charge - you, sir, to remember the packet.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - “A simple case, and yet, in some ways, an instructive one,” Holmes - remarked, as we travelled back to town. “It hinged from the outset upon - the pince-nez. But for the fortunate chance of the dying man having seized - these, I am not sure that we could ever have reached our solution. It was - clear to me, from the strength of the glasses, that the wearer must have - been very blind and helpless when deprived of them. When you asked me to - believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass without once making - a false step, I remarked, as you may remember, that it was a noteworthy - performance. In my mind I set it down as an impossible performance, save - in the unlikely case that she had a second pair of glasses. I was forced, - therefore, to consider seriously the hypothesis that she had remained - within the house. On perceiving the similarity of the two corridors, it - became clear that she might very easily have made such a mistake, and, in - that case, it was evident that she must have entered the professor’s room. - I was keenly on the alert, therefore, for whatever would bear out this - supposition, and I examined the room narrowly for anything in the shape of - a hiding-place. The carpet seemed continuous and firmly nailed, so I - dismissed the idea of a trap-door. There might well be a recess behind the - books. As you are aware, such devices are common in old libraries. I - observed that books were piled on the floor at all other points, but that - one bookcase was left clear. This, then, might be the door. I could see no - marks to guide me, but the carpet was of a dun colour, which lends itself - very well to examination. I therefore smoked a great number of those - excellent cigarettes, and I dropped the ash all over the space in front of - the suspected bookcase. It was a simple trick, but exceedingly effective. - I then went downstairs, and I ascertained, in your presence, Watson, - without your perceiving the drift of my remarks, that Professor Coram’s - consumption of food had increased—as one would expect when he is - supplying a second person. We then ascended to the room again, when, by - upsetting the cigarette-box, I obtained a very excellent view of the - floor, and was able to see quite clearly, from the traces upon the - cigarette ash, that the prisoner had in our absence come out from her - retreat. Well, Hopkins, here we are at Charing Cross, and I congratulate - you on having brought your case to a successful conclusion. You are going - to headquarters, no doubt. I think, Watson, you and I will drive together - to the Russian Embassy.” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap11"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING THREE-QUARTER</h2> - - <p> - We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but - I have a particular recollection of one which reached us on a gloomy - February morning, some seven or eight years ago, and gave Mr. Sherlock - Holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. It was addressed to him, and ran - thus: - </p> - <p> - Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quarter missing, - indispensable to-morrow. OVERTON. - </p> - <p> - “Strand postmark, and dispatched ten thirty-six,” said Holmes, reading it - over and over. “Mr. Overton was evidently considerably excited when he - sent it, and somewhat incoherent in consequence. Well, well, he will be - here, I daresay, by the time I have looked through <i>The Times</i>, and then we - shall know all about it. Even the most insignificant problem would be - welcome in these stagnant days.” - </p> - <p> - Things had indeed been very slow with us, and I had learned to dread such - periods of inaction, for I knew by experience that my companion’s brain - was so abnormally active that it was dangerous to leave it without - material upon which to work. For years I had gradually weaned him from - that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkable career. - Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer craved for this - artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead but - sleeping, and I have known that the sleep was a light one and the waking - near when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawn look upon Holmes’s - ascetic face, and the brooding of his deep-set and inscrutable eyes. - Therefore I blessed this Mr. Overton whoever he might be, since he had - come with his enigmatic message to break that dangerous calm which brought - more peril to my friend than all the storms of his tempestuous life. - </p> - <p> - As we had expected, the telegram was soon followed by its sender, and the - card of Mr. Cyril Overton, Trinity College, Cambridge, announced the - arrival of an enormous young man, sixteen stone of solid bone and muscle, - who spanned the doorway with his broad shoulders, and looked from one of - us to the other with a comely face which was haggard with anxiety. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - My companion bowed. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes. I saw Inspector Stanley - Hopkins. He advised me to come to you. He said the case, so far as he - could see, was more in your line than in that of the regular police.” - </p> - <p> - “Pray sit down and tell me what is the matter.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s awful, Mr. Holmes—simply awful! I wonder my hair isn’t grey. - Godfrey Staunton—you’ve heard of him, of course? He’s simply the - hinge that the whole team turns on. I’d rather spare two from the pack, - and have Godfrey for my three-quarter line. Whether it’s passing, or - tackling, or dribbling, there’s no one to touch him, and then, he’s got - the head, and can hold us all together. What am I to do? That’s what I ask - you, Mr. Holmes. There’s Moorhouse, first reserve, but he is trained as a - half, and he always edges right in on to the scrum instead of keeping out - on the touchline. He’s a fine place-kick, it’s true, but then he has no - judgment, and he can’t sprint for nuts. Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford - fliers, could romp round him. Stevenson is fast enough, but he couldn’t - drop from the twenty-five line, and a three-quarter who can’t either punt - or drop isn’t worth a place for pace alone. No, Mr. Holmes, we are done - unless you can help me to find Godfrey Staunton.” - </p> - <p> - My friend had listened with amused surprise to this long speech, which was - poured forth with extraordinary vigour and earnestness, every point being - driven home by the slapping of a brawny hand upon the speaker’s knee. When - our visitor was silent Holmes stretched out his hand and took down letter - “S” of his commonplace book. For once he dug in vain into that mine of - varied information. - </p> - <p> - “There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger,” said he, “and - there was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang, but Godfrey Staunton is a - new name to me.” - </p> - <p> - It was our visitor’s turn to look surprised. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Mr. Holmes, I thought you knew things,” said he. “I suppose, then, - if you have never heard of Godfrey Staunton, you don’t know Cyril Overton - either?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes shook his head good humouredly. - </p> - <p> - “Great Scott!” cried the athlete. “Why, I was first reserve for England - against Wales, and I’ve skippered the ’Varsity all this year. But that’s - nothing! I didn’t think there was a soul in England who didn’t know - Godfrey Staunton, the crack three-quarter, Cambridge, Blackheath, and five - Internationals. Good Lord! Mr. Holmes, where <i>have</i> you lived?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes laughed at the young giant’s naïve astonishment. - </p> - <p> - “You live in a different world to me, Mr. Overton—a sweeter and - healthier one. My ramifications stretch out into many sections of society, - but never, I am happy to say, into amateur sport, which is the best and - soundest thing in England. However, your unexpected visit this morning - shows me that even in that world of fresh air and fair play, there may be - work for me to do. So now, my good sir, I beg you to sit down and to tell - me, slowly and quietly, exactly what it is that has occurred, and how you - desire that I should help you.” - </p> - <p> - Young Overton’s face assumed the bothered look of the man who is more - accustomed to using his muscles than his wits, but by degrees, with many - repetitions and obscurities which I may omit from his narrative, he laid - his strange story before us. - </p> - <p> - “It’s this way, Mr. Holmes. As I have said, I am the skipper of the Rugger - team of Cambridge ’Varsity, and Godfrey Staunton is my best man. To-morrow - we play Oxford. Yesterday we all came up, and we settled at Bentley’s - private hotel. At ten o’clock I went round and saw that all the fellows - had gone to roost, for I believe in strict training and plenty of sleep to - keep a team fit. I had a word or two with Godfrey before he turned in. He - seemed to me to be pale and bothered. I asked him what was the matter. He - said he was all right—just a touch of headache. I bade him - good-night and left him. Half an hour later, the porter tells me that a - rough-looking man with a beard called with a note for Godfrey. He had not - gone to bed, and the note was taken to his room. Godfrey read it, and fell - back in a chair as if he had been pole-axed. The porter was so scared that - he was going to fetch me, but Godfrey stopped him, had a drink of water, - and pulled himself together. Then he went downstairs, said a few words to - the man who was waiting in the hall, and the two of them went off - together. The last that the porter saw of them, they were almost running - down the street in the direction of the Strand. This morning Godfrey’s - room was empty, his bed had never been slept in, and his things were all - just as I had seen them the night before. He had gone off at a moment’s - notice with this stranger, and no word has come from him since. I don’t - believe he will ever come back. He was a sportsman, was Godfrey, down to - his marrow, and he wouldn’t have stopped his training and let in his - skipper if it were not for some cause that was too strong for him. No: I - feel as if he were gone for good, and we should never see him again.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes listened with the deepest attention to this singular - narrative. - </p> - <p> - “What did you do?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “I wired to Cambridge to learn if anything had been heard of him there. I - have had an answer. No one has seen him.” - </p> - <p> - “Could he have got back to Cambridge?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there is a late train—quarter-past eleven.” - </p> - <p> - “But, so far as you can ascertain, he did not take it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he has not been seen.” - </p> - <p> - “What did you do next?” - </p> - <p> - “I wired to Lord Mount-James.” - </p> - <p> - “Why to Lord Mount-James?” - </p> - <p> - “Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest relative—his - uncle, I believe.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed. This throws new light upon the matter. Lord Mount-James is one of - the richest men in England.” - </p> - <p> - “So I’ve heard Godfrey say.” - </p> - <p> - “And your friend was closely related?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty—cram full of - gout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles. He - never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolute miser, - but it will all come to him right enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you heard from Lord Mount-James?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “What motive could your friend have in going to Lord Mount-James?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, something was worrying him the night before, and if it was to do - with money it is possible that he would make for his nearest relative, who - had so much of it, though from all I have heard he would not have much - chance of getting it. Godfrey was not fond of the old man. He would not go - if he could help it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we can soon determine that. If your friend was going to his - relative, Lord Mount-James, you have then to explain the visit of this - rough-looking fellow at so late an hour, and the agitation that was caused - by his coming.” - </p> - <p> - Cyril Overton pressed his hands to his head. “I can make nothing of it,” - said he. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, I have a clear day, and I shall be happy to look into the - matter,” said Holmes. “I should strongly recommend you to make your - preparations for your match without reference to this young gentleman. It - must, as you say, have been an overpowering necessity which tore him away - in such a fashion, and the same necessity is likely to hold him away. Let - us step round together to the hotel, and see if the porter can throw any - fresh light upon the matter.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes was a past-master in the art of putting a humble witness - at his ease, and very soon, in the privacy of Godfrey Staunton’s abandoned - room, he had extracted all that the porter had to tell. The visitor of the - night before was not a gentleman, neither was he a workingman. He was - simply what the porter described as a “medium-looking chap,” a man of - fifty, beard grizzled, pale face, quietly dressed. He seemed himself to be - agitated. The porter had observed his hand trembling when he had held out - the note. Godfrey Staunton had crammed the note into his pocket. Staunton - had not shaken hands with the man in the hall. They had exchanged a few - sentences, of which the porter had only distinguished the one word “time.” - Then they had hurried off in the manner described. It was just half-past - ten by the hall clock. - </p> - <p> - “Let me see,” said Holmes, seating himself on Staunton’s bed. “You are the - day porter, are you not?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I go off duty at eleven.” - </p> - <p> - “The night porter saw nothing, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, one theatre party came in late. No one else.” - </p> - <p> - “Were you on duty all day yesterday?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you take any messages to Mr. Staunton?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, one telegram.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah! that’s interesting. What o’clock was this?” - </p> - <p> - “About six.” - </p> - <p> - “Where was Mr. Staunton when he received it?” - </p> - <p> - “Here in his room.” - </p> - <p> - “Were you present when he opened it?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I waited to see if there was an answer.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, was there?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, he wrote an answer.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you take it?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he took it himself.” - </p> - <p> - “But he wrote it in your presence.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir. I was standing by the door, and he with his back turned at that - table. When he had written it, he said: ‘All right, porter, I will take - this myself.’” - </p> - <p> - “What did he write it with?” - </p> - <p> - “A pen, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Was the telegraphic form one of these on the table?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, it was the top one.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes rose. Taking the forms, he carried them over to the window and - carefully examined that which was uppermost. - </p> - <p> - “It is a pity he did not write in pencil,” said he, throwing them down - again with a shrug of disappointment. “As you have no doubt frequently - observed, Watson, the impression usually goes through—a fact which - has dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I - rejoice, however, to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quill - pen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon this - blotting-pad. Ah, yes, surely this is the very thing!” - </p> - <p> - He tore off a strip of the blotting-paper and turned towards us the - following hieroglyphic: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img11.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="hieroglyphic"> - </div> - - <p> - Cyril Overton was much excited. “Hold it to the glass!” he cried. - </p> - <p> - “That is unnecessary,” said Holmes. “The paper is thin, and the reverse - will give the message. Here it is.” He turned it over, and we read: - </p> - - <div class="fig" style="width:80%;"> - <img src="images/img12.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="the reverse"> - </div> - - <p> - “So that is the tail end of the telegram which Godfrey Staunton dispatched - within a few hours of his disappearance. There are at least six words of - the message which have escaped us; but what remains—‘Stand by us for - God’s sake!’—proves that this young man saw a formidable danger - which approached him, and from which someone else could protect him. ‘<i>Us</i>,’ - mark you! Another person was involved. Who should it be but the - pale-faced, bearded man, who seemed himself in so nervous a state? What, - then, is the connection between Godfrey Staunton and the bearded man? And - what is the third source from which each of them sought for help against - pressing danger? Our inquiry has already narrowed down to that.” - </p> - <p> - “We have only to find to whom that telegram is addressed,” I suggested. - </p> - <p> - “Exactly, my dear Watson. Your reflection, though profound, had already - crossed my mind. But I daresay it may have come to your notice that, - counterfoil of another man’s message, there may be some disinclination on - the part of the officials to oblige you. There is so much red tape in - these matters. However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and - finesse the end may be attained. Meanwhile, I should like in your - presence, Mr. Overton, to go through these papers which have been left - upon the table.” - </p> - <p> - There were a number of letters, bills, and notebooks, which Holmes turned - over and examined with quick, nervous fingers and darting, penetrating - eyes. “Nothing here,” he said, at last. “By the way, I suppose your friend - was a healthy young fellow—nothing amiss with him?” - </p> - <p> - “Sound as a bell.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you ever known him ill?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a day. He has been laid up with a hack, and once he slipped his - knee-cap, but that was nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps he was not so strong as you suppose. I should think he may have - had some secret trouble. With your assent, I will put one or two of these - papers in my pocket, in case they should bear upon our future inquiry.” - </p> - <p> - “One moment—one moment!” cried a querulous voice, and we looked up - to find a queer little old man, jerking and twitching in the doorway. He - was dressed in rusty black, with a very broad-brimmed top-hat and a loose - white necktie—the whole effect being that of a very rustic parson or - of an undertaker’s mute. Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurd - appearance, his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quick - intensity which commanded attention. - </p> - <p> - “Who are you, sir, and by what right do you touch this gentleman’s - papers?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “I am a private detective, and I am endeavouring to explain his - disappearance.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you are, are you? And who instructed you, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “This gentleman, Mr. Staunton’s friend, was referred to me by Scotland - Yard.” - </p> - <p> - “Who are you, sir?” - </p> - <p> - “I am Cyril Overton.” - </p> - <p> - “Then it is you who sent me a telegram. My name is Lord Mount-James. I - came round as quickly as the Bayswater bus would bring me. So you have - instructed a detective?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “And are you prepared to meet the cost?” - </p> - <p> - “I have no doubt, sir, that my friend Godfrey, when we find him, will be - prepared to do that.” - </p> - <p> - “But if he is never found, eh? Answer me that!” - </p> - <p> - “In that case, no doubt his family——” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing of the sort, sir!” screamed the little man. “Don’t look to me for - a penny—not a penny! You understand that, Mr. Detective! I am all - the family that this young man has got, and I tell you that I am not - responsible. If he has any expectations it is due to the fact that I have - never wasted money, and I do not propose to begin to do so now. As to - those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you that in - case there should be anything of any value among them, you will be held - strictly to account for what you do with them.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good, sir,” said Sherlock Holmes. “May I ask, in the meanwhile, - whether you have yourself any theory to account for this young man’s - disappearance?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, I have not. He is big enough and old enough to look after - himself, and if he is so foolish as to lose himself, I entirely refuse to - accept the responsibility of hunting for him.” - </p> - <p> - “I quite understand your position,” said Holmes, with a mischievous - twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps you don’t quite understand mine. Godfrey - Staunton appears to have been a poor man. If he has been kidnapped, it - could not have been for anything which he himself possesses. The fame of - your wealth has gone abroad, Lord Mount-James, and it is entirely possible - that a gang of thieves have secured your nephew in order to gain from him - some information as to your house, your habits, and your treasure.” - </p> - <p> - The face of our unpleasant little visitor turned as white as his - neckcloth. - </p> - <p> - “Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy! What - inhuman rogues there are in the world! But Godfrey is a fine lad—a - staunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away. I’ll - have the plate moved over to the bank this evening. In the meantime spare - no pains, Mr. Detective! I beg you to leave no stone unturned to bring him - safely back. As to money, well, so far as a fiver or even a tenner goes - you can always look to me.” - </p> - <p> - Even in his chastened frame of mind, the noble miser could give us no - information which could help us, for he knew little of the private life of - his nephew. Our only clue lay in the truncated telegram, and with a copy - of this in his hand Holmes set forth to find a second link for his chain. - We had shaken off Lord Mount-James, and Overton had gone to consult with - the other members of his team over the misfortune which had befallen them. - </p> - <p> - There was a telegraph-office at a short distance from the hotel. We halted - outside it. - </p> - <p> - “It’s worth trying, Watson,” said Holmes. “Of course, with a warrant we - could demand to see the counterfoils, but we have not reached that stage - yet. I don’t suppose they remember faces in so busy a place. Let us - venture it.” - </p> - <p> - “I am sorry to trouble you,” said he, in his blandest manner, to the young - woman behind the grating; “there is some small mistake about a telegram I - sent yesterday. I have had no answer, and I very much fear that I must - have omitted to put my name at the end. Could you tell me if this was so?” - </p> - <p> - The young woman turned over a sheaf of counterfoils. - </p> - <p> - “What o’clock was it?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “A little after six.” - </p> - <p> - “Whom was it to?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes put his finger to his lips and glanced at me. “The last words in it - were ‘For God’s sake,’” he whispered, confidentially; “I am very anxious - at getting no answer.” - </p> - <p> - The young woman separated one of the forms. - </p> - <p> - “This is it. There is no name,” said she, smoothing it out upon the - counter. - </p> - <p> - “Then that, of course, accounts for my getting no answer,” said Holmes. - “Dear me, how very stupid of me, to be sure! Good-morning, miss, and many - thanks for having relieved my mind.” He chuckled and rubbed his hands when - we found ourselves in the street once more. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “We progress, my dear Watson, we progress. I had seven different schemes - for getting a glimpse of that telegram, but I could hardly hope to succeed - the very first time.” - </p> - <p> - “And what have you gained?” - </p> - <p> - “A starting-point for our investigation.” He hailed a cab. “King’s Cross - Station,” said he. - </p> - <p> - “We have a journey, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I think we must run down to Cambridge together. All the indications - seem to me to point in that direction.” - </p> - <p> - “Tell me,” I asked, as we rattled up Gray’s Inn Road, “have you any - suspicion yet as to the cause of the disappearance? I don’t think that - among all our cases I have known one where the motives are more obscure. - Surely you don’t really imagine that he may be kidnapped in order to give - information against his wealthy uncle?” - </p> - <p> - “I confess, my dear Watson, that that does not appeal to me as a very - probable explanation. It struck me, however, as being the one which was - most likely to interest that exceedingly unpleasant old person.” - </p> - <p> - “It certainly did that; but what are your alternatives?” - </p> - <p> - “I could mention several. You must admit that it is curious and suggestive - that this incident should occur on the eve of this important match, and - should involve the only man whose presence seems essential to the success - of the side. It may, of course, be a coincidence, but it is interesting. - Amateur sport is free from betting, but a good deal of outside betting - goes on among the public, and it is possible that it might be worth - someone’s while to get at a player as the ruffians of the turf get at a - race-horse. There is one explanation. A second very obvious one is that - this young man really is the heir of a great property, however modest his - means may at present be, and it is not impossible that a plot to hold him - for ransom might be concocted.” - </p> - <p> - “These theories take no account of the telegram.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite true, Watson. The telegram still remains the only solid thing with - which we have to deal, and we must not permit our attention to wander away - from it. It is to gain light upon the purpose of this telegram that we are - now upon our way to Cambridge. The path of our investigation is at present - obscure, but I shall be very much surprised if before evening we have not - cleared it up, or made a considerable advance along it.” - </p> - <p> - It was already dark when we reached the old university city. Holmes took a - cab at the station and ordered the man to drive to the house of Dr. Leslie - Armstrong. A few minutes later, we had stopped at a large mansion in the - busiest thoroughfare. We were shown in, and after a long wait were at last - admitted into the consulting-room, where we found the doctor seated behind - his table. - </p> - <p> - It argues the degree in which I had lost touch with my profession that the - name of Leslie Armstrong was unknown to me. Now I am aware that he is not - only one of the heads of the medical school of the university, but a - thinker of European reputation in more than one branch of science. Yet - even without knowing his brilliant record one could not fail to be - impressed by a mere glance at the man, the square, massive face, the - brooding eyes under the thatched brows, and the granite moulding of the - inflexible jaw. A man of deep character, a man with an alert mind, grim, - ascetic, self-contained, formidable—so I read Dr. Leslie Armstrong. - He held my friend’s card in his hand, and he looked up with no very - pleased expression upon his dour features. - </p> - <p> - “I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware of your - profession—one of which I by no means approve.” - </p> - <p> - “In that, Doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with every criminal - in the country,” said my friend, quietly. - </p> - <p> - “So far as your efforts are directed towards the suppression of crime, - sir, they must have the support of every reasonable member of the - community, though I cannot doubt that the official machinery is amply - sufficient for the purpose. Where your calling is more open to criticism - is when you pry into the secrets of private individuals, when you rake up - family matters which are better hidden, and when you incidentally waste - the time of men who are more busy than yourself. At the present moment, - for example, I should be writing a treatise instead of conversing with - you.” - </p> - <p> - “No doubt, Doctor; and yet the conversation may prove more important than - the treatise. Incidentally, I may tell you that we are doing the reverse - of what you very justly blame, and that we are endeavouring to prevent - anything like public exposure of private matters which must necessarily - follow when once the case is fairly in the hands of the official police. - You may look upon me simply as an irregular pioneer, who goes in front of - the regular forces of the country. I have come to ask you about Mr. - Godfrey Staunton.” - </p> - <p> - “What about him?” - </p> - <p> - “You know him, do you not?” - </p> - <p> - “He is an intimate friend of mine.” - </p> - <p> - “You are aware that he has disappeared?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, indeed!” There was no change of expression in the rugged features of - the doctor. - </p> - <p> - “He left his hotel last night—he has not been heard of.” - </p> - <p> - “No doubt he will return.” - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow is the ’Varsity football match.” - </p> - <p> - “I have no sympathy with these childish games. The young man’s fate - interests me deeply, since I know him and like him. The football match - does not come within my horizon at all.” - </p> - <p> - “I claim your sympathy, then, in my investigation of Mr. Staunton’s fate. - Do you know where he is?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “You have not seen him since yesterday?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I have not.” - </p> - <p> - “Was Mr. Staunton a healthy man?” - </p> - <p> - “Absolutely.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you ever know him ill?” - </p> - <p> - “Never.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes popped a sheet of paper before the doctor’s eyes. “Then perhaps you - will explain this receipted bill for thirteen guineas, paid by Mr. Godfrey - Staunton last month to Dr. Leslie Armstrong, of Cambridge. I picked it out - from among the papers upon his desk.” - </p> - <p> - The doctor flushed with anger. - </p> - <p> - “I do not feel that there is any reason why I should render an explanation - to you, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes replaced the bill in his notebook. “If you prefer a public - explanation, it must come sooner or later,” said he. “I have already told - you that I can hush up that which others will be bound to publish, and you - would really be wiser to take me into your complete confidence.” - </p> - <p> - “I know nothing about it.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you hear from Mr. Staunton in London?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “Dear me, dear me—the postoffice again!” Holmes sighed, wearily. “A - most urgent telegram was dispatched to you from London by Godfrey Staunton - at six-fifteen yesterday evening—a telegram which is undoubtedly - associated with his disappearance—and yet you have not had it. It is - most culpable. I shall certainly go down to the office here and register a - complaint.” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Leslie Armstrong sprang up from behind his desk, and his dark face was - crimson with fury. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir,” said he. “You can tell - your employer, Lord Mount-James, that I do not wish to have anything to do - either with him or with his agents. No, sir—not another word!” He - rang the bell furiously. “John, show these gentlemen out!” A pompous - butler ushered us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in the - street. Holmes burst out laughing. - </p> - <p> - “Dr. Leslie Armstrong is certainly a man of energy and character,” said - he. “I have not seen a man who, if he turns his talents that way, was more - calculated to fill the gap left by the illustrious Moriarty. And now, my - poor Watson, here we are, stranded and friendless in this inhospitable - town, which we cannot leave without abandoning our case. This little inn - just opposite Armstrong’s house is singularly adapted to our needs. If you - would engage a front room and purchase the necessaries for the night, I - may have time to make a few inquiries.” - </p> - <p> - These few inquiries proved, however, to be a more lengthy proceeding than - Holmes had imagined, for he did not return to the inn until nearly nine - o’clock. He was pale and dejected, stained with dust, and exhausted with - hunger and fatigue. A cold supper was ready upon the table, and when his - needs were satisfied and his pipe alight he was ready to take that half - comic and wholly philosophic view which was natural to him when his - affairs were going awry. The sound of carriage wheels caused him to rise - and glance out of the window. A brougham and pair of greys, under the - glare of a gas-lamp, stood before the doctor’s door. - </p> - <p> - “It’s been out three hours,” said Holmes; “started at half-past six, and - here it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or twelve miles, and he - does it once, or sometimes twice, a day.” - </p> - <p> - “No unusual thing for a doctor in practice.” - </p> - <p> - “But Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice. He is a lecturer and a - consultant, but he does not care for general practice, which distracts him - from his literary work. Why, then, does he make these long journeys, which - must be exceedingly irksome to him, and who is it that he visits?” - </p> - <p> - “His coachman——” - </p> - <p> - “My dear Watson, can you doubt that it was to him that I first applied? I - do not know whether it came from his own innate depravity or from the - promptings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dog at me. - Neither dog nor man liked the look of my stick, however, and the matter - fell through. Relations were strained after that, and further inquiries - out of the question. All that I have learned I got from a friendly native - in the yard of our own inn. It was he who told me of the doctor’s habits - and of his daily journey. At that instant, to give point to his words, the - carriage came round to the door.” - </p> - <p> - “Could you not follow it?” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening. The idea did cross - my mind. There is, as you may have observed, a bicycle shop next to our - inn. Into this I rushed, engaged a bicycle, and was able to get started - before the carriage was quite out of sight. I rapidly overtook it, and - then, keeping at a discreet distance of a hundred yards or so, I followed - its lights until we were clear of the town. We had got well out on the - country road, when a somewhat mortifying incident occurred. The carriage - stopped, the doctor alighted, walked swiftly back to where I had also - halted, and told me in an excellent sardonic fashion that he feared the - road was narrow, and that he hoped his carriage did not impede the passage - of my bicycle. Nothing could have been more admirable than his way of - putting it. I at once rode past the carriage, and, keeping to the main - road, I went on for a few miles, and then halted in a convenient place to - see if the carriage passed. There was no sign of it, however, and so it - became evident that it had turned down one of several side roads which I - had observed. I rode back, but again saw nothing of the carriage, and now, - as you perceive, it has returned after me. Of course, I had at the outset - no particular reason to connect these journeys with the disappearance of - Godfrey Staunton, and was only inclined to investigate them on the general - grounds that everything which concerns Dr. Armstrong is at present of - interest to us, but, now that I find he keeps so keen a look-out upon - anyone who may follow him on these excursions, the affair appears more - important, and I shall not be satisfied until I have made the matter - clear.” - </p> - <p> - “We can follow him to-morrow.” - </p> - <p> - “Can we? It is not so easy as you seem to think. You are not familiar with - Cambridgeshire scenery, are you? It does not lend itself to concealment. - All this country that I passed over to-night is as flat and clean as the - palm of your hand, and the man we are following is no fool, as he very - clearly showed to-night. I have wired to Overton to let us know any fresh - London developments at this address, and in the meantime we can only - concentrate our attention upon Dr. Armstrong, whose name the obliging - young lady at the office allowed me to read upon the counterfoil of - Staunton’s urgent message. He knows where the young man is—to that - I’ll swear, and if he knows, then it must be our own fault if we cannot - manage to know also. At present it must be admitted that the odd trick is - in his possession, and, as you are aware, Watson, it is not my habit to - leave the game in that condition.” - </p> - <p> - And yet the next day brought us no nearer to the solution of the mystery. - A note was handed in after breakfast, which Holmes passed across to me - with a smile. - </p> - <p class="letter"> - SIR [it ran],—I can assure you that you are wasting your time in - dogging my movements. I have, as you discovered last night, a window at - the back of my brougham, and if you desire a twenty-mile ride which will - lead you to the spot from which you started, you have only to follow me. - Meanwhile, I can inform you that no spying upon me can in any way help - Mr. Godfrey Staunton, and I am convinced that the best service you can do - to that gentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your - employer that you are unable to trace him. Your time in Cambridge will - certainly be wasted. - </p> - <p class="right"> - Yours faithfully,<br> - LESLIE ARMSTRONG. - </p> - <p> - “An outspoken, honest antagonist is the doctor,” said Holmes. “Well, well, - he excites my curiosity, and I must really know before I leave him.” - </p> - <p> - “His carriage is at his door now,” said I. “There he is stepping into it. - I saw him glance up at our window as he did so. Suppose I try my luck upon - the bicycle?” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, my dear Watson! With all respect for your natural acumen, I do - not think that you are quite a match for the worthy doctor. I think that - possibly I can attain our end by some independent explorations of my own. - I am afraid that I must leave you to your own devices, as the appearance - of <i>two</i> inquiring strangers upon a sleepy countryside might excite more - gossip than I care for. No doubt you will find some sights to amuse you in - this venerable city, and I hope to bring back a more favourable report to - you before evening.” - </p> - <p> - Once more, however, my friend was destined to be disappointed. He came - back at night weary and unsuccessful. - </p> - <p> - “I have had a blank day, Watson. Having got the doctor’s general - direction, I spent the day in visiting all the villages upon that side of - Cambridge, and comparing notes with publicans and other local news - agencies. I have covered some ground. Chesterton, Histon, Waterbeach, and - Oakington have each been explored, and have each proved disappointing. The - daily appearance of a brougham and pair could hardly have been overlooked - in such Sleepy Hollows. The doctor has scored once more. Is there a - telegram for me?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I opened it. Here it is: - </p> - <p> - “Ask for Pompey from Jeremy Dixon, Trinity College.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t understand it.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it is clear enough. It is from our friend Overton, and is in answer - to a question from me. I’ll just send round a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon, - and then I have no doubt that our luck will turn. By the way, is there any - news of the match?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, the local evening paper has an excellent account in its last - edition. Oxford won by a goal and two tries. The last sentences of the - description say: - </p> - <p> - “‘The defeat of the Light Blues may be entirely attributed to the - unfortunate absence of the crack International, Godfrey Staunton, whose - want was felt at every instant of the game. The lack of combination in the - three-quarter line and their weakness both in attack and defence more than - neutralized the efforts of a heavy and hard-working pack.’” - </p> - <p> - “Then our friend Overton’s forebodings have been justified,” said Holmes. - “Personally I am in agreement with Dr. Armstrong, and football does not - come within my horizon. Early to bed to-night, Watson, for I foresee that - to-morrow may be an eventful day.” - </p> - <p> - I was horrified by my first glimpse of Holmes next morning, for he sat by - the fire holding his tiny hypodermic syringe. I associated that instrument - with the single weakness of his nature, and I feared the worst when I saw - it glittering in his hand. He laughed at my expression of dismay and laid - it upon the table. - </p> - <p> - “No, no, my dear fellow, there is no cause for alarm. It is not upon this - occasion the instrument of evil, but it will rather prove to be the key - which will unlock our mystery. On this syringe I base all my hopes. I have - just returned from a small scouting expedition, and everything is - favourable. Eat a good breakfast, Watson, for I propose to get upon Dr. - Armstrong’s trail to-day, and once on it I will not stop for rest or food - until I run him to his burrow.” - </p> - <p> - “In that case,” said I, “we had best carry our breakfast with us, for he - is making an early start. His carriage is at the door.” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind. Let him go. He will be clever if he can drive where I cannot - follow him. When you have finished, come downstairs with me, and I will - introduce you to a detective who is a very eminent specialist in the work - that lies before us.” - </p> - <p> - When we descended I followed Holmes into the stable yard, where he opened - the door of a loose-box and led out a squat, lop-eared, white-and-tan dog, - something between a beagle and a foxhound. - </p> - <p> - “Let me introduce you to Pompey,” said he. “Pompey is the pride of the - local draghounds—no very great flier, as his build will show, but a - staunch hound on a scent. Well, Pompey, you may not be fast, but I expect - you will be too fast for a couple of middle-aged London gentlemen, so I - will take the liberty of fastening this leather leash to your collar. Now, - boy, come along, and show what you can do.” He led him across to the - doctor’s door. The dog sniffed round for an instant, and then with a - shrill whine of excitement started off down the street, tugging at his - leash in his efforts to go faster. In half an hour, we were clear of the - town and hastening down a country road. - </p> - <p> - “What have you done, Holmes?” I asked. - </p> - <p> - “A threadbare and venerable device, but useful upon occasion. I walked - into the doctor’s yard this morning, and shot my syringe full of aniseed - over the hind wheel. A draghound will follow aniseed from here to John - o’Groat’s, and our friend, Armstrong, would have to drive through the Cam - before he would shake Pompey off his trail. Oh, the cunning rascal! This - is how he gave me the slip the other night.” - </p> - <p> - The dog had suddenly turned out of the main road into a grass-grown lane. - Half a mile farther this opened into another broad road, and the trail - turned hard to the right in the direction of the town, which we had just - quitted. The road took a sweep to the south of the town, and continued in - the opposite direction to that in which we started. - </p> - <p> - “This <i>détour</i> has been entirely for our benefit, then?” said Holmes. “No - wonder that my inquiries among those villagers led to nothing. The doctor - has certainly played the game for all it is worth, and one would like to - know the reason for such elaborate deception. This should be the village - of Trumpington to the right of us. And, by Jove! here is the brougham - coming round the corner. Quick, Watson—quick, or we are done!” - </p> - <p> - He sprang through a gate into a field, dragging the reluctant Pompey after - him. We had hardly got under the shelter of the hedge when the carriage - rattled past. I caught a glimpse of Dr. Armstrong within, his shoulders - bowed, his head sunk on his hands, the very image of distress. I could - tell by my companion’s graver face that he also had seen. - </p> - <p> - “I fear there is some dark ending to our quest,” said he. “It cannot be - long before we know it. Come, Pompey! Ah, it is the cottage in the field!” - </p> - <p> - There could be no doubt that we had reached the end of our journey. Pompey - ran about and whined eagerly outside the gate, where the marks of the - brougham’s wheels were still to be seen. A footpath led across to the - lonely cottage. Holmes tied the dog to the hedge, and we hastened onward. - My friend knocked at the little rustic door, and knocked again without - response. And yet the cottage was not deserted, for a low sound came to - our ears—a kind of drone of misery and despair which was - indescribably melancholy. Holmes paused irresolute, and then he glanced - back at the road which he had just traversed. A brougham was coming down - it, and there could be no mistaking those grey horses. - </p> - <p> - “By Jove, the doctor is coming back!” cried Holmes. “That settles it. We - are bound to see what it means before he comes.” - </p> - <p> - He opened the door, and we stepped into the hall. The droning sound - swelled louder upon our ears until it became one long, deep wail of - distress. It came from upstairs. Holmes darted up, and I followed him. He - pushed open a half-closed door, and we both stood appalled at the sight - before us. - </p> - <p> - A woman, young and beautiful, was lying dead upon the bed. Her calm pale - face, with dim, wide-opened blue eyes, looked upward from amid a great - tangle of golden hair. At the foot of the bed, half sitting, half - kneeling, his face buried in the clothes, was a young man, whose frame was - racked by his sobs. So absorbed was he by his bitter grief, that he never - looked up until Holmes’s hand was on his shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Are you Mr. Godfrey Staunton?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes, I am—but you are too late. She is dead.” - </p> - <p> - The man was so dazed that he could not be made to understand that we were - anything but doctors who had been sent to his assistance. Holmes was - endeavouring to utter a few words of consolation and to explain the alarm - which had been caused to his friends by his sudden disappearance when - there was a step upon the stairs, and there was the heavy, stern, - questioning face of Dr. Armstrong at the door. - </p> - <p> - “So, gentlemen,” said he, “you have attained your end and have certainly - chosen a particularly delicate moment for your intrusion. I would not - brawl in the presence of death, but I can assure you that if I were a - younger man your monstrous conduct would not pass with impunity.” - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, Dr. Armstrong, I think we are a little at cross-purposes,” - said my friend, with dignity. “If you could step downstairs with us, we - may each be able to give some light to the other upon this miserable - affair.” - </p> - <p> - A minute later, the grim doctor and ourselves were in the sitting-room - below. - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir?” said he. - </p> - <p> - “I wish you to understand, in the first place, that I am not employed by - Lord Mount-James, and that my sympathies in this matter are entirely - against that nobleman. When a man is lost it is my duty to ascertain his - fate, but having done so the matter ends so far as I am concerned, and so - long as there is nothing criminal I am much more anxious to hush up - private scandals than to give them publicity. If, as I imagine, there is - no breach of the law in this matter, you can absolutely depend upon my - discretion and my cooperation in keeping the facts out of the papers.” - </p> - <p> - Dr. Armstrong took a quick step forward and wrung Holmes by the hand. - </p> - <p> - “You are a good fellow,” said he. “I had misjudged you. I thank heaven - that my compunction at leaving poor Staunton all alone in this plight - caused me to turn my carriage back and so to make your acquaintance. - Knowing as much as you do, the situation is very easily explained. A year - ago Godfrey Staunton lodged in London for a time and became passionately - attached to his landlady’s daughter, whom he married. She was as good as - she was beautiful and as intelligent as she was good. No man need be - ashamed of such a wife. But Godfrey was the heir to this crabbed old - nobleman, and it was quite certain that the news of his marriage would - have been the end of his inheritance. I knew the lad well, and I loved him - for his many excellent qualities. I did all I could to help him to keep - things straight. We did our very best to keep the thing from everyone, - for, when once such a whisper gets about, it is not long before everyone - has heard it. Thanks to this lonely cottage and his own discretion, - Godfrey has up to now succeeded. Their secret was known to no one save to - me and to one excellent servant, who has at present gone for assistance to - Trumpington. But at last there came a terrible blow in the shape of - dangerous illness to his wife. It was consumption of the most virulent - kind. The poor boy was half crazed with grief, and yet he had to go to - London to play this match, for he could not get out of it without - explanations which would expose his secret. I tried to cheer him up by - wire, and he sent me one in reply, imploring me to do all I could. This - was the telegram which you appear in some inexplicable way to have seen. I - did not tell him how urgent the danger was, for I knew that he could do no - good here, but I sent the truth to the girl’s father, and he very - injudiciously communicated it to Godfrey. The result was that he came - straight away in a state bordering on frenzy, and has remained in the same - state, kneeling at the end of her bed, until this morning death put an end - to her sufferings. That is all, Mr. Holmes, and I am sure that I can rely - upon your discretion and that of your friend.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes grasped the doctor’s hand. - </p> - <p> - “Come, Watson,” said he, and we passed from that house of grief into the - pale sunlight of the winter day. - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap12"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE</h2> - - <p> - It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning, towards the end of the - winter of ’97, that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was - Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face, and - told me at a glance that something was amiss. - </p> - <p> - “Come, Watson, come!” he cried. “The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your - clothes and come!” - </p> - <p> - Ten minutes later we were both in a cab, and rattling through the silent - streets on our way to Charing Cross Station. The first faint winter’s dawn - was beginning to appear, and we could dimly see the occasional figure of - an early workman as he passed us, blurred and indistinct in the opalescent - London reek. Holmes nestled in silence into his heavy coat, and I was glad - to do the same, for the air was most bitter, and neither of us had broken - our fast. - </p> - <p> - It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the station and taken our - places in the Kentish train that we were sufficiently thawed, he to speak - and I to listen. Holmes drew a note from his pocket, and read aloud: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent, 3:30 A.M.<br> - MY DEAR MR. HOLMES: - </p> - <p class="letter"> - I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in what promises to be - a most remarkable case. It is something quite in your line. Except for - releasing the lady I will see that everything is kept exactly as I have - found it, but I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficult to - leave Sir Eustace there. - </p> - <p class="right"> - Yours faithfully,<br> - STANLEY HOPKINS. - </p> - <p> - “Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summons - has been entirely justified,” said Holmes. “I fancy that every one of his - cases has found its way into your collection, and I must admit, Watson, - that you have some power of selection, which atones for much which I - deplore in your narratives. Your fatal habit of looking at everything from - the point of view of a story instead of as a scientific exercise has - ruined what might have been an instructive and even classical series of - demonstrations. You slur over work of the utmost finesse and delicacy, in - order to dwell upon sensational details which may excite, but cannot - possibly instruct, the reader.” - </p> - <p> - “Why do you not write them yourself?” I said, with some bitterness. - </p> - <p> - “I will, my dear Watson, I will. At present I am, as you know, fairly - busy, but I propose to devote my declining years to the composition of a - textbook, which shall focus the whole art of detection into one volume. - Our present research appears to be a case of murder.” - </p> - <p> - “You think this Sir Eustace is dead, then?” - </p> - <p> - “I should say so. Hopkins’s writing shows considerable agitation, and he - is not an emotional man. Yes, I gather there has been violence, and that - the body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would not have caused - him to send for me. As to the release of the lady, it would appear that - she has been locked in her room during the tragedy. We are moving in high - life, Watson, crackling paper, ‘E.B.’ monogram, coat-of-arms, picturesque - address. I think that friend Hopkins will live up to his reputation, and - that we shall have an interesting morning. The crime was committed before - twelve last night.” - </p> - <p> - “How can you possibly tell?” - </p> - <p> - “By an inspection of the trains, and by reckoning the time. The local - police had to be called in, they had to communicate with Scotland Yard, - Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All that makes a - fair night’s work. Well, here we are at Chiselhurst Station, and we shall - soon set our doubts at rest.” - </p> - <p> - A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes brought us to a - park gate, which was opened for us by an old lodge-keeper, whose haggard - face bore the reflection of some great disaster. The avenue ran through a - noble park, between lines of ancient elms, and ended in a low, widespread - house, pillared in front after the fashion of Palladio. The central part - was evidently of a great age and shrouded in ivy, but the large windows - showed that modern changes had been carried out, and one wing of the house - appeared to be entirely new. The youthful figure and alert, eager face of - Inspector Stanley Hopkins confronted us in the open doorway. - </p> - <p> - “I’m very glad you have come, Mr. Holmes. And you, too, Dr. Watson. But, - indeed, if I had my time over again, I should not have troubled you, for - since the lady has come to herself, she has given so clear an account of - the affair that there is not much left for us to do. You remember that - Lewisham gang of burglars?” - </p> - <p> - “What, the three Randalls?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly; the father and two sons. It’s their work. I have not a doubt of - it. They did a job at Sydenham a fortnight ago and were seen and - described. Rather cool to do another so soon and so near, but it is they, - beyond all doubt. It’s a hanging matter this time.” - </p> - <p> - “Sir Eustace is dead, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, his head was knocked in with his own poker.” - </p> - <p> - “Sir Eustace Brackenstall, the driver tells me.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly—one of the richest men in Kent—Lady Brackenstall is - in the morning-room. Poor lady, she has had a most dreadful experience. - She seemed half dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see her - and hear her account of the facts. Then we will examine the dining-room - together.” - </p> - <p> - Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Seldom have I seen so graceful a - figure, so womanly a presence, and so beautiful a face. She was a blonde, - golden-haired, blue-eyed, and would no doubt have had the perfect - complexion which goes with such colouring, had not her recent experience - left her drawn and haggard. Her sufferings were physical as well as - mental, for over one eye rose a hideous, plum-coloured swelling, which her - maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing assiduously with vinegar and - water. The lady lay back exhausted upon a couch, but her quick, observant - gaze, as we entered the room, and the alert expression of her beautiful - features, showed that neither her wits nor her courage had been shaken by - her terrible experience. She was enveloped in a loose dressing-gown of - blue and silver, but a black sequin-covered dinner-dress lay upon the - couch beside her. - </p> - <p> - “I have told you all that happened, Mr. Hopkins,” she said, wearily. - “Could you not repeat it for me? Well, if you think it necessary, I will - tell these gentlemen what occurred. Have they been in the dining-room - yet?” - </p> - <p> - “I thought they had better hear your ladyship’s story first.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall be glad when you can arrange matters. It is horrible to me to - think of him still lying there.” She shuddered and buried her face in her - hands. As she did so, the loose gown fell back from her forearms. Holmes - uttered an exclamation. - </p> - <p> - “You have other injuries, madam! What is this?” Two vivid red spots stood - out on one of the white, round limbs. She hastily covered it. - </p> - <p> - “It is nothing. It has no connection with this hideous business to-night. - If you and your friend will sit down, I will tell you all I can. - </p> - <p> - “I am the wife of Sir Eustace Brackenstall. I have been married about a - year. I suppose that it is no use my attempting to conceal that our - marriage has not been a happy one. I fear that all our neighbours would - tell you that, even if I were to attempt to deny it. Perhaps the fault may - be partly mine. I was brought up in the freer, less conventional - atmosphere of South Australia, and this English life, with its proprieties - and its primness, is not congenial to me. But the main reason lies in the - one fact, which is notorious to everyone, and that is that Sir Eustace was - a confirmed drunkard. To be with such a man for an hour is unpleasant. Can - you imagine what it means for a sensitive and high-spirited woman to be - tied to him for day and night? It is a sacrilege, a crime, a villainy to - hold that such a marriage is binding. I say that these monstrous laws of - yours will bring a curse upon the land—God will not let such - wickedness endure.” For an instant she sat up, her cheeks flushed, and her - eyes blazing from under the terrible mark upon her brow. Then the strong, - soothing hand of the austere maid drew her head down on to the cushion, - and the wild anger died away into passionate sobbing. At last she - continued: - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in this - house all the servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block is - made up of the dwelling-rooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroom - above. My maid, Theresa, sleeps above my room. There is no one else, and - no sound could alarm those who are in the farther wing. This must have - been well-known to the robbers, or they would not have acted as they did. - </p> - <p> - “Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The servants had already gone to - their quarters. Only my maid was up, and she had remained in her room at - the top of the house until I needed her services. I sat until after eleven - in this room, absorbed in a book. Then I walked round to see that all was - right before I went upstairs. It was my custom to do this myself, for, as - I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted. I went into - the kitchen, the butler’s pantry, the gun-room, the billiard-room, the - drawing-room, and finally the dining-room. As I approached the window, - which is covered with thick curtains, I suddenly felt the wind blow upon - my face and realized that it was open. I flung the curtain aside and found - myself face to face with a broad-shouldered elderly man, who had just - stepped into the room. The window is a long French one, which really forms - a door leading to the lawn. I held my bedroom candle lit in my hand, and, - by its light, behind the first man I saw two others, who were in the act - of entering. I stepped back, but the fellow was on me in an instant. He - caught me first by the wrist and then by the throat. I opened my mouth to - scream, but he struck me a savage blow with his fist over the eye, and - felled me to the ground. I must have been unconscious for a few minutes, - for when I came to myself, I found that they had torn down the bell-rope, - and had secured me tightly to the oaken chair which stands at the head of - the dining-table. I was so firmly bound that I could not move, and a - handkerchief round my mouth prevented me from uttering a sound. It was at - this instant that my unfortunate husband entered the room. He had - evidently heard some suspicious sounds, and he came prepared for such a - scene as he found. He was dressed in nightshirt and trousers, with his - favourite blackthorn cudgel in his hand. He rushed at the burglars, but - another—it was an elderly man—stooped, picked the poker out of - the grate and struck him a horrible blow as he passed. He fell with a - groan and never moved again. I fainted once more, but again it could only - have been for a very few minutes during which I was insensible. When I - opened my eyes I found that they had collected the silver from the - sideboard, and they had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of - them had a glass in his hand. I have already told you, have I not, that - one was elderly, with a beard, and the others young, hairless lads. They - might have been a father with his two sons. They talked together in - whispers. Then they came over and made sure that I was securely bound. - Finally they withdrew, closing the window after them. It was quite a - quarter of an hour before I got my mouth free. When I did so, my screams - brought the maid to my assistance. The other servants were soon alarmed, - and we sent for the local police, who instantly communicated with London. - That is really all that I can tell you, gentlemen, and I trust that it - will not be necessary for me to go over so painful a story again.” - </p> - <p> - “Any questions, Mr. Holmes?” asked Hopkins. - </p> - <p> - “I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall’s patience and - time,” said Holmes. “Before I go into the dining-room, I should like to - hear your experience.” He looked at the maid. - </p> - <p> - “I saw the men before ever they came into the house,” said she. “As I sat - by my bedroom window I saw three men in the moonlight down by the lodge - gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at the time. It was more than an - hour after that I heard my mistress scream, and down I ran, to find her, - poor lamb, just as she says, and him on the floor, with his blood and - brains over the room. It was enough to drive a woman out of her wits, tied - there, and her very dress spotted with him, but she never wanted courage, - did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide and Lady Brackenstall of Abbey Grange - hasn’t learned new ways. You’ve questioned her long enough, you gentlemen, - and now she is coming to her own room, just with her old Theresa, to get - the rest that she badly needs.” - </p> - <p> - With a motherly tenderness the gaunt woman put her arm round her mistress - and led her from the room. - </p> - <p> - “She has been with her all her life,” said Hopkins. “Nursed her as a baby, - and came with her to England when they first left Australia, eighteen - months ago. Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maid you don’t - pick up nowadays. This way, Mr. Holmes, if you please!” - </p> - <p> - The keen interest had passed out of Holmes’s expressive face, and I knew - that with the mystery all the charm of the case had departed. There still - remained an arrest to be effected, but what were these commonplace rogues - that he should soil his hands with them? An abstruse and learned - specialist who finds that he has been called in for a case of measles - would experience something of the annoyance which I read in my friend’s - eyes. Yet the scene in the dining-room of the Abbey Grange was - sufficiently strange to arrest his attention and to recall his waning - interest. - </p> - <p> - It was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling, oaken - panelling, and a fine array of deer’s heads and ancient weapons around the - walls. At the further end from the door was the high French window of - which we had heard. Three smaller windows on the right-hand side filled - the apartment with cold winter sunshine. On the left was a large, deep - fireplace, with a massive, overhanging oak mantelpiece. Beside the - fireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms and cross-bars at the bottom. - In and out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord, which was - secured at each side to the crosspiece below. In releasing the lady, the - cord had been slipped off her, but the knots with which it had been - secured still remained. These details only struck our attention - afterwards, for our thoughts were entirely absorbed by the terrible object - which lay upon the tigerskin hearthrug in front of the fire. - </p> - <p> - It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about forty years of age. He lay - upon his back, his face upturned, with his white teeth grinning through - his short, black beard. His two clenched hands were raised above his head, - and a heavy, blackthorn stick lay across them. His dark, handsome, - aquiline features were convulsed into a spasm of vindictive hatred, which - had set his dead face in a terribly fiendish expression. He had evidently - been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, for he wore a foppish, - embroidered nightshirt, and his bare feet projected from his trousers. His - head was horribly injured, and the whole room bore witness to the savage - ferocity of the blow which had struck him down. Beside him lay the heavy - poker, bent into a curve by the concussion. Holmes examined both it and - the indescribable wreck which it had wrought. - </p> - <p> - “He must be a powerful man, this elder Randall,” he remarked. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said Hopkins. “I have some record of the fellow, and he is a rough - customer.” - </p> - <p> - “You should have no difficulty in getting him.” - </p> - <p> - “Not the slightest. We have been on the look-out for him, and there was - some idea that he had got away to America. Now that we know that the gang - are here, I don’t see how they can escape. We have the news at every - seaport already, and a reward will be offered before evening. What beats - me is how they could have done so mad a thing, knowing that the lady could - describe them and that we could not fail to recognize the description.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. One would have expected that they would silence Lady - Brackenstall as well.” - </p> - <p> - “They may not have realized,” I suggested, “that she had recovered from - her faint.” - </p> - <p> - “That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless, they would not take - her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins? I seem to have heard some - queer stories about him.” - </p> - <p> - “He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend when he - was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom really went the - whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times, and he was capable - of anything. From what I hear, in spite of all his wealth and his title, - he very nearly came our way once or twice. There was a scandal about his - drenching a dog with petroleum and setting it on fire—her ladyship’s - dog, to make the matter worse—and that was only hushed up with - difficulty. Then he threw a decanter at that maid, Theresa Wright—there - was trouble about that. On the whole, and between ourselves, it will be a - brighter house without him. What are you looking at now?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes was down on his knees, examining with great attention the knots - upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured. Then he carefully - scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it had snapped off when the - burglar had dragged it down. - </p> - <p> - “When this was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen must have rung - loudly,” he remarked. - </p> - <p> - “No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of the house.” - </p> - <p> - “How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull at a - bell-rope in that reckless fashion?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I have - asked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that this fellow must - have known the house and its habits. He must have perfectly understood - that the servants would all be in bed at that comparatively early hour, - and that no one could possibly hear a bell ring in the kitchen. Therefore, - he must have been in close league with one of the servants. Surely that is - evident. But there are eight servants, and all of good character.” - </p> - <p> - “Other things being equal,” said Holmes, “one would suspect the one at - whose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that would involve - treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted. Well, - well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you will - probably find no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The lady’s story - certainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by every - detail which we see before us.” He walked to the French window and threw - it open. “There are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and one - would not expect them. I see that these candles in the mantelpiece have - been lighted.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it was by their light and that of the lady’s bedroom candle, that - the burglars saw their way about.” - </p> - <p> - “And what did they take?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, they did not take much—only half a dozen articles of plate - off the sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were themselves so - disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack the house, - as they would otherwise have done.” - </p> - <p> - “No doubt that is true, and yet they drank some wine, I understand.” - </p> - <p> - “To steady their nerves.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched, I - suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and the bottle stands as they left it.” - </p> - <p> - “Let us look at it. Halloa, halloa! What is this?” - </p> - <p> - The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with wine, and - one of them containing some dregs of beeswing. The bottle stood near them, - two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeply stained cork. Its - appearance and the dust upon the bottle showed that it was no common - vintage which the murderers had enjoyed. - </p> - <p> - A change had come over Holmes’s manner. He had lost his listless - expression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen, - deep-set eyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely. - </p> - <p> - “How did they draw it?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - Hopkins pointed to a half-opened drawer. In it lay some table linen and a - large corkscrew. - </p> - <p> - “Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?” - </p> - <p> - “No, you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the bottle was - opened.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite so. As a matter of fact, that screw was <i>not</i> used. This bottle was - opened by a pocket screw, probably contained in a knife, and not more than - an inch and a half long. If you will examine the top of the cork, you will - observe that the screw was driven in three times before the cork was - extracted. It has never been transfixed. This long screw would have - transfixed it and drawn it up with a single pull. When you catch this - fellow, you will find that he has one of these multiplex knives in his - possession.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent!” said Hopkins. - </p> - <p> - “But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall actually <i>saw</i> - the three men drinking, did she not?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; she was clear about that.” - </p> - <p> - “Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? And yet, you must - admit, that the three glasses are very remarkable, Hopkins. What? You see - nothing remarkable? Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps, when a man has - special knowledge and special powers like my own, it rather encourages him - to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at hand. Of course, it - must be a mere chance about the glasses. Well, good-morning, Hopkins. I - don’t see that I can be of any use to you, and you appear to have your - case very clear. You will let me know when Randall is arrested, and any - further developments which may occur. I trust that I shall soon have to - congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come, Watson, I fancy that - we may employ ourselves more profitably at home.” - </p> - <p> - During our return journey, I could see by Holmes’s face that he was much - puzzled by something which he had observed. Every now and then, by an - effort, he would throw off the impression, and talk as if the matter were - clear, but then his doubts would settle down upon him again, and his - knitted brows and abstracted eyes would show that his thoughts had gone - back once more to the great dining-room of the Abbey Grange, in which this - midnight tragedy had been enacted. At last, by a sudden impulse, just as - our train was crawling out of a suburban station, he sprang on to the - platform and pulled me out after him. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me, my dear fellow,” said he, as we watched the rear carriages of - our train disappearing round a curve, “I am sorry to make you the victim - of what may seem a mere whim, but on my life, Watson, I simply <i>can’t</i> leave - that case in this condition. Every instinct that I possess cries out - against it. It’s wrong—it’s all wrong—I’ll swear that it’s - wrong. And yet the lady’s story was complete, the maid’s corroboration was - sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put up against - that? Three wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had not taken things for - granted, if I had examined everything with the care which I should have - shown had we approached the case <i>de novo</i> and had no cut-and-dried story to - warp my mind, should I not then have found something more definite to go - upon? Of course I should. Sit down on this bench, Watson, until a train - for Chiselhurst arrives, and allow me to lay the evidence before you, - imploring you in the first instance to dismiss from your mind the idea - that anything which the maid or her mistress may have said must - necessarily be true. The lady’s charming personality must not be permitted - to warp our judgment. - </p> - <p> - “Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at in cold - blood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made a considerable haul - at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them and of their appearance - was in the papers, and would naturally occur to anyone who wished to - invent a story in which imaginary robbers should play a part. As a matter - of fact, burglars who have done a good stroke of business are, as a rule, - only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without embarking - on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusual for burglars to - operate at so early an hour, it is unusual for burglars to strike a lady - to prevent her screaming, since one would imagine that was the sure way to - make her scream, it is unusual for them to commit murder when their - numbers are sufficient to overpower one man, it is unusual for them to be - content with a limited plunder when there was much more within their - reach, and finally, I should say, that it was very unusual for such men to - leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals strike you, Watson?” - </p> - <p> - “Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each of them - is quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all, as it seems to - me, is that the lady should be tied to the chair.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson, for it is evident that they - must either kill her or else secure her in such a way that she could not - give immediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I have shown, have - I not, that there is a certain element of improbability about the lady’s - story? And now, on the top of this, comes the incident of the - wineglasses.” - </p> - <p> - “What about the wineglasses?” - </p> - <p> - “Can you see them in your mind’s eye?” - </p> - <p> - “I see them clearly.” - </p> - <p> - “We are told that three men drank from them. Does that strike you as - likely?” - </p> - <p> - “Why not? There was wine in each glass.” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly, but there was beeswing only in one glass. You must have noticed - that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?” - </p> - <p> - “The last glass filled would be most likely to contain beeswing.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable that the - first two glasses were clear and the third heavily charged with it. There - are two possible explanations, and only two. One is that after the second - glass was filled the bottle was violently agitated, and so the third glass - received the beeswing. That does not appear probable. No, no, I am sure - that I am right.” - </p> - <p> - “What, then, do you suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were poured - into a third glass, so as to give the false impression that three people - had been here. In that way all the beeswing would be in the last glass, - would it not? Yes, I am convinced that this is so. But if I have hit upon - the true explanation of this one small phenomenon, then in an instant the - case rises from the commonplace to the exceedingly remarkable, for it can - only mean that Lady Brackenstall and her maid have deliberately lied to - us, that not one word of their story is to be believed, that they have - some very strong reason for covering the real criminal, and that we must - construct our case for ourselves without any help from them. That is the - mission which now lies before us, and here, Watson, is the Sydenham - train.” - </p> - <p> - The household at the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return, but - Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to report to - headquarters, took possession of the dining-room, locked the door upon the - inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of those minute and - laborious investigations which form the solid basis on which his brilliant - edifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a corner like an interested - student who observes the demonstration of his professor, I followed every - step of that remarkable research. The window, the curtains, the carpet, - the chair, the rope—each in turn was minutely examined and duly - pondered. The body of the unfortunate baronet had been removed, and all - else remained as we had seen it in the morning. Finally, to my - astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece. Far above - his head hung the few inches of red cord which were still attached to the - wire. For a long time he gazed upward at it, and then in an attempt to get - nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the wall. This - brought his hand within a few inches of the broken end of the rope, but it - was not this so much as the bracket itself which seemed to engage his - attention. Finally, he sprang down with an ejaculation of satisfaction. - </p> - <p> - “It’s all right, Watson,” said he. “We have got our case—one of the - most remarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how slow-witted I have - been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! Now, I - think that, with a few missing links, my chain is almost complete.” - </p> - <p> - “You have got your men?” - </p> - <p> - “Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person. Strong as a - lion—witness the blow that bent that poker! Six foot three in - height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers, finally, - remarkably quick-witted, for this whole ingenious story is of his - concoction. Yes, Watson, we have come upon the handiwork of a very - remarkable individual. And yet, in that bell-rope, he has given us a clue - which should not have left us a doubt.” - </p> - <p> - “Where was the clue?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, if you were to pull down a bell-rope, Watson, where would you - expect it to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached to the wire. - Why should it break three inches from the top, as this one has done?” - </p> - <p> - “Because it is frayed there?” - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. This end, which we can examine, is frayed. He was cunning enough - to do that with his knife. But the other end is not frayed. You could not - observe that from here, but if you were on the mantelpiece you would see - that it is cut clean off without any mark of fraying whatever. You can - reconstruct what occurred. The man needed the rope. He would not tear it - down for fear of giving the alarm by ringing the bell. What did he do? He - sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it, put his knee on - the bracket—you will see the impression in the dust—and so got - his knife to bear upon the cord. I could not reach the place by at least - three inches—from which I infer that he is at least three inches a - bigger man than I. Look at that mark upon the seat of the oaken chair! - What is it?” - </p> - <p> - “Blood.” - </p> - <p> - “Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady’s story out of court. - If she were seated on the chair when the crime was done, how comes that - mark? No, no, she was placed in the chair <i>after</i> the death of her husband. - I’ll wager that the black dress shows a corresponding mark to this. We - have not yet met our Waterloo, Watson, but this is our Marengo, for it - begins in defeat and ends in victory. I should like now to have a few - words with the nurse, Theresa. We must be wary for a while, if we are to - get the information which we want.” - </p> - <p> - She was an interesting person, this stern Australian nurse—taciturn, - suspicious, ungracious, it took some time before Holmes’s pleasant manner - and frank acceptance of all that she said thawed her into a corresponding - amiability. She did not attempt to conceal her hatred for her late - employer. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. I heard him call - my mistress a name, and I told him that he would not dare to speak so if - her brother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me. He might - have thrown a dozen if he had but left my bonny bird alone. He was forever - ill-treating her, and she too proud to complain. She will not even tell me - all that he has done to her. She never told me of those marks on her arm - that you saw this morning, but I know very well that they come from a stab - with a hatpin. The sly devil—God forgive me that I should speak of - him so, now that he is dead! But a devil he was, if ever one walked the - earth. He was all honey when first we met him—only eighteen months - ago, and we both feel as if it were eighteen years. She had only just - arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage—she had never been - from home before. He won her with his title and his money and his false - London ways. If she made a mistake she has paid for it, if ever a woman - did. What month did we meet him? Well, I tell you it was just after we - arrived. We arrived in June, and it was July. They were married in January - of last year. Yes, she is down in the morning-room again, and I have no - doubt she will see you, but you must not ask too much of her, for she has - gone through all that flesh and blood will stand.” - </p> - <p> - Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked brighter - than before. The maid had entered with us, and began once more to foment - the bruise upon her mistress’s brow. - </p> - <p> - “I hope,” said the lady, “that you have not come to cross-examine me - again?” - </p> - <p> - “No,” Holmes answered, in his gentlest voice, “I will not cause you any - unnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall, and my whole desire is to make - things easy for you, for I am convinced that you are a much-tried woman. - If you will treat me as a friend and trust me, you may find that I will - justify your trust.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you want me to do?” - </p> - <p> - “To tell me the truth.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes!” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, Lady Brackenstall—it is no use. You may have heard of any - little reputation which I possess. I will stake it all on the fact that - your story is an absolute fabrication.” - </p> - <p> - Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes with pale faces and - frightened eyes. - </p> - <p> - “You are an impudent fellow!” cried Theresa. “Do you mean to say that my - mistress has told a lie?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes rose from his chair. - </p> - <p> - “Have you nothing to tell me?” - </p> - <p> - “I have told you everything.” - </p> - <p> - “Think once more, Lady Brackenstall. Would it not be better to be frank?” - </p> - <p> - For an instant there was hesitation in her beautiful face. Then some new - strong thought caused it to set like a mask. - </p> - <p> - “I have told you all I know.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. “I am sorry,” he said, and - without another word we left the room and the house. There was a pond in - the park, and to this my friend led the way. It was frozen over, but a - single hole was left for the convenience of a solitary swan. Holmes gazed - at it, and then passed on to the lodge gate. There he scribbled a short - note for Stanley Hopkins, and left it with the lodge-keeper. - </p> - <p> - “It may be a hit, or it may be a miss, but we are bound to do something - for friend Hopkins, just to justify this second visit,” said he. “I will - not quite take him into my confidence yet. I think our next scene of - operations must be the shipping office of the Adelaide-Southampton line, - which stands at the end of Pall Mall, if I remember right. There is a - second line of steamers which connect South Australia with England, but we - will draw the larger cover first.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes’s card sent in to the manager ensured instant attention, and he was - not long in acquiring all the information he needed. In June of ’95, only - one of their line had reached a home port. It was the <i>Rock of Gibraltar</i>, - their largest and best boat. A reference to the passenger list showed that - Miss Fraser, of Adelaide, with her maid had made the voyage in her. The - boat was now somewhere south of the Suez Canal on her way to Australia. - Her officers were the same as in ’95, with one exception. The first - officer, Mr. Jack Crocker, had been made a captain and was to take charge - of their new ship, the <i>Bass Rock</i>, sailing in two days’ time from - Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likely to be in that morning - for instructions, if we cared to wait for him. - </p> - <p> - No, Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to know more - about his record and character. - </p> - <p> - His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in the fleet to touch - him. As to his character, he was reliable on duty, but a wild, desperate - fellow off the deck of his ship—hot-headed, excitable, but loyal, - honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith of the information with which - Holmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company. Thence he - drove to Scotland Yard, but, instead of entering, he sat in his cab with - his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought. Finally he drove round to - the Charing Cross telegraph office, sent off a message, and then, at last, - we made for Baker Street once more. - </p> - <p> - “No, I couldn’t do it, Watson,” said he, as we reentered our room. “Once - that warrant was made out, nothing on earth would save him. Once or twice - in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by my discovery of the - criminal than ever he had done by his crime. I have learned caution now, - and I had rather play tricks with the law of England than with my own - conscience. Let us know a little more before we act.” - </p> - <p> - Before evening, we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins. Things were - not going very well with him. - </p> - <p> - “I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really do sometimes think - that you have powers that are not human. Now, how on earth could you know - that the stolen silver was at the bottom of that pond?” - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t know it.” - </p> - <p> - “But you told me to examine it.” - </p> - <p> - “You got it, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I got it.” - </p> - <p> - “I am very glad if I have helped you.” - </p> - <p> - “But you haven’t helped me. You have made the affair far more difficult. - What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and then throw it into the - nearest pond?” - </p> - <p> - “It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merely going on the - idea that if the silver had been taken by persons who did not want it—who - merely took it for a blind, as it were—then they would naturally be - anxious to get rid of it.” - </p> - <p> - “But why should such an idea cross your mind?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through the French - window, there was the pond with one tempting little hole in the ice, right - in front of their noses. Could there be a better hiding-place?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, a hiding-place—that is better!” cried Stanley Hopkins. “Yes, - yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folk upon the roads, they - were afraid of being seen with the silver, so they sank it in the pond, - intending to return for it when the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes—that - is better than your idea of a blind.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite so, you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that my own - ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that they have ended in - discovering the silver.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir—yes. It was all your doing. But I have had a bad setback.” - </p> - <p> - “A setback?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New York this - morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theory that they - committed a murder in Kent last night.” - </p> - <p> - “It is fatal, Mr. Holmes—absolutely fatal. Still, there are other - gangs of three besides the Randalls, or it may be some new gang of which - the police have never heard.” - </p> - <p> - “Quite so, it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is no rest for me until I have got to the bottom - of the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?” - </p> - <p> - “I have given you one.” - </p> - <p> - “Which?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I suggested a blind.” - </p> - <p> - “But why, Mr. Holmes, why?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, that’s the question, of course. But I commend the idea to your mind. - You might possibly find that there was something in it. You won’t stop for - dinner? Well, good-bye, and let us know how you get on.” - </p> - <p> - Dinner was over, and the table cleared before Holmes alluded to the matter - again. He had lit his pipe and held his slippered feet to the cheerful - blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked at his watch. - </p> - <p> - “I expect developments, Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “When?” - </p> - <p> - “Now—within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I acted rather - badly to Stanley Hopkins just now?” - </p> - <p> - “I trust your judgment.” - </p> - <p> - “A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way: what I know - is unofficial, what he knows is official. I have the right to private - judgment, but he has none. He must disclose all, or he is a traitor to his - service. In a doubtful case I would not put him in so painful a position, - and so I reserve my information until my own mind is clear upon the - matter.” - </p> - <p> - “But when will that be?” - </p> - <p> - “The time has come. You will now be present at the last scene of a - remarkable little drama.” - </p> - <p> - There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened to admit as - fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it. He was a very tall - young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed, with a skin which had been burned - by tropical suns, and a springy step, which showed that the huge frame was - as active as it was strong. He closed the door behind him, and then he - stood with clenched hands and heaving breast, choking down some - overmastering emotion. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down, Captain Crocker. You got my telegram?” - </p> - <p> - Our visitor sank into an armchair and looked from one to the other of us - with questioning eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heard that you - had been down to the office. There was no getting away from you. Let’s - hear the worst. What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out, - man! You can’t sit there and play with me like a cat with a mouse.” - </p> - <p> - “Give him a cigar,” said Holmes. “Bite on that, Captain Crocker, and don’t - let your nerves run away with you. I should not sit here smoking with you - if I thought that you were a common criminal, you may be sure of that. Be - frank with me and we may do some good. Play tricks with me, and I’ll crush - you.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you wish me to do?” - </p> - <p> - “To give me a true account of all that happened at the Abbey Grange last - night—a <i>true</i> account, mind you, with nothing added and nothing taken - off. I know so much already that if you go one inch off the straight, I’ll - blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out of my - hands forever.” - </p> - <p> - The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with his great - sunburned hand. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll chance it,” he cried. “I believe you are a man of your word, and a - white man, and I’ll tell you the whole story. But one thing I will say - first. So far as I am concerned, I regret nothing and I fear nothing, and - I would do it all again and be proud of the job. Damn the beast, if he had - as many lives as a cat, he would owe them all to me! But it’s the lady, - Mary—Mary Fraser—for never will I call her by that accursed - name. When I think of getting her into trouble, I who would give my life - just to bring one smile to her dear face, it’s that that turns my soul - into water. And yet—and yet—what less could I do? I’ll tell - you my story, gentlemen, and then I’ll ask you, as man to man, what less - could I do? - </p> - <p> - “I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expect that you - know that I met her when she was a passenger and I was first officer of - the <i>Rock of Gibraltar</i>. From the first day I met her, she was the only - woman to me. Every day of that voyage I loved her more, and many a time - since have I kneeled down in the darkness of the night watch and kissed - the deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it. She was - never engaged to me. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treated a - man. I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side, and all good - comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted she was a free woman, - but I could never again be a free man. - </p> - <p> - “Next time I came back from sea, I heard of her marriage. Well, why - shouldn’t she marry whom she liked? Title and money—who could carry - them better than she? She was born for all that is beautiful and dainty. I - didn’t grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound as that. I - just rejoiced that good luck had come her way, and that she had not thrown - herself away on a penniless sailor. That’s how I loved Mary Fraser. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I never thought to see her again, but last voyage I was promoted, - and the new boat was not yet launched, so I had to wait for a couple of - months with my people at Sydenham. One day out in a country lane I met - Theresa Wright, her old maid. She told me all about her, about him, about - everything. I tell you, gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. This drunken - hound, that he should dare to raise his hand to her, whose boots he was - not worthy to lick! I met Theresa again. Then I met Mary herself—and - met her again. Then she would meet me no more. But the other day I had a - notice that I was to start on my voyage within a week, and I determined - that I would see her once before I left. Theresa was always my friend, for - she loved Mary and hated this villain almost as much as I did. From her I - learned the ways of the house. Mary used to sit up reading in her own - little room downstairs. I crept round there last night and scratched at - the window. At first she would not open to me, but in her heart I know - that now she loves me, and she could not leave me in the frosty night. She - whispered to me to come round to the big front window, and I found it open - before me, so as to let me into the dining-room. Again I heard from her - own lips things that made my blood boil, and again I cursed this brute who - mishandled the woman I loved. Well, gentlemen, I was standing with her - just inside the window, in all innocence, as God is my judge, when he - rushed like a madman into the room, called her the vilest name that a man - could use to a woman, and welted her across the face with the stick he had - in his hand. I had sprung for the poker, and it was a fair fight between - us. See here, on my arm, where his first blow fell. Then it was my turn, - and I went through him as if he had been a rotten pumpkin. Do you think I - was sorry? Not I! It was his life or mine, but far more than that, it was - his life or hers, for how could I leave her in the power of this madman? - That was how I killed him. Was I wrong? Well, then, what would either of - you gentlemen have done, if you had been in my position? - </p> - <p> - “She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought old Theresa down - from the room above. There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard, and I - opened it and poured a little between Mary’s lips, for she was half dead - with shock. Then I took a drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice, and it - was her plot as much as mine. We must make it appear that burglars had - done the thing. Theresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress, while - I swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashed her in her chair, - and frayed out the end of the rope to make it look natural, else they - would wonder how in the world a burglar could have got up there to cut it. - Then I gathered up a few plates and pots of silver, to carry out the idea - of the robbery, and there I left them, with orders to give the alarm when - I had a quarter of an hour’s start. I dropped the silver into the pond, - and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for once in my life I had done a - real good night’s work. And that’s the truth and the whole truth, Mr. - Holmes, if it costs me my neck.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed the room, and - shook our visitor by the hand. - </p> - <p> - “That’s what I think,” said he. “I know that every word is true, for you - have hardly said a word which I did not know. No one but an acrobat or a - sailor could have got up to that bell-rope from the bracket, and no one - but a sailor could have made the knots with which the cord was fastened to - the chair. Only once had this lady been brought into contact with sailors, - and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own class of life, - since she was trying hard to shield him, and so showing that she loved - him. You see how easy it was for me to lay my hands upon you when once I - had started upon the right trail.” - </p> - <p> - “I thought the police never could have seen through our dodge.” - </p> - <p> - “And the police haven’t, nor will they, to the best of my belief. Now, - look here, Captain Crocker, this is a very serious matter, though I am - willing to admit that you acted under the most extreme provocation to - which any man could be subjected. I am not sure that in defence of your - own life your action will not be pronounced legitimate. However, that is - for a British jury to decide. Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for you - that, if you choose to disappear in the next twenty-four hours, I will - promise you that no one will hinder you.” - </p> - <p> - “And then it will all come out?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly it will come out.” - </p> - <p> - The sailor flushed with anger. - </p> - <p> - “What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I know enough of law to - understand that Mary would be held as accomplice. Do you think I would - leave her alone to face the music while I slunk away? No, sir, let them do - their worst upon me, but for heaven’s sake, Mr. Holmes, find some way of - keeping my poor Mary out of the courts.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes for a second time held out his hand to the sailor. - </p> - <p> - “I was only testing you, and you ring true every time. Well, it is a great - responsibility that I take upon myself, but I have given Hopkins an - excellent hint and if he can’t avail himself of it I can do no more. See - here, Captain Crocker, we’ll do this in due form of law. You are the - prisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who was - more eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentleman of - the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisoner guilty or - not guilty?” - </p> - <p> - “Not guilty, my lord,” said I. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Vox populi, vox Dei</i>. You are acquitted, Captain Crocker. So long as the - law does not find some other victim you are safe from me. Come back to - this lady in a year, and may her future and yours justify us in the - judgment which we have pronounced this night!” - </p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="chap13"></a>THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND STAIN</h2> - - <p> - I had intended “The Adventure of the Abbey Grange” to be the last of those - exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, which I should ever - communicate to the public. This resolution of mine was not due to any lack - of material, since I have notes of many hundreds of cases to which I have - never alluded, nor was it caused by any waning interest on the part of my - readers in the singular personality and unique methods of this remarkable - man. The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr. Holmes has shown to - the continued publication of his experiences. So long as he was in actual - professional practice the records of his successes were of some practical - value to him, but since he has definitely retired from London and betaken - himself to study and bee-farming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become - hateful to him, and he has peremptorily requested that his wishes in this - matter should be strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to - him that I had given a promise that “The Adventure of the Second Stain” - should be published when the times were ripe, and pointing out to him that - it is only appropriate that this long series of episodes should culminate - in the most important international case which he has ever been called - upon to handle, that I at last succeeded in obtaining his consent that a - carefully guarded account of the incident should at last be laid before - the public. If in telling the story I seem to be somewhat vague in certain - details, the public will readily understand that there is an excellent - reason for my reticence. - </p> - <p class="p2"> - It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be nameless, - that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found two visitors of European - fame within the walls of our humble room in Baker Street. The one, - austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed, and dominant, was none other than the - illustrious Lord Bellinger, twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, - clear-cut, and elegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed with every - beauty of body and of mind, was the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope, - Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising statesman in the - country. They sat side by side upon our paper-littered settee, and it was - easy to see from their worn and anxious faces that it was business of the - most pressing importance which had brought them. The Premier’s thin, - blue-veined hands were clasped tightly over the ivory head of his - umbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me. - The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustache and fidgeted with - the seals of his watch-chain. - </p> - <p> - “When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o’clock this - morning, I at once informed the Prime Minister. It was at his suggestion - that we have both come to you.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you informed the police?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir,” said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisive manner for - which he was famous. “We have not done so, nor is it possible that we - should do so. To inform the police must, in the long run, mean to inform - the public. This is what we particularly desire to avoid.” - </p> - <p> - “And why, sir?” - </p> - <p> - “Because the document in question is of such immense importance that its - publication might very easily—I might almost say probably—lead - to European complications of the utmost moment. It is not too much to say - that peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can be - attended with the utmost secrecy, then it may as well not be recovered at - all, for all that is aimed at by those who have taken it is that its - contents should be generally known.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged if you - would tell me exactly the circumstances under which this document - disappeared.” - </p> - <p> - “That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter—for it - was a letter from a foreign potentate—was received six days ago. It - was of such importance that I have never left it in my safe, but have - taken it across each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it - in my bedroom in a locked despatch-box. It was there last night. Of that I - am certain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing for dinner and - saw the document inside. This morning it was gone. The despatch-box had - stood beside the glass upon my dressing-table all night. I am a light - sleeper, and so is my wife. We are both prepared to swear that no one - could have entered the room during the night. And yet I repeat that the - paper is gone.” - </p> - <p> - “What time did you dine?” - </p> - <p> - “Half-past seven.” - </p> - <p> - “How long was it before you went to bed?” - </p> - <p> - “My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her. It was half-past - eleven before we went to our room.” - </p> - <p> - “Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?” - </p> - <p> - “No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the house-maid in the - morning, and my valet, or my wife’s maid, during the rest of the day. They - are both trusty servants who have been with us for some time. Besides, - neither of them could possibly have known that there was anything more - valuable than the ordinary departmental papers in my despatch-box.” - </p> - <p> - “Who did know of the existence of that letter?” - </p> - <p> - “No one in the house.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely your wife knew?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir. I had said nothing to my wife until I missed the paper this - morning.” - </p> - <p> - The Premier nodded approvingly. - </p> - <p> - “I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty,” said he. - “I am convinced that in the case of a secret of this importance it would - rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties.” - </p> - <p> - The European Secretary bowed. - </p> - <p> - “You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I have never - breathed one word to my wife upon this matter.” - </p> - <p> - “Could she have guessed?” - </p> - <p> - “No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed—nor could anyone have - guessed.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you lost any documents before?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Who is there in England who did know of the existence of this letter?” - </p> - <p> - “Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday, but the pledge - of secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting was increased by the solemn - warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Good heavens, to think that - within a few hours I should myself have lost it!” His handsome face was - distorted with a spasm of despair, and his hands tore at his hair. For a - moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man, impulsive, ardent, keenly - sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask was replaced, and the gentle - voice had returned. “Besides the members of the Cabinet there are two, or - possibly three, departmental officials who know of the letter. No one else - in England, Mr. Holmes, I assure you.” - </p> - <p> - “But abroad?” - </p> - <p> - “I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it. I am - well convinced that his Ministers—that the usual official channels - have not been employed.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes considered for some little time. - </p> - <p> - “Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is, and why - its disappearance should have such momentous consequences?” - </p> - <p> - The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier’s shaggy - eyebrows gathered in a frown. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour. There - is a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is addressed in - large, bold handwriting to——” - </p> - <p> - “I fear, sir,” said Holmes, “that, interesting and indeed essential as - these details are, my inquiries must go more to the root of things. What - <i>was</i> the letter?” - </p> - <p> - “That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear that I cannot - tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of the powers - which you are said to possess you can find such an envelope as I describe - with its enclosure, you will have deserved well of your country, and - earned any reward which it lies in our power to bestow.” - </p> - <p> - Sherlock Holmes rose with a smile. - </p> - <p> - “You are two of the most busy men in the country,” said he, “and in my own - small way I have also a good many calls upon me. I regret exceedingly that - I cannot help you in this matter, and any continuation of this interview - would be a waste of time.” - </p> - <p> - The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of his - deep-set eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. “I am not accustomed, - sir,” he began, but mastered his anger and resumed his seat. For a minute - or more we all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shrugged his - shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right, and it is - unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give you our entire - confidence.” - </p> - <p> - “I agree with you,” said the younger statesman. - </p> - <p> - “Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and that of your - colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal to your patriotism also, for I could - not imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that this affair - should come out.” - </p> - <p> - “You may safely trust us.” - </p> - <p> - “The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who has been - ruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this country. It has been - written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely. Inquiries have - shown that his Ministers know nothing of the matter. At the same time it - is couched in so unfortunate a manner, and certain phrases in it are of so - provocative a character, that its publication would undoubtedly lead to a - most dangerous state of feeling in this country. There would be such a - ferment, sir, that I do not hesitate to say that within a week of the - publication of that letter this country would be involved in a great war.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes wrote a name upon a slip of paper and handed it to the Premier. - </p> - <p> - “Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter—this letter which may - well mean the expenditure of a thousand millions and the lives of a - hundred thousand men—which has become lost in this unaccountable - fashion.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you informed the sender?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, a cipher telegram has been despatched.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter.” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he already understands - that he has acted in an indiscreet and hot-headed manner. It would be a - greater blow to him and to his country than to us if this letter were to - come out.” - </p> - <p> - “If this is so, whose interest is it that the letter should come out? Why - should anyone desire to steal it or to publish it?” - </p> - <p> - “There, Mr. Holmes, you take me into regions of high international - politics. But if you consider the European situation you will have no - difficulty in perceiving the motive. The whole of Europe is an armed camp. - There is a double league which makes a fair balance of military power. - Great Britain holds the scales. If Britain were driven into war with one - confederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the other confederacy, - whether they joined in the war or not. Do you follow?” - </p> - <p> - “Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of this potentate to - secure and publish this letter, so as to make a breach between his country - and ours?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into the hands of an - enemy?” - </p> - <p> - “To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speeding on - its way thither at the present instant as fast as steam can take it.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groaned aloud. The - Premier placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you. There is no - precaution which you have neglected. Now, Mr. Holmes, you are in full - possession of the facts. What course do you recommend?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes shook his head mournfully. - </p> - <p> - “You think, sir, that unless this document is recovered there will be - war?” - </p> - <p> - “I think it is very probable.” - </p> - <p> - “Then, sir, prepare for war.” - </p> - <p> - “That is a hard saying, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken after - eleven-thirty at night, since I understand that Mr. Hope and his wife were - both in the room from that hour until the loss was found out. It was - taken, then, yesterday evening between seven-thirty and eleven-thirty, - probably near the earlier hour, since whoever took it evidently knew that - it was there and would naturally secure it as early as possible. Now, sir, - if a document of this importance were taken at that hour, where can it be - now? No one has any reason to retain it. It has been passed rapidly on to - those who need it. What chance have we now to overtake or even to trace - it? It is beyond our reach.” - </p> - <p> - The Prime Minister rose from the settee. - </p> - <p> - “What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that the matter is - indeed out of our hands.” - </p> - <p> - “Let us presume, for argument’s sake, that the document was taken by the - maid or by the valet——” - </p> - <p> - “They are both old and tried servants.” - </p> - <p> - “I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor, that there - is no entrance from without, and that from within no one could go up - unobserved. It must, then, be somebody in the house who has taken it. To - whom would the thief take it? To one of several international spies and - secret agents, whose names are tolerably familiar to me. There are three - who may be said to be the heads of their profession. I will begin my - research by going round and finding if each of them is at his post. If one - is missing—especially if he has disappeared since last night—we - will have some indication as to where the document has gone.” - </p> - <p> - “Why should he be missing?” asked the European Secretary. “He would take - the letter to an Embassy in London, as likely as not.” - </p> - <p> - “I fancy not. These agents work independently, and their relations with - the Embassies are often strained.” - </p> - <p> - The Prime Minister nodded his acquiescence. - </p> - <p> - “I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable a prize to - headquarters with his own hands. I think that your course of action is an - excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot neglect all our other duties on - account of this one misfortune. Should there be any fresh developments - during the day we shall communicate with you, and you will no doubt let us - know the results of your own inquiries.” - </p> - <p> - The two statesmen bowed and walked gravely from the room. - </p> - <p> - When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmes lit his pipe in silence - and sat for some time lost in the deepest thought. I had opened the - morning paper and was immersed in a sensational crime which had occurred - in London the night before, when my friend gave an exclamation, sprang to - his feet, and laid his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said he, “there is no better way of approaching it. The situation - is desperate, but not hopeless. Even now, if we could be sure which of - them has taken it, it is just possible that it has not yet passed out of - his hands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows, and I - have the British treasury behind me. If it’s on the market I’ll buy it—if - it means another penny on the income-tax. It is conceivable that the - fellow might hold it back to see what bids come from this side before he - tries his luck on the other. There are only those three capable of playing - so bold a game—there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas. - I will see each of them.” - </p> - <p> - I glanced at my morning paper. - </p> - <p> - “Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “You will not see him.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not?” - </p> - <p> - “He was murdered in his house last night.” - </p> - <p> - My friend has so often astonished me in the course of our adventures that - it was with a sense of exultation that I realized how completely I had - astonished him. He stared in amazement, and then snatched the paper from - my hands. This was the paragraph which I had been engaged in reading when - he rose from his chair: - </p> - <p class="center"> - MURDER IN WESTMINSTER - </p> - <p class="letter"> - A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16, Godolphin - Street, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows of eighteenth century - houses which lie between the river and the Abbey, almost in the shadow of - the great Tower of the Houses of Parliament. This small but select mansion - has been inhabited for some years by Mr. Eduardo Lucas, well-known in - society circles both on account of his charming personality and because he - has the well-deserved reputation of being one of the best amateur tenors - in the country. Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man, thirty-four years of age, - and his establishment consists of Mrs. Pringle, an elderly housekeeper, - and of Mitton, his valet. The former retires early and sleeps at the top - of the house. The valet was out for the evening, visiting a friend at - Hammersmith. From ten o’clock onward Mr. Lucas had the house to himself. - What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but at a quarter to - twelve Police-constable Barrett, passing along Godolphin Street observed - that the door of No. 16 was ajar. He knocked, but received no answer. - Perceiving a light in the front room, he advanced into the passage and - again knocked, but without reply. He then pushed open the door and - entered. The room was in a state of wild disorder, the furniture being all - swept to one side, and one chair lying on its back in the centre. Beside - this chair, and still grasping one of its legs, lay the unfortunate tenant - of the house. He had been stabbed to the heart and must have died - instantly. The knife with which the crime had been committed was a curved - Indian dagger, plucked down from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned - one of the walls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of the - crime, for there had been no attempt to remove the valuable contents of - the room. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well-known and popular that his violent - and mysterious fate will arouse painful interest and intense sympathy in a - widespread circle of friends. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Watson, what do you make of this?” asked Holmes, after a long - pause. - </p> - <p> - “It is an amazing coincidence.” - </p> - <p> - “A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had named as possible - actors in this drama, and he meets a violent death during the very hours - when we know that that drama was being enacted. The odds are enormous - against its being coincidence. No figures could express them. No, my dear - Watson, the two events are connected—<i>must</i> be connected. It is for us - to find the connection.” - </p> - <p> - “But now the official police must know all.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. They know—and - shall know—nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only <i>we</i> know of both - events, and can trace the relation between them. There is one obvious - point which would, in any case, have turned my suspicions against Lucas. - Godolphin Street, Westminster, is only a few minutes’ walk from Whitehall - Terrace. The other secret agents whom I have named live in the extreme - West End. It was easier, therefore, for Lucas than for the others to - establish a connection or receive a message from the European Secretary’s - household—a small thing, and yet where events are compressed into a - few hours it may prove essential. Halloa! what have we here?” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady’s card upon her salver. Holmes - glanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and handed it over to me. - </p> - <p> - “Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope if she will be kind enough to step up,” - said he. - </p> - <p> - A moment later our modest apartment, already so distinguished that - morning, was further honoured by the entrance of the most lovely woman in - London. I had often heard of the beauty of the youngest daughter of the - Duke of Belminster, but no description of it, and no contemplation of - colourless photographs, had prepared me for the subtle, delicate charm and - the beautiful colouring of that exquisite head. And yet as we saw it that - autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be the first thing to - impress the observer. The cheek was lovely but it was paled with emotion, - the eyes were bright but it was the brightness of fever, the sensitive - mouth was tight and drawn in an effort after self-command. Terror—not - beauty—was what sprang first to the eye as our fair visitor stood - framed for an instant in the open door. - </p> - <p> - “Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, madam, he has been here.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes. I implore you not to tell him that I came here.” Holmes bowed - coldly, and motioned the lady to a chair. - </p> - <p> - “Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position. I beg that you will - sit down and tell me what you desire, but I fear that I cannot make any - unconditional promise.” - </p> - <p> - She swept across the room and seated herself with her back to the window. - It was a queenly presence—tall, graceful, and intensely womanly. - “Mr. Holmes,” she said—and her white-gloved hands clasped and - unclasped as she spoke—“I will speak frankly to you in the hopes - that it may induce you to speak frankly in return. There is complete - confidence between my husband and me on all matters save one. That one is - politics. On this his lips are sealed. He tells me nothing. Now, I am - aware that there was a most deplorable occurrence in our house last night. - I know that a paper has disappeared. But because the matter is political - my husband refuses to take me into his complete confidence. Now it is - essential—essential, I say—that I should thoroughly understand - it. You are the only other person, save only these politicians, who knows - the true facts. I beg you then, Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has - happened and what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard - for your client’s interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his - interests, if he would only see it, would be best served by taking me into - his complete confidence. What was this paper which was stolen?” - </p> - <p> - “Madam, what you ask me is really impossible.” - </p> - <p> - She groaned and sank her face in her hands. - </p> - <p> - “You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks fit to keep - you in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who has only learned the - true facts under the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell what he has - withheld? It is not fair to ask it. It is him whom you must ask.” - </p> - <p> - “I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But without your - telling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great service if - you would enlighten me on one point.” - </p> - <p> - “What is it, madam?” - </p> - <p> - “Is my husband’s political career likely to suffer through this incident?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have a very - unfortunate effect.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah!” She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubts are resolved. - </p> - <p> - “One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which my husband - dropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood that terrible - public consequences might arise from the loss of this document.” - </p> - <p> - “If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it.” - </p> - <p> - “Of what nature are they?” - </p> - <p> - “Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possibly answer.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you, Mr. Holmes, - for having refused to speak more freely, and you on your side will not, I - am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, even against his will, to - share my husband’s anxieties. Once more I beg that you will say nothing of - my visit.” - </p> - <p> - She looked back at us from the door, and I had a last impression of that - beautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawn mouth. Then she - was gone. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department,” said Holmes, with a smile, - when the dwindling <i>frou-frou</i> of skirts had ended in the slam of the front - door. “What was the fair lady’s game? What did she really want?” - </p> - <p> - “Surely her own statement is clear and her anxiety very natural.” - </p> - <p> - “Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson—her manner, her suppressed - excitement, her restlessness, her tenacity in asking questions. Remember - that she comes of a caste who do not lightly show emotion.” - </p> - <p> - “She was certainly much moved.” - </p> - <p> - “Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured us that it - was best for her husband that she should know all. What did she mean by - that? And you must have observed, Watson, how she manœuvred to have the - light at her back. She did not wish us to read her expression.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, she chose the one chair in the room.” - </p> - <p> - “And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You remember the woman - at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason. No powder on her nose—that - proved to be the correct solution. How can you build on such a quicksand? - Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or their most extraordinary - conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling tongs. Good-morning, - Watson.” - </p> - <p> - “You are off?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I will while away the morning at Godolphin Street with our friends - of the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas lies the solution of our - problem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to what form it - may take. It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts. Do - you stay on guard, my good Watson, and receive any fresh visitors. I’ll - join you at lunch if I am able.” - </p> - <p class="p2"> - All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a mood which his - friends would call taciturn, and others morose. He ran out and ran in, - smoked incessantly, played snatches on his violin, sank into reveries, - devoured sandwiches at irregular hours, and hardly answered the casual - questions which I put to him. It was evident to me that things were not - going well with him or his quest. He would say nothing of the case, and it - was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest, and the - arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton, the valet of the - deceased. The coroner’s jury brought in the obvious Wilful Murder, but the - parties remained as unknown as ever. No motive was suggested. The room was - full of articles of value, but none had been taken. The dead man’s papers - had not been tampered with. They were carefully examined, and showed that - he was a keen student of international politics, an indefatigable gossip, - a remarkable linguist, and an untiring letter writer. He had been on - intimate terms with the leading politicians of several countries. But - nothing sensational was discovered among the documents which filled his - drawers. As to his relations with women, they appeared to have been - promiscuous but superficial. He had many acquaintances among them, but few - friends, and no one whom he loved. His habits were regular, his conduct - inoffensive. His death was an absolute mystery and likely to remain so. - </p> - <p> - As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a council of despair as - an alternative to absolute inaction. But no case could be sustained - against him. He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The <i>alibi</i> - was complete. It is true that he started home at an hour which should have - brought him to Westminster before the time when the crime was discovered, - but his own explanation that he had walked part of the way seemed probable - enough in view of the fineness of the night. He had actually arrived at - twelve o’clock, and appeared to be overwhelmed by the unexpected tragedy. - He had always been on good terms with his master. Several of the dead - man’s possessions—notably a small case of razors—had been - found in the valet’s boxes, but he explained that they had been presents - from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able to corroborate the story. - Mitton had been in Lucas’s employment for three years. It was noticeable - that Lucas did not take Mitton on the Continent with him. Sometimes he - visited Paris for three months on end, but Mitton was left in charge of - the Godolphin Street house. As to the housekeeper, she had heard nothing - on the night of the crime. If her master had a visitor he had himself - admitted him. - </p> - <p> - So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I could follow it in - the papers. If Holmes knew more, he kept his own counsel, but, as he told - me that Inspector Lestrade had taken him into his confidence in the case, - I knew that he was in close touch with every development. Upon the fourth - day there appeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed to solve the - whole question. - </p> - <p class="letter"> - A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police (said the <i>Daily - Telegraph</i>) which raises the veil which hung round the tragic fate of Mr. - Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday night at - Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember that the deceased - gentleman was found stabbed in his room, and that some suspicion attached - to his valet, but that the case broke down on an <i>alibi</i>. Yesterday a lady, - who has been known as Mme. Henri Fournaye, occupying a small villa in the - Rue Austerlitz, was reported to the authorities by her servants as being - insane. An examination showed she had indeed developed mania of a - dangerous and permanent form. On inquiry, the police have discovered that - Mme. Henri Fournaye only returned from a journey to London on Tuesday - last, and there is evidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster. - A comparison of photographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri Fournaye - and Eduardo Lucas were really one and the same person, and that the - deceased had for some reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Mme. - Fournaye, who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely excitable nature, - and has suffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted - to frenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she - committed the terrible crime which has caused such a sensation in London. - Her movements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced, but it is - undoubted that a woman answering to her description attracted much - attention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday morning by the wildness of - her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable, - therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, or that its - immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. At - present she is unable to give any coherent account of the past, and the - doctors hold out no hopes of the reestablishment of her reason. There is - evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye, was seen for - some hours upon Monday night watching the house in Godolphin Street. - </p> - <p> - “What do you think of that, Holmes?” I had read the account aloud to him, - while he finished his breakfast. - </p> - <p> - “My dear Watson,” said he, as he rose from the table and paced up and down - the room, “You are most long-suffering, but if I have told you nothing in - the last three days, it is because there is nothing to tell. Even now this - report from Paris does not help us much.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely it is final as regards the man’s death.” - </p> - <p> - “The man’s death is a mere incident—a trivial episode—in - comparison with our real task, which is to trace this document and save a - European catastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last - three days, and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost - hourly from the government, and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is - there any sign of trouble. Now, if this letter were loose—no, it - <i>can’t</i> be loose—but if it isn’t loose, where can it be? Who has it? - Why is it held back? That’s the question that beats in my brain like a - hammer. Was it, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should meet his death on - the night when the letter disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If - so, why is it not among his papers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off - with her? If so, is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for it - without the French police having their suspicions aroused? It is a case, - my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as the criminals are. - Every man’s hand is against us, and yet the interests at stake are - colossal. Should I bring it to a successful conclusion, it will certainly - represent the crowning glory of my career. Ah, here is my latest from the - front!” He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in. - “Halloa! Lestrade seems to have observed something of interest. Put on - your hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together to Westminster.” - </p> - <p> - It was my first visit to the scene of the crime—a high, dingy, - narrow-chested house, prim, formal, and solid, like the century which gave - it birth. Lestrade’s bulldog features gazed out at us from the front - window, and he greeted us warmly when a big constable had opened the door - and let us in. The room into which we were shown was that in which the - crime had been committed, but no trace of it now remained save an ugly, - irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a small square drugget in - the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanse of beautiful, - old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blocks, highly polished. Over the - fireplace was a magnificent trophy of weapons, one of which had been used - on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuous writing-desk, and - every detail of the apartment, the pictures, the rugs, and the hangings, - all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge of effeminacy. - </p> - <p> - “Seen the Paris news?” asked Lestrade. - </p> - <p> - Holmes nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubt it’s - just as they say. She knocked at the door—surprise visit, I guess, - for he kept his life in water-tight compartments—he let her in, - couldn’t keep her in the street. She told him how she had traced him, - reproached him. One thing led to another, and then with that dagger so - handy the end soon came. It wasn’t all done in an instant, though, for - these chairs were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his hand as if - he had tried to hold her off with it. We’ve got it all clear as if we had - seen it.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes raised his eyebrows. - </p> - <p> - “And yet you have sent for me?” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, yes, that’s another matter—a mere trifle, but the sort of thing - you take an interest in—queer, you know, and what you might call - freakish. It has nothing to do with the main fact—can’t have, on the - face of it.” - </p> - <p> - “What is it, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you know, after a crime of this sort we are very careful to keep - things in their position. Nothing has been moved. Officer in charge here - day and night. This morning, as the man was buried and the investigation - over—so far as this room is concerned—we thought we could tidy - up a bit. This carpet. You see, it is not fastened down, only just laid - there. We had occasion to raise it. We found——” - </p> - <p> - “Yes? You found——” - </p> - <p> - Holmes’s face grew tense with anxiety. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’m sure you would never guess in a hundred years what we did find. - You see that stain on the carpet? Well, a great deal must have soaked - through, must it not?” - </p> - <p> - “Undoubtedly it must.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain on the white - woodwork to correspond.” - </p> - <p> - “No stain! But there must——” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, so you would say. But the fact remains that there isn’t.” - </p> - <p> - He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over, he - showed that it was indeed as he said. - </p> - <p> - “But the under side is as stained as the upper. It must have left a mark.” - </p> - <p> - Lestrade chuckled with delight at having puzzled the famous expert. - </p> - <p> - “Now, I’ll show you the explanation. There <i>is</i> a second stain, but it does - not correspond with the other. See for yourself.” As he spoke he turned - over another portion of the carpet, and there, sure enough, was a great - crimson spill upon the square white facing of the old-fashioned floor. - “What do you make of that, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond, but the carpet - has been turned round. As it was square and unfastened it was easily - done.” - </p> - <p> - “The official police don’t need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell them that the - carpet must have been turned round. That’s clear enough, for the stains - lie above each other—if you lay it over this way. But what I want to - know is, who shifted the carpet, and why?” - </p> - <p> - I could see from Holmes’s rigid face that he was vibrating with inward - excitement. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Lestrade,” said he, “has that constable in the passage been in - charge of the place all the time?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, he has.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don’t do it before us. We’ll - wait here. You take him into the back room. You’ll be more likely to get a - confession out of him alone. Ask him how he dared to admit people and - leave them alone in this room. Don’t ask him if he has done it. Take it - for granted. Tell him you <i>know</i> someone has been here. Press him. Tell him - that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. Do exactly what - I tell you!” - </p> - <p> - “By George, if he knows I’ll have it out of him!” cried Lestrade. He - darted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullying voice sounded - from the back room. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Watson, now!” cried Holmes with frenzied eagerness. All the - demoniacal force of the man masked behind that listless manner burst out - in a paroxysm of energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in an - instant was down on his hands and knees clawing at each of the squares of - wood beneath it. One turned sideways as he dug his nails into the edge of - it. It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavity opened - beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it and drew it out with a - bitter snarl of anger and disappointment. It was empty. - </p> - <p> - “Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!” The wooden lid was replaced, - and the drugget had only just been drawn straight when Lestrade’s voice - was heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaning languidly against the - mantelpiece, resigned and patient, endeavouring to conceal his - irrepressible yawns. - </p> - <p> - “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes, I can see that you are bored to - death with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed, all right. Come in - here, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hear of your most inexcusable - conduct.” - </p> - <p> - The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room. - </p> - <p> - “I meant no harm, sir, I’m sure. The young woman came to the door last - evening—mistook the house, she did. And then we got talking. It’s - lonesome, when you’re on duty here all day.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what happened then?” - </p> - <p> - “She wanted to see where the crime was done—had read about it in the - papers, she said. She was a very respectable, well-spoken young woman, - sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a peep. When she saw that mark - on the carpet, down she dropped on the floor, and lay as if she were dead. - I ran to the back and got some water, but I could not bring her to. Then I - went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by the time I - had brought it back the young woman had recovered and was off—ashamed - of herself, I daresay, and dared not face me.” - </p> - <p> - “How about moving that drugget?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back. You see, - she fell on it and it lies on a polished floor with nothing to keep it in - place. I straightened it out afterwards.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s a lesson to you that you can’t deceive me, Constable MacPherson,” - said Lestrade, with dignity. “No doubt you thought that your breach of - duty could never be discovered, and yet a mere glance at that drugget was - enough to convince me that someone had been admitted to the room. It’s - lucky for you, my man, that nothing is missing, or you would find yourself - in Queer Street. I’m sorry to have called you down over such a petty - business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the second stain not - corresponding with the first would interest you.” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only been here once, - constable?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, only once.” - </p> - <p> - “Who was she?” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement about - typewriting and came to the wrong number—very pleasant, genteel - young woman, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Tall? Handsome?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, she was a well-grown young woman. I suppose you might say she - was handsome. Perhaps some would say she was very handsome. ‘Oh, officer, - do let me have a peep!’ says she. She had pretty, coaxing ways, as you - might say, and I thought there was no harm in letting her just put her - head through the door.” - </p> - <p> - “How was she dressed?” - </p> - <p> - “Quiet, sir—a long mantle down to her feet.” - </p> - <p> - “What time was it?” - </p> - <p> - “It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the lamps as I - came back with the brandy.” - </p> - <p> - “Very good,” said Holmes. “Come, Watson, I think that we have more - important work elsewhere.” - </p> - <p> - As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room, while the - repentant constable opened the door to let us out. Holmes turned on the - step and held up something in his hand. The constable stared intently. - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord, sir!” he cried, with amazement on his face. Holmes put his - finger on his lips, replaced his hand in his breast pocket, and burst out - laughing as we turned down the street. “Excellent!” said he. “Come, friend - Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act. You will be relieved to - hear that there will be no war, that the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope - will suffer no setback in his brilliant career, that the indiscreet - Sovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion, that the Prime - Minister will have no European complication to deal with, and that with a - little tact and management upon our part nobody will be a penny the worse - for what might have been a very ugly incident.” - </p> - <p> - My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man. - </p> - <p> - “You have solved it!” I cried. - </p> - <p> - “Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as dark as ever. But - we have so much that it will be our own fault if we cannot get the rest. - We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace and bring the matter to a head.” - </p> - <p> - When we arrived at the residence of the European Secretary it was for Lady - Hilda Trelawney Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired. We were shown into the - morning-room. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes!” said the lady, and her face was pink with her indignation. - “This is surely most unfair and ungenerous upon your part. I desired, as I - have explained, to keep my visit to you a secret, lest my husband should - think that I was intruding into his affairs. And yet you compromise me by - coming here and so showing that there are business relations between us.” - </p> - <p> - “Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alternative. I have been - commissioned to recover this immensely important paper. I must therefore - ask you, madam, to be kind enough to place it in my hands.” - </p> - <p> - The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashed in an instant from - her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed—she tottered—I thought - that she would faint. Then with a grand effort she rallied from the shock, - and a supreme astonishment and indignation chased every other expression - from her features. - </p> - <p> - “You—you insult me, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter.” - </p> - <p> - She darted to the bell. - </p> - <p> - “The butler shall show you out.” - </p> - <p> - “Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest efforts to avoid - a scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter and all will be set - right. If you will work with me I can arrange everything. If you work - against me I must expose you.” - </p> - <p> - She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyes fixed upon his as if - she would read his very soul. Her hand was on the bell, but she had - forborne to ring it. - </p> - <p> - “You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manly thing, Mr. Holmes, - to come here and browbeat a woman. You say that you know something. What - is it that you know?” - </p> - <p> - “Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall. I will - not speak until you sit down. Thank you.” - </p> - <p> - “I give you five minutes, Mr. Holmes.” - </p> - <p> - “One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to Eduardo Lucas, of your - giving him this document, of your ingenious return to the room last night, - and of the manner in which you took the letter from the hiding-place under - the carpet.” - </p> - <p> - She stared at him with an ashen face and gulped twice before she could - speak. - </p> - <p> - “You are mad, Mr. Holmes—you are mad!” she cried, at last. - </p> - <p> - He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face of a - woman cut out of a portrait. - </p> - <p> - “I have carried this because I thought it might be useful,” said he. “The - policeman has recognized it.” - </p> - <p> - She gave a gasp, and her head dropped back in the chair. - </p> - <p> - “Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter may still be adjusted. - I have no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends when I have - returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and be frank with - me. It is your only chance.” - </p> - <p> - Her courage was admirable. Even now she would not own defeat. - </p> - <p> - “I tell you again, Mr. Holmes, that you are under some absurd illusion.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes rose from his chair. - </p> - <p> - “I am sorry for you, Lady Hilda. I have done my best for you. I can see - that it is all in vain.” - </p> - <p> - He rang the bell. The butler entered. - </p> - <p> - “Is Mr. Trelawney Hope at home?” - </p> - <p> - “He will be home, sir, at a quarter to one.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes glanced at his watch. - </p> - <p> - “Still a quarter of an hour,” said he. “Very good, I shall wait.” - </p> - <p> - The butler had hardly closed the door behind him when Lady Hilda was down - on her knees at Holmes’s feet, her hands outstretched, her beautiful face - upturned and wet with her tears. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!” she pleaded, in a frenzy of - supplication. “For heaven’s sake, don’t tell him! I love him so! I would - not bring one shadow on his life, and this I know would break his noble - heart.” - </p> - <p> - Holmes raised the lady. “I am thankful, madam, that you have come to your - senses even at this last moment! There is not an instant to lose. Where is - the letter?” - </p> - <p> - She darted across to a writing-desk, unlocked it, and drew out a long blue - envelope. - </p> - <p> - “Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Would to heaven I had never seen it!” - </p> - <p> - “How can we return it?” Holmes muttered. “Quick, quick, we must think of - some way! Where is the despatch-box?” - </p> - <p> - “Still in his bedroom.” - </p> - <p> - “What a stroke of luck! Quick, madam, bring it here!” A moment later she - had appeared with a red flat box in her hand. - </p> - <p> - “How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key? Yes, of course you - have. Open it!” - </p> - <p> - From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key. The box flew open. - It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust the blue envelope deep down into - the heart of them, between the leaves of some other document. The box was - shut, locked, and returned to the bedroom. - </p> - <p> - “Now we are ready for him,” said Holmes. “We have still ten minutes. I am - going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In return you will spend the time in - telling me frankly the real meaning of this extraordinary affair.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything,” cried the lady. “Oh, Mr. Holmes, - I would cut off my right hand before I gave him a moment of sorrow! There - is no woman in all London who loves her husband as I do, and yet if he - knew how I have acted—how I have been compelled to act—he - would never forgive me. For his own honour stands so high that he could - not forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! My - happiness, his happiness, our very lives are at stake!” - </p> - <p> - “Quick, madam, the time grows short!” - </p> - <p> - “It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letter written before - my marriage—a foolish letter, a letter of an impulsive, loving girl. - I meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had he read - that letter his confidence would have been forever destroyed. It is years - since I wrote it. I had thought that the whole matter was forgotten. Then - at last I heard from this man, Lucas, that it had passed into his hands, - and that he would lay it before my husband. I implored his mercy. He said - that he would return my letter if I would bring him a certain document - which he described in my husband’s despatch-box. He had some spy in the - office who had told him of its existence. He assured me that no harm could - come to my husband. Put yourself in my position, Mr. Holmes! What was I to - do?” - </p> - <p> - “Take your husband into your confidence.” - </p> - <p> - “I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemed certain - ruin, on the other, terrible as it seemed to take my husband’s paper, - still in a matter of politics I could not understand the consequences, - while in a matter of love and trust they were only too clear to me. I did - it, Mr. Holmes! I took an impression of his key. This man, Lucas, - furnished a duplicate. I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, and - conveyed it to Godolphin Street.” - </p> - <p> - “What happened there, madam?” - </p> - <p> - “I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed him into his - room, leaving the hall door ajar behind me, for I feared to be alone with - the man. I remember that there was a woman outside as I entered. Our - business was soon done. He had my letter on his desk, I handed him the - document. He gave me the letter. At this instant there was a sound at the - door. There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turned back the - drugget, thrust the document into some hiding-place there, and covered it - over. - </p> - <p> - “What happened after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision of a - dark, frantic face, of a woman’s voice, which screamed in French, ‘My - waiting is not in vain. At last, at last I have found you with her!’ There - was a savage struggle. I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knife gleamed - in hers. I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house, and only - next morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result. That night I - was happy, for I had my letter, and I had not seen yet what the future - would bring. - </p> - <p> - “It was the next morning that I realized that I had only exchanged one - trouble for another. My husband’s anguish at the loss of his paper went to - my heart. I could hardly prevent myself from there and then kneeling down - at his feet and telling him what I had done. But that again would mean a - confession of the past. I came to you that morning in order to understand - the full enormity of my offence. From the instant that I grasped it my - whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting back my husband’s - paper. It must still be where Lucas had placed it, for it was concealed - before this dreadful woman entered the room. If it had not been for her - coming, I should not have known where his hiding-place was. How was I to - get into the room? For two days I watched the place, but the door was - never left open. Last night I made a last attempt. What I did and how I - succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paper back with me, and - thought of destroying it, since I could see no way of returning it without - confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hear his step upon the - stair!” - </p> - <p> - The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room. “Any news, Mr. - Holmes, any news?” he cried. - </p> - <p> - “I have some hopes.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, thank heaven!” His face became radiant. “The Prime Minister is - lunching with me. May he share your hopes? He has nerves of steel, and yet - I know that he has hardly slept since this terrible event. Jacobs, will - you ask the Prime Minister to come up? As to you, dear, I fear that this - is a matter of politics. We will join you in a few minutes in the - dining-room.” - </p> - <p> - The Prime Minister’s manner was subdued, but I could see by the gleam of - his eyes and the twitchings of his bony hands that he shared the - excitement of his young colleague. - </p> - <p> - “I understand that you have something to report, Mr. Holmes?” - </p> - <p> - “Purely negative as yet,” my friend answered. “I have inquired at every - point where it might be, and I am sure that there is no danger to be - apprehended.” - </p> - <p> - “But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live forever on such a - volcano. We must have something definite.” - </p> - <p> - “I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here. The more I think of - the matter the more convinced I am that the letter has never left this - house.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes!” - </p> - <p> - “If it had it would certainly have been public by now.” - </p> - <p> - “But why should anyone take it in order to keep it in his house?” - </p> - <p> - “I am not convinced that anyone did take it.” - </p> - <p> - “Then how could it leave the despatch-box?” - </p> - <p> - “I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-timed. You have my assurance that it - left the box.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you examined the box since Tuesday morning?” - </p> - <p> - “No. It was not necessary.” - </p> - <p> - “You may conceivably have overlooked it.” - </p> - <p> - “Impossible, I say.” - </p> - <p> - “But I am not convinced of it. I have known such things to happen. I - presume there are other papers there. Well, it may have got mixed with - them.” - </p> - <p> - “It was on the top.” - </p> - <p> - “Someone may have shaken the box and displaced it.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, I had everything out.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely it is easily decided, Hope,” said the Premier. “Let us have the - despatch-box brought in.” - </p> - <p> - The Secretary rang the bell. - </p> - <p> - “Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical waste of time, but - still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shall be done. Thank you, - Jacobs, put it here. I have always had the key on my watch-chain. Here are - the papers, you see. Letter from Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles - Hardy, memorandum from Belgrade, note on the Russo-German grain taxes, - letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers——Good heavens! what - is this? Lord Bellinger! Lord Bellinger!” - </p> - <p> - The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is it—and the letter is intact. Hope, I congratulate you.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But this is - inconceivable—impossible. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard, a sorcerer! - How did you know it was there?” - </p> - <p> - “Because I knew it was nowhere else.” - </p> - <p> - “I cannot believe my eyes!” He ran wildly to the door. “Where is my wife? - I must tell her that all is well. Hilda! Hilda!” we heard his voice on the - stairs. - </p> - <p> - The Premier looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Come, sir,” said he. “There is more in this than meets the eye. How came - the letter back in the box?” - </p> - <p> - Holmes turned away smiling from the keen scrutiny of those wonderful eyes. - </p> - <p> - “We also have our diplomatic secrets,” said he and, picking up his hat, he - turned to the door. - </p> - -<p class="center"> -THE END -</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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