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diff --git a/1661-0.txt b/1661-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aad8f4c --- /dev/null +++ b/1661-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12306 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, +by Arthur Conan Doyle + +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 +www.gutenberg.org. 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. + +Title: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: November 29, 2002 [eBook #1661] +[Most recently updated: October 10, 2023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: an anonymous Project Gutenberg volunteer and Jose Menendez + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK +HOLMES *** + + + + +The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes + +by Arthur Conan Doyle + + +Contents + + I. A Scandal in Bohemia + II. The Red-Headed League + III. A Case of Identity + IV. The Boscombe Valley Mystery + V. The Five Orange Pips + VI. The Man with the Twisted Lip + VII. The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle + VIII. The Adventure of the Speckled Band + IX. The Adventure of the Engineer’s Thumb + X. The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor + XI. The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet + XII. The Adventure of the Copper Beeches + + + + +I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA + + +I. + +To Sherlock Holmes she is always _the_ woman. I have seldom heard him +mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and +predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion +akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, +were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He +was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that +the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a +false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe +and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for +drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained +reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely +adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might +throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive +instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not +be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And +yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene +Adler, of dubious and questionable memory. + +I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away +from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred +interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master +of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, +while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian +soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old +books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, +the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen +nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, +and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers of +observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those +mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official police. +From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: of his +summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his clearing up +of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and +finally of the mission which he had accomplished so delicately and +successfully for the reigning family of Holland. Beyond these signs of +his activity, however, which I merely shared with all the readers of +the daily press, I knew little of my former friend and companion. + +One night—it was on the twentieth of March, 1888—I was returning from a +journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil practice), when +my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered +door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and +with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a +keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his +extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I +looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette +against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his +head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who +knew his every mood and habit, his attitude and manner told their own +story. He was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-created +dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new problem. I rang the bell +and was shown up to the chamber which had formerly been in part my own. + +His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I think, +to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved +me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indicated a +spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he stood before the fire +and looked me over in his singular introspective fashion. + +“Wedlock suits you,” he remarked. “I think, Watson, that you have put +on seven and a half pounds since I saw you.” + +“Seven!” I answered. + +“Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, I +fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not tell me +that you intended to go into harness.” + +“Then, how do you know?” + +“I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting +yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and careless +servant girl?” + +“My dear Holmes,” said I, “this is too much. You would certainly have +been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had a +country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful mess, but as I +have changed my clothes I can’t imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary +Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has given her notice, but there, +again, I fail to see how you work it out.” + +He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together. + +“It is simplicity itself,” said he; “my eyes tell me that on the inside +of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, the leather is +scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have been caused by +someone who has very carelessly scraped round the edges of the sole in +order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence, you see, my double +deduction that you had been out in vile weather, and that you had a +particularly malignant boot-slitting specimen of the London slavey. As +to your practice, if a gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of +iodoform, with a black mark of nitrate of silver upon his right +forefinger, and a bulge on the right side of his top-hat to show where +he has secreted his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not +pronounce him to be an active member of the medical profession.” + +I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his +process of deduction. “When I hear you give your reasons,” I remarked, +“the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously simple that I +could easily do it myself, though at each successive instance of your +reasoning I am baffled until you explain your process. And yet I +believe that my eyes are as good as yours.” + +“Quite so,” he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing himself +down into an armchair. “You see, but you do not observe. The +distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen the steps +which lead up from the hall to this room.” + +“Frequently.” + +“How often?” + +“Well, some hundreds of times.” + +“Then how many are there?” + +“How many? I don’t know.” + +“Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is just +my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, because I have +both seen and observed. By the way, since you are interested in these +little problems, and since you are good enough to chronicle one or two +of my trifling experiences, you may be interested in this.” He threw +over a sheet of thick, pink-tinted notepaper which had been lying open +upon the table. “It came by the last post,” said he. “Read it aloud.” + +The note was undated, and without either signature or address. + +“There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight o’clock,” it +said, “a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the very +deepest moment. Your recent services to one of the royal houses of +Europe have shown that you are one who may safely be trusted with +matters which are of an importance which can hardly be exaggerated. +This account of you we have from all quarters received. Be in your +chamber then at that hour, and do not take it amiss if your visitor +wear a mask.” + +“This is indeed a mystery,” I remarked. “What do you imagine that it +means?” + +“I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorise before one has +data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of +theories to suit facts. But the note itself. What do you deduce from +it?” + +I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was +written. + +“The man who wrote it was presumably well to do,” I remarked, +endeavouring to imitate my companion’s processes. “Such paper could not +be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strong and +stiff.” + +“Peculiar—that is the very word,” said Holmes. “It is not an English +paper at all. Hold it up to the light.” + +I did so, and saw a large “E” with a small “g,” a “P,” and a large “G” +with a small “t” woven into the texture of the paper. + +“What do you make of that?” asked Holmes. + +“The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather.” + +“Not at all. The ‘G’ with the small ‘t’ stands for ‘Gesellschaft,’ +which is the German for ‘Company.’ It is a customary contraction like +our ‘Co.’ ‘P,’ of course, stands for ‘Papier.’ Now for the ‘Eg.’ Let us +glance at our Continental Gazetteer.” He took down a heavy brown volume +from his shelves. “Eglow, Eglonitz—here we are, Egria. It is in a +German-speaking country—in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. ‘Remarkable +as being the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous +glass-factories and paper-mills.’ Ha, ha, my boy, what do you make of +that?” His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue triumphant cloud +from his cigarette. + +“The paper was made in Bohemia,” I said. + +“Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you note the +peculiar construction of the sentence—‘This account of you we have from +all quarters received.’ A Frenchman or Russian could not have written +that. It is the German who is so uncourteous to his verbs. It only +remains, therefore, to discover what is wanted by this German who +writes upon Bohemian paper and prefers wearing a mask to showing his +face. And here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to resolve all our +doubts.” + +As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses’ hoofs and grating +wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes +whistled. + +“A pair, by the sound,” said he. “Yes,” he continued, glancing out of +the window. “A nice little brougham and a pair of beauties. A hundred +and fifty guineas apiece. There’s money in this case, Watson, if there +is nothing else.” + +“I think that I had better go, Holmes.” + +“Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell. +And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity to miss it.” + +“But your client—” + +“Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he comes. +Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best attention.” + +A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in the +passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there was a loud and +authoritative tap. + +“Come in!” said Holmes. + +A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six inches +in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His dress was rich +with a richness which would, in England, be looked upon as akin to bad +taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed across the sleeves and +fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was +thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-coloured silk and +secured at the neck with a brooch which consisted of a single flaming +beryl. Boots which extended halfway up his calves, and which were +trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur, completed the impression of +barbaric opulence which was suggested by his whole appearance. He +carried a broad-brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore across the upper +part of his face, extending down past the cheekbones, a black vizard +mask, which he had apparently adjusted that very moment, for his hand +was still raised to it as he entered. From the lower part of the face +he appeared to be a man of strong character, with a thick, hanging lip, +and a long, straight chin suggestive of resolution pushed to the length +of obstinacy. + +“You had my note?” he asked with a deep harsh voice and a strongly +marked German accent. “I told you that I would call.” He looked from +one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to address. + +“Pray take a seat,” said Holmes. “This is my friend and colleague, Dr. +Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases. Whom +have I the honour to address?” + +“You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I +understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour and +discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extreme +importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with you +alone.” + +I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into +my chair. “It is both, or none,” said he. “You may say before this +gentleman anything which you may say to me.” + +The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. “Then I must begin,” said he, +“by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at the end of +that time the matter will be of no importance. At present it is not too +much to say that it is of such weight it may have an influence upon +European history.” + +“I promise,” said Holmes. + +“And I.” + +“You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor. “The august +person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may +confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is +not exactly my own.” + +“I was aware of it,” said Holmes dryly. + +“The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to +be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and +seriously compromise one of the reigning families of Europe. To speak +plainly, the matter implicates the great House of Ormstein, hereditary +kings of Bohemia.” + +“I was also aware of that,” murmured Holmes, settling himself down in +his armchair and closing his eyes. + +Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, +lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him as the +most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes +slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his gigantic client. + +“If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” he remarked, “I +should be better able to advise you.” + +The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in +uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he tore +the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. “You are right,” +he cried; “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?” + +“Why, indeed?” murmured Holmes. “Your Majesty had not spoken before I +was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von +Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hereditary King of +Bohemia.” + +“But you can understand,” said our strange visitor, sitting down once +more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, “you can +understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in my own +person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not confide it to +an agent without putting myself in his power. I have come _incognito_ +from Prague for the purpose of consulting you.” + +“Then, pray consult,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. + +“The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a lengthy +visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-known adventuress, +Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you.” + +“Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor,” murmured Holmes without +opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of docketing +all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it was difficult to +name a subject or a person on which he could not at once furnish +information. In this case I found her biography sandwiched in between +that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a staff-commander who had written a +monograph upon the deep-sea fishes. + +“Let me see!” said Holmes. “Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year 1858. +Contralto—hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera of Warsaw—yes! +Retired from operatic stage—ha! Living in London—quite so! Your +Majesty, as I understand, became entangled with this young person, +wrote her some compromising letters, and is now desirous of getting +those letters back.” + +“Precisely so. But how—” + +“Was there a secret marriage?” + +“None.” + +“No legal papers or certificates?” + +“None.” + +“Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should +produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is she to +prove their authenticity?” + +“There is the writing.” + +“Pooh, pooh! Forgery.” + +“My private note-paper.” + +“Stolen.” + +“My own seal.” + +“Imitated.” + +“My photograph.” + +“Bought.” + +“We were both in the photograph.” + +“Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed committed an +indiscretion.” + +“I was mad—insane.” + +“You have compromised yourself seriously.” + +“I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now.” + +“It must be recovered.” + +“We have tried and failed.” + +“Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought.” + +“She will not sell.” + +“Stolen, then.” + +“Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked her +house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice she has +been waylaid. There has been no result.” + +“No sign of it?” + +“Absolutely none.” + +Holmes laughed. “It is quite a pretty little problem,” said he. + +“But a very serious one to me,” returned the King reproachfully. + +“Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the photograph?” + +“To ruin me.” + +“But how?” + +“I am about to be married.” + +“So I have heard.” + +“To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of the King of +Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of her family. She is +herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a doubt as to my conduct +would bring the matter to an end.” + +“And Irene Adler?” + +“Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I know that +she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul of steel. She +has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the mind of the most +resolute of men. Rather than I should marry another woman, there are no +lengths to which she would not go—none.” + +“You are sure that she has not sent it yet?” + +“I am sure.” + +“And why?” + +“Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the +betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday.” + +“Oh, then we have three days yet,” said Holmes with a yawn. “That is +very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to look into +just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in London for the +present?” + +“Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the Count +Von Kramm.” + +“Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress.” + +“Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety.” + +“Then, as to money?” + +“You have _carte blanche_.” + +“Absolutely?” + +“I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom to +have that photograph.” + +“And for present expenses?” + +The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak and laid +it on the table. + +“There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in notes,” he +said. + +Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and handed it +to him. + +“And Mademoiselle’s address?” he asked. + +“Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John’s Wood.” + +Holmes took a note of it. “One other question,” said he. “Was the +photograph a cabinet?” + +“It was.” + +“Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have +some good news for you. And good-night, Watson,” he added, as the +wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. “If you will be +good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three o’clock I should like +to chat this little matter over with you.” + + +II. + +At three o’clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not +yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house +shortly after eight o’clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire, +however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long he might be. +I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though it was +surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were +associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still, +the nature of the case and the exalted station of his client gave it a +character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the +investigation which my friend had on hand, there was something in his +masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which +made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the +quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most inextricable +mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success that the very +possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my head. + +It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking +groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed face and +disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my +friend’s amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look three +times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he +vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in five minutes +tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his +pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed +heartily for some minutes. + +“Well, really!” he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until he +was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair. + +“What is it?” + +“It’s quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed +my morning, or what I ended by doing.” + +“I can’t imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, and +perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler.” + +“Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however. +I left the house a little after eight o’clock this morning in the +character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and +freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of them, and you will know all +that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge. It is a _bijou_ +villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front right up to +the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room on +the right side, well furnished, with long windows almost to the floor, +and those preposterous English window fasteners which a child could +open. Behind there was nothing remarkable, save that the passage window +could be reached from the top of the coach-house. I walked round it and +examined it closely from every point of view, but without noting +anything else of interest. + +“I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there +was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent +the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in +exchange twopence, a glass of half-and-half, two fills of shag tobacco, +and as much information as I could desire about Miss Adler, to say +nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in whom I was +not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was compelled to +listen to.” + +“And what of Irene Adler?” I asked. + +“Oh, she has turned all the men’s heads down in that part. She is the +daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the +Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives +out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner. Seldom +goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only one male +visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dashing, +never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey +Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a +confidant. They had driven him home a dozen times from Serpentine-mews, +and knew all about him. When I had listened to all they had to tell, I +began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once more, and to think +over my plan of campaign. + +“This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter. +He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between +them, and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client, +his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably +transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less +likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should +continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my attention to the +gentleman’s chambers in the Temple. It was a delicate point, and it +widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these +details, but I have to let you see my little difficulties, if you are +to understand the situation.” + +“I am following you closely,” I answered. + +“I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab drove up +to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a remarkably +handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached—evidently the man of whom +I had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabman +to wait, and brushed past the maid who opened the door with the air of +a man who was thoroughly at home. + +“He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses of +him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and down, talking +excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing. Presently +he emerged, looking even more flurried than before. As he stepped up to +the cab, he pulled a gold watch from his pocket and looked at it +earnestly, ‘Drive like the devil,’ he shouted, ‘first to Gross & +Hankey’s in Regent Street, and then to the Church of St. Monica in the +Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if you do it in twenty minutes!’ + +“Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do well +to follow them when up the lane came a neat little landau, the coachman +with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie under his ear, while all +the tags of his harness were sticking out of the buckles. It hadn’t +pulled up before she shot out of the hall door and into it. I only +caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but she was a lovely woman, with +a face that a man might die for. + +“‘The Church of St. Monica, John,’ she cried, ‘and half a sovereign if +you reach it in twenty minutes.’ + +“This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing whether +I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her landau when a +cab came through the street. The driver looked twice at such a shabby +fare, but I jumped in before he could object. ‘The Church of St. +Monica,’ said I, ‘and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty +minutes.’ It was twenty-five minutes to twelve, and of course it was +clear enough what was in the wind. + +“My cabby drove fast. I don’t think I ever drove faster, but the others +were there before us. The cab and the landau with their steaming horses +were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the man and hurried +into the church. There was not a soul there save the two whom I had +followed and a surpliced clergyman, who seemed to be expostulating with +them. They were all three standing in a knot in front of the altar. I +lounged up the side aisle like any other idler who has dropped into a +church. Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to +me, and Godfrey Norton came running as hard as he could towards me. + +“‘Thank God,’ he cried. ‘You’ll do. Come! Come!’ + +“‘What then?’ I asked. + +“‘Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won’t be legal.’ + +“I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was I +found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, and +vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally assisting in +the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to Godfrey Norton, +bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and there was the gentleman +thanking me on the one side and the lady on the other, while the +clergyman beamed on me in front. It was the most preposterous position +in which I ever found myself in my life, and it was the thought of it +that started me laughing just now. It seems that there had been some +informality about their license, that the clergyman absolutely refused +to marry them without a witness of some sort, and that my lucky +appearance saved the bridegroom from having to sally out into the +streets in search of a best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and I +mean to wear it on my watch chain in memory of the occasion.” + +“This is a very unexpected turn of affairs,” said I; “and what then?” + +“Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if the +pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate very prompt +and energetic measures on my part. At the church door, however, they +separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to her own house. ‘I +shall drive out in the park at five as usual,’ she said as she left +him. I heard no more. They drove away in different directions, and I +went off to make my own arrangements.” + +“Which are?” + +“Some cold beef and a glass of beer,” he answered, ringing the bell. “I +have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be busier still +this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want your co-operation.” + +“I shall be delighted.” + +“You don’t mind breaking the law?” + +“Not in the least.” + +“Nor running a chance of arrest?” + +“Not in a good cause.” + +“Oh, the cause is excellent!” + +“Then I am your man.” + +“I was sure that I might rely on you.” + +“But what is it you wish?” + +“When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to you. +Now,” he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that our +landlady had provided, “I must discuss it while I eat, for I have not +much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on the scene +of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from her drive at +seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her.” + +“And what then?” + +“You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to occur. +There is only one point on which I must insist. You must not interfere, +come what may. You understand?” + +“I am to be neutral?” + +“To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small +unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being conveyed +into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the sitting-room window +will open. You are to station yourself close to that open window.” + +“Yes.” + +“You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you.” + +“Yes.” + +“And when I raise my hand—so—you will throw into the room what I give +you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of fire. You +quite follow me?” + +“Entirely.” + +“It is nothing very formidable,” he said, taking a long cigar-shaped +roll from his pocket. “It is an ordinary plumber’s smoke-rocket, fitted +with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting. Your task is +confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it will be taken up +by quite a number of people. You may then walk to the end of the +street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have made +myself clear?” + +“I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, and at +the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire, and +to wait you at the corner of the street.” + +“Precisely.” + +“Then you may entirely rely on me.” + +“That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I prepare +for the new role I have to play.” + +He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in the +character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. His +broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie, his sympathetic +smile, and general look of peering and benevolent curiosity were such +as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. It was not merely that +Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his manner, his very soul +seemed to vary with every fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a +fine actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when he became a +specialist in crime. + +It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still +wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in Serpentine +Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as +we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge, waiting for the coming +of its occupant. The house was just such as I had pictured it from +Sherlock Holmes’ succinct description, but the locality appeared to be +less private than I expected. On the contrary, for a small street in a +quiet neighbourhood, it was remarkably animated. There was a group of +shabbily dressed men smoking and laughing in a corner, a +scissors-grinder with his wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a +nurse-girl, and several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and +down with cigars in their mouths. + +“You see,” remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of the +house, “this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph becomes +a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she would be as averse +to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton, as our client is to its coming +to the eyes of his princess. Now the question is, Where are we to find +the photograph?” + +“Where, indeed?” + +“It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is cabinet +size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman’s dress. She knows +that the King is capable of having her waylaid and searched. Two +attempts of the sort have already been made. We may take it, then, that +she does not carry it about with her.” + +“Where, then?” + +“Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I am +inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they like +to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to anyone else? +She could trust her own guardianship, but she could not tell what +indirect or political influence might be brought to bear upon a +business man. Besides, remember that she had resolved to use it within +a few days. It must be where she can lay her hands upon it. It must be +in her own house.” + +“But it has twice been burgled.” + +“Pshaw! They did not know how to look.” + +“But how will you look?” + +“I will not look.” + +“What then?” + +“I will get her to show me.” + +“But she will refuse.” + +“She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is her +carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter.” + +As he spoke the gleam of the sidelights of a carriage came round the +curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which rattled up to +the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the loafing men at +the corner dashed forward to open the door in the hope of earning a +copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer, who had rushed up with +the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke out, which was increased by +the two guardsmen, who took sides with one of the loungers, and by the +scissors-grinder, who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was +struck, and in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, +was the centre of a little knot of flushed and struggling men, who +struck savagely at each other with their fists and sticks. Holmes +dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but, just as he reached her, +he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, with the blood running freely +down his face. At his fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one +direction and the loungers in the other, while a number of better +dressed people, who had watched the scuffle without taking part in it, +crowded in to help the lady and to attend to the injured man. Irene +Adler, as I will still call her, had hurried up the steps; but she +stood at the top with her superb figure outlined against the lights of +the hall, looking back into the street. + +“Is the poor gentleman much hurt?” she asked. + +“He is dead,” cried several voices. + +“No, no, there’s life in him!” shouted another. “But he’ll be gone +before you can get him to hospital.” + +“He’s a brave fellow,” said a woman. “They would have had the lady’s +purse and watch if it hadn’t been for him. They were a gang, and a +rough one, too. Ah, he’s breathing now.” + +“He can’t lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?” + +“Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortable sofa. +This way, please!” + +Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out in the +principal room, while I still observed the proceedings from my post by +the window. The lamps had been lit, but the blinds had not been drawn, +so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do not know +whether he was seized with compunction at that moment for the part he +was playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of +myself in my life than when I saw the beautiful creature against whom I +was conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she waited upon +the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treachery to Holmes +to draw back now from the part which he had intrusted to me. I hardened +my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from under my ulster. After all, I +thought, we are not injuring her. We are but preventing her from +injuring another. + +Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man who +is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the window. At +the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the signal I tossed my +rocket into the room with a cry of “Fire!” The word was no sooner out +of my mouth than the whole crowd of spectators, well dressed and +ill—gentlemen, ostlers, and servant maids—joined in a general shriek of +“Fire!” Thick clouds of smoke curled through the room and out at the +open window. I caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a moment later +the voice of Holmes from within assuring them that it was a false +alarm. Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way to the corner +of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend’s arm +in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. He walked swiftly +and in silence for some few minutes until we had turned down one of the +quiet streets which lead towards the Edgeware Road. + +“You did it very nicely, Doctor,” he remarked. “Nothing could have been +better. It is all right.” + +“You have the photograph?” + +“I know where it is.” + +“And how did you find out?” + +“She showed me, as I told you she would.” + +“I am still in the dark.” + +“I do not wish to make a mystery,” said he, laughing. “The matter was +perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the street was +an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening.” + +“I guessed as much.” + +“Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the +palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my +face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick.” + +“That also I could fathom.” + +“Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else could +she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room which I +suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was determined to +see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, they were +compelled to open the window, and you had your chance.” + +“How did that help you?” + +“It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, +her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. It +is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more than once taken +advantage of it. In the case of the Darlington Substitution Scandal it +was of use to me, and also in the Arnsworth Castle business. A married +woman grabs at her baby; an unmarried one reaches for her jewel-box. +Now it was clear to me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house +more precious to her than what we are in quest of. She would rush to +secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably done. The smoke and shouting +were enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded beautifully. The +photograph is in a recess behind a sliding panel just above the right +bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of it as +she half drew it out. When I cried out that it was a false alarm, she +replaced it, glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room, and I have +not seen her since. I rose, and, making my excuses, escaped from the +house. I hesitated whether to attempt to secure the photograph at once; +but the coachman had come in, and as he was watching me narrowly, it +seemed safer to wait. A little over-precipitance may ruin all.” + +“And now?” I asked. + +“Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King +to-morrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be shown +into the sitting-room to wait for the lady, but it is probable that +when she comes she may find neither us nor the photograph. It might be +a satisfaction to his Majesty to regain it with his own hands.” + +“And when will you call?” + +“At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall have a +clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a +complete change in her life and habits. I must wire to the King without +delay.” + +We had reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He was +searching his pockets for the key when someone passing said: + +“Good-night, Mister Sherlock Holmes.” + +There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the greeting +appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who had hurried by. + +“I’ve heard that voice before,” said Holmes, staring down the dimly lit +street. “Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have been.” + + +III. + +I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast +and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into the +room. + +“You have really got it!” he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by either +shoulder and looking eagerly into his face. + +“Not yet.” + +“But you have hopes?” + +“I have hopes.” + +“Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone.” + +“We must have a cab.” + +“No, my brougham is waiting.” + +“Then that will simplify matters.” We descended and started off once +more for Briony Lodge. + +“Irene Adler is married,” remarked Holmes. + +“Married! When?” + +“Yesterday.” + +“But to whom?” + +“To an English lawyer named Norton.” + +“But she could not love him.” + +“I am in hopes that she does.” + +“And why in hopes?” + +“Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future annoyance. If +the lady loves her husband, she does not love your Majesty. If she does +not love your Majesty, there is no reason why she should interfere with +your Majesty’s plan.” + +“It is true. And yet—! Well! I wish she had been of my own station! +What a queen she would have made!” He relapsed into a moody silence, +which was not broken until we drew up in Serpentine Avenue. + +The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood upon the +steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the +brougham. + +“Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?” said she. + +“I am Mr. Holmes,” answered my companion, looking at her with a +questioning and rather startled gaze. + +“Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She left +this morning with her husband by the 5:15 train from Charing Cross for +the Continent.” + +“What!” Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and +surprise. “Do you mean that she has left England?” + +“Never to return.” + +“And the papers?” asked the King hoarsely. “All is lost.” + +“We shall see.” He pushed past the servant and rushed into the +drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was +scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open +drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before her flight. +Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding shutter, and, +plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and a letter. The +photograph was of Irene Adler herself in evening dress, the letter was +superscribed to “Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called for.” My +friend tore it open, and we all three read it together. It was dated at +midnight of the preceding night and ran in this way: + + “MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,—You really did it very well. You took + me in completely. Until after the alarm of fire, I had not a + suspicion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed myself, I + began to think. I had been warned against you months ago. I had + been told that, if the King employed an agent, it would certainly + be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with all this, you + made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I became + suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old + clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself. + Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of the + freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you, + ran upstairs, got into my walking clothes, as I call them, and came + down just as you departed. + + “Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was + really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. + Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for + the Temple to see my husband. + + “We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so + formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when you + call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in + peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may do + what he will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly + wronged. I keep it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a + weapon which will always secure me from any steps which he might + take in the future. I leave a photograph which he might care to + possess; and I remain, dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, + + + “Very truly yours, + + “IRENE NORTON, _née_ ADLER.” + + +“What a woman—oh, what a woman!” cried the King of Bohemia, when we had +all three read this epistle. “Did I not tell you how quick and resolute +she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it not a pity +that she was not on my level?” + +“From what I have seen of the lady, she seems, indeed, to be on a very +different level to your Majesty,” said Holmes coldly. “I am sorry that +I have not been able to bring your Majesty’s business to a more +successful conclusion.” + +“On the contrary, my dear sir,” cried the King; “nothing could be more +successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is now as +safe as if it were in the fire.” + +“I am glad to hear your Majesty say so.” + +“I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can reward +you. This ring—” He slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger and +held it out upon the palm of his hand. + +“Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly,” +said Holmes. + +“You have but to name it.” + +“This photograph!” + +The King stared at him in amazement. + +“Irene’s photograph!” he cried. “Certainly, if you wish it.” + +“I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the matter. +I have the honour to wish you a very good morning.” He bowed, and, +turning away without observing the hand which the King had stretched +out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers. + +And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of +Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a +woman’s wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I +have not heard him do it of late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or +when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the honourable +title of _the_ woman. + + + + +II. THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE + + + I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the + autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very + stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. With an + apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when Holmes pulled + me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me. + +“You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear Watson,” he +said cordially. + +“I was afraid that you were engaged.” + +“So I am. Very much so.” + +“Then I can wait in the next room.” + +“Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and helper +in many of my most successful cases, and I have no doubt that he will +be of the utmost use to me in yours also.” + +The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of +greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small +fat-encircled eyes. + +“Try the settee,” said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair and putting +his fingertips together, as was his custom when in judicial moods. “I +know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and +outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday life. You have +shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you to +chronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellish +so many of my own little adventures.” + +“Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me,” I +observed. + +“You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we went +into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, that +for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life +itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the +imagination.” + +“A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting.” + +“You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view, for +otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your +reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now, Mr. +Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this morning, +and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the most singular +which I have listened to for some time. You have heard me remark that +the strangest and most unique things are very often connected not with +the larger but with the smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, where +there is room for doubt whether any positive crime has been committed. +As far as I have heard, it is impossible for me to say whether the +present case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of events +is certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to. +Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommence +your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend Dr. Watson has +not heard the opening part but also because the peculiar nature of the +story makes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips. As +a rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course of +events, I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similar +cases which occur to my memory. In the present instance I am forced to +admit that the facts are, to the best of my belief, unique.” + +The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some +little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the inside +pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column, +with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon his knee, +I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the fashion of my +companion, to read the indications which might be presented by his +dress or appearance. + +I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore +every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese, +pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd’s check trousers, +a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front, and a drab +waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of +metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat and a faded brown +overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him. +Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the man +save his blazing red head, and the expression of extreme chagrin and +discontent upon his features. + +Sherlock Holmes’ quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his head +with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. “Beyond the obvious +facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he takes snuff, +that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and that he has done +a considerable amount of writing lately, I can deduce nothing else.” + +Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon the +paper, but his eyes upon my companion. + +“How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr. Holmes?” +he asked. “How did you know, for example, that I did manual labour. +It’s as true as gospel, for I began as a ship’s carpenter.” + +“Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger than +your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more +developed.” + +“Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?” + +“I won’t insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that, +especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use +an arc-and-compass breastpin.” + +“Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?” + +“What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for five +inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where you +rest it upon the desk?” + +“Well, but China?” + +“The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist +could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of tattoo +marks and have even contributed to the literature of the subject. That +trick of staining the fishes’ scales of a delicate pink is quite +peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin hanging from +your watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple.” + +Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. “Well, I never!” said he. “I thought +at first that you had done something clever, but I see that there was +nothing in it after all.” + +“I begin to think, Watson,” said Holmes, “that I make a mistake in +explaining. ‘_Omne ignotum pro magnifico_,’ you know, and my poor +little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so +candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?” + +“Yes, I have got it now,” he answered with his thick red finger planted +halfway down the column. “Here it is. This is what began it all. You +just read it for yourself, sir.” + +I took the paper from him and read as follows: + +“TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: On account of the bequest of the late +Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U.S.A., there is now another +vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a salary of £ 4 a +week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men who are sound in +body and mind and above the age of twenty-one years, are eligible. +Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to Duncan Ross, at the +offices of the League, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.” + + +“What on earth does this mean?” I ejaculated after I had twice read +over the extraordinary announcement. + +Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when in +high spirits. “It is a little off the beaten track, isn’t it?” said he. +“And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us all about +yourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement had +upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, Doctor, of the paper +and the date.” + +“It is _The Morning Chronicle_ of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago.” + +“Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?” + +“Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” +said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; “I have a small pawnbroker’s +business at Coburg Square, near the City. It’s not a very large affair, +and of late years it has not done more than just give me a living. I +used to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep one; and I +would have a job to pay him but that he is willing to come for half +wages so as to learn the business.” + +“What is the name of this obliging youth?” asked Sherlock Holmes. + +“His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he’s not such a youth, either. It’s +hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr. Holmes; +and I know very well that he could better himself and earn twice what I +am able to give him. But, after all, if he is satisfied, why should I +put ideas in his head?” + +“Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an _employé_ who comes +under the full market price. It is not a common experience among +employers in this age. I don’t know that your assistant is not as +remarkable as your advertisement.” + +“Oh, he has his faults, too,” said Mr. Wilson. “Never was such a fellow +for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought to be +improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a rabbit +into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his main fault, but on +the whole he’s a good worker. There’s no vice in him.” + +“He is still with you, I presume?” + +“Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple cooking +and keeps the place clean—that’s all I have in the house, for I am a +widower and never had any family. We live very quietly, sir, the three +of us; and we keep a roof over our heads and pay our debts, if we do +nothing more. + +“The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, he +came down into the office just this day eight weeks, with this very +paper in his hand, and he says: + +“‘I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.’ + +“‘Why that?’ I asks. + +“‘Why,’ says he, ‘here’s another vacancy on the League of the +Red-headed Men. It’s worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets +it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there are men, +so that the trustees are at their wits’ end what to do with the money. +If my hair would only change colour, here’s a nice little crib all +ready for me to step into.’ + +“‘Why, what is it, then?’ I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a very +stay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of my having to +go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over the +door-mat. In that way I didn’t know much of what was going on outside, +and I was always glad of a bit of news. + +“‘Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?’ he asked +with his eyes open. + +“‘Never.’ + +“‘Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one of the +vacancies.’ + +“‘And what are they worth?’ I asked. + +“‘Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, and it +need not interfere very much with one’s other occupations.’ + +“Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, for the +business has not been over good for some years, and an extra couple of +hundred would have been very handy. + +“‘Tell me all about it,’ said I. + +“‘Well,’ said he, showing me the advertisement, ‘you can see for +yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address where +you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, the League +was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins, who was very +peculiar in his ways. He was himself red-headed, and he had a great +sympathy for all red-headed men; so, when he died, it was found that he +had left his enormous fortune in the hands of trustees, with +instructions to apply the interest to the providing of easy berths to +men whose hair is of that colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay +and very little to do.’ + +“‘But,’ said I, ‘there would be millions of red-headed men who would +apply.’ + +“‘Not so many as you might think,’ he answered. ‘You see it is really +confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had started from +London when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a good turn. +Then, again, I have heard it is no use your applying if your hair is +light red, or dark red, or anything but real bright, blazing, fiery +red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. Wilson, you would just walk in; +but perhaps it would hardly be worth your while to put yourself out of +the way for the sake of a few hundred pounds.’ + +“Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, that my +hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to me that if +there was to be any competition in the matter I stood as good a chance +as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know so +much about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just ordered +him to put up the shutters for the day and to come right away with me. +He was very willing to have a holiday, so we shut the business up and +started off for the address that was given us in the advertisement. + +“I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. From +north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in his +hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. Fleet +Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope’s Court looked like a +coster’s orange barrow. I should not have thought there were so many in +the whole country as were brought together by that single +advertisement. Every shade of colour they were—straw, lemon, orange, +brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there were +not many who had the real vivid flame-coloured tint. When I saw how +many were waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding +would not hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushed +and pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up +to the steps which led to the office. There was a double stream upon +the stair, some going up in hope, and some coming back dejected; but we +wedged in as well as we could and soon found ourselves in the office.” + +“Your experience has been a most entertaining one,” remarked Holmes as +his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge pinch of snuff. +“Pray continue your very interesting statement.” + +“There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a +deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that was even +redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he came up, +and then he always managed to find some fault in them which would +disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such a very easy +matter, after all. However, when our turn came the little man was much +more favourable to me than to any of the others, and he closed the door +as we entered, so that he might have a private word with us. + +“‘This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant, ‘and he is willing to +fill a vacancy in the League.’ + +“‘And he is admirably suited for it,’ the other answered. ‘He has every +requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so fine.’ He +took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and gazed at my hair +until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged forward, wrung my +hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success. + +“‘It would be injustice to hesitate,’ said he. ‘You will, however, I am +sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.’ With that he seized +my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I yelled with the pain. +‘There is water in your eyes,’ said he as he released me. ‘I perceive +that all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for we have +twice been deceived by wigs and once by paint. I could tell you tales +of cobbler’s wax which would disgust you with human nature.’ He stepped +over to the window and shouted through it at the top of his voice that +the vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below, +and the folk all trooped away in different directions until there was +not a red-head to be seen except my own and that of the manager. + +“‘My name,’ said he, ‘is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of the +pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are you a +married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?’ + +“I answered that I had not. + +“His face fell immediately. + +“‘Dear me!’ he said gravely, ‘that is very serious indeed! I am sorry +to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the propagation and +spread of the red-heads as well as for their maintenance. It is +exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a bachelor.’ + +“My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was not +to have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for a few +minutes he said that it would be all right. + +“‘In the case of another,’ said he, ‘the objection might be fatal, but +we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a head of hair as +yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your new duties?’ + +“‘Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,’ said I. + +“‘Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!’ said Vincent Spaulding. ‘I +should be able to look after that for you.’ + +“‘What would be the hours?’ I asked. + +“‘Ten to two.’ + +“Now a pawnbroker’s business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. Holmes, +especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before pay-day; +so it would suit me very well to earn a little in the mornings. +Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that he would see +to anything that turned up. + +“‘That would suit me very well,’ said I. ‘And the pay?’ + +“‘Is £ 4 a week.’ + +“‘And the work?’ + +“‘Is purely nominal.’ + +“‘What do you call purely nominal?’ + +“‘Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building, the +whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole position forever. The +will is very clear upon that point. You don’t comply with the +conditions if you budge from the office during that time.’ + +“‘It’s only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,’ said +I. + +“‘No excuse will avail,’ said Mr. Duncan Ross; ‘neither sickness nor +business nor anything else. There you must stay, or you lose your +billet.’ + +“‘And the work?’ + +“‘Is to copy out the _Encyclopædia Britannica_. There is the first +volume of it in that press. You must find your own ink, pens, and +blotting-paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be ready +to-morrow?’ + +“‘Certainly,’ I answered. + +“‘Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you once +more on the important position which you have been fortunate enough to +gain.’ He bowed me out of the room and I went home with my assistant, +hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased at my own good +fortune. + +“Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in low +spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that the whole affair +must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its object might be I +could not imagine. It seemed altogether past belief that anyone could +make such a will, or that they would pay such a sum for doing anything +so simple as copying out the _Encyclopædia Britannica_. Vincent +Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up, but by bedtime I had +reasoned myself out of the whole thing. However, in the morning I +determined to have a look at it anyhow, so I bought a penny bottle of +ink, and with a quill-pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, I +started off for Pope’s Court. + +“Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as possible. +The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was there to +see that I got fairly to work. He started me off upon the letter A, and +then he left me; but he would drop in from time to time to see that all +was right with me. At two o’clock he bade me good-day, complimented me +upon the amount that I had written, and locked the door of the office +after me. + +“This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the manager +came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my week’s work. It +was the same next week, and the same the week after. Every morning I +was there at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. By degrees Mr. +Duncan Ross took to coming in only once of a morning, and then, after a +time, he did not come in at all. Still, of course, I never dared to +leave the room for an instant, for I was not sure when he might come, +and the billet was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I would +not risk the loss of it. + +“Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about Abbots and +Archery and Armour and Architecture and Attica, and hoped with +diligence that I might get on to the B’s before very long. It cost me +something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly filled a shelf with my +writings. And then suddenly the whole business came to an end.” + +“To an end?” + +“Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work as usual +at ten o’clock, but the door was shut and locked, with a little square +of cardboard hammered on to the middle of the panel with a tack. Here +it is, and you can read for yourself.” + +He held up a piece of white cardboard about the size of a sheet of +note-paper. It read in this fashion: + +“THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE IS DISSOLVED. October 9, 1890.” + + +Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the rueful +face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completely +overtopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a roar +of laughter. + +“I cannot see that there is anything very funny,” cried our client, +flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. “If you can do nothing +better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere.” + +“No, no,” cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from which he +had half risen. “I really wouldn’t miss your case for the world. It is +most refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you will excuse my saying +so, something just a little funny about it. Pray what steps did you +take when you found the card upon the door?” + +“I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called at the +offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about it. +Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the +ground floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of +the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of any such +body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that the +name was new to him. + +“‘Well,’ said I, ‘the gentleman at No. 4.’ + +“‘What, the red-headed man?’ + +“‘Yes.’ + +“‘Oh,’ said he, ‘his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor and +was using my room as a temporary convenience until his new premises +were ready. He moved out yesterday.’ + +“‘Where could I find him?’ + +“‘Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17 King +Edward Street, near St. Paul’s.’ + +“I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was a +manufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had ever heard of +either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.” + +“And what did you do then?” asked Holmes. + +“I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my +assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say that +if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good enough, +Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place without a struggle, so, +as I had heard that you were good enough to give advice to poor folk +who were in need of it, I came right away to you.” + +“And you did very wisely,” said Holmes. “Your case is an exceedingly +remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. From what you +have told me I think that it is possible that graver issues hang from +it than might at first sight appear.” + +“Grave enough!” said Mr. Jabez Wilson. “Why, I have lost four pound a +week.” + +“As far as you are personally concerned,” remarked Holmes, “I do not +see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary league. On +the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some £ 30, to say +nothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every subject +which comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing by them.” + +“No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and what +their object was in playing this prank—if it was a prank—upon me. It +was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them two and thirty +pounds.” + +“We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, one +or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first called +your attention to the advertisement—how long had he been with you?” + +“About a month then.” + +“How did he come?” + +“In answer to an advertisement.” + +“Was he the only applicant?” + +“No, I had a dozen.” + +“Why did you pick him?” + +“Because he was handy and would come cheap.” + +“At half wages, in fact.” + +“Yes.” + +“What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?” + +“Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, +though he’s not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon his +forehead.” + +Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. “I thought as +much,” said he. “Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced for +earrings?” + +“Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he was a +lad.” + +“Hum!” said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. “He is still with +you?” + +“Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him.” + +“And has your business been attended to in your absence?” + +“Nothing to complain of, sir. There’s never very much to do of a +morning.” + +“That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion upon +the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, and I +hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion.” + +“Well, Watson,” said Holmes when our visitor had left us, “what do you +make of it all?” + +“I make nothing of it,” I answered frankly. “It is a most mysterious +business.” + +“As a rule,” said Holmes, “the more bizarre a thing is the less +mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes +which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most +difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter.” + +“What are you going to do, then?” I asked. + +“To smoke,” he answered. “It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg +that you won’t speak to me for fifty minutes.” He curled himself up in +his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his hawk-like nose, and +there he sat with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting out +like the bill of some strange bird. I had come to the conclusion that +he had dropped asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenly +sprang out of his chair with the gesture of a man who has made up his +mind and put his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. + +“Sarasate plays at the St. James’s Hall this afternoon,” he remarked. +“What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few +hours?” + +“I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing.” + +“Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first, and +we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is a good deal +of German music on the programme, which is rather more to my taste than +Italian or French. It is introspective, and I want to introspect. Come +along!” + +We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short walk +took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story which we +had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, little, shabby-genteel +place, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick houses looked out +into a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass and a few +clumps of faded laurel bushes made a hard fight against a smoke-laden +and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with +“JABEZ WILSON” in white letters, upon a corner house, announced the +place where our red-headed client carried on his business. Sherlock +Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side and looked it +all over, with his eyes shining brightly between puckered lids. Then he +walked slowly up the street, and then down again to the corner, still +looking keenly at the houses. Finally he returned to the pawnbroker’s, +and, having thumped vigorously upon the pavement with his stick two or +three times, he went up to the door and knocked. It was instantly +opened by a bright-looking, clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him to +step in. + +“Thank you,” said Holmes, “I only wished to ask you how you would go +from here to the Strand.” + +“Third right, fourth left,” answered the assistant promptly, closing +the door. + +“Smart fellow, that,” observed Holmes as we walked away. “He is, in my +judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am not +sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of him +before.” + +“Evidently,” said I, “Mr. Wilson’s assistant counts for a good deal in +this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you inquired your +way merely in order that you might see him.” + +“Not him.” + +“What then?” + +“The knees of his trousers.” + +“And what did you see?” + +“What I expected to see.” + +“Why did you beat the pavement?” + +“My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We are +spies in an enemy’s country. We know something of Saxe-Coburg Square. +Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it.” + +The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the corner from +the retired Saxe-Coburg Square presented as great a contrast to it as +the front of a picture does to the back. It was one of the main +arteries which conveyed the traffic of the City to the north and west. +The roadway was blocked with the immense stream of commerce flowing in +a double tide inward and outward, while the footpaths were black with +the hurrying swarm of pedestrians. It was difficult to realise as we +looked at the line of fine shops and stately business premises that +they really abutted on the other side upon the faded and stagnant +square which we had just quitted. + +“Let me see,” said Holmes, standing at the corner and glancing along +the line, “I should like just to remember the order of the houses here. +It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of London. There is +Mortimer’s, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the Coburg +branch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, and +McFarlane’s carriage-building depot. That carries us right on to the +other block. And now, Doctor, we’ve done our work, so it’s time we had +some play. A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land, +where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony, and there are no +red-headed clients to vex us with their conundrums.” + +My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a very +capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All the +afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness, +gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while his +gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those +of Holmes the sleuth-hound, Holmes the relentless, keen-witted, +ready-handed criminal agent, as it was possible to conceive. In his +singular character the dual nature alternately asserted itself, and his +extreme exactness and astuteness represented, as I have often thought, +the reaction against the poetic and contemplative mood which +occasionally predominated in him. The swing of his nature took him from +extreme languor to devouring energy; and, as I knew well, he was never +so truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been lounging in +his armchair amid his improvisations and his black-letter editions. +Then it was that the lust of the chase would suddenly come upon him, +and that his brilliant reasoning power would rise to the level of +intuition, until those who were unacquainted with his methods would +look askance at him as on a man whose knowledge was not that of other +mortals. When I saw him that afternoon so enwrapped in the music at St. +James’s Hall I felt that an evil time might be coming upon those whom +he had set himself to hunt down. + +“You want to go home, no doubt, Doctor,” he remarked as we emerged. + +“Yes, it would be as well.” + +“And I have some business to do which will take some hours. This +business at Coburg Square is serious.” + +“Why serious?” + +“A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason to +believe that we shall be in time to stop it. But to-day being Saturday +rather complicates matters. I shall want your help to-night.” + +“At what time?” + +“Ten will be early enough.” + +“I shall be at Baker Street at ten.” + +“Very well. And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, so +kindly put your army revolver in your pocket.” He waved his hand, +turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the crowd. + +I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbours, but I was always +oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings with Sherlock +Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what he had +seen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw clearly not +only what had happened but what was about to happen, while to me the +whole business was still confused and grotesque. As I drove home to my +house in Kensington I thought over it all, from the extraordinary story +of the red-headed copier of the _Encyclopædia_ down to the visit to +Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous words with which he had parted from +me. What was this nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed? +Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from Holmes +that this smooth-faced pawnbroker’s assistant was a formidable man—a +man who might play a deep game. I tried to puzzle it out, but gave it +up in despair and set the matter aside until night should bring an +explanation. + +It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my way +across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two +hansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered the passage I heard +the sound of voices from above. On entering his room, I found Holmes in +animated conversation with two men, one of whom I recognised as Peter +Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long, thin, +sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and oppressively respectable +frock-coat. + +“Ha! Our party is complete,” said Holmes, buttoning up his pea-jacket +and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. “Watson, I think you +know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr. +Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night’s adventure.” + +“We’re hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see,” said Jones in his +consequential way. “Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting a +chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running down.” + +“I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase,” +observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily. + +“You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir,” said the +police agent loftily. “He has his own little methods, which are, if he +won’t mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical and fantastic, +but he has the makings of a detective in him. It is not too much to say +that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto murder and the +Agra treasure, he has been more nearly correct than the official +force.” + +“Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right,” said the stranger with +deference. “Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is the first +Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had my +rubber.” + +“I think you will find,” said Sherlock Holmes, “that you will play for +a higher stake to-night than you have ever done yet, and that the play +will be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake will be +some £ 30,000; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you +wish to lay your hands.” + +“John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He’s a young man, +Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I would +rather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He’s a +remarkable man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke, +and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning as +his fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every turn, we never +know where to find the man himself. He’ll crack a crib in Scotland one +week, and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next. +I’ve been on his track for years and have never set eyes on him yet.” + +“I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to-night. I’ve +had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I agree with +you that he is at the head of his profession. It is past ten, however, +and quite time that we started. If you two will take the first hansom, +Watson and I will follow in the second.” + +Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive and +lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in the +afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit streets +until we emerged into Farrington Street. + +“We are close there now,” my friend remarked. “This fellow Merryweather +is a bank director, and personally interested in the matter. I thought +it as well to have Jones with us also. He is not a bad fellow, though +an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one positive virtue. He +is as brave as a bulldog and as tenacious as a lobster if he gets his +claws upon anyone. Here we are, and they are waiting for us.” + +We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had found +ourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, following the +guidance of Mr. Merryweather, we passed down a narrow passage and +through a side door, which he opened for us. Within there was a small +corridor, which ended in a very massive iron gate. This also was +opened, and led down a flight of winding stone steps, which terminated +at another formidable gate. Mr. Merryweather stopped to light a +lantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smelling passage, and +so, after opening a third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which was +piled all round with crates and massive boxes. + +“You are not very vulnerable from above,” Holmes remarked as he held up +the lantern and gazed about him. + +“Nor from below,” said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon the +flags which lined the floor. “Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow!” he +remarked, looking up in surprise. + +“I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!” said Holmes +severely. “You have already imperilled the whole success of our +expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit down +upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?” + +The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a very +injured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his knees upon +the floor and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens, began to examine +minutely the cracks between the stones. A few seconds sufficed to +satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again and put his glass in his +pocket. + +“We have at least an hour before us,” he remarked, “for they can hardly +take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. Then they +will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their work the longer +time they will have for their escape. We are at present, Doctor—as no +doubt you have divined—in the cellar of the City branch of one of the +principal London banks. Mr. Merryweather is the chairman of directors, +and he will explain to you that there are reasons why the more daring +criminals of London should take a considerable interest in this cellar +at present.” + +“It is our French gold,” whispered the director. “We have had several +warnings that an attempt might be made upon it.” + +“Your French gold?” + +“Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources and +borrowed for that purpose 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France. It +has become known that we have never had occasion to unpack the money, +and that it is still lying in our cellar. The crate upon which I sit +contains 2,000 napoleons packed between layers of lead foil. Our +reserve of bullion is much larger at present than is usually kept in a +single branch office, and the directors have had misgivings upon the +subject.” + +“Which were very well justified,” observed Holmes. “And now it is time +that we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an hour matters +will come to a head. In the meantime Mr. Merryweather, we must put the +screen over that dark lantern.” + +“And sit in the dark?” + +“I am afraid so. I had brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and I +thought that, as we were a _partie carrée_, you might have your rubber +after all. But I see that the enemy’s preparations have gone so far +that we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, first of all, we must +choose our positions. These are daring men, and though we shall take +them at a disadvantage, they may do us some harm unless we are careful. +I shall stand behind this crate, and do you conceal yourselves behind +those. Then, when I flash a light upon them, close in swiftly. If they +fire, Watson, have no compunction about shooting them down.” + +I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behind +which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of his lantern +and left us in pitch darkness—such an absolute darkness as I have never +before experienced. The smell of hot metal remained to assure us that +the light was still there, ready to flash out at a moment’s notice. To +me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch of expectancy, there was +something depressing and subduing in the sudden gloom, and in the cold +dank air of the vault. + +“They have but one retreat,” whispered Holmes. “That is back through +the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have done what I +asked you, Jones?” + +“I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door.” + +“Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and +wait.” + +What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but an +hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have +almost gone, and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary and +stiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my nerves were worked up +to the highest pitch of tension, and my hearing was so acute that I +could not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I could +distinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of the bulky Jones from the +thin, sighing note of the bank director. From my position I could look +over the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caught +the glint of a light. + +At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it +lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any +warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white, +almost womanly hand, which felt about in the centre of the little area +of light. For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing fingers, +protruded out of the floor. Then it was withdrawn as suddenly as it +appeared, and all was dark again save the single lurid spark which +marked a chink between the stones. + +Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, tearing +sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its side and +left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light of a +lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, boyish face, which +looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of the +aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one knee +rested upon the edge. In another instant he stood at the side of the +hole and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small like +himself, with a pale face and a shock of very red hair. + +“It’s all clear,” he whispered. “Have you the chisel and the bags? +Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I’ll swing for it!” + +Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar. +The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of rending cloth +as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrel of a +revolver, but Holmes’ hunting crop came down on the man’s wrist, and +the pistol clinked upon the stone floor. + +“It’s no use, John Clay,” said Holmes blandly. “You have no chance at +all.” + +“So I see,” the other answered with the utmost coolness. “I fancy that +my pal is all right, though I see you have got his coat-tails.” + +“There are three men waiting for him at the door,” said Holmes. + +“Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing very completely. I must +compliment you.” + +“And I you,” Holmes answered. “Your red-headed idea was very new and +effective.” + +“You’ll see your pal again presently,” said Jones. “He’s quicker at +climbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the derbies.” + +“I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands,” remarked our +prisoner as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. “You may not be +aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness, also, +when you address me always to say ‘sir’ and ‘please.’” + +“All right,” said Jones with a stare and a snigger. “Well, would you +please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry your +Highness to the police-station?” + +“That is better,” said John Clay serenely. He made a sweeping bow to +the three of us and walked quietly off in the custody of the detective. + +“Really, Mr. Holmes,” said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them from +the cellar, “I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you. +There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated in the most +complete manner one of the most determined attempts at bank robbery +that have ever come within my experience.” + +“I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr. John +Clay,” said Holmes. “I have been at some small expense over this +matter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond that I am +amply repaid by having had an experience which is in many ways unique, +and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of the Red-headed League.” + +“You see, Watson,” he explained in the early hours of the morning as we +sat over a glass of whisky and soda in Baker Street, “it was perfectly +obvious from the first that the only possible object of this rather +fantastic business of the advertisement of the League, and the copying +of the _Encyclopædia_, must be to get this not over-bright pawnbroker +out of the way for a number of hours every day. It was a curious way of +managing it, but, really, it would be difficult to suggest a better. +The method was no doubt suggested to Clay’s ingenious mind by the +colour of his accomplice’s hair. The £ 4 a week was a lure which must +draw him, and what was it to them, who were playing for thousands? They +put in the advertisement, one rogue has the temporary office, the other +rogue incites the man to apply for it, and together they manage to +secure his absence every morning in the week. From the time that I +heard of the assistant having come for half wages, it was obvious to me +that he had some strong motive for securing the situation.” + +“But how could you guess what the motive was?” + +“Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a mere +vulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question. The man’s +business was a small one, and there was nothing in his house which +could account for such elaborate preparations, and such an expenditure +as they were at. It must, then, be something out of the house. What +could it be? I thought of the assistant’s fondness for photography, and +his trick of vanishing into the cellar. The cellar! There was the end +of this tangled clue. Then I made inquiries as to this mysterious +assistant and found that I had to deal with one of the coolest and most +daring criminals in London. He was doing something in the +cellar—something which took many hours a day for months on end. What +could it be, once more? I could think of nothing save that he was +running a tunnel to some other building. + +“So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I +surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was +ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. It +was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the assistant +answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had never set eyes +upon each other before. I hardly looked at his face. His knees were +what I wished to see. You must yourself have remarked how worn, +wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of those hours of +burrowing. The only remaining point was what they were burrowing for. I +walked round the corner, saw the City and Suburban Bank abutted on our +friend’s premises, and felt that I had solved my problem. When you +drove home after the concert I called upon Scotland Yard and upon the +chairman of the bank directors, with the result that you have seen.” + +“And how could you tell that they would make their attempt to-night?” I +asked. + +“Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that they +cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson’s presence—in other words, that +they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential that they should +use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the bullion might be +removed. Saturday would suit them better than any other day, as it +would give them two days for their escape. For all these reasons I +expected them to come to-night.” + +“You reasoned it out beautifully,” I exclaimed in unfeigned admiration. +“It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings true.” + +“It saved me from ennui,” he answered, yawning. “Alas! I already feel +it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort to escape +from the commonplaces of existence. These little problems help me to do +so.” + +“And you are a benefactor of the race,” said I. + +He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, perhaps, after all, it is of some +little use,” he remarked. “‘_L’homme c’est rien—l’œuvre c’est tout_,’ +as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand.” + + + + +III. A CASE OF IDENTITY + + +“My dear fellow,” said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of the +fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, “life is infinitely stranger than +anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to +conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If +we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great +city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which +are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the +cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through +generations, and leading to the most _outré_ results, it would make all +fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale +and unprofitable.” + +“And yet I am not convinced of it,” I answered. “The cases which come +to light in the papers are, as a rule, bald enough, and vulgar enough. +We have in our police reports realism pushed to its extreme limits, and +yet the result is, it must be confessed, neither fascinating nor +artistic.” + +“A certain selection and discretion must be used in producing a +realistic effect,” remarked Holmes. “This is wanting in the police +report, where more stress is laid, perhaps, upon the platitudes of the +magistrate than upon the details, which to an observer contain the +vital essence of the whole matter. Depend upon it, there is nothing so +unnatural as the commonplace.” + +I smiled and shook my head. “I can quite understand your thinking so,” +I said. “Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser and helper +to everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout three continents, +you are brought in contact with all that is strange and bizarre. But +here”—I picked up the morning paper from the ground—“let us put it to a +practical test. Here is the first heading upon which I come. ‘A +husband’s cruelty to his wife.’ There is half a column of print, but I +know without reading it that it is all perfectly familiar to me. There +is, of course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the +bruise, the sympathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of writers +could invent nothing more crude.” + +“Indeed, your example is an unfortunate one for your argument,” said +Holmes, taking the paper and glancing his eye down it. “This is the +Dundas separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged in clearing +up some small points in connection with it. The husband was a +teetotaler, there was no other woman, and the conduct complained of was +that he had drifted into the habit of winding up every meal by taking +out his false teeth and hurling them at his wife, which, you will +allow, is not an action likely to occur to the imagination of the +average story-teller. Take a pinch of snuff, Doctor, and acknowledge +that I have scored over you in your example.” + +He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in the +centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his homely +ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon it. + +“Ah,” said he, “I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. It is +a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my assistance +in the case of the Irene Adler papers.” + +“And the ring?” I asked, glancing at a remarkable brilliant which +sparkled upon his finger. + +“It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in which +I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it even to +you, who have been good enough to chronicle one or two of my little +problems.” + +“And have you any on hand just now?” I asked with interest. + +“Some ten or twelve, but none which present any feature of interest. +They are important, you understand, without being interesting. Indeed, +I have found that it is usually in unimportant matters that there is a +field for the observation, and for the quick analysis of cause and +effect which gives the charm to an investigation. The larger crimes are +apt to be the simpler, for the bigger the crime the more obvious, as a +rule, is the motive. In these cases, save for one rather intricate +matter which has been referred to me from Marseilles, there is nothing +which presents any features of interest. It is possible, however, that +I may have something better before very many minutes are over, for this +is one of my clients, or I am much mistaken.” + +He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted blinds +gazing down into the dull neutral-tinted London street. Looking over +his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite there stood a large +woman with a heavy fur boa round her neck, and a large curling red +feather in a broad-brimmed hat which was tilted in a coquettish Duchess +of Devonshire fashion over her ear. From under this great panoply she +peeped up in a nervous, hesitating fashion at our windows, while her +body oscillated backward and forward, and her fingers fidgeted with her +glove buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves +the bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the sharp clang of +the bell. + +“I have seen those symptoms before,” said Holmes, throwing his +cigarette into the fire. “Oscillation upon the pavement always means an +_affaire de cœur_. She would like advice, but is not sure that the +matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet even here we may +discriminate. When a woman has been seriously wronged by a man she no +longer oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell wire. Here we +may take it that there is a love matter, but that the maiden is not so +much angry as perplexed, or grieved. But here she comes in person to +resolve our doubts.” + +As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons entered +to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself loomed behind +his small black figure like a full-sailed merchant-man behind a tiny +pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed her with the easy courtesy for +which he was remarkable, and, having closed the door and bowed her into +an armchair, he looked her over in the minute and yet abstracted +fashion which was peculiar to him. + +“Do you not find,” he said, “that with your short sight it is a little +trying to do so much typewriting?” + +“I did at first,” she answered, “but now I know where the letters are +without looking.” Then, suddenly realising the full purport of his +words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear and +astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. “You’ve heard about +me, Mr. Holmes,” she cried, “else how could you know all that?” + +“Never mind,” said Holmes, laughing; “it is my business to know things. +Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook. If not, why +should you come to consult me?” + +“I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, whose +husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had given him up +for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as much for me. I’m not +rich, but still I have a hundred a year in my own right, besides the +little that I make by the machine, and I would give it all to know what +has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel.” + +“Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry?” asked Sherlock +Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to the ceiling. + +Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss Mary +Sutherland. “Yes, I did bang out of the house,” she said, “for it made +me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. Windibank—that is, my +father—took it all. He would not go to the police, and he would not go +to you, and so at last, as he would do nothing and kept on saying that +there was no harm done, it made me mad, and I just on with my things +and came right away to you.” + +“Your father,” said Holmes, “your stepfather, surely, since the name is +different.” + +“Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, too, +for he is only five years and two months older than myself.” + +“And your mother is alive?” + +“Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn’t best pleased, Mr. Holmes, +when she married again so soon after father’s death, and a man who was +nearly fifteen years younger than herself. Father was a plumber in the +Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy business behind him, which +mother carried on with Mr. Hardy, the foreman; but when Mr. Windibank +came he made her sell the business, for he was very superior, being a +traveller in wines. They got £ 4700 for the goodwill and interest, +which wasn’t near as much as father could have got if he had been +alive.” + +I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient under this rambling and +inconsequential narrative, but, on the contrary, he had listened with +the greatest concentration of attention. + +“Your own little income,” he asked, “does it come out of the business?” + +“Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me by my uncle Ned in +Auckland. It is in New Zealand stock, paying 4½ per cent. Two thousand +five hundred pounds was the amount, but I can only touch the interest.” + +“You interest me extremely,” said Holmes. “And since you draw so large +a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the bargain, you no +doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in every way. I believe that +a single lady can get on very nicely upon an income of about £ 60.” + +“I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes, but you understand +that as long as I live at home I don’t wish to be a burden to them, and +so they have the use of the money just while I am staying with them. Of +course, that is only just for the time. Mr. Windibank draws my interest +every quarter and pays it over to mother, and I find that I can do +pretty well with what I earn at typewriting. It brings me twopence a +sheet, and I can often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in a day.” + +“You have made your position very clear to me,” said Holmes. “This is +my friend, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before +myself. Kindly tell us now all about your connection with Mr. Hosmer +Angel.” + +A flush stole over Miss Sutherland’s face, and she picked nervously at +the fringe of her jacket. “I met him first at the gasfitters’ ball,” +she said. “They used to send father tickets when he was alive, and then +afterwards they remembered us, and sent them to mother. Mr. Windibank +did not wish us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere. He would +get quite mad if I wanted so much as to join a Sunday-school treat. But +this time I was set on going, and I would go; for what right had he to +prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to know, when all +father’s friends were to be there. And he said that I had nothing fit +to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never so much as taken +out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else would do, he went off to +France upon the business of the firm, but we went, mother and I, with +Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it was there I met Mr. +Hosmer Angel.” + +“I suppose,” said Holmes, “that when Mr. Windibank came back from +France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball.” + +“Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and +shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying anything to a +woman, for she would have her way.” + +“I see. Then at the gasfitters’ ball you met, as I understand, a +gentleman called Mr. Hosmer Angel.” + +“Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called next day to ask if we +had got home all safe, and after that we met him—that is to say, Mr. +Holmes, I met him twice for walks, but after that father came back +again, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to the house any more.” + +“No?” + +“Well, you know father didn’t like anything of the sort. He wouldn’t +have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to say that a woman +should be happy in her own family circle. But then, as I used to say to +mother, a woman wants her own circle to begin with, and I had not got +mine yet.” + +“But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Did he make no attempt to see you?” + +“Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer wrote +and said that it would be safer and better not to see each other until +he had gone. We could write in the meantime, and he used to write every +day. I took the letters in in the morning, so there was no need for +father to know.” + +“Were you engaged to the gentleman at this time?” + +“Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after the first walk that we +took. Hosmer—Mr. Angel—was a cashier in an office in Leadenhall +Street—and—” + +“What office?” + +“That’s the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don’t know.” + +“Where did he live, then?” + +“He slept on the premises.” + +“And you don’t know his address?” + +“No—except that it was Leadenhall Street.” + +“Where did you address your letters, then?” + +“To the Leadenhall Street Post Office, to be left till called for. He +said that if they were sent to the office he would be chaffed by all +the other clerks about having letters from a lady, so I offered to +typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn’t have that, for he said +that when I wrote them they seemed to come from me, but when they were +typewritten he always felt that the machine had come between us. That +will just show you how fond he was of me, Mr. Holmes, and the little +things that he would think of.” + +“It was most suggestive,” said Holmes. “It has long been an axiom of +mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. Can you +remember any other little things about Mr. Hosmer Angel?” + +“He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would rather walk with me in the +evening than in the daylight, for he said that he hated to be +conspicuous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even his voice was +gentle. He’d had the quinsy and swollen glands when he was young, he +told me, and it had left him with a weak throat, and a hesitating, +whispering fashion of speech. He was always well dressed, very neat and +plain, but his eyes were weak, just as mine are, and he wore tinted +glasses against the glare.” + +“Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank, your stepfather, returned +to France?” + +“Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we should +marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest and made me +swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever happened I would +always be true to him. Mother said he was quite right to make me swear, +and that it was a sign of his passion. Mother was all in his favour +from the first and was even fonder of him than I was. Then, when they +talked of marrying within the week, I began to ask about father; but +they both said never to mind about father, but just to tell him +afterwards, and mother said she would make it all right with him. I +didn’t quite like that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that I should ask +his leave, as he was only a few years older than me; but I didn’t want +to do anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at Bordeaux, where the +company has its French offices, but the letter came back to me on the +very morning of the wedding.” + +“It missed him, then?” + +“Yes, sir; for he had started to England just before it arrived.” + +“Ha! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged, then, for the +Friday. Was it to be in church?” + +“Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St. Saviour’s, near King’s +Cross, and we were to have breakfast afterwards at the St. Pancras +Hotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were two of us he +put us both into it and stepped himself into a four-wheeler, which +happened to be the only other cab in the street. We got to the church +first, and when the four-wheeler drove up we waited for him to step +out, but he never did, and when the cabman got down from the box and +looked there was no one there! The cabman said that he could not +imagine what had become of him, for he had seen him get in with his own +eyes. That was last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or heard +anything since then to throw any light upon what became of him.” + +“It seems to me that you have been very shamefully treated,” said +Holmes. + +“Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all the +morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to be true; +and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to separate us, I +was always to remember that I was pledged to him, and that he would +claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed strange talk for a +wedding-morning, but what has happened since gives a meaning to it.” + +“Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is, then, that some +unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?” + +“Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger, or else he would not +have talked so. And then I think that what he foresaw happened.” + +“But you have no notion as to what it could have been?” + +“None.” + +“One more question. How did your mother take the matter?” + +“She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter +again.” + +“And your father? Did you tell him?” + +“Yes; and he seemed to think, with me, that something had happened, and +that I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, what interest could +anyone have in bringing me to the doors of the church, and then leaving +me? Now, if he had borrowed my money, or if he had married me and got +my money settled on him, there might be some reason, but Hosmer was +very independent about money and never would look at a shilling of +mine. And yet, what could have happened? And why could he not write? +Oh, it drives me half-mad to think of it, and I can’t sleep a wink at +night.” She pulled a little handkerchief out of her muff and began to +sob heavily into it. + +“I shall glance into the case for you,” said Holmes, rising, “and I +have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the weight +of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind dwell upon it +further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel vanish from your +memory, as he has done from your life.” + +“Then you don’t think I’ll see him again?” + +“I fear not.” + +“Then what has happened to him?” + +“You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an accurate +description of him and any letters of his which you can spare.” + +“I advertised for him in last Saturday’s _Chronicle_,” said she. “Here +is the slip and here are four letters from him.” + +“Thank you. And your address?” + +“No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell.” + +“Mr. Angel’s address you never had, I understand. Where is your +father’s place of business?” + +“He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great claret importers of +Fenchurch Street.” + +“Thank you. You have made your statement very clearly. You will leave +the papers here, and remember the advice which I have given you. Let +the whole incident be a sealed book, and do not allow it to affect your +life.” + +“You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall be true +to Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back.” + +For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face, there was something +noble in the simple faith of our visitor which compelled our respect. +She laid her little bundle of papers upon the table and went her way, +with a promise to come again whenever she might be summoned. + +Sherlock Holmes sat silent for a few minutes with his fingertips still +pressed together, his legs stretched out in front of him, and his gaze +directed upward to the ceiling. Then he took down from the rack the old +and oily clay pipe, which was to him as a counsellor, and, having lit +it, he leaned back in his chair, with the thick blue cloud-wreaths +spinning up from him, and a look of infinite languor in his face. + +“Quite an interesting study, that maiden,” he observed. “I found her +more interesting than her little problem, which, by the way, is rather +a trite one. You will find parallel cases, if you consult my index, in +Andover in ’77, and there was something of the sort at The Hague last +year. Old as is the idea, however, there were one or two details which +were new to me. But the maiden herself was most instructive.” + +“You appeared to read a good deal upon her which was quite invisible to +me,” I remarked. + +“Not invisible but unnoticed, Watson. You did not know where to look, +and so you missed all that was important. I can never bring you to +realise the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness of thumb-nails, +or the great issues that may hang from a boot-lace. Now, what did you +gather from that woman’s appearance? Describe it.” + +“Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat, with a +feather of a brickish red. Her jacket was black, with black beads sewn +upon it, and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Her dress was +brown, rather darker than coffee colour, with a little purple plush at +the neck and sleeves. Her gloves were greyish and were worn through at +the right forefinger. Her boots I didn’t observe. She had small round, +hanging gold earrings, and a general air of being fairly well-to-do in +a vulgar, comfortable, easy-going way.” + +Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together and chuckled. + +“’Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. You have +really done very well indeed. It is true that you have missed +everything of importance, but you have hit upon the method, and you +have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to general impressions, my +boy, but concentrate yourself upon details. My first glance is always +at a woman’s sleeve. In a man it is perhaps better first to take the +knee of the trouser. As you observe, this woman had plush upon her +sleeves, which is a most useful material for showing traces. The double +line a little above the wrist, where the typewritist presses against +the table, was beautifully defined. The sewing-machine, of the hand +type, leaves a similar mark, but only on the left arm, and on the side +of it farthest from the thumb, instead of being right across the +broadest part, as this was. I then glanced at her face, and, observing +the dint of a pince-nez at either side of her nose, I ventured a remark +upon short sight and typewriting, which seemed to surprise her.” + +“It surprised me.” + +“But, surely, it was obvious. I was then much surprised and interested +on glancing down to observe that, though the boots which she was +wearing were not unlike each other, they were really odd ones; the one +having a slightly decorated toe-cap, and the other a plain one. One was +buttoned only in the two lower buttons out of five, and the other at +the first, third, and fifth. Now, when you see that a young lady, +otherwise neatly dressed, has come away from home with odd boots, +half-buttoned, it is no great deduction to say that she came away in a +hurry.” + +“And what else?” I asked, keenly interested, as I always was, by my +friend’s incisive reasoning. + +“I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leaving home +but after being fully dressed. You observed that her right glove was +torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently see that both glove +and finger were stained with violet ink. She had written in a hurry and +dipped her pen too deep. It must have been this morning, or the mark +would not remain clear upon the finger. All this is amusing, though +rather elementary, but I must go back to business, Watson. Would you +mind reading me the advertised description of Mr. Hosmer Angel?” + +I held the little printed slip to the light. “Missing,” it said, “on +the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman named Hosmer Angel. About +five ft. seven in. in height; strongly built, sallow complexion, black +hair, a little bald in the centre, bushy, black side-whiskers and +moustache; tinted glasses, slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed, +when last seen, in black frock-coat faced with silk, black waistcoat, +gold Albert chain, and grey Harris tweed trousers, with brown gaiters +over elastic-sided boots. Known to have been employed in an office in +Leadenhall Street. Anybody bringing,” &c, &c. + +“That will do,” said Holmes. “As to the letters,” he continued, +glancing over them, “they are very commonplace. Absolutely no clue in +them to Mr. Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. There is one +remarkable point, however, which will no doubt strike you.” + +“They are typewritten,” I remarked. + +“Not only that, but the signature is typewritten. Look at the neat +little ‘Hosmer Angel’ at the bottom. There is a date, you see, but no +superscription except Leadenhall Street, which is rather vague. The +point about the signature is very suggestive—in fact, we may call it +conclusive.” + +“Of what?” + +“My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how strongly it bears +upon the case?” + +“I cannot say that I do unless it were that he wished to be able to +deny his signature if an action for breach of promise were instituted.” + +“No, that was not the point. However, I shall write two letters, which +should settle the matter. One is to a firm in the City, the other is to +the young lady’s stepfather, Mr. Windibank, asking him whether he could +meet us here at six o’clock to-morrow evening. It is just as well that +we should do business with the male relatives. And now, Doctor, we can +do nothing until the answers to those letters come, so we may put our +little problem upon the shelf for the interim.” + +I had had so many reasons to believe in my friend’s subtle powers of +reasoning and extraordinary energy in action that I felt that he must +have some solid grounds for the assured and easy demeanour with which +he treated the singular mystery which he had been called upon to +fathom. Once only had I known him to fail, in the case of the King of +Bohemia and of the Irene Adler photograph; but when I looked back to +the weird business of the Sign of Four, and the extraordinary +circumstances connected with the Study in Scarlet, I felt that it would +be a strange tangle indeed which he could not unravel. + +I left him then, still puffing at his black clay pipe, with the +conviction that when I came again on the next evening I would find that +he held in his hands all the clues which would lead up to the identity +of the disappearing bridegroom of Miss Mary Sutherland. + +A professional case of great gravity was engaging my own attention at +the time, and the whole of next day I was busy at the bedside of the +sufferer. It was not until close upon six o’clock that I found myself +free and was able to spring into a hansom and drive to Baker Street, +half afraid that I might be too late to assist at the _dénouement_ of +the little mystery. I found Sherlock Holmes alone, however, half +asleep, with his long, thin form curled up in the recesses of his +armchair. A formidable array of bottles and test-tubes, with the +pungent cleanly smell of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had spent +his day in the chemical work which was so dear to him. + +“Well, have you solved it?” I asked as I entered. + +“Yes. It was the bisulphate of baryta.” + +“No, no, the mystery!” I cried. + +“Oh, that! I thought of the salt that I have been working upon. There +was never any mystery in the matter, though, as I said yesterday, some +of the details are of interest. The only drawback is that there is no +law, I fear, that can touch the scoundrel.” + +“Who was he, then, and what was his object in deserting Miss +Sutherland?” + +The question was hardly out of my mouth, and Holmes had not yet opened +his lips to reply, when we heard a heavy footfall in the passage and a +tap at the door. + +“This is the girl’s stepfather, Mr. James Windibank,” said Holmes. “He +has written to me to say that he would be here at six. Come in!” + +The man who entered was a sturdy, middle-sized fellow, some thirty +years of age, clean-shaven, and sallow-skinned, with a bland, +insinuating manner, and a pair of wonderfully sharp and penetrating +grey eyes. He shot a questioning glance at each of us, placed his shiny +top-hat upon the sideboard, and with a slight bow sidled down into the +nearest chair. + +“Good-evening, Mr. James Windibank,” said Holmes. “I think that this +typewritten letter is from you, in which you made an appointment with +me for six o’clock?” + +“Yes, sir. I am afraid that I am a little late, but I am not quite my +own master, you know. I am sorry that Miss Sutherland has troubled you +about this little matter, for I think it is far better not to wash +linen of the sort in public. It was quite against my wishes that she +came, but she is a very excitable, impulsive girl, as you may have +noticed, and she is not easily controlled when she has made up her mind +on a point. Of course, I did not mind you so much, as you are not +connected with the official police, but it is not pleasant to have a +family misfortune like this noised abroad. Besides, it is a useless +expense, for how could you possibly find this Hosmer Angel?” + +“On the contrary,” said Holmes quietly; “I have every reason to believe +that I will succeed in discovering Mr. Hosmer Angel.” + +Mr. Windibank gave a violent start and dropped his gloves. “I am +delighted to hear it,” he said. + +“It is a curious thing,” remarked Holmes, “that a typewriter has really +quite as much individuality as a man’s handwriting. Unless they are +quite new, no two of them write exactly alike. Some letters get more +worn than others, and some wear only on one side. Now, you remark in +this note of yours, Mr. Windibank, that in every case there is some +little slurring over of the ‘e,’ and a slight defect in the tail of the +‘r.’ There are fourteen other characteristics, but those are the more +obvious.” + +“We do all our correspondence with this machine at the office, and no +doubt it is a little worn,” our visitor answered, glancing keenly at +Holmes with his bright little eyes. + +“And now I will show you what is really a very interesting study, Mr. +Windibank,” Holmes continued. “I think of writing another little +monograph some of these days on the typewriter and its relation to +crime. It is a subject to which I have devoted some little attention. I +have here four letters which purport to come from the missing man. They +are all typewritten. In each case, not only are the ‘e’s’ slurred and +the ‘r’s’ tailless, but you will observe, if you care to use my +magnifying lens, that the fourteen other characteristics to which I +have alluded are there as well.” + +Mr. Windibank sprang out of his chair and picked up his hat. “I cannot +waste time over this sort of fantastic talk, Mr. Holmes,” he said. “If +you can catch the man, catch him, and let me know when you have done +it.” + +“Certainly,” said Holmes, stepping over and turning the key in the +door. “I let you know, then, that I have caught him!” + +“What! where?” shouted Mr. Windibank, turning white to his lips and +glancing about him like a rat in a trap. + +“Oh, it won’t do—really it won’t,” said Holmes suavely. “There is no +possible getting out of it, Mr. Windibank. It is quite too transparent, +and it was a very bad compliment when you said that it was impossible +for me to solve so simple a question. That’s right! Sit down and let us +talk it over.” + +Our visitor collapsed into a chair, with a ghastly face and a glitter +of moisture on his brow. “It—it’s not actionable,” he stammered. + +“I am very much afraid that it is not. But between ourselves, +Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a petty +way as ever came before me. Now, let me just run over the course of +events, and you will contradict me if I go wrong.” + +The man sat huddled up in his chair, with his head sunk upon his +breast, like one who is utterly crushed. Holmes stuck his feet up on +the corner of the mantelpiece and, leaning back with his hands in his +pockets, began talking, rather to himself, as it seemed, than to us. + +“The man married a woman very much older than himself for her money,” +said he, “and he enjoyed the use of the money of the daughter as long +as she lived with them. It was a considerable sum, for people in their +position, and the loss of it would have made a serious difference. It +was worth an effort to preserve it. The daughter was of a good, amiable +disposition, but affectionate and warm-hearted in her ways, so that it +was evident that with her fair personal advantages, and her little +income, she would not be allowed to remain single long. Now her +marriage would mean, of course, the loss of a hundred a year, so what +does her stepfather do to prevent it? He takes the obvious course of +keeping her at home and forbidding her to seek the company of people of +her own age. But soon he found that that would not answer forever. She +became restive, insisted upon her rights, and finally announced her +positive intention of going to a certain ball. What does her clever +stepfather do then? He conceives an idea more creditable to his head +than to his heart. With the connivance and assistance of his wife he +disguised himself, covered those keen eyes with tinted glasses, masked +the face with a moustache and a pair of bushy whiskers, sunk that clear +voice into an insinuating whisper, and doubly secure on account of the +girl’s short sight, he appears as Mr. Hosmer Angel, and keeps off other +lovers by making love himself.” + +“It was only a joke at first,” groaned our visitor. “We never thought +that she would have been so carried away.” + +“Very likely not. However that may be, the young lady was very +decidedly carried away, and, having quite made up her mind that her +stepfather was in France, the suspicion of treachery never for an +instant entered her mind. She was flattered by the gentleman’s +attentions, and the effect was increased by the loudly expressed +admiration of her mother. Then Mr. Angel began to call, for it was +obvious that the matter should be pushed as far as it would go if a +real effect were to be produced. There were meetings, and an +engagement, which would finally secure the girl’s affections from +turning towards anyone else. But the deception could not be kept up +forever. These pretended journeys to France were rather cumbrous. The +thing to do was clearly to bring the business to an end in such a +dramatic manner that it would leave a permanent impression upon the +young lady’s mind and prevent her from looking upon any other suitor +for some time to come. Hence those vows of fidelity exacted upon a +Testament, and hence also the allusions to a possibility of something +happening on the very morning of the wedding. James Windibank wished +Miss Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer Angel, and so uncertain as to +his fate, that for ten years to come, at any rate, she would not listen +to another man. As far as the church door he brought her, and then, as +he could go no farther, he conveniently vanished away by the old trick +of stepping in at one door of a four-wheeler and out at the other. I +think that was the chain of events, Mr. Windibank!” + +Our visitor had recovered something of his assurance while Holmes had +been talking, and he rose from his chair now with a cold sneer upon his +pale face. + +“It may be so, or it may not, Mr. Holmes,” said he, “but if you are so +very sharp you ought to be sharp enough to know that it is you who are +breaking the law now, and not me. I have done nothing actionable from +the first, but as long as you keep that door locked you lay yourself +open to an action for assault and illegal constraint.” + +“The law cannot, as you say, touch you,” said Holmes, unlocking and +throwing open the door, “yet there never was a man who deserved +punishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a friend, he ought +to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove!” he continued, flushing +up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man’s face, “it is not +part of my duties to my client, but here’s a hunting crop handy, and I +think I shall just treat myself to—” He took two swift steps to the +whip, but before he could grasp it there was a wild clatter of steps +upon the stairs, the heavy hall door banged, and from the window we +could see Mr. James Windibank running at the top of his speed down the +road. + +“There’s a cold-blooded scoundrel!” said Holmes, laughing, as he threw +himself down into his chair once more. “That fellow will rise from +crime to crime until he does something very bad, and ends on a gallows. +The case has, in some respects, been not entirely devoid of interest.” + +“I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your reasoning,” I +remarked. + +“Well, of course it was obvious from the first that this Mr. Hosmer +Angel must have some strong object for his curious conduct, and it was +equally clear that the only man who really profited by the incident, as +far as we could see, was the stepfather. Then the fact that the two men +were never together, but that the one always appeared when the other +was away, was suggestive. So were the tinted spectacles and the curious +voice, which both hinted at a disguise, as did the bushy whiskers. My +suspicions were all confirmed by his peculiar action in typewriting his +signature, which, of course, inferred that his handwriting was so +familiar to her that she would recognise even the smallest sample of +it. You see all these isolated facts, together with many minor ones, +all pointed in the same direction.” + +“And how did you verify them?” + +“Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get corroboration. I knew +the firm for which this man worked. Having taken the printed +description. I eliminated everything from it which could be the result +of a disguise—the whiskers, the glasses, the voice, and I sent it to +the firm, with a request that they would inform me whether it answered +to the description of any of their travellers. I had already noticed +the peculiarities of the typewriter, and I wrote to the man himself at +his business address asking him if he would come here. As I expected, +his reply was typewritten and revealed the same trivial but +characteristic defects. The same post brought me a letter from +Westhouse & Marbank, of Fenchurch Street, to say that the description +tallied in every respect with that of their employé, James Windibank. +_Voilà tout_!” + +“And Miss Sutherland?” + +“If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the old +Persian saying, ‘There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub, and +danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.’ There is as +much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledge of the world.” + + + + +IV. THE BOSCOMBE VALLEY MYSTERY + + +We were seated at breakfast one morning, my wife and I, when the maid +brought in a telegram. It was from Sherlock Holmes and ran in this way: + +“Have you a couple of days to spare? Have just been wired for from the +west of England in connection with Boscombe Valley tragedy. Shall be +glad if you will come with me. Air and scenery perfect. Leave +Paddington by the 11:15.” + +“What do you say, dear?” said my wife, looking across at me. “Will you +go?” + +“I really don’t know what to say. I have a fairly long list at +present.” + +“Oh, Anstruther would do your work for you. You have been looking a +little pale lately. I think that the change would do you good, and you +are always so interested in Mr. Sherlock Holmes’ cases.” + +“I should be ungrateful if I were not, seeing what I gained through one +of them,” I answered. “But if I am to go, I must pack at once, for I +have only half an hour.” + +My experience of camp life in Afghanistan had at least had the effect +of making me a prompt and ready traveller. My wants were few and +simple, so that in less than the time stated I was in a cab with my +valise, rattling away to Paddington Station. Sherlock Holmes was pacing +up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt figure made even gaunter and +taller by his long grey travelling-cloak and close-fitting cloth cap. + +“It is really very good of you to come, Watson,” said he. “It makes a +considerable difference to me, having someone with me on whom I can +thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless or else biassed. +If you will keep the two corner seats I shall get the tickets.” + +We had the carriage to ourselves save for an immense litter of papers +which Holmes had brought with him. Among these he rummaged and read, +with intervals of note-taking and of meditation, until we were past +Reading. Then he suddenly rolled them all into a gigantic ball and +tossed them up onto the rack. + +“Have you heard anything of the case?” he asked. + +“Not a word. I have not seen a paper for some days.” + +“The London press has not had very full accounts. I have just been +looking through all the recent papers in order to master the +particulars. It seems, from what I gather, to be one of those simple +cases which are so extremely difficult.” + +“That sounds a little paradoxical.” + +“But it is profoundly true. Singularity is almost invariably a clue. +The more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the more difficult it +is to bring it home. In this case, however, they have established a +very serious case against the son of the murdered man.” + +“It is a murder, then?” + +“Well, it is conjectured to be so. I shall take nothing for granted +until I have the opportunity of looking personally into it. I will +explain the state of things to you, as far as I have been able to +understand it, in a very few words. + +“Boscombe Valley is a country district not very far from Ross, in +Herefordshire. The largest landed proprietor in that part is a Mr. John +Turner, who made his money in Australia and returned some years ago to +the old country. One of the farms which he held, that of Hatherley, was +let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, who was also an ex-Australian. The men had +known each other in the colonies, so that it was not unnatural that +when they came to settle down they should do so as near each other as +possible. Turner was apparently the richer man, so McCarthy became his +tenant but still remained, it seems, upon terms of perfect equality, as +they were frequently together. McCarthy had one son, a lad of eighteen, +and Turner had an only daughter of the same age, but neither of them +had wives living. They appear to have avoided the society of the +neighbouring English families and to have led retired lives, though +both the McCarthys were fond of sport and were frequently seen at the +race-meetings of the neighbourhood. McCarthy kept two servants—a man +and a girl. Turner had a considerable household, some half-dozen at the +least. That is as much as I have been able to gather about the +families. Now for the facts. + +“On June 3rd, that is, on Monday last, McCarthy left his house at +Hatherley about three in the afternoon and walked down to the Boscombe +Pool, which is a small lake formed by the spreading out of the stream +which runs down the Boscombe Valley. He had been out with his +serving-man in the morning at Ross, and he had told the man that he +must hurry, as he had an appointment of importance to keep at three. +From that appointment he never came back alive. + +“From Hatherley Farmhouse to the Boscombe Pool is a quarter of a mile, +and two people saw him as he passed over this ground. One was an old +woman, whose name is not mentioned, and the other was William Crowder, +a game-keeper in the employ of Mr. Turner. Both these witnesses depose +that Mr. McCarthy was walking alone. The game-keeper adds that within a +few minutes of his seeing Mr. McCarthy pass he had seen his son, Mr. +James McCarthy, going the same way with a gun under his arm. To the +best of his belief, the father was actually in sight at the time, and +the son was following him. He thought no more of the matter until he +heard in the evening of the tragedy that had occurred. + +“The two McCarthys were seen after the time when William Crowder, the +game-keeper, lost sight of them. The Boscombe Pool is thickly wooded +round, with just a fringe of grass and of reeds round the edge. A girl +of fourteen, Patience Moran, who is the daughter of the lodge-keeper of +the Boscombe Valley estate, was in one of the woods picking flowers. +She states that while she was there she saw, at the border of the wood +and close by the lake, Mr. McCarthy and his son, and that they appeared +to be having a violent quarrel. She heard Mr. McCarthy the elder using +very strong language to his son, and she saw the latter raise up his +hand as if to strike his father. She was so frightened by their +violence that she ran away and told her mother when she reached home +that she had left the two McCarthys quarrelling near Boscombe Pool, and +that she was afraid that they were going to fight. She had hardly said +the words when young Mr. McCarthy came running up to the lodge to say +that he had found his father dead in the wood, and to ask for the help +of the lodge-keeper. He was much excited, without either his gun or his +hat, and his right hand and sleeve were observed to be stained with +fresh blood. On following him they found the dead body stretched out +upon the grass beside the pool. The head had been beaten in by repeated +blows of some heavy and blunt weapon. The injuries were such as might +very well have been inflicted by the butt-end of his son’s gun, which +was found lying on the grass within a few paces of the body. Under +these circumstances the young man was instantly arrested, and a verdict +of ‘wilful murder’ having been returned at the inquest on Tuesday, he +was on Wednesday brought before the magistrates at Ross, who have +referred the case to the next Assizes. Those are the main facts of the +case as they came out before the coroner and the police-court.” + +“I could hardly imagine a more damning case,” I remarked. “If ever +circumstantial evidence pointed to a criminal it does so here.” + +“Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing,” answered Holmes +thoughtfully. “It may seem to point very straight to one thing, but if +you shift your own point of view a little, you may find it pointing in +an equally uncompromising manner to something entirely different. It +must be confessed, however, that the case looks exceedingly grave +against the young man, and it is very possible that he is indeed the +culprit. There are several people in the neighbourhood, however, and +among them Miss Turner, the daughter of the neighbouring landowner, who +believe in his innocence, and who have retained Lestrade, whom you may +recollect in connection with the Study in Scarlet, to work out the case +in his interest. Lestrade, being rather puzzled, has referred the case +to me, and hence it is that two middle-aged gentlemen are flying +westward at fifty miles an hour instead of quietly digesting their +breakfasts at home.” + +“I am afraid,” said I, “that the facts are so obvious that you will +find little credit to be gained out of this case.” + +“There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact,” he answered, +laughing. “Besides, we may chance to hit upon some other obvious facts +which may have been by no means obvious to Mr. Lestrade. You know me +too well to think that I am boasting when I say that I shall either +confirm or destroy his theory by means which he is quite incapable of +employing, or even of understanding. To take the first example to hand, +I very clearly perceive that in your bedroom the window is upon the +right-hand side, and yet I question whether Mr. Lestrade would have +noted even so self-evident a thing as that.” + +“How on earth—” + +“My dear fellow, I know you well. I know the military neatness which +characterises you. You shave every morning, and in this season you +shave by the sunlight; but since your shaving is less and less complete +as we get farther back on the left side, until it becomes positively +slovenly as we get round the angle of the jaw, it is surely very clear +that that side is less illuminated than the other. I could not imagine +a man of your habits looking at himself in an equal light and being +satisfied with such a result. I only quote this as a trivial example of +observation and inference. Therein lies my _métier_, and it is just +possible that it may be of some service in the investigation which lies +before us. There are one or two minor points which were brought out in +the inquest, and which are worth considering.” + +“What are they?” + +“It appears that his arrest did not take place at once, but after the +return to Hatherley Farm. On the inspector of constabulary informing +him that he was a prisoner, he remarked that he was not surprised to +hear it, and that it was no more than his deserts. This observation of +his had the natural effect of removing any traces of doubt which might +have remained in the minds of the coroner’s jury.” + +“It was a confession,” I ejaculated. + +“No, for it was followed by a protestation of innocence.” + +“Coming on the top of such a damning series of events, it was at least +a most suspicious remark.” + +“On the contrary,” said Holmes, “it is the brightest rift which I can +at present see in the clouds. However innocent he might be, he could +not be such an absolute imbecile as not to see that the circumstances +were very black against him. Had he appeared surprised at his own +arrest, or feigned indignation at it, I should have looked upon it as +highly suspicious, because such surprise or anger would not be natural +under the circumstances, and yet might appear to be the best policy to +a scheming man. His frank acceptance of the situation marks him as +either an innocent man, or else as a man of considerable self-restraint +and firmness. As to his remark about his deserts, it was also not +unnatural if you consider that he stood beside the dead body of his +father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very day so far +forgotten his filial duty as to bandy words with him, and even, +according to the little girl whose evidence is so important, to raise +his hand as if to strike him. The self-reproach and contrition which +are displayed in his remark appear to me to be the signs of a healthy +mind rather than of a guilty one.” + +I shook my head. “Many men have been hanged on far slighter evidence,” +I remarked. + +“So they have. And many men have been wrongfully hanged.” + +“What is the young man’s own account of the matter?” + +“It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, though +there are one or two points in it which are suggestive. You will find +it here, and may read it for yourself.” + +He picked out from his bundle a copy of the local Herefordshire paper, +and having turned down the sheet he pointed out the paragraph in which +the unfortunate young man had given his own statement of what had +occurred. I settled myself down in the corner of the carriage and read +it very carefully. It ran in this way: + +“Mr. James McCarthy, the only son of the deceased, was then called and +gave evidence as follows: ‘I had been away from home for three days at +Bristol, and had only just returned upon the morning of last Monday, +the 3rd. My father was absent from home at the time of my arrival, and +I was informed by the maid that he had driven over to Ross with John +Cobb, the groom. Shortly after my return I heard the wheels of his trap +in the yard, and, looking out of my window, I saw him get out and walk +rapidly out of the yard, though I was not aware in which direction he +was going. I then took my gun and strolled out in the direction of the +Boscombe Pool, with the intention of visiting the rabbit warren which +is upon the other side. On my way I saw William Crowder, the +game-keeper, as he had stated in his evidence; but he is mistaken in +thinking that I was following my father. I had no idea that he was in +front of me. When about a hundred yards from the pool I heard a cry of +“Cooee!” which was a usual signal between my father and myself. I then +hurried forward, and found him standing by the pool. He appeared to be +much surprised at seeing me and asked me rather roughly what I was +doing there. A conversation ensued which led to high words and almost +to blows, for my father was a man of a very violent temper. Seeing that +his passion was becoming ungovernable, I left him and returned towards +Hatherley Farm. I had not gone more than 150 yards, however, when I +heard a hideous outcry behind me, which caused me to run back again. I +found my father expiring upon the ground, with his head terribly +injured. I dropped my gun and held him in my arms, but he almost +instantly expired. I knelt beside him for some minutes, and then made +my way to Mr. Turner’s lodge-keeper, his house being the nearest, to +ask for assistance. I saw no one near my father when I returned, and I +have no idea how he came by his injuries. He was not a popular man, +being somewhat cold and forbidding in his manners, but he had, as far +as I know, no active enemies. I know nothing further of the matter.’ + +“The Coroner: Did your father make any statement to you before he died? + +“Witness: He mumbled a few words, but I could only catch some allusion +to a rat. + +“The Coroner: What did you understand by that? + +“Witness: It conveyed no meaning to me. I thought that he was +delirious. + +“The Coroner: What was the point upon which you and your father had +this final quarrel? + +“Witness: I should prefer not to answer. + +“The Coroner: I am afraid that I must press it. + +“Witness: It is really impossible for me to tell you. I can assure you +that it has nothing to do with the sad tragedy which followed. + +“The Coroner: That is for the court to decide. I need not point out to +you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your case considerably +in any future proceedings which may arise. + +“Witness: I must still refuse. + +“The Coroner: I understand that the cry of ‘Cooee’ was a common signal +between you and your father? + +“Witness: It was. + +“The Coroner: How was it, then, that he uttered it before he saw you, +and before he even knew that you had returned from Bristol? + +“Witness (with considerable confusion): I do not know. + +“A Juryman: Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions when you +returned on hearing the cry and found your father fatally injured? + +“Witness: Nothing definite. + +“The Coroner: What do you mean? + +“Witness: I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into the open, +that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet I have a vague +impression that as I ran forward something lay upon the ground to the +left of me. It seemed to me to be something grey in colour, a coat of +some sort, or a plaid perhaps. When I rose from my father I looked +round for it, but it was gone. + +“‘Do you mean that it disappeared before you went for help?’ + +“‘Yes, it was gone.’ + +“‘You cannot say what it was?’ + +“‘No, I had a feeling something was there.’ + +“‘How far from the body?’ + +“‘A dozen yards or so.’ + +“‘And how far from the edge of the wood?’ + +“‘About the same.’ + +“‘Then if it was removed it was while you were within a dozen yards of +it?’ + +“‘Yes, but with my back towards it.’ + +“This concluded the examination of the witness.” + +“I see,” said I as I glanced down the column, “that the coroner in his +concluding remarks was rather severe upon young McCarthy. He calls +attention, and with reason, to the discrepancy about his father having +signalled to him before seeing him, also to his refusal to give details +of his conversation with his father, and his singular account of his +father’s dying words. They are all, as he remarks, very much against +the son.” + +Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himself out upon the +cushioned seat. “Both you and the coroner have been at some pains,” +said he, “to single out the very strongest points in the young man’s +favour. Don’t you see that you alternately give him credit for having +too much imagination and too little? Too little, if he could not invent +a cause of quarrel which would give him the sympathy of the jury; too +much, if he evolved from his own inner consciousness anything so +_outré_ as a dying reference to a rat, and the incident of the +vanishing cloth. No, sir, I shall approach this case from the point of +view that what this young man says is true, and we shall see whither +that hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocket Petrarch, and +not another word shall I say of this case until we are on the scene of +action. We lunch at Swindon, and I see that we shall be there in twenty +minutes.” + +It was nearly four o’clock when we at last, after passing through the +beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn, found +ourselves at the pretty little country-town of Ross. A lean, +ferret-like man, furtive and sly-looking, was waiting for us upon the +platform. In spite of the light brown dustcoat and leather-leggings +which he wore in deference to his rustic surroundings, I had no +difficulty in recognising Lestrade, of Scotland Yard. With him we drove +to the Hereford Arms where a room had already been engaged for us. + +“I have ordered a carriage,” said Lestrade as we sat over a cup of tea. +“I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be happy until +you had been on the scene of the crime.” + +“It was very nice and complimentary of you,” Holmes answered. “It is +entirely a question of barometric pressure.” + +Lestrade looked startled. “I do not quite follow,” he said. + +“How is the glass? Twenty-nine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud in the +sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need smoking, and the +sofa is very much superior to the usual country hotel abomination. I do +not think that it is probable that I shall use the carriage to-night.” + +Lestrade laughed indulgently. “You have, no doubt, already formed your +conclusions from the newspapers,” he said. “The case is as plain as a +pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer it becomes. Still, +of course, one can’t refuse a lady, and such a very positive one, too. +She has heard of you, and would have your opinion, though I repeatedly +told her that there was nothing which you could do which I had not +already done. Why, bless my soul! here is her carriage at the door.” + +He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the most +lovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her violet eyes +shining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her cheeks, all thought of +her natural reserve lost in her overpowering excitement and concern. + +“Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” she cried, glancing from one to the other of +us, and finally, with a woman’s quick intuition, fastening upon my +companion, “I am so glad that you have come. I have driven down to tell +you so. I know that James didn’t do it. I know it, and I want you to +start upon your work knowing it, too. Never let yourself doubt upon +that point. We have known each other since we were little children, and +I know his faults as no one else does; but he is too tender-hearted to +hurt a fly. Such a charge is absurd to anyone who really knows him.” + +“I hope we may clear him, Miss Turner,” said Sherlock Holmes. “You may +rely upon my doing all that I can.” + +“But you have read the evidence. You have formed some conclusion? Do +you not see some loophole, some flaw? Do you not yourself think that he +is innocent?” + +“I think that it is very probable.” + +“There, now!” she cried, throwing back her head and looking defiantly +at Lestrade. “You hear! He gives me hopes.” + +Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. “I am afraid that my colleague has +been a little quick in forming his conclusions,” he said. + +“But he is right. Oh! I know that he is right. James never did it. And +about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the reason why he +would not speak about it to the coroner was because I was concerned in +it.” + +“In what way?” asked Holmes. + +“It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had many +disagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that there should +be a marriage between us. James and I have always loved each other as +brother and sister; but of course he is young and has seen very little +of life yet, and—and—well, he naturally did not wish to do anything +like that yet. So there were quarrels, and this, I am sure, was one of +them.” + +“And your father?” asked Holmes. “Was he in favour of such a union?” + +“No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr. McCarthy was in favour of +it.” A quick blush passed over her fresh young face as Holmes shot one +of his keen, questioning glances at her. + +“Thank you for this information,” said he. “May I see your father if I +call to-morrow?” + +“I am afraid the doctor won’t allow it.” + +“The doctor?” + +“Yes, have you not heard? Poor father has never been strong for years +back, but this has broken him down completely. He has taken to his bed, +and Dr. Willows says that he is a wreck and that his nervous system is +shattered. Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive who had known dad in the +old days in Victoria.” + +“Ha! In Victoria! That is important.” + +“Yes, at the mines.” + +“Quite so; at the gold-mines, where, as I understand, Mr. Turner made +his money.” + +“Yes, certainly.” + +“Thank you, Miss Turner. You have been of material assistance to me.” + +“You will tell me if you have any news to-morrow. No doubt you will go +to the prison to see James. Oh, if you do, Mr. Holmes, do tell him that +I know him to be innocent.” + +“I will, Miss Turner.” + +“I must go home now, for dad is very ill, and he misses me so if I +leave him. Good-bye, and God help you in your undertaking.” She hurried +from the room as impulsively as she had entered, and we heard the +wheels of her carriage rattle off down the street. + +“I am ashamed of you, Holmes,” said Lestrade with dignity after a few +minutes’ silence. “Why should you raise up hopes which you are bound to +disappoint? I am not over-tender of heart, but I call it cruel.” + +“I think that I see my way to clearing James McCarthy,” said Holmes. +“Have you an order to see him in prison?” + +“Yes, but only for you and me.” + +“Then I shall reconsider my resolution about going out. We have still +time to take a train to Hereford and see him to-night?” + +“Ample.” + +“Then let us do so. Watson, I fear that you will find it very slow, but +I shall only be away a couple of hours.” + +I walked down to the station with them, and then wandered through the +streets of the little town, finally returning to the hotel, where I lay +upon the sofa and tried to interest myself in a yellow-backed novel. +The puny plot of the story was so thin, however, when compared to the +deep mystery through which we were groping, and I found my attention +wander so continually from the action to the fact, that I at last flung +it across the room and gave myself up entirely to a consideration of +the events of the day. Supposing that this unhappy young man’s story +were absolutely true, then what hellish thing, what absolutely +unforeseen and extraordinary calamity could have occurred between the +time when he parted from his father, and the moment when, drawn back by +his screams, he rushed into the glade? It was something terrible and +deadly. What could it be? Might not the nature of the injuries reveal +something to my medical instincts? I rang the bell and called for the +weekly county paper, which contained a verbatim account of the inquest. +In the surgeon’s deposition it was stated that the posterior third of +the left parietal bone and the left half of the occipital bone had been +shattered by a heavy blow from a blunt weapon. I marked the spot upon +my own head. Clearly such a blow must have been struck from behind. +That was to some extent in favour of the accused, as when seen +quarrelling he was face to face with his father. Still, it did not go +for very much, for the older man might have turned his back before the +blow fell. Still, it might be worth while to call Holmes’ attention to +it. Then there was the peculiar dying reference to a rat. What could +that mean? It could not be delirium. A man dying from a sudden blow +does not commonly become delirious. No, it was more likely to be an +attempt to explain how he met his fate. But what could it indicate? I +cudgelled my brains to find some possible explanation. And then the +incident of the grey cloth seen by young McCarthy. If that were true +the murderer must have dropped some part of his dress, presumably his +overcoat, in his flight, and must have had the hardihood to return and +to carry it away at the instant when the son was kneeling with his back +turned not a dozen paces off. What a tissue of mysteries and +improbabilities the whole thing was! I did not wonder at Lestrade’s +opinion, and yet I had so much faith in Sherlock Holmes’ insight that I +could not lose hope as long as every fresh fact seemed to strengthen +his conviction of young McCarthy’s innocence. + +It was late before Sherlock Holmes returned. He came back alone, for +Lestrade was staying in lodgings in the town. + +“The glass still keeps very high,” he remarked as he sat down. “It is +of importance that it should not rain before we are able to go over the +ground. On the other hand, a man should be at his very best and keenest +for such nice work as that, and I did not wish to do it when fagged by +a long journey. I have seen young McCarthy.” + +“And what did you learn from him?” + +“Nothing.” + +“Could he throw no light?” + +“None at all. I was inclined to think at one time that he knew who had +done it and was screening him or her, but I am convinced now that he is +as puzzled as everyone else. He is not a very quick-witted youth, +though comely to look at and, I should think, sound at heart.” + +“I cannot admire his taste,” I remarked, “if it is indeed a fact that +he was averse to a marriage with so charming a young lady as this Miss +Turner.” + +“Ah, thereby hangs a rather painful tale. This fellow is madly, +insanely, in love with her, but some two years ago, when he was only a +lad, and before he really knew her, for she had been away five years at +a boarding-school, what does the idiot do but get into the clutches of +a barmaid in Bristol and marry her at a registry office? No one knows a +word of the matter, but you can imagine how maddening it must be to him +to be upbraided for not doing what he would give his very eyes to do, +but what he knows to be absolutely impossible. It was sheer frenzy of +this sort which made him throw his hands up into the air when his +father, at their last interview, was goading him on to propose to Miss +Turner. On the other hand, he had no means of supporting himself, and +his father, who was by all accounts a very hard man, would have thrown +him over utterly had he known the truth. It was with his barmaid wife +that he had spent the last three days in Bristol, and his father did +not know where he was. Mark that point. It is of importance. Good has +come out of evil, however, for the barmaid, finding from the papers +that he is in serious trouble and likely to be hanged, has thrown him +over utterly and has written to him to say that she has a husband +already in the Bermuda Dockyard, so that there is really no tie between +them. I think that that bit of news has consoled young McCarthy for all +that he has suffered.” + +“But if he is innocent, who has done it?” + +“Ah! who? I would call your attention very particularly to two points. +One is that the murdered man had an appointment with someone at the +pool, and that the someone could not have been his son, for his son was +away, and he did not know when he would return. The second is that the +murdered man was heard to cry ‘Cooee!’ before he knew that his son had +returned. Those are the crucial points upon which the case depends. And +now let us talk about George Meredith, if you please, and we shall +leave all minor matters until to-morrow.” + +There was no rain, as Holmes had foretold, and the morning broke bright +and cloudless. At nine o’clock Lestrade called for us with the +carriage, and we set off for Hatherley Farm and the Boscombe Pool. + +“There is serious news this morning,” Lestrade observed. “It is said +that Mr. Turner, of the Hall, is so ill that his life is despaired of.” + +“An elderly man, I presume?” said Holmes. + +“About sixty; but his constitution has been shattered by his life +abroad, and he has been in failing health for some time. This business +has had a very bad effect upon him. He was an old friend of McCarthy’s, +and, I may add, a great benefactor to him, for I have learned that he +gave him Hatherley Farm rent free.” + +“Indeed! That is interesting,” said Holmes. + +“Oh, yes! In a hundred other ways he has helped him. Everybody about +here speaks of his kindness to him.” + +“Really! Does it not strike you as a little singular that this +McCarthy, who appears to have had little of his own, and to have been +under such obligations to Turner, should still talk of marrying his son +to Turner’s daughter, who is, presumably, heiress to the estate, and +that in such a very cocksure manner, as if it were merely a case of a +proposal and all else would follow? It is the more strange, since we +know that Turner himself was averse to the idea. The daughter told us +as much. Do you not deduce something from that?” + +“We have got to the deductions and the inferences,” said Lestrade, +winking at me. “I find it hard enough to tackle facts, Holmes, without +flying away after theories and fancies.” + +“You are right,” said Holmes demurely; “you do find it very hard to +tackle the facts.” + +“Anyhow, I have grasped one fact which you seem to find it difficult to +get hold of,” replied Lestrade with some warmth. + +“And that is—” + +“That McCarthy senior met his death from McCarthy junior and that all +theories to the contrary are the merest moonshine.” + +“Well, moonshine is a brighter thing than fog,” said Holmes, laughing. +“But I am very much mistaken if this is not Hatherley Farm upon the +left.” + +“Yes, that is it.” It was a widespread, comfortable-looking building, +two-storied, slate-roofed, with great yellow blotches of lichen upon +the grey walls. The drawn blinds and the smokeless chimneys, however, +gave it a stricken look, as though the weight of this horror still lay +heavy upon it. We called at the door, when the maid, at Holmes’ +request, showed us the boots which her master wore at the time of his +death, and also a pair of the son’s, though not the pair which he had +then had. Having measured these very carefully from seven or eight +different points, Holmes desired to be led to the court-yard, from +which we all followed the winding track which led to Boscombe Pool. + +Sherlock Holmes was transformed when he was hot upon such a scent as +this. Men who had only known the quiet thinker and logician of Baker +Street would have failed to recognise him. His face flushed and +darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his +eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. His face was +bent downward, his shoulders bowed, his lips compressed, and the veins +stood out like whipcord in his long, sinewy neck. His nostrils seemed +to dilate with a purely animal lust for the chase, and his mind was so +absolutely concentrated upon the matter before him that a question or +remark fell unheeded upon his ears, or, at the most, only provoked a +quick, impatient snarl in reply. Swiftly and silently he made his way +along the track which ran through the meadows, and so by way of the +woods to the Boscombe Pool. It was damp, marshy ground, as is all that +district, and there were marks of many feet, both upon the path and +amid the short grass which bounded it on either side. Sometimes Holmes +would hurry on, sometimes stop dead, and once he made quite a little +detour into the meadow. Lestrade and I walked behind him, the detective +indifferent and contemptuous, while I watched my friend with the +interest which sprang from the conviction that every one of his actions +was directed towards a definite end. + +The Boscombe Pool, which is a little reed-girt sheet of water some +fifty yards across, is situated at the boundary between the Hatherley +Farm and the private park of the wealthy Mr. Turner. Above the woods +which lined it upon the farther side we could see the red, jutting +pinnacles which marked the site of the rich landowner’s dwelling. On +the Hatherley side of the pool the woods grew very thick, and there was +a narrow belt of sodden grass twenty paces across between the edge of +the trees and the reeds which lined the lake. Lestrade showed us the +exact spot at which the body had been found, and, indeed, so moist was +the ground, that I could plainly see the traces which had been left by +the fall of the stricken man. To Holmes, as I could see by his eager +face and peering eyes, very many other things were to be read upon the +trampled grass. He ran round, like a dog who is picking up a scent, and +then turned upon my companion. + +“What did you go into the pool for?” he asked. + +“I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some weapon or +other trace. But how on earth—” + +“Oh, tut, tut! I have no time! That left foot of yours with its inward +twist is all over the place. A mole could trace it, and there it +vanishes among the reeds. Oh, how simple it would all have been had I +been here before they came like a herd of buffalo and wallowed all over +it. Here is where the party with the lodge-keeper came, and they have +covered all tracks for six or eight feet round the body. But here are +three separate tracks of the same feet.” He drew out a lens and lay +down upon his waterproof to have a better view, talking all the time +rather to himself than to us. “These are young McCarthy’s feet. Twice +he was walking, and once he ran swiftly, so that the soles are deeply +marked and the heels hardly visible. That bears out his story. He ran +when he saw his father on the ground. Then here are the father’s feet +as he paced up and down. What is this, then? It is the butt-end of the +gun as the son stood listening. And this? Ha, ha! What have we here? +Tiptoes! tiptoes! Square, too, quite unusual boots! They come, they go, +they come again—of course that was for the cloak. Now where did they +come from?” He ran up and down, sometimes losing, sometimes finding the +track until we were well within the edge of the wood and under the +shadow of a great beech, the largest tree in the neighbourhood. Holmes +traced his way to the farther side of this and lay down once more upon +his face with a little cry of satisfaction. For a long time he remained +there, turning over the leaves and dried sticks, gathering up what +seemed to me to be dust into an envelope and examining with his lens +not only the ground but even the bark of the tree as far as he could +reach. A jagged stone was lying among the moss, and this also he +carefully examined and retained. Then he followed a pathway through the +wood until he came to the high road, where all traces were lost. + +“It has been a case of considerable interest,” he remarked, returning +to his natural manner. “I fancy that this grey house on the right must +be the lodge. I think that I will go in and have a word with Moran, and +perhaps write a little note. Having done that, we may drive back to our +luncheon. You may walk to the cab, and I shall be with you presently.” + +It was about ten minutes before we regained our cab and drove back into +Ross, Holmes still carrying with him the stone which he had picked up +in the wood. + +“This may interest you, Lestrade,” he remarked, holding it out. “The +murder was done with it.” + +“I see no marks.” + +“There are none.” + +“How do you know, then?” + +“The grass was growing under it. It had only lain there a few days. +There was no sign of a place whence it had been taken. It corresponds +with the injuries. There is no sign of any other weapon.” + +“And the murderer?” + +“Is a tall man, left-handed, limps with the right leg, wears +thick-soled shooting-boots and a grey cloak, smokes Indian cigars, uses +a cigar-holder, and carries a blunt pen-knife in his pocket. There are +several other indications, but these may be enough to aid us in our +search.” + +Lestrade laughed. “I am afraid that I am still a sceptic,” he said. +“Theories are all very well, but we have to deal with a hard-headed +British jury.” + +“_Nous verrons_,” answered Holmes calmly. “You work your own method, +and I shall work mine. I shall be busy this afternoon, and shall +probably return to London by the evening train.” + +“And leave your case unfinished?” + +“No, finished.” + +“But the mystery?” + +“It is solved.” + +“Who was the criminal, then?” + +“The gentleman I describe.” + +“But who is he?” + +“Surely it would not be difficult to find out. This is not such a +populous neighbourhood.” + +Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. “I am a practical man,” he said, “and +I really cannot undertake to go about the country looking for a +left-handed gentleman with a game leg. I should become the +laughing-stock of Scotland Yard.” + +“All right,” said Holmes quietly. “I have given you the chance. Here +are your lodgings. Good-bye. I shall drop you a line before I leave.” + +Having left Lestrade at his rooms, we drove to our hotel, where we +found lunch upon the table. Holmes was silent and buried in thought +with a pained expression upon his face, as one who finds himself in a +perplexing position. + +“Look here, Watson,” he said when the cloth was cleared “just sit down +in this chair and let me preach to you for a little. I don’t know quite +what to do, and I should value your advice. Light a cigar and let me +expound.” + + “Pray do so.” + +“Well, now, in considering this case there are two points about young +McCarthy’s narrative which struck us both instantly, although they +impressed me in his favour and you against him. One was the fact that +his father should, according to his account, cry ‘Cooee!’ before seeing +him. The other was his singular dying reference to a rat. He mumbled +several words, you understand, but that was all that caught the son’s +ear. Now from this double point our research must commence, and we will +begin it by presuming that what the lad says is absolutely true.” + +“What of this ‘Cooee!’ then?” + +“Well, obviously it could not have been meant for the son. The son, as +far as he knew, was in Bristol. It was mere chance that he was within +earshot. The ‘Cooee!’ was meant to attract the attention of whoever it +was that he had the appointment with. But ‘Cooee’ is a distinctly +Australian cry, and one which is used between Australians. There is a +strong presumption that the person whom McCarthy expected to meet him +at Boscombe Pool was someone who had been in Australia.” + +“What of the rat, then?” + +Sherlock Holmes took a folded paper from his pocket and flattened it +out on the table. “This is a map of the Colony of Victoria,” he said. +“I wired to Bristol for it last night.” He put his hand over part of +the map. “What do you read?” + +“ARAT,” I read. + +“And now?” He raised his hand. + +“BALLARAT.” + +“Quite so. That was the word the man uttered, and of which his son only +caught the last two syllables. He was trying to utter the name of his +murderer. So and so, of Ballarat.” + +“It is wonderful!” I exclaimed. + +“It is obvious. And now, you see, I had narrowed the field down +considerably. The possession of a grey garment was a third point which, +granting the son’s statement to be correct, was a certainty. We have +come now out of mere vagueness to the definite conception of an +Australian from Ballarat with a grey cloak.” + +“Certainly.” + +“And one who was at home in the district, for the pool can only be +approached by the farm or by the estate, where strangers could hardly +wander.” + +“Quite so.” + +“Then comes our expedition of to-day. By an examination of the ground I +gained the trifling details which I gave to that imbecile Lestrade, as +to the personality of the criminal.” + +“But how did you gain them?” + +“You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles.” + +“His height I know that you might roughly judge from the length of his +stride. His boots, too, might be told from their traces.” + +“Yes, they were peculiar boots.” + +“But his lameness?” + +“The impression of his right foot was always less distinct than his +left. He put less weight upon it. Why? Because he limped—he was lame.” + +“But his left-handedness.” + +“You were yourself struck by the nature of the injury as recorded by +the surgeon at the inquest. The blow was struck from immediately +behind, and yet was upon the left side. Now, how can that be unless it +were by a left-handed man? He had stood behind that tree during the +interview between the father and son. He had even smoked there. I found +the ash of a cigar, which my special knowledge of tobacco ashes enables +me to pronounce as an Indian cigar. I have, as you know, devoted some +attention to this, and written a little monograph on the ashes of 140 +different varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco. Having found +the ash, I then looked round and discovered the stump among the moss +where he had tossed it. It was an Indian cigar, of the variety which +are rolled in Rotterdam.” + +“And the cigar-holder?” + +“I could see that the end had not been in his mouth. Therefore he used +a holder. The tip had been cut off, not bitten off, but the cut was not +a clean one, so I deduced a blunt pen-knife.” + +“Holmes,” I said, “you have drawn a net round this man from which he +cannot escape, and you have saved an innocent human life as truly as if +you had cut the cord which was hanging him. I see the direction in +which all this points. The culprit is—” + +“Mr. John Turner,” cried the hotel waiter, opening the door of our +sitting-room, and ushering in a visitor. + +The man who entered was a strange and impressive figure. His slow, +limping step and bowed shoulders gave the appearance of decrepitude, +and yet his hard, deep-lined, craggy features, and his enormous limbs +showed that he was possessed of unusual strength of body and of +character. His tangled beard, grizzled hair, and outstanding, drooping +eyebrows combined to give an air of dignity and power to his +appearance, but his face was of an ashen white, while his lips and the +corners of his nostrils were tinged with a shade of blue. It was clear +to me at a glance that he was in the grip of some deadly and chronic +disease. + +“Pray sit down on the sofa,” said Holmes gently. “You had my note?” + +“Yes, the lodge-keeper brought it up. You said that you wished to see +me here to avoid scandal.” + +“I thought people would talk if I went to the Hall.” + +“And why did you wish to see me?” He looked across at my companion with +despair in his weary eyes, as though his question was already answered. + +“Yes,” said Holmes, answering the look rather than the words. “It is +so. I know all about McCarthy.” + +The old man sank his face in his hands. “God help me!” he cried. “But I +would not have let the young man come to harm. I give you my word that +I would have spoken out if it went against him at the Assizes.” + +“I am glad to hear you say so,” said Holmes gravely. + +“I would have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl. It would +break her heart—it will break her heart when she hears that I am +arrested.” + +“It may not come to that,” said Holmes. + +“What?” + +“I am no official agent. I understand that it was your daughter who +required my presence here, and I am acting in her interests. Young +McCarthy must be got off, however.” + +“I am a dying man,” said old Turner. “I have had diabetes for years. My +doctor says it is a question whether I shall live a month. Yet I would +rather die under my own roof than in a gaol.” + +Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his hand and a +bundle of paper before him. “Just tell us the truth,” he said. “I shall +jot down the facts. You will sign it, and Watson here can witness it. +Then I could produce your confession at the last extremity to save +young McCarthy. I promise you that I shall not use it unless it is +absolutely needed.” + +“It’s as well,” said the old man; “it’s a question whether I shall live +to the Assizes, so it matters little to me, but I should wish to spare +Alice the shock. And now I will make the thing clear to you; it has +been a long time in the acting, but will not take me long to tell. + +“You didn’t know this dead man, McCarthy. He was a devil incarnate. I +tell you that. God keep you out of the clutches of such a man as he. +His grip has been upon me these twenty years, and he has blasted my +life. I’ll tell you first how I came to be in his power. + +“It was in the early ’60’s at the diggings. I was a young chap then, +hot-blooded and reckless, ready to turn my hand at anything; I got +among bad companions, took to drink, had no luck with my claim, took to +the bush, and in a word became what you would call over here a highway +robber. There were six of us, and we had a wild, free life of it, +sticking up a station from time to time, or stopping the wagons on the +road to the diggings. Black Jack of Ballarat was the name I went under, +and our party is still remembered in the colony as the Ballarat Gang. + +“One day a gold convoy came down from Ballarat to Melbourne, and we lay +in wait for it and attacked it. There were six troopers and six of us, +so it was a close thing, but we emptied four of their saddles at the +first volley. Three of our boys were killed, however, before we got the +swag. I put my pistol to the head of the wagon-driver, who was this +very man McCarthy. I wish to the Lord that I had shot him then, but I +spared him, though I saw his wicked little eyes fixed on my face, as +though to remember every feature. We got away with the gold, became +wealthy men, and made our way over to England without being suspected. +There I parted from my old pals and determined to settle down to a +quiet and respectable life. I bought this estate, which chanced to be +in the market, and I set myself to do a little good with my money, to +make up for the way in which I had earned it. I married, too, and +though my wife died young she left me my dear little Alice. Even when +she was just a baby her wee hand seemed to lead me down the right path +as nothing else had ever done. In a word, I turned over a new leaf and +did my best to make up for the past. All was going well when McCarthy +laid his grip upon me. + +“I had gone up to town about an investment, and I met him in Regent +Street with hardly a coat to his back or a boot to his foot. + +“‘Here we are, Jack,’ says he, touching me on the arm; ‘we’ll be as +good as a family to you. There’s two of us, me and my son, and you can +have the keeping of us. If you don’t—it’s a fine, law-abiding country +is England, and there’s always a policeman within hail.’ + +“Well, down they came to the west country, there was no shaking them +off, and there they have lived rent free on my best land ever since. +There was no rest for me, no peace, no forgetfulness; turn where I +would, there was his cunning, grinning face at my elbow. It grew worse +as Alice grew up, for he soon saw I was more afraid of her knowing my +past than of the police. Whatever he wanted he must have, and whatever +it was I gave him without question, land, money, houses, until at last +he asked a thing which I could not give. He asked for Alice. + +“His son, you see, had grown up, and so had my girl, and as I was known +to be in weak health, it seemed a fine stroke to him that his lad +should step into the whole property. But there I was firm. I would not +have his cursed stock mixed with mine; not that I had any dislike to +the lad, but his blood was in him, and that was enough. I stood firm. +McCarthy threatened. I braved him to do his worst. We were to meet at +the pool midway between our houses to talk it over. + +“When I went down there I found him talking with his son, so I smoked a +cigar and waited behind a tree until he should be alone. But as I +listened to his talk all that was black and bitter in me seemed to come +uppermost. He was urging his son to marry my daughter with as little +regard for what she might think as if she were a slut from off the +streets. It drove me mad to think that I and all that I held most dear +should be in the power of such a man as this. Could I not snap the +bond? I was already a dying and a desperate man. Though clear of mind +and fairly strong of limb, I knew that my own fate was sealed. But my +memory and my girl! Both could be saved if I could but silence that +foul tongue. I did it, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again. Deeply as I +have sinned, I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But that +my girl should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was more +than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction than if +he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought back his son; +but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I was forced to go back +to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in my flight. That is the true +story, gentlemen, of all that occurred.” + +“Well, it is not for me to judge you,” said Holmes as the old man +signed the statement which had been drawn out. “I pray that we may +never be exposed to such a temptation.” + +“I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?” + +“In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you will +soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the Assizes. I +will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is condemned I shall be +forced to use it. If not, it shall never be seen by mortal eye; and +your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe with us.” + +“Farewell, then,” said the old man solemnly. “Your own deathbeds, when +they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace which you +have given to mine.” Tottering and shaking in all his giant frame, he +stumbled slowly from the room. + +“God help us!” said Holmes after a long silence. “Why does fate play +such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such a case as +this that I do not think of Baxter’s words, and say, ‘There, but for +the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.’” + +James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a number +of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and submitted to the +defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven months after our +interview, but he is now dead; and there is every prospect that the son +and daughter may come to live happily together in ignorance of the +black cloud which rests upon their past. + + + + +V. THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS + + +When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes cases +between the years ’82 and ’90, I am faced by so many which present +strange and interesting features that it is no easy matter to know +which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, have already gained +publicity through the papers, and others have not offered a field for +those peculiar qualities which my friend possessed in so high a degree, +and which it is the object of these papers to illustrate. Some, too, +have baffled his analytical skill, and would be, as narratives, +beginnings without an ending, while others have been but partially +cleared up, and have their explanations founded rather upon conjecture +and surmise than on that absolute logical proof which was so dear to +him. There is, however, one of these last which was so remarkable in +its details and so startling in its results that I am tempted to give +some account of it in spite of the fact that there are points in +connection with it which never have been, and probably never will be, +entirely cleared up. + +The year ’87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater or +less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my headings under +this one twelve months I find an account of the adventure of the +Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a luxurious +club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the facts +connected with the loss of the British barque _Sophy Anderson_, of the +singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and +finally of the Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as may be +remembered, Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead man’s +watch, to prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and that +therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time—a deduction +which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the case. All these +I may sketch out at some future date, but none of them present such +singular features as the strange train of circumstances which I have +now taken up my pen to describe. + +It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales had +set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had screamed and the +rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the heart of +great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds for the +instant from the routine of life and to recognise the presence of those +great elemental forces which shriek at mankind through the bars of his +civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage. As evening drew in, the +storm grew higher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a +child in the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the +fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime, while I at the other was +deep in one of Clark Russell’s fine sea-stories until the howl of the +gale from without seemed to blend with the text, and the splash of the +rain to lengthen out into the long swash of the sea waves. My wife was +on a visit to her mother’s, and for a few days I was a dweller once +more in my old quarters at Baker Street. + +“Why,” said I, glancing up at my companion, “that was surely the bell. +Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?” + +“Except yourself I have none,” he answered. “I do not encourage +visitors.” + +“A client, then?” + +“If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man out on +such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is more likely to +be some crony of the landlady’s.” + +Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there came a +step in the passage and a tapping at the door. He stretched out his +long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and towards the vacant +chair upon which a newcomer must sit. + +“Come in!” said he. + +The man who entered was young, some two-and-twenty at the outside, +well-groomed and trimly clad, with something of refinement and delicacy +in his bearing. The streaming umbrella which he held in his hand, and +his long shining waterproof told of the fierce weather through which he +had come. He looked about him anxiously in the glare of the lamp, and I +could see that his face was pale and his eyes heavy, like those of a +man who is weighed down with some great anxiety. + +“I owe you an apology,” he said, raising his golden pince-nez to his +eyes. “I trust that I am not intruding. I fear that I have brought some +traces of the storm and rain into your snug chamber.” + +“Give me your coat and umbrella,” said Holmes. “They may rest here on +the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from the +south-west, I see.” + +“Yes, from Horsham.” + +“That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is quite +distinctive.” + +“I have come for advice.” + +“That is easily got.” + +“And help.” + +“That is not always so easy.” + +“I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast how +you saved him in the Tankerville Club scandal.” + +“Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards.” + +“He said that you could solve anything.” + +“He said too much.” + +“That you are never beaten.” + +“I have been beaten four times—three times by men, and once by a +woman.” + +“But what is that compared with the number of your successes?” + +“It is true that I have been generally successful.” + +“Then you may be so with me.” + +“I beg that you will draw your chair up to the fire and favour me with +some details as to your case.” + +“It is no ordinary one.” + +“None of those which come to me are. I am the last court of appeal.” + +“And yet I question, sir, whether, in all your experience, you have +ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of events +than those which have happened in my own family.” + +“You fill me with interest,” said Holmes. “Pray give us the essential +facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards question you as to +those details which seem to me to be most important.” + +The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out towards +the blaze. + +“My name,” said he, “is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, as far +as I can understand, little to do with this awful business. It is a +hereditary matter; so in order to give you an idea of the facts, I must +go back to the commencement of the affair. + +“You must know that my grandfather had two sons—my uncle Elias and my +father Joseph. My father had a small factory at Coventry, which he +enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He was a patentee +of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business met with such +success that he was able to sell it and to retire upon a handsome +competence. + +“My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and became +a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done very well. At +the time of the war he fought in Jackson’s army, and afterwards under +Hood, where he rose to be a colonel. When Lee laid down his arms my +uncle returned to his plantation, where he remained for three or four +years. About 1869 or 1870 he came back to Europe and took a small +estate in Sussex, near Horsham. He had made a very considerable fortune +in the States, and his reason for leaving them was his aversion to the +negroes, and his dislike of the Republican policy in extending the +franchise to them. He was a singular man, fierce and quick-tempered, +very foul-mouthed when he was angry, and of a most retiring +disposition. During all the years that he lived at Horsham, I doubt if +ever he set foot in the town. He had a garden and two or three fields +round his house, and there he would take his exercise, though very +often for weeks on end he would never leave his room. He drank a great +deal of brandy and smoked very heavily, but he would see no society and +did not want any friends, not even his own brother. + +“He didn’t mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the time +when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This would be +in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England. He +begged my father to let me live with him and he was very kind to me in +his way. When he was sober he used to be fond of playing backgammon and +draughts with me, and he would make me his representative both with the +servants and with the tradespeople, so that by the time that I was +sixteen I was quite master of the house. I kept all the keys and could +go where I liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him +in his privacy. There was one singular exception, however, for he had a +single room, a lumber-room up among the attics, which was invariably +locked, and which he would never permit either me or anyone else to +enter. With a boy’s curiosity I have peeped through the keyhole, but I +was never able to see more than such a collection of old trunks and +bundles as would be expected in such a room. + +“One day—it was in March, 1883—a letter with a foreign stamp lay upon +the table in front of the colonel’s plate. It was not a common thing +for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in ready money, +and he had no friends of any sort. ‘From India!’ said he as he took it +up, ‘Pondicherry postmark! What can this be?’ Opening it hurriedly, out +there jumped five little dried orange pips, which pattered down upon +his plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my +lips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes were +protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope +which he still held in his trembling hand, ‘K. K. K.!’ he shrieked, and +then, ‘My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me!’ + +“‘What is it, uncle?’ I cried. + +“‘Death,’ said he, and rising from the table he retired to his room, +leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope and saw +scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the letter +K three times repeated. There was nothing else save the five dried +pips. What could be the reason of his overpowering terror? I left the +breakfast-table, and as I ascended the stair I met him coming down with +an old rusty key, which must have belonged to the attic, in one hand, +and a small brass box, like a cashbox, in the other. + +“‘They may do what they like, but I’ll checkmate them still,’ said he +with an oath. ‘Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room to-day, +and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.’ + +“I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to step +up to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the grate there +was a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned paper, while the brass +box stood open and empty beside it. As I glanced at the box I noticed, +with a start, that upon the lid was printed the treble K which I had +read in the morning upon the envelope. + +“‘I wish you, John,’ said my uncle, ‘to witness my will. I leave my +estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to my +brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to you. If you +can enjoy it in peace, well and good! If you find you cannot, take my +advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest enemy. I am sorry to +give you such a two-edged thing, but I can’t say what turn things are +going to take. Kindly sign the paper where Mr. Fordham shows you.’ + +“I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with him. +The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest impression +upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every way in my mind +without being able to make anything of it. Yet I could not shake off +the vague feeling of dread which it left behind, though the sensation +grew less keen as the weeks passed and nothing happened to disturb the +usual routine of our lives. I could see a change in my uncle, however. +He drank more than ever, and he was less inclined for any sort of +society. Most of his time he would spend in his room, with the door +locked upon the inside, but sometimes he would emerge in a sort of +drunken frenzy and would burst out of the house and tear about the +garden with a revolver in his hand, screaming out that he was afraid of +no man, and that he was not to be cooped up, like a sheep in a pen, by +man or devil. When these hot fits were over, however, he would rush +tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar it behind him, like a man +who can brazen it out no longer against the terror which lies at the +roots of his soul. At such times I have seen his face, even on a cold +day, glisten with moisture, as though it were new raised from a basin. + +“Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to abuse +your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken +sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when we went to +search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which lay +at the foot of the garden. There was no sign of any violence, and the +water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to his +known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of ‘suicide.’ But I, who knew +how he winced from the very thought of death, had much ado to persuade +myself that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The matter passed, +however, and my father entered into possession of the estate, and of +some £ 14,000, which lay to his credit at the bank.” + +“One moment,” Holmes interposed, “your statement is, I foresee, one of +the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me have the date +of the reception by your uncle of the letter, and the date of his +supposed suicide.” + +“The letter arrived on March 10, 1883. His death was seven weeks later, +upon the night of May 2nd.” + +“Thank you. Pray proceed.” + +“When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my request, made +a careful examination of the attic, which had been always locked up. We +found the brass box there, although its contents had been destroyed. On +the inside of the cover was a paper label, with the initials of K. K. +K. repeated upon it, and ‘Letters, memoranda, receipts, and a register’ +written beneath. These, we presume, indicated the nature of the papers +which had been destroyed by Colonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was +nothing of much importance in the attic save a great many scattered +papers and note-books bearing upon my uncle’s life in America. Some of +them were of the war time and showed that he had done his duty well and +had borne the repute of a brave soldier. Others were of a date during +the reconstruction of the Southern states, and were mostly concerned +with politics, for he had evidently taken a strong part in opposing the +carpet-bag politicians who had been sent down from the North. + +“Well, it was the beginning of ’84 when my father came to live at +Horsham, and all went as well as possible with us until the January of +’85. On the fourth day after the new year I heard my father give a +sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the breakfast-table. There +he was, sitting with a newly opened envelope in one hand and five dried +orange pips in the outstretched palm of the other one. He had always +laughed at what he called my cock-and-bull story about the colonel, but +he looked very scared and puzzled now that the same thing had come upon +himself. + +“‘Why, what on earth does this mean, John?’ he stammered. + +“My heart had turned to lead. ‘It is K. K. K.,’ said I. + +“He looked inside the envelope. ‘So it is,’ he cried. ‘Here are the +very letters. But what is this written above them?’ + +“‘Put the papers on the sundial,’ I read, peeping over his shoulder. + +“‘What papers? What sundial?’ he asked. + +“‘The sundial in the garden. There is no other,’ said I; ‘but the +papers must be those that are destroyed.’ + +“‘Pooh!’ said he, gripping hard at his courage. ‘We are in a civilised +land here, and we can’t have tomfoolery of this kind. Where does the +thing come from?’ + +“‘From Dundee,’ I answered, glancing at the postmark. + +“‘Some preposterous practical joke,’ said he. ‘What have I to do with +sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such nonsense.’ + +“‘I should certainly speak to the police,’ I said. + +“‘And be laughed at for my pains. Nothing of the sort.’ + +“‘Then let me do so?’ + +“‘No, I forbid you. I won’t have a fuss made about such nonsense.’ + +“It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate man. I +went about, however, with a heart which was full of forebodings. + +“On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went from +home to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody, who is in command +of one of the forts upon Portsdown Hill. I was glad that he should go, +for it seemed to me that he was farther from danger when he was away +from home. In that, however, I was in error. Upon the second day of his +absence I received a telegram from the major, imploring me to come at +once. My father had fallen over one of the deep chalk-pits which abound +in the neighbourhood, and was lying senseless, with a shattered skull. +I hurried to him, but he passed away without having ever recovered his +consciousness. He had, as it appears, been returning from Fareham in +the twilight, and as the country was unknown to him, and the chalk-pit +unfenced, the jury had no hesitation in bringing in a verdict of ‘death +from accidental causes.’ Carefully as I examined every fact connected +with his death, I was unable to find anything which could suggest the +idea of murder. There were no signs of violence, no footmarks, no +robbery, no record of strangers having been seen upon the roads. And +yet I need not tell you that my mind was far from at ease, and that I +was well-nigh certain that some foul plot had been woven round him. + +“In this sinister way I came into my inheritance. You will ask me why I +did not dispose of it? I answer, because I was well convinced that our +troubles were in some way dependent upon an incident in my uncle’s +life, and that the danger would be as pressing in one house as in +another. + +“It was in January, ’85, that my poor father met his end, and two years +and eight months have elapsed since then. During that time I have lived +happily at Horsham, and I had begun to hope that this curse had passed +away from the family, and that it had ended with the last generation. I +had begun to take comfort too soon, however; yesterday morning the blow +fell in the very shape in which it had come upon my father.” + +The young man took from his waistcoat a crumpled envelope, and turning +to the table he shook out upon it five little dried orange pips. + +“This is the envelope,” he continued. “The postmark is London—eastern +division. Within are the very words which were upon my father’s last +message: ‘K. K. K.’; and then ‘Put the papers on the sundial.’” + +“What have you done?” asked Holmes. + +“Nothing.” + +“Nothing?” + +“To tell the truth”—he sank his face into his thin, white hands—“I have +felt helpless. I have felt like one of those poor rabbits when the +snake is writhing towards it. I seem to be in the grasp of some +resistless, inexorable evil, which no foresight and no precautions can +guard against.” + +“Tut! tut!” cried Sherlock Holmes. “You must act, man, or you are lost. +Nothing but energy can save you. This is no time for despair.” + +“I have seen the police.” + +“Ah!” + +“But they listened to my story with a smile. I am convinced that the +inspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all practical +jokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really accidents, as +the jury stated, and were not to be connected with the warnings.” + +Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. “Incredible imbecility!” he +cried. + +“They have, however, allowed me a policeman, who may remain in the +house with me.” + +“Has he come with you to-night?” + +“No. His orders were to stay in the house.” + +Again Holmes raved in the air. + +“Why did you come to me?” he said, “and, above all, why did you not +come at once?” + +“I did not know. It was only to-day that I spoke to Major Prendergast +about my troubles and was advised by him to come to you.” + +“It is really two days since you had the letter. We should have acted +before this. You have no further evidence, I suppose, than that which +you have placed before us—no suggestive detail which might help us?” + +“There is one thing,” said John Openshaw. He rummaged in his coat +pocket, and, drawing out a piece of discoloured, blue-tinted paper, he +laid it out upon the table. “I have some remembrance,” said he, “that +on the day when my uncle burned the papers I observed that the small, +unburned margins which lay amid the ashes were of this particular +colour. I found this single sheet upon the floor of his room, and I am +inclined to think that it may be one of the papers which has, perhaps, +fluttered out from among the others, and in that way has escaped +destruction. Beyond the mention of pips, I do not see that it helps us +much. I think myself that it is a page from some private diary. The +writing is undoubtedly my uncle’s.” + +Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, which +showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from a book. It +was headed, “March, 1869,” and beneath were the following enigmatical +notices: + +“4th. Hudson came. Same old platform. + +“7th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and John Swain of St. +Augustine. + +“9th. McCauley cleared. + +“10th. John Swain cleared. + +“12th. Visited Paramore. All well.” + +“Thank you!” said Holmes, folding up the paper and returning it to our +visitor. “And now you must on no account lose another instant. We +cannot spare time even to discuss what you have told me. You must get +home instantly and act.” + +“What shall I do?” + +“There is but one thing to do. It must be done at once. You must put +this piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass box which +you have described. You must also put in a note to say that all the +other papers were burned by your uncle, and that this is the only one +which remains. You must assert that in such words as will carry +conviction with them. Having done this, you must at once put the box +out upon the sundial, as directed. Do you understand?” + +“Entirely.” + +“Do not think of revenge, or anything of the sort, at present. I think +that we may gain that by means of the law; but we have our web to +weave, while theirs is already woven. The first consideration is to +remove the pressing danger which threatens you. The second is to clear +up the mystery and to punish the guilty parties.” + +“I thank you,” said the young man, rising and pulling on his overcoat. +“You have given me fresh life and hope. I shall certainly do as you +advise.” + +“Do not lose an instant. And, above all, take care of yourself in the +meanwhile, for I do not think that there can be a doubt that you are +threatened by a very real and imminent danger. How do you go back?” + +“By train from Waterloo.” + +“It is not yet nine. The streets will be crowded, so I trust that you +may be in safety. And yet you cannot guard yourself too closely.” + +“I am armed.” + +“That is well. To-morrow I shall set to work upon your case.” + +“I shall see you at Horsham, then?” + +“No, your secret lies in London. It is there that I shall seek it.” + +“Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days, with news as to +the box and the papers. I shall take your advice in every particular.” +He shook hands with us and took his leave. Outside the wind still +screamed and the rain splashed and pattered against the windows. This +strange, wild story seemed to have come to us from amid the mad +elements—blown in upon us like a sheet of sea-weed in a gale—and now to +have been reabsorbed by them once more. + +Sherlock Holmes sat for some time in silence, with his head sunk +forward and his eyes bent upon the red glow of the fire. Then he lit +his pipe, and leaning back in his chair he watched the blue smoke-rings +as they chased each other up to the ceiling. + +“I think, Watson,” he remarked at last, “that of all our cases we have +had none more fantastic than this.” + +“Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four.” + +“Well, yes. Save, perhaps, that. And yet this John Openshaw seems to me +to be walking amid even greater perils than did the Sholtos.” + +“But have you,” I asked, “formed any definite conception as to what +these perils are?” + +“There can be no question as to their nature,” he answered. + +“Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and why does he pursue this +unhappy family?” + +Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon the arms of +his chair, with his finger-tips together. “The ideal reasoner,” he +remarked, “would, when he had once been shown a single fact in all its +bearings, deduce from it not only all the chain of events which led up +to it but also all the results which would follow from it. As Cuvier +could correctly describe a whole animal by the contemplation of a +single bone, so the observer who has thoroughly understood one link in +a series of incidents should be able to accurately state all the other +ones, both before and after. We have not yet grasped the results which +the reason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved in the study +which have baffled all those who have sought a solution by the aid of +their senses. To carry the art, however, to its highest pitch, it is +necessary that the reasoner should be able to utilise all the facts +which have come to his knowledge; and this in itself implies, as you +will readily see, a possession of all knowledge, which, even in these +days of free education and encyclopædias, is a somewhat rare +accomplishment. It is not so impossible, however, that a man should +possess all knowledge which is likely to be useful to him in his work, +and this I have endeavoured in my case to do. If I remember rightly, +you on one occasion, in the early days of our friendship, defined my +limits in a very precise fashion.” + +“Yes,” I answered, laughing. “It was a singular document. Philosophy, +astronomy, and politics were marked at zero, I remember. Botany +variable, geology profound as regards the mud-stains from any region +within fifty miles of town, chemistry eccentric, anatomy unsystematic, +sensational literature and crime records unique, violin-player, boxer, +swordsman, lawyer, and self-poisoner by cocaine and tobacco. Those, I +think, were the main points of my analysis.” + +Holmes grinned at the last item. “Well,” he said, “I say now, as I said +then, that a man should keep his little brain-attic stocked with all +the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest he can put away in +the lumber-room of his library, where he can get it if he wants it. +Now, for such a case as the one which has been submitted to us +to-night, we need certainly to muster all our resources. Kindly hand me +down the letter K of the _American Encyclopædia_ which stands upon the +shelf beside you. Thank you. Now let us consider the situation and see +what may be deduced from it. In the first place, we may start with a +strong presumption that Colonel Openshaw had some very strong reason +for leaving America. Men at his time of life do not change all their +habits and exchange willingly the charming climate of Florida for the +lonely life of an English provincial town. His extreme love of solitude +in England suggests the idea that he was in fear of someone or +something, so we may assume as a working hypothesis that it was fear of +someone or something which drove him from America. As to what it was he +feared, we can only deduce that by considering the formidable letters +which were received by himself and his successors. Did you remark the +postmarks of those letters?” + +“The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee, and the third +from London.” + +“From East London. What do you deduce from that?” + +“They are all seaports. That the writer was on board of a ship.” + +“Excellent. We have already a clue. There can be no doubt that the +probability—the strong probability—is that the writer was on board of a +ship. And now let us consider another point. In the case of +Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between the threat and its fulfilment, +in Dundee it was only some three or four days. Does that suggest +anything?” + +“A greater distance to travel.” + +“But the letter had also a greater distance to come.” + +“Then I do not see the point.” + +“There is at least a presumption that the vessel in which the man or +men are is a sailing-ship. It looks as if they always send their +singular warning or token before them when starting upon their mission. +You see how quickly the deed followed the sign when it came from +Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry in a steamer they would have +arrived almost as soon as their letter. But, as a matter of fact, seven +weeks elapsed. I think that those seven weeks represented the +difference between the mail-boat which brought the letter and the +sailing vessel which brought the writer.” + +“It is possible.” + +“More than that. It is probable. And now you see the deadly urgency of +this new case, and why I urged young Openshaw to caution. The blow has +always fallen at the end of the time which it would take the senders to +travel the distance. But this one comes from London, and therefore we +cannot count upon delay.” + +“Good God!” I cried. “What can it mean, this relentless persecution?” + +“The papers which Openshaw carried are obviously of vital importance to +the person or persons in the sailing-ship. I think that it is quite +clear that there must be more than one of them. A single man could not +have carried out two deaths in such a way as to deceive a coroner’s +jury. There must have been several in it, and they must have been men +of resource and determination. Their papers they mean to have, be the +holder of them who it may. In this way you see K. K. K. ceases to be +the initials of an individual and becomes the badge of a society.” + +“But of what society?” + +“Have you never—” said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward and sinking his +voice—“have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan?” + +“I never have.” + +Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee. “Here it is,” +said he presently: + +“‘Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to the +sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret society was +formed by some ex-Confederate soldiers in the Southern states after the +Civil War, and it rapidly formed local branches in different parts of +the country, notably in Tennessee, Louisiana, the Carolinas, Georgia, +and Florida. Its power was used for political purposes, principally for +the terrorising of the negro voters and the murdering and driving from +the country of those who were opposed to its views. Its outrages were +usually preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in some fantastic +but generally recognised shape—a sprig of oak-leaves in some parts, +melon seeds or orange pips in others. On receiving this the victim +might either openly abjure his former ways, or might fly from the +country. If he braved the matter out, death would unfailingly come upon +him, and usually in some strange and unforeseen manner. So perfect was +the organisation of the society, and so systematic its methods, that +there is hardly a case upon record where any man succeeded in braving +it with impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced home to +the perpetrators. For some years the organisation flourished in spite +of the efforts of the United States government and of the better +classes of the community in the South. Eventually, in the year 1869, +the movement rather suddenly collapsed, although there have been +sporadic outbreaks of the same sort since that date.’ + +“You will observe,” said Holmes, laying down the volume, “that the +sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the disappearance +of Openshaw from America with their papers. It may well have been cause +and effect. It is no wonder that he and his family have some of the +more implacable spirits upon their track. You can understand that this +register and diary may implicate some of the first men in the South, +and that there may be many who will not sleep easy at night until it is +recovered.” + +“Then the page we have seen—” + +“Is such as we might expect. It ran, if I remember right, ‘sent the +pips to A, B, and C’—that is, sent the society’s warning to them. Then +there are successive entries that A and B cleared, or left the country, +and finally that C was visited, with, I fear, a sinister result for C. +Well, I think, Doctor, that we may let some light into this dark place, +and I believe that the only chance young Openshaw has in the meantime +is to do what I have told him. There is nothing more to be said or to +be done to-night, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget +for half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable +ways of our fellow men.” + +It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a subdued +brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the great city. +Sherlock Holmes was already at breakfast when I came down. + +“You will excuse me for not waiting for you,” said he; “I have, I +foresee, a very busy day before me in looking into this case of young +Openshaw’s.” + +“What steps will you take?” I asked. + +“It will very much depend upon the results of my first inquiries. I may +have to go down to Horsham, after all.” + +“You will not go there first?” + +“No, I shall commence with the City. Just ring the bell and the maid +will bring up your coffee.” + +As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table and glanced +my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent a chill to my +heart. + +“Holmes,” I cried, “you are too late.” + +“Ah!” said he, laying down his cup, “I feared as much. How was it +done?” He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was deeply moved. + +“My eye caught the name of Openshaw, and the heading ‘Tragedy Near +Waterloo Bridge.’ Here is the account: + +“‘Between nine and ten last night Police-Constable Cook, of the H +Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and a +splash in the water. The night, however, was extremely dark and stormy, +so that, in spite of the help of several passers-by, it was quite +impossible to effect a rescue. The alarm, however, was given, and, by +the aid of the water-police, the body was eventually recovered. It +proved to be that of a young gentleman whose name, as it appears from +an envelope which was found in his pocket, was John Openshaw, and whose +residence is near Horsham. It is conjectured that he may have been +hurrying down to catch the last train from Waterloo Station, and that +in his haste and the extreme darkness he missed his path and walked +over the edge of one of the small landing-places for river steamboats. +The body exhibited no traces of violence, and there can be no doubt +that the deceased had been the victim of an unfortunate accident, which +should have the effect of calling the attention of the authorities to +the condition of the riverside landing-stages.’” + +We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed and shaken +than I had ever seen him. + +“That hurts my pride, Watson,” he said at last. “It is a petty feeling, +no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal matter with me +now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my hand upon this gang. +That he should come to me for help, and that I should send him away to +his death—!” He sprang from his chair and paced about the room in +uncontrollable agitation, with a flush upon his sallow cheeks and a +nervous clasping and unclasping of his long thin hands. + +“They must be cunning devils,” he exclaimed at last. “How could they +have decoyed him down there? The Embankment is not on the direct line +to the station. The bridge, no doubt, was too crowded, even on such a +night, for their purpose. Well, Watson, we shall see who will win in +the long run. I am going out now!” + +“To the police?” + +“No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may take +the flies, but not before.” + +All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in the +evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had not come +back yet. It was nearly ten o’clock before he entered, looking pale and +worn. He walked up to the sideboard, and tearing a piece from the loaf +he devoured it voraciously, washing it down with a long draught of +water. + +“You are hungry,” I remarked. + +“Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since +breakfast.” + +“Nothing?” + +“Not a bite. I had no time to think of it.” + +“And how have you succeeded?” + +“Well.” + +“You have a clue?” + +“I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long +remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish trade-mark +upon them. It is well thought of!” + +“What do you mean?” + +He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he +squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and thrust +them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote “S. H. for J. +O.” Then he sealed it and addressed it to “Captain James Calhoun, +Barque _Lone Star_, Savannah, Georgia.” + +“That will await him when he enters port,” said he, chuckling. “It may +give him a sleepless night. He will find it as sure a precursor of his +fate as Openshaw did before him.” + +“And who is this Captain Calhoun?” + +“The leader of the gang. I shall have the others, but he first.” + +“How did you trace it, then?” + +He took a large sheet of paper from his pocket, all covered with dates +and names. + +“I have spent the whole day,” said he, “over Lloyd’s registers and +files of the old papers, following the future career of every vessel +which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in ’83. There were +thirty-six ships of fair tonnage which were reported there during those +months. Of these, one, the _Lone Star_, instantly attracted my +attention, since, although it was reported as having cleared from +London, the name is that which is given to one of the states of the +Union.” + +“Texas, I think.” + +“I was not and am not sure which; but I knew that the ship must have an +American origin.” + +“What then?” + +“I searched the Dundee records, and when I found that the barque _Lone +Star_ was there in January, ’85, my suspicion became a certainty. I +then inquired as to the vessels which lay at present in the port of +London.” + +“Yes?” + +“The _Lone Star_ had arrived here last week. I went down to the Albert +Dock and found that she had been taken down the river by the early tide +this morning, homeward bound to Savannah. I wired to Gravesend and +learned that she had passed some time ago, and as the wind is easterly +I have no doubt that she is now past the Goodwins and not very far from +the Isle of Wight.” + +“What will you do, then?” + +“Oh, I have my hand upon him. He and the two mates, are as I learn, the +only native-born Americans in the ship. The others are Finns and +Germans. I know, also, that they were all three away from the ship last +night. I had it from the stevedore who has been loading their cargo. By +the time that their sailing-ship reaches Savannah the mail-boat will +have carried this letter, and the cable will have informed the police +of Savannah that these three gentlemen are badly wanted here upon a +charge of murder.” + +There is ever a flaw, however, in the best laid of human plans, and the +murderers of John Openshaw were never to receive the orange pips which +would show them that another, as cunning and as resolute as themselves, +was upon their track. Very long and very severe were the equinoctial +gales that year. We waited long for news of the _Lone Star_ of +Savannah, but none ever reached us. We did at last hear that somewhere +far out in the Atlantic a shattered stern-post of a boat was seen +swinging in the trough of a wave, with the letters “L. S.” carved upon +it, and that is all which we shall ever know of the fate of the _Lone +Star_. + + + + +VI. THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP + + +Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal of the +Theological College of St. George’s, was much addicted to opium. The +habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some foolish freak when he +was at college; for having read De Quincey’s description of his dreams +and sensations, he had drenched his tobacco with laudanum in an attempt +to produce the same effects. He found, as so many more have done, that +the practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many years +he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object of mingled horror and +pity to his friends and relatives. I can see him now, with yellow, +pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point pupils, all huddled in a +chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble man. + +One night—it was in June, ’89—there came a ring to my bell, about the +hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the clock. I sat up +in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work down in her lap and made +a little face of disappointment. + +“A patient!” said she. “You’ll have to go out.” + +I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day. + +We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps upon +the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in some +dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room. + +“You will excuse my calling so late,” she began, and then, suddenly +losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms about my +wife’s neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. “Oh, I’m in such trouble!” +she cried; “I do so want a little help.” + +“Why,” said my wife, pulling up her veil, “it is Kate Whitney. How you +startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when you came in.” + +“I didn’t know what to do, so I came straight to you.” That was always +the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds to a +lighthouse. + +“It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine and +water, and sit here comfortably and tell us all about it. Or should you +rather that I sent James off to bed?” + +“Oh, no, no! I want the doctor’s advice and help, too. It’s about Isa. +He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about him!” + +It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her husband’s +trouble, to me as a doctor, to my wife as an old friend and school +companion. We soothed and comforted her by such words as we could find. +Did she know where her husband was? Was it possible that we could bring +him back to her? + +It seems that it was. She had the surest information that of late he +had, when the fit was on him, made use of an opium den in the farthest +east of the City. Hitherto his orgies had always been confined to one +day, and he had come back, twitching and shattered, in the evening. But +now the spell had been upon him eight-and-forty hours, and he lay +there, doubtless among the dregs of the docks, breathing in the poison +or sleeping off the effects. There he was to be found, she was sure of +it, at the Bar of Gold, in Upper Swandam Lane. But what was she to do? +How could she, a young and timid woman, make her way into such a place +and pluck her husband out from among the ruffians who surrounded him? + +There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of it. +Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second thought, +why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney’s medical adviser, and as +such I had influence over him. I could manage it better if I were +alone. I promised her on my word that I would send him home in a cab +within two hours if he were indeed at the address which she had given +me. And so in ten minutes I had left my armchair and cheery +sitting-room behind me, and was speeding eastward in a hansom on a +strange errand, as it seemed to me at the time, though the future only +could show how strange it was to be. + +But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my adventure. +Upper Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the high wharves +which line the north side of the river to the east of London Bridge. +Between a slop-shop and a gin-shop, approached by a steep flight of +steps leading down to a black gap like the mouth of a cave, I found the +den of which I was in search. Ordering my cab to wait, I passed down +the steps, worn hollow in the centre by the ceaseless tread of drunken +feet; and by the light of a flickering oil-lamp above the door I found +the latch and made my way into a long, low room, thick and heavy with +the brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden berths, like the +forecastle of an emigrant ship. + +Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying in +strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads thrown +back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a dark, +lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black shadows +there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, now faint, as +the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of the metal pipes. The +most lay silent, but some muttered to themselves, and others talked +together in a strange, low, monotonous voice, their conversation coming +in gushes, and then suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumbling +out his own thoughts and paying little heed to the words of his +neighbour. At the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, +beside which on a three-legged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old +man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, and his elbows upon his +knees, staring into the fire. + +As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe for +me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth. + +“Thank you. I have not come to stay,” said I. “There is a friend of +mine here, Mr. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him.” + +There was a movement and an exclamation from my right, and peering +through the gloom, I saw Whitney, pale, haggard, and unkempt, staring +out at me. + +“My God! It’s Watson,” said he. He was in a pitiable state of reaction, +with every nerve in a twitter. “I say, Watson, what o’clock is it?” + +“Nearly eleven.” + +“Of what day?” + +“Of Friday, June 19th.” + +“Good heavens! I thought it was Wednesday. It is Wednesday. What d’you +want to frighten a chap for?” He sank his face onto his arms and began +to sob in a high treble key. + +“I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting this two +days for you. You should be ashamed of yourself!” + +“So I am. But you’ve got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here a few +hours, three pipes, four pipes—I forget how many. But I’ll go home with +you. I wouldn’t frighten Kate—poor little Kate. Give me your hand! Have +you a cab?” + +“Yes, I have one waiting.” + +“Then I shall go in it. But I must owe something. Find what I owe, +Watson. I am all off colour. I can do nothing for myself.” + +I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of sleepers, +holding my breath to keep out the vile, stupefying fumes of the drug, +and looking about for the manager. As I passed the tall man who sat by +the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my skirt, and a low voice +whispered, “Walk past me, and then look back at me.” The words fell +quite distinctly upon my ear. I glanced down. They could only have come +from the old man at my side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as ever, +very thin, very wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling down +from between his knees, as though it had dropped in sheer lassitude +from his fingers. I took two steps forward and looked back. It took all +my self-control to prevent me from breaking out into a cry of +astonishment. He had turned his back so that none could see him but I. +His form had filled out, his wrinkles were gone, the dull eyes had +regained their fire, and there, sitting by the fire and grinning at my +surprise, was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He made a slight motion +to me to approach him, and instantly, as he turned his face half round +to the company once more, subsided into a doddering, loose-lipped +senility. + +“Holmes!” I whispered, “what on earth are you doing in this den?” + +“As low as you can,” he answered; “I have excellent ears. If you would +have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend of yours I +should be exceedingly glad to have a little talk with you.” + +“I have a cab outside.” + +“Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him, for he +appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I should recommend you +also to send a note by the cabman to your wife to say that you have +thrown in your lot with me. If you will wait outside, I shall be with +you in five minutes.” + +It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes’ requests, for they +were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with such a quiet +air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney was once confined in +the cab my mission was practically accomplished; and for the rest, I +could not wish anything better than to be associated with my friend in +one of those singular adventures which were the normal condition of his +existence. In a few minutes I had written my note, paid Whitney’s bill, +led him out to the cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a +very short time a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den, and I +was walking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two streets he +shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot. Then, glancing +quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst into a hearty fit +of laughter. + +“I suppose, Watson,” said he, “that you imagine that I have added +opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little +weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical views.” + +“I was certainly surprised to find you there.” + +“But not more so than I to find you.” + +“I came to find a friend.” + +“And I to find an enemy.” + +“An enemy?” + +“Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural prey. +Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable inquiry, and I +have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent ramblings of these sots, as +I have done before now. Had I been recognised in that den my life would +not have been worth an hour’s purchase; for I have used it before now +for my own purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to +have vengeance upon me. There is a trap-door at the back of that +building, near the corner of Paul’s Wharf, which could tell some +strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless nights.” + +“What! You do not mean bodies?” + +“Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had £ 1000 for every +poor devil who has been done to death in that den. It is the vilest +murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I fear that Neville St. Clair +has entered it never to leave it more. But our trap should be here.” He +put his two forefingers between his teeth and whistled shrilly—a signal +which was answered by a similar whistle from the distance, followed +shortly by the rattle of wheels and the clink of horses’ hoofs. + +“Now, Watson,” said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through the +gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from its side +lanterns. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?” + +“If I can be of use.” + +“Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler still more so. +My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one.” + +“The Cedars?” + +“Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair’s house. I am staying there while I conduct +the inquiry.” + +“Where is it, then?” + +“Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us.” + +“But I am all in the dark.” + +“Of course you are. You’ll know all about it presently. Jump up here. +All right, John; we shall not need you. Here’s half a crown. Look out +for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her head. So long, then!” + +He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away through the +endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, which widened +gradually, until we were flying across a broad balustraded bridge, with +the murky river flowing sluggishly beneath us. Beyond lay another dull +wilderness of bricks and mortar, its silence broken only by the heavy, +regular footfall of the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some +belated party of revellers. A dull wrack was drifting slowly across the +sky, and a star or two twinkled dimly here and there through the rifts +of the clouds. Holmes drove in silence, with his head sunk upon his +breast, and the air of a man who is lost in thought, while I sat beside +him, curious to learn what this new quest might be which seemed to tax +his powers so sorely, and yet afraid to break in upon the current of +his thoughts. We had driven several miles, and were beginning to get to +the fringe of the belt of suburban villas, when he shook himself, +shrugged his shoulders, and lit up his pipe with the air of a man who +has satisfied himself that he is acting for the best. + +“You have a grand gift of silence, Watson,” said he. “It makes you +quite invaluable as a companion. ’Pon my word, it is a great thing for +me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are not +over-pleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dear little +woman to-night when she meets me at the door.” + +“You forget that I know nothing about it.” + +“I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before we get +to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow I can get nothing to +go upon. There’s plenty of thread, no doubt, but I can’t get the end of +it into my hand. Now, I’ll state the case clearly and concisely to you, +Watson, and maybe you can see a spark where all is dark to me.” + +“Proceed, then.” + +“Some years ago—to be definite, in May, 1884—there came to Lee a +gentleman, Neville St. Clair by name, who appeared to have plenty of +money. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very nicely, and +lived generally in good style. By degrees he made friends in the +neighbourhood, and in 1887 he married the daughter of a local brewer, +by whom he now has two children. He had no occupation, but was +interested in several companies and went into town as a rule in the +morning, returning by the 5:14 from Cannon Street every night. Mr. St. +Clair is now thirty-seven years of age, is a man of temperate habits, a +good husband, a very affectionate father, and a man who is popular with +all who know him. I may add that his whole debts at the present moment, +as far as we have been able to ascertain, amount to £ 88 10_s_., while +he has £ 220 standing to his credit in the Capital and Counties Bank. +There is no reason, therefore, to think that money troubles have been +weighing upon his mind. + +“Last Monday Mr. Neville St. Clair went into town rather earlier than +usual, remarking before he started that he had two important +commissions to perform, and that he would bring his little boy home a +box of bricks. Now, by the merest chance, his wife received a telegram +upon this same Monday, very shortly after his departure, to the effect +that a small parcel of considerable value which she had been expecting +was waiting for her at the offices of the Aberdeen Shipping Company. +Now, if you are well up in your London, you will know that the office +of the company is in Fresno Street, which branches out of Upper Swandam +Lane, where you found me to-night. Mrs. St. Clair had her lunch, +started for the City, did some shopping, proceeded to the company’s +office, got her packet, and found herself at exactly 4:35 walking +through Swandam Lane on her way back to the station. Have you followed +me so far?” + +“It is very clear.” + +“If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St. Clair +walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab, as she did +not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself. While she was +walking in this way down Swandam Lane, she suddenly heard an +ejaculation or cry, and was struck cold to see her husband looking down +at her and, as it seemed to her, beckoning to her from a second-floor +window. The window was open, and she distinctly saw his face, which she +describes as being terribly agitated. He waved his hands frantically to +her, and then vanished from the window so suddenly that it seemed to +her that he had been plucked back by some irresistible force from +behind. One singular point which struck her quick feminine eye was that +although he wore some dark coat, such as he had started to town in, he +had on neither collar nor necktie. + +“Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the +steps—for the house was none other than the opium den in which you +found me to-night—and running through the front room she attempted to +ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At the foot of the +stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of whom I have spoken, +who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who acts as assistant there, +pushed her out into the street. Filled with the most maddening doubts +and fears, she rushed down the lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in +Fresno Street a number of constables with an inspector, all on their +way to their beat. The inspector and two men accompanied her back, and +in spite of the continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their +way to the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen. There was no +sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that floor there was no one +to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who, it seems, +made his home there. Both he and the Lascar stoutly swore that no one +else had been in the front room during the afternoon. So determined was +their denial that the inspector was staggered, and had almost come to +believe that Mrs. St. Clair had been deluded when, with a cry, she +sprang at a small deal box which lay upon the table and tore the lid +from it. Out there fell a cascade of children’s bricks. It was the toy +which he had promised to bring home. + +“This discovery, and the evident confusion which the cripple showed, +made the inspector realise that the matter was serious. The rooms were +carefully examined, and results all pointed to an abominable crime. The +front room was plainly furnished as a sitting-room and led into a small +bedroom, which looked out upon the back of one of the wharves. Between +the wharf and the bedroom window is a narrow strip, which is dry at low +tide but is covered at high tide with at least four and a half feet of +water. The bedroom window was a broad one and opened from below. On +examination traces of blood were to be seen upon the windowsill, and +several scattered drops were visible upon the wooden floor of the +bedroom. Thrust away behind a curtain in the front room were all the +clothes of Mr. Neville St. Clair, with the exception of his coat. His +boots, his socks, his hat, and his watch—all were there. There were no +signs of violence upon any of these garments, and there were no other +traces of Mr. Neville St. Clair. Out of the window he must apparently +have gone for no other exit could be discovered, and the ominous +bloodstains upon the sill gave little promise that he could save +himself by swimming, for the tide was at its very highest at the moment +of the tragedy. + +“And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediately implicated in +the matter. The Lascar was known to be a man of the vilest antecedents, +but as, by Mrs. St. Clair’s story, he was known to have been at the +foot of the stair within a very few seconds of her husband’s appearance +at the window, he could hardly have been more than an accessory to the +crime. His defence was one of absolute ignorance, and he protested that +he had no knowledge as to the doings of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and +that he could not account in any way for the presence of the missing +gentleman’s clothes. + +“So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinister cripple who lives +upon the second floor of the opium den, and who was certainly the last +human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St. Clair. His name is Hugh +Boone, and his hideous face is one which is familiar to every man who +goes much to the City. He is a professional beggar, though in order to +avoid the police regulations he pretends to a small trade in wax +vestas. Some little distance down Threadneedle Street, upon the +left-hand side, there is, as you may have remarked, a small angle in +the wall. Here it is that this creature takes his daily seat, +cross-legged with his tiny stock of matches on his lap, and as he is a +piteous spectacle a small rain of charity descends into the greasy +leather cap which lies upon the pavement beside him. I have watched the +fellow more than once before ever I thought of making his professional +acquaintance, and I have been surprised at the harvest which he has +reaped in a short time. His appearance, you see, is so remarkable that +no one can pass him without observing him. A shock of orange hair, a +pale face disfigured by a horrible scar, which, by its contraction, has +turned up the outer edge of his upper lip, a bulldog chin, and a pair +of very penetrating dark eyes, which present a singular contrast to the +colour of his hair, all mark him out from amid the common crowd of +mendicants and so, too, does his wit, for he is ever ready with a reply +to any piece of chaff which may be thrown at him by the passers-by. +This is the man whom we now learn to have been the lodger at the opium +den, and to have been the last man to see the gentleman of whom we are +in quest.” + +“But a cripple!” said I. “What could he have done single-handed against +a man in the prime of life?” + +“He is a cripple in the sense that he walks with a limp; but in other +respects he appears to be a powerful and well-nurtured man. Surely your +medical experience would tell you, Watson, that weakness in one limb is +often compensated for by exceptional strength in the others.” + +“Pray continue your narrative.” + +“Mrs. St. Clair had fainted at the sight of the blood upon the window, +and she was escorted home in a cab by the police, as her presence could +be of no help to them in their investigations. Inspector Barton, who +had charge of the case, made a very careful examination of the +premises, but without finding anything which threw any light upon the +matter. One mistake had been made in not arresting Boone instantly, as +he was allowed some few minutes during which he might have communicated +with his friend the Lascar, but this fault was soon remedied, and he +was seized and searched, without anything being found which could +incriminate him. There were, it is true, some blood-stains upon his +right shirt-sleeve, but he pointed to his ring-finger, which had been +cut near the nail, and explained that the bleeding came from there, +adding that he had been to the window not long before, and that the +stains which had been observed there came doubtless from the same +source. He denied strenuously having ever seen Mr. Neville St. Clair +and swore that the presence of the clothes in his room was as much a +mystery to him as to the police. As to Mrs. St. Clair’s assertion that +she had actually seen her husband at the window, he declared that she +must have been either mad or dreaming. He was removed, loudly +protesting, to the police-station, while the inspector remained upon +the premises in the hope that the ebbing tide might afford some fresh +clue. + +“And it did, though they hardly found upon the mud-bank what they had +feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair’s coat, and not Neville St. +Clair, which lay uncovered as the tide receded. And what do you think +they found in the pockets?” + +“I cannot imagine.” + +“No, I don’t think you would guess. Every pocket stuffed with pennies +and half-pennies—421 pennies and 270 half-pennies. It was no wonder +that it had not been swept away by the tide. But a human body is a +different matter. There is a fierce eddy between the wharf and the +house. It seemed likely enough that the weighted coat had remained when +the stripped body had been sucked away into the river.” + +“But I understand that all the other clothes were found in the room. +Would the body be dressed in a coat alone?” + +“No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose that +this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the window, there +is no human eye which could have seen the deed. What would he do then? +It would of course instantly strike him that he must get rid of the +tell-tale garments. He would seize the coat, then, and be in the act of +throwing it out, when it would occur to him that it would swim and not +sink. He has little time, for he has heard the scuffle downstairs when +the wife tried to force her way up, and perhaps he has already heard +from his Lascar confederate that the police are hurrying up the street. +There is not an instant to be lost. He rushes to some secret hoard, +where he has accumulated the fruits of his beggary, and he stuffs all +the coins upon which he can lay his hands into the pockets to make sure +of the coat’s sinking. He throws it out, and would have done the same +with the other garments had not he heard the rush of steps below, and +only just had time to close the window when the police appeared.” + +“It certainly sounds feasible.” + +“Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a better. +Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the station, but +it could not be shown that there had ever before been anything against +him. He had for years been known as a professional beggar, but his life +appeared to have been a very quiet and innocent one. There the matter +stands at present, and the questions which have to be solved—what +Neville St. Clair was doing in the opium den, what happened to him when +there, where is he now, and what Hugh Boone had to do with his +disappearance—are all as far from a solution as ever. I confess that I +cannot recall any case within my experience which looked at the first +glance so simple and yet which presented such difficulties.” + +While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series of +events, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great town +until the last straggling houses had been left behind, and we rattled +along with a country hedge upon either side of us. Just as he finished, +however, we drove through two scattered villages, where a few lights +still glimmered in the windows. + +“We are on the outskirts of Lee,” said my companion. “We have touched +on three English counties in our short drive, starting in Middlesex, +passing over an angle of Surrey, and ending in Kent. See that light +among the trees? That is The Cedars, and beside that lamp sits a woman +whose anxious ears have already, I have little doubt, caught the clink +of our horse’s feet.” + +“But why are you not conducting the case from Baker Street?” I asked. + +“Because there are many inquiries which must be made out here. Mrs. St. +Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal, and you may rest +assured that she will have nothing but a welcome for my friend and +colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have no news of her +husband. Here we are. Whoa, there, whoa!” + +We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stood within its own +grounds. A stable-boy had run out to the horse’s head, and springing +down, I followed Holmes up the small, winding gravel-drive which led to +the house. As we approached, the door flew open, and a little blonde +woman stood in the opening, clad in some sort of light mousseline de +soie, with a touch of fluffy pink chiffon at her neck and wrists. She +stood with her figure outlined against the flood of light, one hand +upon the door, one half-raised in her eagerness, her body slightly +bent, her head and face protruded, with eager eyes and parted lips, a +standing question. + +“Well?” she cried, “well?” And then, seeing that there were two of us, +she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw that my +companion shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. + +“No good news?” + +“None.” + +“No bad?” + +“No.” + +“Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary, for you have had a +long day.” + +“This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to me in +several of my cases, and a lucky chance has made it possible for me to +bring him out and associate him with this investigation.” + +“I am delighted to see you,” said she, pressing my hand warmly. “You +will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our +arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so suddenly +upon us.” + +“My dear madam,” said I, “I am an old campaigner, and if I were not I +can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of any +assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be indeed +happy.” + +“Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said the lady as we entered a well-lit +dining-room, upon the table of which a cold supper had been laid out, +“I should very much like to ask you one or two plain questions, to +which I beg that you will give a plain answer.” + +“Certainly, madam.” + +“Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given to +fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion.” + +“Upon what point?” + +“In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive?” + +Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question. “Frankly, +now!” she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking keenly down at +him as he leaned back in a basket-chair. + +“Frankly, then, madam, I do not.” + +“You think that he is dead?” + +“I do.” + +“Murdered?” + +“I don’t say that. Perhaps.” + +“And on what day did he meet his death?” + +“On Monday.” + +“Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how it is +that I have received a letter from him to-day.” + +Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he had been galvanised. + +“What!” he roared. + +“Yes, to-day.” She stood smiling, holding up a little slip of paper in +the air. + +“May I see it?” + +“Certainly.” + +He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out upon the +table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I had left my +chair and was gazing at it over his shoulder. The envelope was a very +coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend postmark and with the +date of that very day, or rather of the day before, for it was +considerably after midnight. + +“Coarse writing,” murmured Holmes. “Surely this is not your husband’s +writing, madam.” + +“No, but the enclosure is.” + +“I perceive also that whoever addressed the envelope had to go and +inquire as to the address.” + +“How can you tell that?” + +“The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, which has dried itself. +The rest is of the greyish colour, which shows that blotting-paper has +been used. If it had been written straight off, and then blotted, none +would be of a deep black shade. This man has written the name, and +there has then been a pause before he wrote the address, which can only +mean that he was not familiar with it. It is, of course, a trifle, but +there is nothing so important as trifles. Let us now see the letter. +Ha! there has been an enclosure here!” + +“Yes, there was a ring. His signet-ring.” + +“And you are sure that this is your husband’s hand?” + +“One of his hands.” + +“One?” + +“His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlike his usual writing, +and yet I know it well.” + +“‘Dearest do not be frightened. All will come well. There is a huge +error which it may take some little time to rectify. Wait in +patience.—NEVILLE.’ Written in pencil upon the fly-leaf of a book, +octavo size, no water-mark. Hum! Posted to-day in Gravesend by a man +with a dirty thumb. Ha! And the flap has been gummed, if I am not very +much in error, by a person who had been chewing tobacco. And you have +no doubt that it is your husband’s hand, madam?” + +“None. Neville wrote those words.” + +“And they were posted to-day at Gravesend. Well, Mrs. St. Clair, the +clouds lighten, though I should not venture to say that the danger is +over.” + +“But he must be alive, Mr. Holmes.” + +“Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent. The +ring, after all, proves nothing. It may have been taken from him.” + +“No, no; it is, it is his very own writing!” + +“Very well. It may, however, have been written on Monday and only +posted to-day.” + +“That is possible.” + +“If so, much may have happened between.” + +“Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes. I know that all is well +with him. There is so keen a sympathy between us that I should know if +evil came upon him. On the very day that I saw him last he cut himself +in the bedroom, and yet I in the dining-room rushed upstairs instantly +with the utmost certainty that something had happened. Do you think +that I would respond to such a trifle and yet be ignorant of his +death?” + +“I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman may be +more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical reasoner. And in +this letter you certainly have a very strong piece of evidence to +corroborate your view. But if your husband is alive and able to write +letters, why should he remain away from you?” + +“I cannot imagine. It is unthinkable.” + +“And on Monday he made no remarks before leaving you?” + +“No.” + +“And you were surprised to see him in Swandam Lane?” + +“Very much so.” + +“Was the window open?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then he might have called to you?” + +“He might.” + +“He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry?” + +“Yes.” + +“A call for help, you thought?” + +“Yes. He waved his hands.” + +“But it might have been a cry of surprise. Astonishment at the +unexpected sight of you might cause him to throw up his hands?” + +“It is possible.” + +“And you thought he was pulled back?” + +“He disappeared so suddenly.” + +“He might have leaped back. You did not see anyone else in the room?” + +“No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and the +Lascar was at the foot of the stairs.” + +“Quite so. Your husband, as far as you could see, had his ordinary +clothes on?” + +“But without his collar or tie. I distinctly saw his bare throat.” + +“Had he ever spoken of Swandam Lane?” + +“Never.” + +“Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium?” + +“Never.” + +“Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. Those are the principal points about which +I wished to be absolutely clear. We shall now have a little supper and +then retire, for we may have a very busy day to-morrow.” + +A large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our +disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary after +my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, who, when he +had an unsolved problem upon his mind, would go for days, and even for +a week, without rest, turning it over, rearranging his facts, looking +at it from every point of view until he had either fathomed it or +convinced himself that his data were insufficient. It was soon evident +to me that he was now preparing for an all-night sitting. He took off +his coat and waistcoat, put on a large blue dressing-gown, and then +wandered about the room collecting pillows from his bed and cushions +from the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a sort of +Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself cross-legged, with an +ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front of him. In +the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an old briar pipe +between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner of the +ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, motionless, with +the light shining upon his strong-set aquiline features. So he sat as I +dropped off to sleep, and so he sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me +to wake up, and I found the summer sun shining into the apartment. The +pipe was still between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the +room was full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap +of shag which I had seen upon the previous night. + +“Awake, Watson?” he asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Game for a morning drive?” + +“Certainly.” + +“Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know where the stable-boy +sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out.” He chuckled to himself as +he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed a different man to the +sombre thinker of the previous night. + +As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one was +stirring. It was twenty-five minutes past four. I had hardly finished +when Holmes returned with the news that the boy was putting in the +horse. + +“I want to test a little theory of mine,” said he, pulling on his +boots. “I think, Watson, that you are now standing in the presence of +one of the most absolute fools in Europe. I deserve to be kicked from +here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the key of the affair now.” + +“And where is it?” I asked, smiling. + +“In the bathroom,” he answered. “Oh, yes, I am not joking,” he +continued, seeing my look of incredulity. “I have just been there, and +I have taken it out, and I have got it in this Gladstone bag. Come on, +my boy, and we shall see whether it will not fit the lock.” + +We made our way downstairs as quietly as possible, and out into the +bright morning sunshine. In the road stood our horse and trap, with the +half-clad stable-boy waiting at the head. We both sprang in, and away +we dashed down the London Road. A few country carts were stirring, +bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but the lines of villas on +either side were as silent and lifeless as some city in a dream. + +“It has been in some points a singular case,” said Holmes, flicking the +horse on into a gallop. “I confess that I have been as blind as a mole, +but it is better to learn wisdom late than never to learn it at all.” + +In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily from +their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey side. +Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the river, and +dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the right and found +ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known to the force, +and the two constables at the door saluted him. One of them held the +horse’s head while the other led us in. + +“Who is on duty?” asked Holmes. + +“Inspector Bradstreet, sir.” + +“Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?” A tall, stout official had come down the +stone-flagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged jacket. “I wish to +have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet.” + +“Certainly, Mr. Holmes. Step into my room here.” + +It was a small, office-like room, with a huge ledger upon the table, +and a telephone projecting from the wall. The inspector sat down at his +desk. + +“What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?” + +“I called about that beggarman, Boone—the one who was charged with +being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. Clair, of Lee.” + +“Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries.” + +“So I heard. You have him here?” + +“In the cells.” + +“Is he quiet?” + +“Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel.” + +“Dirty?” + +“Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his face is +as black as a tinker’s. Well, when once his case has been settled, he +will have a regular prison bath; and I think, if you saw him, you would +agree with me that he needed it.” + +“I should like to see him very much.” + +“Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave your +bag.” + +“No, I think that I’ll take it.” + +“Very good. Come this way, if you please.” He led us down a passage, +opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and brought us to a +whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each side. + +“The third on the right is his,” said the inspector. “Here it is!” He +quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door and glanced +through. + +“He is asleep,” said he. “You can see him very well.” + +We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his face +towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and heavily. He was +a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his calling, with a +coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat. He +was, as the inspector had said, extremely dirty, but the grime which +covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness. A broad +wheal from an old scar ran right across it from eye to chin, and by its +contraction had turned up one side of the upper lip, so that three +teeth were exposed in a perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright red +hair grew low over his eyes and forehead. + +“He’s a beauty, isn’t he?” said the inspector. + +“He certainly needs a wash,” remarked Holmes. “I had an idea that he +might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me.” He opened +the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my astonishment, a very +large bath-sponge. + +“He! he! You are a funny one,” chuckled the inspector. + +“Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very +quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable figure.” + +“Well, I don’t know why not,” said the inspector. “He doesn’t look a +credit to the Bow Street cells, does he?” He slipped his key into the +lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The sleeper half +turned, and then settled down once more into a deep slumber. Holmes +stooped to the water-jug, moistened his sponge, and then rubbed it +twice vigorously across and down the prisoner’s face. + +“Let me introduce you,” he shouted, “to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of Lee, +in the county of Kent.” + +Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man’s face peeled off +under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the coarse brown +tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had seamed it across, and +the twisted lip which had given the repulsive sneer to the face! A +twitch brought away the tangled red hair, and there, sitting up in his +bed, was a pale, sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and +smooth-skinned, rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy +bewilderment. Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a +scream and threw himself down with his face to the pillow. + +“Great heavens!” cried the inspector, “it is, indeed, the missing man. +I know him from the photograph.” + +The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons himself +to his destiny. “Be it so,” said he. “And pray what am I charged with?” + +“With making away with Mr. Neville St.— Oh, come, you can’t be charged +with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of it,” said the +inspector with a grin. “Well, I have been twenty-seven years in the +force, but this really takes the cake.” + +“If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious that no crime has +been committed, and that, therefore, I am illegally detained.” + +“No crime, but a very great error has been committed,” said Holmes. +“You would have done better to have trusted your wife.” + +“It was not the wife; it was the children,” groaned the prisoner. “God +help me, I would not have them ashamed of their father. My God! What an +exposure! What can I do?” + +Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couch and patted him kindly +on the shoulder. + +“If you leave it to a court of law to clear the matter up,” said he, +“of course you can hardly avoid publicity. On the other hand, if you +convince the police authorities that there is no possible case against +you, I do not know that there is any reason that the details should +find their way into the papers. Inspector Bradstreet would, I am sure, +make notes upon anything which you might tell us and submit it to the +proper authorities. The case would then never go into court at all.” + +“God bless you!” cried the prisoner passionately. “I would have endured +imprisonment, ay, even execution, rather than have left my miserable +secret as a family blot to my children. + +“You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father was a +schoolmaster in Chesterfield, where I received an excellent education. +I travelled in my youth, took to the stage, and finally became a +reporter on an evening paper in London. One day my editor wished to +have a series of articles upon begging in the metropolis, and I +volunteered to supply them. There was the point from which all my +adventures started. It was only by trying begging as an amateur that I +could get the facts upon which to base my articles. When an actor I +had, of course, learned all the secrets of making up, and had been +famous in the green-room for my skill. I took advantage now of my +attainments. I painted my face, and to make myself as pitiable as +possible I made a good scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by +the aid of a small slip of flesh-coloured plaster. Then with a red head +of hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the business +part of the city, ostensibly as a match-seller but really as a beggar. +For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned home in the +evening I found to my surprise that I had received no less than 26_s_. +4_d_. + +“I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until, some +time later, I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ served upon me +for £ 25. I was at my wit’s end where to get the money, but a sudden +idea came to me. I begged a fortnight’s grace from the creditor, asked +for a holiday from my employers, and spent the time in begging in the +City under my disguise. In ten days I had the money and had paid the +debt. + +“Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to arduous work +at £ 2 a week when I knew that I could earn as much in a day by +smearing my face with a little paint, laying my cap on the ground, and +sitting still. It was a long fight between my pride and the money, but +the dollars won at last, and I threw up reporting and sat day after day +in the corner which I had first chosen, inspiring pity by my ghastly +face and filling my pockets with coppers. Only one man knew my secret. +He was the keeper of a low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam +Lane, where I could every morning emerge as a squalid beggar and in the +evenings transform myself into a well-dressed man about town. This +fellow, a Lascar, was well paid by me for his rooms, so that I knew +that my secret was safe in his possession. + +“Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of money. +I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London could earn £ 700 +a year—which is less than my average takings—but I had exceptional +advantages in my power of making up, and also in a facility of +repartee, which improved by practice and made me quite a recognised +character in the City. All day a stream of pennies, varied by silver, +poured in upon me, and it was a very bad day in which I failed to take +£ 2. + +“As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the country, +and eventually married, without anyone having a suspicion as to my real +occupation. My dear wife knew that I had business in the City. She +little knew what. + +“Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in my room +above the opium den when I looked out of my window and saw, to my +horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the street, with +her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of surprise, threw up my arms +to cover my face, and, rushing to my confidant, the Lascar, entreated +him to prevent anyone from coming up to me. I heard her voice +downstairs, but I knew that she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off +my clothes, pulled on those of a beggar, and put on my pigments and +wig. Even a wife’s eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But +then it occurred to me that there might be a search in the room, and +that the clothes might betray me. I threw open the window, reopening by +my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in the +bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which was weighted by the +coppers which I had just transferred to it from the leather bag in +which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of the window, and it +disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes would have followed, but +at that moment there was a rush of constables up the stair, and a few +minutes after I found, rather, I confess, to my relief, that instead of +being identified as Mr. Neville St. Clair, I was arrested as his +murderer. + +“I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. I was +determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and hence my +preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would be terribly +anxious, I slipped off my ring and confided it to the Lascar at a +moment when no constable was watching me, together with a hurried +scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to fear.” + +“That note only reached her yesterday,” said Holmes. + +“Good God! What a week she must have spent!” + +“The police have watched this Lascar,” said Inspector Bradstreet, “and +I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to post a letter +unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor customer of his, who +forgot all about it for some days.” + +“That was it,” said Holmes, nodding approvingly; “I have no doubt of +it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging?” + +“Many times; but what was a fine to me?” + +“It must stop here, however,” said Bradstreet. “If the police are to +hush this thing up, there must be no more of Hugh Boone.” + +“I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man can take.” + +“In that case I think that it is probable that no further steps may be +taken. But if you are found again, then all must come out. I am sure, +Mr. Holmes, that we are very much indebted to you for having cleared +the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your results.” + +“I reached this one,” said my friend, “by sitting upon five pillows and +consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if we drive to Baker +Street we shall just be in time for breakfast.” + + + + +VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE + + +I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning +after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of +the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, a +pipe-rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled +morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch +was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and +disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in +several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair +suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the +purpose of examination. + +“You are engaged,” said I; “perhaps I interrupt you.” + +“Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my +results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one”—he jerked his thumb in +the direction of the old hat—“but there are points in connection with +it which are not entirely devoid of interest and even of instruction.” + +I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his +crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were +thick with the ice crystals. “I suppose,” I remarked, “that, homely as +it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it—that it is +the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery and the +punishment of some crime.” + +“No, no. No crime,” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “Only one of those +whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million +human beings all jostling each other within the space of a few square +miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, +every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and +many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and +bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience of +such.” + +“So much so,” I remarked, “that of the last six cases which I have +added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any legal crime.” + +“Precisely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler papers, +to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the adventure of +the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small +matter will fall into the same innocent category. You know Peterson, +the commissionaire?” + +“Yes.” + +“It is to him that this trophy belongs.” + +“It is his hat.” + +“No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look +upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual problem. +And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning, +in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting +at this moment in front of Peterson’s fire. The facts are these: about +four o’clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a +very honest fellow, was returning from some small jollification and was +making his way homeward down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he +saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, and +carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the +corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger and a +little knot of roughs. One of the latter knocked off the man’s hat, on +which he raised his stick to defend himself and, swinging it over his +head, smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward +to protect the stranger from his assailants; but the man, shocked at +having broken the window, and seeing an official-looking person in +uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and +vanished amid the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of +Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of +Peterson, so that he was left in possession of the field of battle, and +also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered hat and a +most unimpeachable Christmas goose.” + +“Which surely he restored to their owner?” + +“My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that ‘For Mrs. +Henry Baker’ was printed upon a small card which was tied to the bird’s +left leg, and it is also true that the initials ‘H. B.’ are legible +upon the lining of this hat, but as there are some thousands of Bakers, +and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it is not easy +to restore lost property to any one of them.” + +“What, then, did Peterson do?” + +“He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, +knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The +goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in +spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten +without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to +fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the +hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner.” + +“Did he not advertise?” + +“No.” + +“Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?” + +“Only as much as we can deduce.” + +“From his hat?” + +“Precisely.” + +“But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered felt?” + +“Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather yourself as +to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?” + +I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather +ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round shape, +hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of red silk, but +was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker’s name; but, as Holmes +had remarked, the initials “H. B.” were scrawled upon one side. It was +pierced in the brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was missing. For +the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several +places, although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the +discoloured patches by smearing them with ink. + +“I can see nothing,” said I, handing it back to my friend. + +“On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to +reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your +inferences.” + +“Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat?” + +He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion +which was characteristic of him. “It is perhaps less suggestive than it +might have been,” he remarked, “and yet there are a few inferences +which are very distinct, and a few others which represent at least a +strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is +of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly +well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon +evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing +to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his +fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, at +work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife +has ceased to love him.” + +“My dear Holmes!” + +“He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect,” he continued, +disregarding my remonstrance. “He is a man who leads a sedentary life, +goes out little, is out of training entirely, is middle-aged, has +grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days, and which +he anoints with lime-cream. These are the more patent facts which are +to be deduced from his hat. Also, by the way, that it is extremely +improbable that he has gas laid on in his house.” + +“You are certainly joking, Holmes.” + +“Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you these +results, you are unable to see how they are attained?” + +“I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I am +unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man was +intellectual?” + +For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over the +forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. “It is a question of +cubic capacity,” said he; “a man with so large a brain must have +something in it.” + +“The decline of his fortunes, then?” + +“This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge came +in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of +ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy +so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, then he +has assuredly gone down in the world.” + +“Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight and +the moral retrogression?” + +Sherlock Holmes laughed. “Here is the foresight,” said he putting his +finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. “They are +never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a +certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take this +precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken the +elastic and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he has +less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a +weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal some +of these stains upon the felt by daubing them with ink, which is a sign +that he has not entirely lost his self-respect.” + +“Your reasoning is certainly plausible.” + +“The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is grizzled, +that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime-cream, are all to +be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining. +The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut by the +scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and there is a +distinct odour of lime-cream. This dust, you will observe, is not the +gritty, grey dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, +showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the time, while the +marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the wearer +perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly be in the best of +training.” + +“But his wife—you said that she had ceased to love him.” + +“This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear +Watson, with a week’s accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your +wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also +have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife’s affection.” + +“But he might be a bachelor.” + +“Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace-offering to his wife. +Remember the card upon the bird’s leg.” + +“You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce that +the gas is not laid on in his house?” + +“One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see no +less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the +individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning +tallow—walks upstairs at night probably with his hat in one hand and a +guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow-stains from +a gas-jet. Are you satisfied?” + +“Well, it is very ingenious,” said I, laughing; “but since, as you said +just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm done save the +loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a waste of energy.” + +Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew open, +and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment with +flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with astonishment. + +“The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!” he gasped. + +“Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off through +the kitchen window?” Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get +a fairer view of the man’s excited face. + +“See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop!” He held out his +hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly +scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but of +such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the +dark hollow of his hand. + +Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. “By Jove, Peterson!” said he, +“this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you have got?” + +“A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though it were +putty.” + +“It’s more than a precious stone. It is _the_ precious stone.” + +“Not the Countess of Morcar’s blue carbuncle!” I ejaculated. + +“Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I have +read the advertisement about it in _The Times_ every day lately. It is +absolutely unique, and its value can only be conjectured, but the +reward offered of £ 1000 is certainly not within a twentieth part of +the market price.” + +“A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy!” The commissionaire plumped +down into a chair and stared from one to the other of us. + +“That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are +sentimental considerations in the background which would induce the +Countess to part with half her fortune if she could but recover the +gem.” + +“It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan,” I +remarked. + +“Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five days ago. John Horner, a +plumber, was accused of having abstracted it from the lady’s +jewel-case. The evidence against him was so strong that the case has +been referred to the Assizes. I have some account of the matter here, I +believe.” He rummaged amid his newspapers, glancing over the dates, +until at last he smoothed one out, doubled it over, and read the +following paragraph: + +“Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was +brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst., abstracted +from the jewel-case of the Countess of Morcar the valuable gem known as +the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, upper-attendant at the hotel, gave his +evidence to the effect that he had shown Horner up to the dressing-room +of the Countess of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he +might solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He had +remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been called +away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, that the +bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco casket in +which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was accustomed to keep +her jewel, was lying empty upon the dressing-table. Ryder instantly +gave the alarm, and Horner was arrested the same evening; but the stone +could not be found either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine +Cusack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder’s cry of +dismay on discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, +where she found matters as described by the last witness. Inspector +Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who +struggled frantically, and protested his innocence in the strongest +terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been given +against the prisoner, the magistrate refused to deal summarily with the +offence, but referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of +intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion +and was carried out of court.” + +“Hum! So much for the police-court,” said Holmes thoughtfully, tossing +aside the paper. “The question for us now to solve is the sequence of +events leading from a rifled jewel-case at one end to the crop of a +goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see, Watson, our little +deductions have suddenly assumed a much more important and less +innocent aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came from the goose, and +the goose came from Mr. Henry Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and +all the other characteristics with which I have bored you. So now we +must set ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman and +ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To do +this, we must try the simplest means first, and these lie undoubtedly +in an advertisement in all the evening papers. If this fail, I shall +have recourse to other methods.” + +“What will you say?” + +“Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: ‘Found at the +corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Baker +can have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at 221B, Baker +Street.’ That is clear and concise.” + +“Very. But will he see it?” + +“Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor man, +the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his mischance in +breaking the window and by the approach of Peterson that he thought of +nothing but flight, but since then he must have bitterly regretted the +impulse which caused him to drop his bird. Then, again, the +introduction of his name will cause him to see it, for everyone who +knows him will direct his attention to it. Here you are, Peterson, run +down to the advertising agency and have this put in the evening +papers.” + +“In which, sir?” + +“Oh, in the _Globe_, _Star_, _Pall Mall_, _St. James’s Gazette_, +_Evening News_, _Standard_, _Echo_, and any others that occur to you.” + +“Very well, sir. And this stone?” + +“Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, Peterson, just +buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we must +have one to give to this gentleman in place of the one which your +family is now devouring.” + +When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up the stone and held it +against the light. “It’s a bonny thing,” said he. “Just see how it +glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. +Every good stone is. They are the devil’s pet baits. In the larger and +older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed. This stone is not +yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in +southern China and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the +carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite +of its youth, it has already a sinister history. There have been two +murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought +about for the sake of this forty-grain weight of crystallised charcoal. +Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows +and the prison? I’ll lock it up in my strong box now and drop a line to +the Countess to say that we have it.” + +“Do you think that this man Horner is innocent?” + +“I cannot tell.” + +“Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had +anything to do with the matter?” + +“It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an absolutely +innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he was carrying was +of considerably more value than if it were made of solid gold. That, +however, I shall determine by a very simple test if we have an answer +to our advertisement.” + +“And you can do nothing until then?” + +“Nothing.” + +“In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall come +back in the evening at the hour you have mentioned, for I should like +to see the solution of so tangled a business.” + +“Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. +By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. +Hudson to examine its crop.” + +I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half-past six +when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I approached the +house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat which was +buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the bright semicircle which +was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I arrived the door was opened, +and we were shown up together to Holmes’ room. + +“Mr. Henry Baker, I believe,” said he, rising from his armchair and +greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he could so +readily assume. “Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. Baker. It is a +cold night, and I observe that your circulation is more adapted for +summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have just come at the right +time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker?” + +“Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat.” + +He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a broad, +intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled brown. A +touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight tremor of his extended +hand, recalled Holmes’ surmise as to his habits. His rusty black +frock-coat was buttoned right up in front, with the collar turned up, +and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a sign of cuff +or shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato fashion, choosing his words with +care, and gave the impression generally of a man of learning and +letters who had had ill-usage at the hands of fortune. + +“We have retained these things for some days,” said Holmes, “because we +expected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. I am at +a loss to know now why you did not advertise.” + +Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. “Shillings have not been so +plentiful with me as they once were,” he remarked. “I had no doubt that +the gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off both my hat and the +bird. I did not care to spend more money in a hopeless attempt at +recovering them.” + +“Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we were compelled to eat +it.” + +“To eat it!” Our visitor half rose from his chair in his excitement. + +“Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so. But I +presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is about the +same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your purpose equally +well?” + +“Oh, certainly, certainly,” answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of relief. + +“Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of your +own bird, so if you wish—” + +The man burst into a hearty laugh. “They might be useful to me as +relics of my adventure,” said he, “but beyond that I can hardly see +what use the _disjecta membra_ of my late acquaintance are going to be +to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I will confine my +attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive upon the sideboard.” + +Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug of his +shoulders. + +“There is your hat, then, and there your bird,” said he. “By the way, +would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one from? I am +somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a better grown +goose.” + +“Certainly, sir,” said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly gained +property under his arm. “There are a few of us who frequent the Alpha +Inn, near the Museum—we are to be found in the Museum itself during the +day, you understand. This year our good host, Windigate by name, +instituted a goose club, by which, on consideration of some few pence +every week, we were each to receive a bird at Christmas. My pence were +duly paid, and the rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, +sir, for a Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity.” +With a comical pomposity of manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and +strode off upon his way. + +“So much for Mr. Henry Baker,” said Holmes when he had closed the door +behind him. “It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever about +the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?” + +“Not particularly.” + +“Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up +this clue while it is still hot.” + +“By all means.” + +It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats +about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a +cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out into smoke +like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as +we swung through the doctors’ quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley Street, +and so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an +hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn, which is a small +public-house at the corner of one of the streets which runs down into +Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar and ordered two +glasses of beer from the ruddy-faced, white-aproned landlord. + +“Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese,” said +he. + +“My geese!” The man seemed surprised. + +“Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, who was +a member of your goose club.” + +“Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them’s not _our_ geese.” + +“Indeed! Whose, then?” + +“Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden.” + +“Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it?” + +“Breckinridge is his name.” + +“Ah! I don’t know him. Well, here’s your good health landlord, and +prosperity to your house. Good-night.” + +“Now for Mr. Breckinridge,” he continued, buttoning up his coat as we +came out into the frosty air. “Remember, Watson that though we have so +homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the +other a man who will certainly get seven years’ penal servitude unless +we can establish his innocence. It is possible that our inquiry may but +confirm his guilt; but, in any case, we have a line of investigation +which has been missed by the police, and which a singular chance has +placed in our hands. Let us follow it out to the bitter end. Faces to +the south, then, and quick march!” + +We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag +of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore the +name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor a horsey-looking man, +with a sharp face and trim side-whiskers was helping a boy to put up +the shutters. + +“Good-evening. It’s a cold night,” said Holmes. + +The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance at my companion. + +“Sold out of geese, I see,” continued Holmes, pointing at the bare +slabs of marble. + +“Let you have five hundred to-morrow morning.” + +“That’s no good.” + +“Well, there are some on the stall with the gas-flare.” + +“Ah, but I was recommended to you.” + +“Who by?” + +“The landlord of the Alpha.” + +“Oh, yes; I sent him a couple of dozen.” + +“Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from?” + +To my surprise the question provoked a burst of anger from the +salesman. + +“Now, then, mister,” said he, with his head cocked and his arms akimbo, +“what are you driving at? Let’s have it straight, now.” + +“It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese +which you supplied to the Alpha.” + +“Well then, I shan’t tell you. So now!” + +“Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don’t know why you should +be so warm over such a trifle.” + +“Warm! You’d be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. When I +pay good money for a good article there should be an end of the +business; but it’s ‘Where are the geese?’ and ‘Who did you sell the +geese to?’ and ‘What will you take for the geese?’ One would think they +were the only geese in the world, to hear the fuss that is made over +them.” + +“Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been making +inquiries,” said Holmes carelessly. “If you won’t tell us the bet is +off, that is all. But I’m always ready to back my opinion on a matter +of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the bird I ate is country +bred.” + +“Well, then, you’ve lost your fiver, for it’s town bred,” snapped the +salesman. + +“It’s nothing of the kind.” + +“I say it is.” + +“I don’t believe it.” + +“D’you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled them +ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that went to the +Alpha were town bred.” + +“You’ll never persuade me to believe that.” + +“Will you bet, then?” + +“It’s merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But I’ll +have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be obstinate.” + +The salesman chuckled grimly. “Bring me the books, Bill,” said he. + +The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great +greasy-backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging lamp. + +“Now then, Mr. Cocksure,” said the salesman, “I thought that I was out +of geese, but before I finish you’ll find that there is still one left +in my shop. You see this little book?” + +“Well?” + +“That’s the list of the folk from whom I buy. D’you see? Well, then, +here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers after their +names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. Now, then! You +see this other page in red ink? Well, that is a list of my town +suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just read it out to me.” + +“Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road—249,” read Holmes. + +“Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger.” + +Holmes turned to the page indicated. “Here you are, ‘Mrs. Oakshott, +117, Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier.’” + +“Now, then, what’s the last entry?” + +“‘December 22nd. Twenty-four geese at 7_s_. 6_d_.’” + +“Quite so. There you are. And underneath?” + +“‘Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at 12_s_.’” + +“What have you to say now?” + +Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from his +pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the air of a +man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off he stopped +under a lamp-post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which +was peculiar to him. + +“When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the ‘Pink ’un’ +protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet,” said +he. “I daresay that if I had put £ 100 down in front of him, that man +would not have given me such complete information as was drawn from him +by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. Well, Watson, we are, I +fancy, nearing the end of our quest, and the only point which remains +to be determined is whether we should go on to this Mrs. Oakshott +to-night, or whether we should reserve it for to-morrow. It is clear +from what that surly fellow said that there are others besides +ourselves who are anxious about the matter, and I should—” + +His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke out +from the stall which we had just left. Turning round we saw a little +rat-faced fellow standing in the centre of the circle of yellow light +which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckinridge, the +salesman, framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his fists +fiercely at the cringing figure. + +“I’ve had enough of you and your geese,” he shouted. “I wish you were +all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more with your +silly talk I’ll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. Oakshott here and +I’ll answer her, but what have you to do with it? Did I buy the geese +off you?” + +“No; but one of them was mine all the same,” whined the little man. + +“Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it.” + +“She told me to ask you.” + +“Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I’ve had enough +of it. Get out of this!” He rushed fiercely forward, and the inquirer +flitted away into the darkness. + +“Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road,” whispered Holmes. “Come +with me, and we will see what is to be made of this fellow.” Striding +through the scattered knots of people who lounged round the flaring +stalls, my companion speedily overtook the little man and touched him +upon the shoulder. He sprang round, and I could see in the gas-light +that every vestige of colour had been driven from his face. + +“Who are you, then? What do you want?” he asked in a quavering voice. + +“You will excuse me,” said Holmes blandly, “but I could not help +overhearing the questions which you put to the salesman just now. I +think that I could be of assistance to you.” + +“You? Who are you? How could you know anything of the matter?” + +“My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other +people don’t know.” + +“But you can know nothing of this?” + +“Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavouring to trace some +geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road, to a salesman +named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. Windigate, of the Alpha, and +by him to his club, of which Mr. Henry Baker is a member.” + +“Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet,” cried the +little fellow with outstretched hands and quivering fingers. “I can +hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter.” + +Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. “In that case +we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this wind-swept +market-place,” said he. “But pray tell me, before we go farther, who it +is that I have the pleasure of assisting.” + +The man hesitated for an instant. “My name is John Robinson,” he +answered with a sidelong glance. + +“No, no; the real name,” said Holmes sweetly. “It is always awkward +doing business with an alias.” + +A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. “Well then,” said +he, “my real name is James Ryder.” + +“Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray step into +the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you everything which you +would wish to know.” + +The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with +half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether he +is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped into +the cab, and in half an hour we were back in the sitting-room at Baker +Street. Nothing had been said during our drive, but the high, thin +breathing of our new companion, and the claspings and unclaspings of +his hands, spoke of the nervous tension within him. + +“Here we are!” said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. “The +fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, Mr. Ryder. +Pray take the basket-chair. I will just put on my slippers before we +settle this little matter of yours. Now, then! You want to know what +became of those geese?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in which +you were interested—white, with a black bar across the tail.” + +Ryder quivered with emotion. “Oh, sir,” he cried, “can you tell me +where it went to?” + +“It came here.” + +“Here?” + +“Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don’t wonder that you +should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was dead—the +bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. I have it here +in my museum.” + +Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece with his +right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up the blue +carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, brilliant, +many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a drawn face, uncertain +whether to claim or to disown it. + +“The game’s up, Ryder,” said Holmes quietly. “Hold up, man, or you’ll +be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair, Watson. He’s not +got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity. Give him a dash of +brandy. So! Now he looks a little more human. What a shrimp it is, to +be sure!” + +For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy brought +a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring with frightened +eyes at his accuser. + +“I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I could +possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. Still, that +little may as well be cleared up to make the case complete. You had +heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of the Countess of Morcar’s?” + +“It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it,” said he in a crackling +voice. + +“I see—her ladyship’s waiting-maid. Well, the temptation of sudden +wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it has been for +better men before you; but you were not very scrupulous in the means +you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is the making of a very +pretty villain in you. You knew that this man Horner, the plumber, had +been concerned in some such matter before, and that suspicion would +rest the more readily upon him. What did you do, then? You made some +small job in my lady’s room—you and your confederate Cusack—and you +managed that he should be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you +rifled the jewel-case, raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate man +arrested. You then—” + +Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my +companion’s knees. “For God’s sake, have mercy!” he shrieked. “Think of +my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I never went +wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I’ll swear it on a Bible. +Oh, don’t bring it into court! For Christ’s sake, don’t!” + +“Get back into your chair!” said Holmes sternly. “It is very well to +cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this poor Horner +in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing.” + +“I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the charge +against him will break down.” + +“Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true account of +the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came the goose +into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies your only hope +of safety.” + +Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. “I will tell you it just +as it happened, sir,” said he. “When Horner had been arrested, it +seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away with the stone at +once, for I did not know at what moment the police might not take it +into their heads to search me and my room. There was no place about the +hotel where it would be safe. I went out, as if on some commission, and +I made for my sister’s house. She had married a man named Oakshott, and +lived in Brixton Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the +way there every man I met seemed to me to be a policeman or a +detective; and, for all that it was a cold night, the sweat was pouring +down my face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked me what +was the matter, and why I was so pale; but I told her that I had been +upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went into the back yard +and smoked a pipe and wondered what it would be best to do. + +“I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, and has just +been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met me, and fell +into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they could get rid of what +they stole. I knew that he would be true to me, for I knew one or two +things about him; so I made up my mind to go right on to Kilburn, where +he lived, and take him into my confidence. He would show me how to turn +the stone into money. But how to get to him in safety? I thought of the +agonies I had gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any +moment be seized and searched, and there would be the stone in my +waistcoat pocket. I was leaning against the wall at the time and +looking at the geese which were waddling about round my feet, and +suddenly an idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat the +best detective that ever lived. + +“My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of +her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she was always as +good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I would carry my +stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in the yard, and behind this +I drove one of the birds—a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I +caught it, and prying its bill open, I thrust the stone down its throat +as far as my finger could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the +stone pass along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature +flapped and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the +matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and fluttered +off among the others. + +“‘Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?’ says she. + +“‘Well,’ said I, ‘you said you’d give me one for Christmas, and I was +feeling which was the fattest.’ + +“‘Oh,’ says she, ‘we’ve set yours aside for you—Jem’s bird, we call it. +It’s the big white one over yonder. There’s twenty-six of them, which +makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.’ + +“‘Thank you, Maggie,’ says I; ‘but if it is all the same to you, I’d +rather have that one I was handling just now.’ + +“‘The other is a good three pound heavier,’ said she, ‘and we fattened +it expressly for you.’ + +“‘Never mind. I’ll have the other, and I’ll take it now,’ said I. + +“‘Oh, just as you like,’ said she, a little huffed. ‘Which is it you +want, then?’ + +“‘That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the +flock.’ + +“‘Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.’ + +“Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird all the +way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man that it +was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked, and +we got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to water, for +there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some terrible mistake +had occurred. I left the bird, rushed back to my sister’s, and hurried +into the back yard. There was not a bird to be seen there. + +“‘Where are they all, Maggie?’ I cried. + +“‘Gone to the dealer’s, Jem.’ + +“‘Which dealer’s?’ + +“‘Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.’ + +“‘But was there another with a barred tail?’ I asked, ‘the same as the +one I chose?’ + +“‘Yes, Jem; there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never tell +them apart.’ + +“Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my feet +would carry me to this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the lot at +once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they had gone. You +heard him yourselves to-night. Well, he has always answered me like +that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think that I am +myself. And now—and now I am myself a branded thief, without ever +having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. God help me! +God help me!” He burst into convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in +his hands. + +There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and by the +measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes’ finger-tips upon the edge of the +table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door. + +“Get out!” said he. + +“What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!” + +“No more words. Get out!” + +And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the +stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls +from the street. + +“After all, Watson,” said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay +pipe, “I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. If +Horner were in danger it would be another thing; but this fellow will +not appear against him, and the case must collapse. I suppose that I am +commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. +This fellow will not go wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. +Send him to gaol now, and you make him a gaol-bird for life. Besides, +it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most +singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward. If +you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin +another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief +feature.” + + + + +VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND + + +On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I have +during the last eight years studied the methods of my friend Sherlock +Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number merely strange, +but none commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the love of his +art than for the acquirement of wealth, he refused to associate himself +with any investigation which did not tend towards the unusual, and even +the fantastic. Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any +which presented more singular features than that which was associated +with the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. The +events in question occurred in the early days of my association with +Holmes, when we were sharing rooms as bachelors in Baker Street. It is +possible that I might have placed them upon record before, but a +promise of secrecy was made at the time, from which I have only been +freed during the last month by the untimely death of the lady to whom +the pledge was given. It is perhaps as well that the facts should now +come to light, for I have reasons to know that there are widespread +rumours as to the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the +matter even more terrible than the truth. + +It was early in April in the year ’83 that I woke one morning to find +Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He was +a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed me +that it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in some +surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myself +regular in my habits. + +“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,” said he, “but it’s the common lot +this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me, +and I on you.” + +“What is it, then—a fire?” + +“No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable +state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now in +the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about the metropolis at +this hour of the morning, and knock sleepy people up out of their beds, +I presume that it is something very pressing which they have to +communicate. Should it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am +sure, wish to follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I +should call you and give you the chance.” + +“My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything.” + +I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professional +investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as +intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis with which he +unravelled the problems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw on +my clothes and was ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend down +to the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who +had been sitting in the window, rose as we entered. + +“Good-morning, madam,” said Holmes cheerily. “My name is Sherlock +Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, before +whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am glad to see +that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the fire. Pray draw up +to it, and I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I observe that +you are shivering.” + +“It is not cold which makes me shiver,” said the woman in a low voice, +changing her seat as requested. + +“What, then?” + +“It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror.” She raised her veil as she +spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state of +agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless frightened eyes, +like those of some hunted animal. Her features and figure were those of +a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot with premature grey, and her +expression was weary and haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one +of his quick, all-comprehensive glances. + +“You must not fear,” said he soothingly, bending forward and patting +her forearm. “We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt. You +have come in by train this morning, I see.” + +“You know me, then?” + +“No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm of +your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had a good +drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached the +station.” + +The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at my +companion. + +“There is no mystery, my dear madam,” said he, smiling. “The left arm +of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven places. The +marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a dog-cart which +throws up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the left-hand +side of the driver.” + +“Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct,” said she. “I +started from home before six, reached Leatherhead at twenty past, and +came in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I can stand this strain no +longer; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to turn to—none, +save only one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow, can be of little +aid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs. +Farintosh, whom you helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from +her that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you could +help me, too, and at least throw a little light through the dense +darkness which surrounds me? At present it is out of my power to reward +you for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall be married, +with the control of my own income, and then at least you shall not find +me ungrateful.” + +Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small +case-book, which he consulted. + +“Farintosh,” said he. “Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned with +an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can only say, +madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to your case as I +did to that of your friend. As to reward, my profession is its own +reward; but you are at liberty to defray whatever expenses I may be put +to, at the time which suits you best. And now I beg that you will lay +before us everything that may help us in forming an opinion upon the +matter.” + +“Alas!” replied our visitor, “the very horror of my situation lies in +the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so +entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to another, that +even he to whom of all others I have a right to look for help and +advice looks upon all that I tell him about it as the fancies of a +nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can read it from his soothing +answers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr. Holmes, that you can +see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart. You may +advise me how to walk amid the dangers which encompass me.” + +“I am all attention, madam.” + +“My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who is +the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the +Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey.” + +Holmes nodded his head. “The name is familiar to me,” said he. + +“The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the +estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, and +Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successive +heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the family ruin +was eventually completed by a gambler in the days of the Regency. +Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, and the +two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavy +mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence there, living the +horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his only son, my +stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to the new conditions, +obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled him to take a +medical degree and went out to Calcutta, where, by his professional +skill and his force of character, he established a large practice. In a +fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been +perpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death and +narrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a long term +of imprisonment and afterwards returned to England a morose and +disappointed man. + +“When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, the +young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. My sister +Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the time of +my mother’s re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of money—not less +than £ 1000 a year—and this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely +while we resided with him, with a provision that a certain annual sum +should be allowed to each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly +after our return to England my mother died—she was killed eight years +ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned his +attempts to establish himself in practice in London and took us to live +with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The money which my +mother had left was enough for all our wants, and there seemed to be no +obstacle to our happiness. + +“But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. +Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours, +who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back in +the old family seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom came +out save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might cross his +path. Violence of temper approaching to mania has been hereditary in +the men of the family, and in my stepfather’s case it had, I believe, +been intensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series of +disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the police-court, +until at last he became the terror of the village, and the folks would +fly at his approach, for he is a man of immense strength, and +absolutely uncontrollable in his anger. + +“Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a stream, +and it was only by paying over all the money which I could gather +together that I was able to avert another public exposure. He had no +friends at all save the wandering gipsies, and he would give these +vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered land +which represent the family estate, and would accept in return the +hospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes for +weeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are sent +over to him by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah and +a baboon, which wander freely over his grounds and are feared by the +villagers almost as much as their master. + +“You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had no +great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with us, and for a +long time we did all the work of the house. She was but thirty at the +time of her death, and yet her hair had already begun to whiten, even +as mine has.” + +“Your sister is dead, then?” + +“She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish to +speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I have +described, we were little likely to see anyone of our own age and +position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother’s maiden sister, Miss +Honoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we were occasionally +allowed to pay short visits at this lady’s house. Julia went there at +Christmas two years ago, and met there a half-pay major of marines, to +whom she became engaged. My stepfather learned of the engagement when +my sister returned and offered no objection to the marriage; but within +a fortnight of the day which had been fixed for the wedding, the +terrible event occurred which has deprived me of my only companion.” + +Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed +and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his lids now and +glanced across at his visitor. + +“Pray be precise as to details,” said he. + +“It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful time is +seared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I have already said, very +old, and only one wing is now inhabited. The bedrooms in this wing are +on the ground floor, the sitting-rooms being in the central block of +the buildings. Of these bedrooms the first is Dr. Roylott’s, the second +my sister’s, and the third my own. There is no communication between +them, but they all open out into the same corridor. Do I make myself +plain?” + +“Perfectly so.” + +“The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That fatal +night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we knew that he +had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled by the smell of the +strong Indian cigars which it was his custom to smoke. She left her +room, therefore, and came into mine, where she sat for some time, +chatting about her approaching wedding. At eleven o’clock she rose to +leave me, but she paused at the door and looked back. + +“‘Tell me, Helen,’ said she, ‘have you ever heard anyone whistle in the +dead of the night?’ + +“‘Never,’ said I. + +“‘I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in your +sleep?’ + +“‘Certainly not. But why?’ + +“‘Because during the last few nights I have always, about three in the +morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it has +awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from—perhaps from the next +room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just ask you +whether you had heard it.’ + +“‘No, I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in the plantation.’ + +“‘Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you did +not hear it also.’ + +“‘Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.’ + +“‘Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.’ She smiled back at +me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her key turn in the +lock.” + +“Indeed,” said Holmes. “Was it your custom always to lock yourselves in +at night?” + +“Always.” + +“And why?” + +“I think that I mentioned to you that the Doctor kept a cheetah and a +baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were locked.” + +“Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement.” + +“I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending misfortune +impressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, were twins, and you +know how subtle are the links which bind two souls which are so closely +allied. It was a wild night. The wind was howling outside, and the rain +was beating and splashing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the +hubbub of the gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified +woman. I knew that it was my sister’s voice. I sprang from my bed, +wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my +door I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and a +few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen. +As I ran down the passage, my sister’s door was unlocked, and revolved +slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing +what was about to issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I +saw my sister appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror, her +hands groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that +of a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that +moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. She +writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were dreadfully +convulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognised me, but as I +bent over her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall never +forget, ‘Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band! The speckled band!’ There +was something else which she would fain have said, and she stabbed with +her finger into the air in the direction of the Doctor’s room, but a +fresh convulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushed out, calling +loudly for my stepfather, and I met him hastening from his room in his +dressing-gown. When he reached my sister’s side she was unconscious, +and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent for medical aid +from the village, all efforts were in vain, for she slowly sank and +died without having recovered her consciousness. Such was the dreadful +end of my beloved sister.” + +“One moment,” said Holmes, “are you sure about this whistle and +metallic sound? Could you swear to it?” + +“That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is my +strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of the gale +and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have been deceived.” + +“Was your sister dressed?” + +“No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found the +charred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box.” + +“Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when the +alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did the +coroner come to?” + +“He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott’s conduct +had long been notorious in the county, but he was unable to find any +satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that the door had been +fastened upon the inner side, and the windows were blocked by +old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars, which were secured every +night. The walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to be quite +solid all round, and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, with +the same result. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four large +staples. It is certain, therefore, that my sister was quite alone when +she met her end. Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon +her.” + +“How about poison?” + +“The doctors examined her for it, but without success.” + +“What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?” + +“It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, though +what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine.” + +“Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time?” + +“Yes, there are nearly always some there.” + +“Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band—a speckled +band?” + +“Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of delirium, +sometimes that it may have referred to some band of people, perhaps to +these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not know whether the spotted +handkerchiefs which so many of them wear over their heads might have +suggested the strange adjective which she used.” + +Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied. + +“These are very deep waters,” said he; “pray go on with your +narrative.” + +“Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until lately +lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I have +known for many years, has done me the honour to ask my hand in +marriage. His name is Armitage—Percy Armitage—the second son of Mr. +Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My stepfather has offered no +opposition to the match, and we are to be married in the course of the +spring. Two days ago some repairs were started in the west wing of the +building, and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have had to +move into the chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very +bed in which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last +night, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I suddenly +heard in the silence of the night the low whistle which had been the +herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the lamp, but nothing was +to be seen in the room. I was too shaken to go to bed again, however, +so I dressed, and as soon as it was daylight I slipped down, got a +dog-cart at the Crown Inn, which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, +from whence I have come on this morning with the one object of seeing +you and asking your advice.” + +“You have done wisely,” said my friend. “But have you told me all?” + +“Yes, all.” + +“Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather.” + +“Why, what do you mean?” + +For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which fringed the +hand that lay upon our visitor’s knee. Five little livid spots, the +marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white wrist. + +“You have been cruelly used,” said Holmes. + +The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. “He is a +hard man,” she said, “and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength.” + +There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin upon his +hands and stared into the crackling fire. + +“This is a very deep business,” he said at last. “There are a thousand +details which I should desire to know before I decide upon our course +of action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If we were to come to +Stoke Moran to-day, would it be possible for us to see over these rooms +without the knowledge of your stepfather?” + +“As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some most +important business. It is probable that he will be away all day, and +that there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a housekeeper now, +but she is old and foolish, and I could easily get her out of the way.” + +“Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?” + +“By no means.” + +“Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?” + +“I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am in +town. But I shall return by the twelve o’clock train, so as to be there +in time for your coming.” + +“And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself some small +business matters to attend to. Will you not wait and breakfast?” + +“No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have confided my +trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you again this +afternoon.” She dropped her thick black veil over her face and glided +from the room. + +“And what do you think of it all, Watson?” asked Sherlock Holmes, +leaning back in his chair. + +“It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business.” + +“Dark enough and sinister enough.” + +“Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls are +sound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, then her +sister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her mysterious +end.” + +“What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the very +peculiar words of the dying woman?” + +“I cannot think.” + +“When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of a +band of gipsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, the +fact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor has an +interest in preventing his stepdaughter’s marriage, the dying allusion +to a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner heard a +metallic clang, which might have been caused by one of those metal bars +that secured the shutters falling back into its place, I think that +there is good ground to think that the mystery may be cleared along +those lines.” + +“But what, then, did the gipsies do?” + +“I cannot imagine.” + +“I see many objections to any such theory.” + +“And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going to +Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections are fatal, +or if they may be explained away. But what in the name of the devil!” + +The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that our +door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framed +himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of the +professional and of the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a long +frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in +his hand. So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross bar of +the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it across from side to +side. A large face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with +the sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the +other of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin, +fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce old bird +of prey. + +“Which of you is Holmes?” asked this apparition. + +“My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me,” said my companion +quietly. + +“I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran.” + +“Indeed, Doctor,” said Holmes blandly. “Pray take a seat.” + +“I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I have +traced her. What has she been saying to you?” + +“It is a little cold for the time of the year,” said Holmes. + +“What has she been saying to you?” screamed the old man furiously. + +“But I have heard that the crocuses promise well,” continued my +companion imperturbably. + +“Ha! You put me off, do you?” said our new visitor, taking a step +forward and shaking his hunting-crop. “I know you, you scoundrel! I +have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler.” + +My friend smiled. + +“Holmes, the busybody!” + +His smile broadened. + +“Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!” + +Holmes chuckled heartily. “Your conversation is most entertaining,” +said he. “When you go out close the door, for there is a decided +draught.” + +“I will go when I have had my say. Don’t you dare to meddle with my +affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a +dangerous man to fall foul of! See here.” He stepped swiftly forward, +seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands. + +“See that you keep yourself out of my grip,” he snarled, and hurling +the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room. + +“He seems a very amiable person,” said Holmes, laughing. “I am not +quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that my +grip was not much more feeble than his own.” As he spoke he picked up +the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, straightened it out again. + +“Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official +detective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation, +however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer from +her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, we +shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to Doctors’ +Commons, where I hope to get some data which may help us in this +matter.” + +It was nearly one o’clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from his +excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over +with notes and figures. + +“I have seen the will of the deceased wife,” said he. “To determine its +exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the present prices of the +investments with which it is concerned. The total income, which at the +time of the wife’s death was little short of £ 1,100, is now, through +the fall in agricultural prices, not more than £ 750. Each daughter can +claim an income of £ 250, in case of marriage. It is evident, +therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would have had a +mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him to a very +serious extent. My morning’s work has not been wasted, since it has +proved that he has the very strongest motives for standing in the way +of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, this is too serious for +dawdling, especially as the old man is aware that we are interesting +ourselves in his affairs; so if you are ready, we shall call a cab and +drive to Waterloo. I should be very much obliged if you would slip your +revolver into your pocket. An Eley’s No. 2 is an excellent argument +with gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into knots. That and a +tooth-brush are, I think, all that we need.” + +At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead, +where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five +miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a perfect day, with a +bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees and +wayside hedges were just throwing out their first green shoots, and the +air was full of the pleasant smell of the moist earth. To me at least +there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of the spring +and this sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in +the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over his +eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the deepest thought. +Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed +over the meadows. + +“Look there!” said he. + +A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening into +a grove at the highest point. From amid the branches there jutted out +the grey gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion. + +“Stoke Moran?” said he. + +“Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott,” remarked the +driver. + +“There is some building going on there,” said Holmes; “that is where we +are going.” + +“There’s the village,” said the driver, pointing to a cluster of roofs +some distance to the left; “but if you want to get to the house, you’ll +find it shorter to get over this stile, and so by the footpath over the +fields. There it is, where the lady is walking.” + +“And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner,” observed Holmes, shading his +eyes. “Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest.” + +We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way to +Leatherhead. + +“I thought it as well,” said Holmes as we climbed the stile, “that this +fellow should think we had come here as architects, or on some definite +business. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see +that we have been as good as our word.” + +Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a face +which spoke her joy. “I have been waiting so eagerly for you,” she +cried, shaking hands with us warmly. “All has turned out splendidly. +Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely that he will be back +before evening.” + +“We have had the pleasure of making the Doctor’s acquaintance,” said +Holmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had occurred. Miss +Stoner turned white to the lips as she listened. + +“Good heavens!” she cried, “he has followed me, then.” + +“So it appears.” + +“He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. What will +he say when he returns?” + +“He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someone more +cunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself up from him +to-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away to your aunt’s at +Harrow. Now, we must make the best use of our time, so kindly take us +at once to the rooms which we are to examine.” + +The building was of grey, lichen-blotched stone, with a high central +portion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, thrown out on +each side. In one of these wings the windows were broken and blocked +with wooden boards, while the roof was partly caved in, a picture of +ruin. The central portion was in little better repair, but the +right-hand block was comparatively modern, and the blinds in the +windows, with the blue smoke curling up from the chimneys, showed that +this was where the family resided. Some scaffolding had been erected +against the end wall, and the stone-work had been broken into, but +there were no signs of any workmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes +walked slowly up and down the ill-trimmed lawn and examined with deep +attention the outsides of the windows. + +“This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, the +centre one to your sister’s, and the one next to the main building to +Dr. Roylott’s chamber?” + +“Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one.” + +“Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there does not +seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end wall.” + +“There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from my +room.” + +“Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow wing +runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. There are windows +in it, of course?” + +“Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to pass through.” + +“As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms were unapproachable +from that side. Now, would you have the kindness to go into your room +and bar your shutters?” + +Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination through the +open window, endeavoured in every way to force the shutter open, but +without success. There was no slit through which a knife could be +passed to raise the bar. Then with his lens he tested the hinges, but +they were of solid iron, built firmly into the massive masonry. “Hum!” +said he, scratching his chin in some perplexity, “my theory certainly +presents some difficulties. No one could pass these shutters if they +were bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light upon the +matter.” + +A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which the +three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third chamber, so +we passed at once to the second, that in which Miss Stoner was now +sleeping, and in which her sister had met with her fate. It was a +homely little room, with a low ceiling and a gaping fireplace, after +the fashion of old country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stood in +one corner, a narrow white-counterpaned bed in another, and a +dressing-table on the left-hand side of the window. These articles, +with two small wicker-work chairs, made up all the furniture in the +room save for a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round +and the panelling of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, so old +and discoloured that it may have dated from the original building of +the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and sat silent, +while his eyes travelled round and round and up and down, taking in +every detail of the apartment. + +“Where does that bell communicate with?” he asked at last pointing to a +thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, the tassel actually +lying upon the pillow. + +“It goes to the housekeeper’s room.” + +“It looks newer than the other things?” + +“Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago.” + +“Your sister asked for it, I suppose?” + +“No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what we +wanted for ourselves.” + +“Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there. You +will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to this +floor.” He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in his hand +and crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining minutely the cracks +between the boards. Then he did the same with the wood-work with which +the chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the bed and spent +some time in staring at it and in running his eye up and down the wall. +Finally he took the bell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug. + +“Why, it’s a dummy,” said he. + +“Won’t it ring?” + +“No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. You +can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where the little +opening for the ventilator is.” + +“How very absurd! I never noticed that before.” + +“Very strange!” muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. “There are one or +two very singular points about this room. For example, what a fool a +builder must be to open a ventilator into another room, when, with the +same trouble, he might have communicated with the outside air!” + +“That is also quite modern,” said the lady. + +“Done about the same time as the bell-rope?” remarked Holmes. + +“Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that time.” + +“They seem to have been of a most interesting character—dummy +bell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your +permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into the +inner apartment.” + +Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s chamber was larger than that of his +step-daughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small wooden +shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an armchair +beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a round table, +and a large iron safe were the principal things which met the eye. +Holmes walked slowly round and examined each and all of them with the +keenest interest. + +“What’s in here?” he asked, tapping the safe. + +“My stepfather’s business papers.” + +“Oh! you have seen inside, then?” + +“Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of papers.” + +“There isn’t a cat in it, for example?” + +“No. What a strange idea!” + +“Well, look at this!” He took up a small saucer of milk which stood on +the top of it. + +“No; we don’t keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon.” + +“Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a +saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I daresay. +There is one point which I should wish to determine.” He squatted down +in front of the wooden chair and examined the seat of it with the +greatest attention. + +“Thank you. That is quite settled,” said he, rising and putting his +lens in his pocket. “Hullo! Here is something interesting!” + +The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on one +corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself and tied +so as to make a loop of whipcord. + +“What do you make of that, Watson?” + +“It’s a common enough lash. But I don’t know why it should be tied.” + +“That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it’s a wicked world, and +when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst of all. I +think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and with your +permission we shall walk out upon the lawn.” + +I had never seen my friend’s face so grim or his brow so dark as it was +when we turned from the scene of this investigation. We had walked +several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss Stoner nor myself +liking to break in upon his thoughts before he roused himself from his +reverie. + +“It is very essential, Miss Stoner,” said he, “that you should +absolutely follow my advice in every respect.” + +“I shall most certainly do so.” + +“The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may depend +upon your compliance.” + +“I assure you that I am in your hands.” + +“In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in your +room.” + +Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment. + +“Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the village +inn over there?” + +“Yes, that is the Crown.” + +“Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?” + +“Certainly.” + +“You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a headache, +when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him retire for the +night, you must open the shutters of your window, undo the hasp, put +your lamp there as a signal to us, and then withdraw quietly with +everything which you are likely to want into the room which you used to +occupy. I have no doubt that, in spite of the repairs, you could manage +there for one night.” + +“Oh, yes, easily.” + +“The rest you will leave in our hands.” + +“But what will you do?” + +“We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate the +cause of this noise which has disturbed you.” + +“I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind,” said +Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion’s sleeve. + +“Perhaps I have.” + +“Then, for pity’s sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister’s +death.” + +“I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak.” + +“You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and if she +died from some sudden fright.” + +“No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some more +tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you for if Dr. +Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain. Good-bye, and +be brave, for if you will do what I have told you, you may rest assured +that we shall soon drive away the dangers that threaten you.” + +Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom and +sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and from +our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and of the +inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr. Grimesby +Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside the little figure +of the lad who drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty in undoing +the heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the Doctor’s +voice and saw the fury with which he shook his clinched fists at him. +The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we saw a sudden light spring +up among the trees as the lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms. + +“Do you know, Watson,” said Holmes as we sat together in the gathering +darkness, “I have really some scruples as to taking you to-night. There +is a distinct element of danger.” + +“Can I be of assistance?” + +“Your presence might be invaluable.” + +“Then I shall certainly come.” + +“It is very kind of you.” + +“You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these rooms than +was visible to me.” + +“No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine that +you saw all that I did.” + +“I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose that +could answer I confess is more than I can imagine.” + +“You saw the ventilator, too?” + +“Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to have a +small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a rat could +hardly pass through.” + +“I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to Stoke +Moran.” + +“My dear Holmes!” + +“Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her sister +could smell Dr. Roylott’s cigar. Now, of course that suggested at once +that there must be a communication between the two rooms. It could only +be a small one, or it would have been remarked upon at the coroner’s +inquiry. I deduced a ventilator.” + +“But what harm can there be in that?” + +“Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A ventilator +is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed dies. Does +not that strike you?” + +“I cannot as yet see any connection.” + +“Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?” + +“No.” + +“It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened like that +before?” + +“I cannot say that I have.” + +“The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the same +relative position to the ventilator and to the rope—or so we may call +it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull.” + +“Holmes,” I cried, “I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. We are +only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible crime.” + +“Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong he is +the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer and +Pritchard were among the heads of their profession. This man strikes +even deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall be able to strike +deeper still. But we shall have horrors enough before the night is +over; for goodness’ sake let us have a quiet pipe and turn our minds +for a few hours to something more cheerful.” + +About nine o’clock the light among the trees was extinguished, and all +was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours passed slowly +away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a single bright +light shone out right in front of us. + +“That is our signal,” said Holmes, springing to his feet; “it comes +from the middle window.” + +As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord, explaining +that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, and that it was +possible that we might spend the night there. A moment later we were +out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and one yellow +light twinkling in front of us through the gloom to guide us on our +sombre errand. + +There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepaired +breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among the trees, we +reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enter through the +window when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted what seemed +to be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself upon the grass +with writhing limbs and then ran swiftly across the lawn into the +darkness. + +“My God!” I whispered; “did you see it?” + +Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a vice +upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and put +his lips to my ear. + +“It is a nice household,” he murmured. “That is the baboon.” + +I had forgotten the strange pets which the Doctor affected. There was a +cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at any +moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, after following +Holmes’ example and slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside the +bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed the shutters, moved the lamp +onto the table, and cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had +seen it in the daytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet of +his hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that it was all that +I could do to distinguish the words: + +“The least sound would be fatal to our plans.” + +I nodded to show that I had heard. + +“We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator.” + +I nodded again. + +“Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your pistol +ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the bed, and +you in that chair.” + +I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table. + +Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon the bed +beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of a candle. +Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left in darkness. + +How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a sound, +not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion sat +open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state of nervous +tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut off the least ray of +light, and we waited in absolute darkness. + +From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at our +very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that the cheetah +was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the deep tones of the +parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of an hour. How long they +seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and one and two and three, and +still we sat waiting silently for whatever might befall. + +Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the direction +of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was succeeded by a +strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone in the next room +had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle sound of movement, and then +all was silent once more, though the smell grew stronger. For half an +hour I sat with straining ears. Then suddenly another sound became +audible—a very gentle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet of +steam escaping continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, +Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with +his cane at the bell-pull. + +“You see it, Watson?” he yelled. “You see it?” + +But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I heard a +low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my weary eyes +made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which my friend lashed +so savagely. I could, however, see that his face was deadly pale and +filled with horror and loathing. He had ceased to strike and was gazing +up at the ventilator when suddenly there broke from the silence of the +night the most horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled +up louder and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all +mingled in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the +village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the +sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I stood +gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it had died +away into the silence from which it rose. + +“What can it mean?” I gasped. + +“It means that it is all over,” Holmes answered. “And perhaps, after +all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr. +Roylott’s room.” + +With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the corridor. +Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply from within. Then +he turned the handle and entered, I at his heels, with the cocked +pistol in my hand. + +It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a +dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beam of +light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. Beside this +table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott clad in a long +grey dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding beneath, and his feet +thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. Across his lap lay the short +stock with the long lash which we had noticed during the day. His chin +was cocked upward and his eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at +the corner of the ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow +band, with brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round +his head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion. + +“The band! the speckled band!” whispered Holmes. + +I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began to +move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat +diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent. + +“It is a swamp adder!” cried Holmes; “the deadliest snake in India. He +has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in truth, +recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he +digs for another. Let us thrust this creature back into its den, and we +can then remove Miss Stoner to some place of shelter and let the county +police know what has happened.” + +As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man’s lap, and +throwing the noose round the reptile’s neck he drew it from its horrid +perch and, carrying it at arm’s length, threw it into the iron safe, +which he closed upon it. + +Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke +Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a narrative which has +already run to too great a length by telling how we broke the sad news +to the terrified girl, how we conveyed her by the morning train to the +care of her good aunt at Harrow, of how the slow process of official +inquiry came to the conclusion that the doctor met his fate while +indiscreetly playing with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet +to learn of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled +back next day. + +“I had,” said he, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion which +shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from +insufficient data. The presence of the gipsies, and the use of the word +‘band,’ which was used by the poor girl, no doubt, to explain the +appearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of by the light of +her match, were sufficient to put me upon an entirely wrong scent. I +can only claim the merit that I instantly reconsidered my position +when, however, it became clear to me that whatever danger threatened an +occupant of the room could not come either from the window or the door. +My attention was speedily drawn, as I have already remarked to you, to +this ventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung down to the bed. The +discovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was clamped to the +floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope was there as +a bridge for something passing through the hole and coming to the bed. +The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, and when I coupled it +with my knowledge that the doctor was furnished with a supply of +creatures from India, I felt that I was probably on the right track. +The idea of using a form of poison which could not possibly be +discovered by any chemical test was just such a one as would occur to a +clever and ruthless man who had had an Eastern training. The rapidity +with which such a poison would take effect would also, from his point +of view, be an advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed coroner, indeed, who +could distinguish the two little dark punctures which would show where +the poison fangs had done their work. Then I thought of the whistle. Of +course he must recall the snake before the morning light revealed it to +the victim. He had trained it, probably by the use of the milk which we +saw, to return to him when summoned. He would put it through this +ventilator at the hour that he thought best, with the certainty that it +would crawl down the rope and land on the bed. It might or might not +bite the occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, but +sooner or later she must fall a victim. + +“I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his room. An +inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in the habit of +standing on it, which of course would be necessary in order that he +should reach the ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of milk, +and the loop of whipcord were enough to finally dispel any doubts which +may have remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss Stoner was +obviously caused by her stepfather hastily closing the door of his safe +upon its terrible occupant. Having once made up my mind, you know the +steps which I took in order to put the matter to the proof. I heard the +creature hiss as I have no doubt that you did also, and I instantly lit +the light and attacked it.” + +“With the result of driving it through the ventilator.” + +“And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master at the +other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home and roused its +snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In this +way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s +death, and I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon my +conscience.” + + + + +IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER’S THUMB + + +Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. +Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, there +were only two which I was the means of introducing to his notice—that +of Mr. Hatherley’s thumb, and that of Colonel Warburton’s madness. Of +these the latter may have afforded a finer field for an acute and +original observer, but the other was so strange in its inception and so +dramatic in its details that it may be the more worthy of being placed +upon record, even if it gave my friend fewer openings for those +deductive methods of reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable +results. The story has, I believe, been told more than once in the +newspapers, but, like all such narratives, its effect is much less +striking when set forth _en bloc_ in a single half-column of print than +when the facts slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery +clears gradually away as each new discovery furnishes a step which +leads on to the complete truth. At the time the circumstances made a +deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two years has hardly served +to weaken the effect. + +It was in the summer of ’89, not long after my marriage, that the +events occurred which I am now about to summarise. I had returned to +civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker Street +rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally even +persuaded him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come and visit +us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to live at no +very great distance from Paddington Station, I got a few patients from +among the officials. One of these, whom I had cured of a painful and +lingering disease, was never weary of advertising my virtues and of +endeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he might have any +influence. + +One morning, at a little before seven o’clock, I was awakened by the +maid tapping at the door to announce that two men had come from +Paddington and were waiting in the consulting-room. I dressed +hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom +trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my old ally, the +guard, came out of the room and closed the door tightly behind him. + +“I’ve got him here,” he whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder; +“he’s all right.” + +“What is it, then?” I asked, for his manner suggested that it was some +strange creature which he had caged up in my room. + +“It’s a new patient,” he whispered. “I thought I’d bring him round +myself; then he couldn’t slip away. There he is, all safe and sound. I +must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties, just the same as you.” And off +he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank him. + +I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the table. +He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft cloth cap +which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of his hands he had a +handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all over with bloodstains. He +was young, not more than five-and-twenty, I should say, with a strong, +masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression +of a man who was suffering from some strong agitation, which it took +all his strength of mind to control. + +“I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor,” said he, “but I have had +a very serious accident during the night. I came in by train this +morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might find a +doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here. I gave the maid a +card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table.” + +I took it up and glanced at it. “Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic +engineer, 16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor).” That was the name, style, +and abode of my morning visitor. “I regret that I have kept you +waiting,” said I, sitting down in my library-chair. “You are fresh from +a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a monotonous +occupation.” + +“Oh, my night could not be called monotonous,” said he, and laughed. He +laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his +chair and shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up against +that laugh. + +“Stop it!” I cried; “pull yourself together!” and I poured out some +water from a caraffe. + +It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical +outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis is +over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very weary and +pale-looking. + +“I have been making a fool of myself,” he gasped. + +“Not at all. Drink this.” I dashed some brandy into the water, and the +colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks. + +“That’s better!” said he. “And now, Doctor, perhaps you would kindly +attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb used to be.” + +He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even my +hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four protruding +fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb should have +been. It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots. + +“Good heavens!” I cried, “this is a terrible injury. It must have bled +considerably.” + +“Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must have +been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that it was +still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very tightly round +the wrist and braced it up with a twig.” + +“Excellent! You should have been a surgeon.” + +“It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own +province.” + +“This has been done,” said I, examining the wound, “by a very heavy and +sharp instrument.” + +“A thing like a cleaver,” said he. + +“An accident, I presume?” + +“By no means.” + +“What! a murderous attack?” + +“Very murderous indeed.” + +“You horrify me.” + +I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it +over with cotton wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back without +wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time. + +“How is that?” I asked when I had finished. + +“Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. I was +very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through.” + +“Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently trying +to your nerves.” + +“Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but, +between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing evidence of this +wound of mine, I should be surprised if they believed my statement, for +it is a very extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof +with which to back it up; and, even if they believe me, the clues which +I can give them are so vague that it is a question whether justice will +be done.” + +“Ha!” cried I, “if it is anything in the nature of a problem which you +desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to my +friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the official police.” + +“Oh, I have heard of that fellow,” answered my visitor, “and I should +be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of course I must +use the official police as well. Would you give me an introduction to +him?” + +“I’ll do better. I’ll take you round to him myself.” + +“I should be immensely obliged to you.” + +“We’ll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to have a +little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?” + +“Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story.” + +“Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an +instant.” I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my wife, +and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my new +acquaintance to Baker Street. + +Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in +his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of _The Times_ and smoking +his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed of all the plugs and +dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried and +collected on the corner of the mantelpiece. He received us in his +quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us +in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance +upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of +brandy and water within his reach. + +“It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr. +Hatherley,” said he. “Pray, lie down there and make yourself absolutely +at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep up +your strength with a little stimulant.” + +“Thank you,” said my patient, “but I have felt another man since the +doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the +cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I +shall start at once upon my peculiar experiences.” + +Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression +which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him, +and we listened in silence to the strange story which our visitor +detailed to us. + +“You must know,” said he, “that I am an orphan and a bachelor, residing +alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a hydraulic engineer, +and I have had considerable experience of my work during the seven +years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-known firm, +of Greenwich. Two years ago, having served my time, and having also +come into a fair sum of money through my poor father’s death, I +determined to start in business for myself and took professional +chambers in Victoria Street. + +“I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in business +a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. During two +years I have had three consultations and one small job, and that is +absolutely all that my profession has brought me. My gross takings +amount to £ 27 10_s_. Every day, from nine in the morning until four in +the afternoon, I waited in my little den, until at last my heart began +to sink, and I came to believe that I should never have any practice at +all. + +“Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my +clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see me +upon business. He brought up a card, too, with the name of ‘Colonel +Lysander Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at his heels came the colonel +himself, a man rather over the middle size, but of an exceeding +thinness. I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man. His whole +face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was +drawn quite tense over his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation +seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was +bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but +neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than +thirty. + +“‘Mr. Hatherley?’ said he, with something of a German accent. ‘You have +been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not only +proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable of +preserving a secret.’ + +“I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an +address. ‘May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?’ + +“‘Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at +this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan +and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.’ + +“‘That is quite correct,’ I answered; ‘but you will excuse me if I say +that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional +qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter that +you wished to speak to me?’ + +“‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to the +point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy +is quite essential—absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course we +may expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who lives in +the bosom of his family.’ + +“‘If I promise to keep a secret,’ said I, ‘you may absolutely depend +upon my doing so.’ + +“He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had +never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye. + +“‘Do you promise, then?’ said he at last. + +“‘Yes, I promise.’ + +“‘Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No reference +to the matter at all, either in word or writing?’ + +“‘I have already given you my word.’ + +“‘Very good.’ He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning across +the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was empty. + +“‘That’s all right,’ said he, coming back. ‘I know that clerks are +sometimes curious as to their master’s affairs. Now we can talk in +safety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare at +me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look. + +“A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun to +rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. Even my +dread of losing a client could not restrain me from showing my +impatience. + +“‘I beg that you will state your business, sir,’ said I; ‘my time is of +value.’ Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the words came to +my lips. + +“‘How would fifty guineas for a night’s work suit you?’ he asked. + +“‘Most admirably.’ + +“‘I say a night’s work, but an hour’s would be nearer the mark. I +simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which has +got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon set it +right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as that?’ + +“‘The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.’ + +“‘Precisely so. We shall want you to come to-night by the last train.’ + +“‘Where to?’ + +“‘To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders of +Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a train from +Paddington which would bring you there at about 11:15.’ + +“‘Very good.’ + +“‘I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.’ + +“‘There is a drive, then?’ + +“‘Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good seven +miles from Eyford Station.’ + +“‘Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there would +be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop the night.’ + +“‘Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.’ + +“‘That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient hour?’ + +“‘We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to recompense +you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a young and +unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very heads of +your profession. Still, of course, if you would like to draw out of the +business, there is plenty of time to do so.’ + +“I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they would be +to me. ‘Not at all,’ said I, ‘I shall be very happy to accommodate +myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to understand a little +more clearly what it is that you wish me to do.’ + +“‘Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which we have +exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I have no wish to +commit you to anything without your having it all laid before you. I +suppose that we are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers?’ + +“‘Entirely.’ + +“‘Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that +fuller’s-earth is a valuable product, and that it is only found in one +or two places in England?’ + +“‘I have heard so.’ + +“‘Some little time ago I bought a small place—a very small place—within +ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to discover that there was +a deposit of fuller’s-earth in one of my fields. On examining it, +however, I found that this deposit was a comparatively small one, and +that it formed a link between two very much larger ones upon the right +and left—both of them, however, in the grounds of my neighbours. These +good people were absolutely ignorant that their land contained that +which was quite as valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally, it was to my +interest to buy their land before they discovered its true value, but +unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this. I took a few +of my friends into the secret, however, and they suggested that we +should quietly and secretly work our own little deposit and that in +this way we should earn the money which would enable us to buy the +neighbouring fields. This we have now been doing for some time, and in +order to help us in our operations we erected a hydraulic press. This +press, as I have already explained, has got out of order, and we wish +your advice upon the subject. We guard our secret very jealously, +however, and if it once became known that we had hydraulic engineers +coming to our little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if +the facts came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting these +fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you promise +me that you will not tell a human being that you are going to Eyford +to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?’ + +“‘I quite follow you,’ said I. ‘The only point which I could not quite +understand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press in +excavating fuller’s-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out like +gravel from a pit.’ + +“‘Ah!’ said he carelessly, ‘we have our own process. We compress the +earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what they +are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my +confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I trust you.’ +He rose as he spoke. ‘I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at 11:15.’ + +“‘I shall certainly be there.’ + +“‘And not a word to a soul.’ He looked at me with a last long, +questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank grasp, he +hurried from the room. + +“Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very much +astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission which had +been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was glad, for the +fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked had I set a price +upon my own services, and it was possible that this order might lead to +other ones. On the other hand, the face and manner of my patron had +made an unpleasant impression upon me, and I could not think that his +explanation of the fuller’s-earth was sufficient to explain the +necessity for my coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I +should tell anyone of my errand. However, I threw all fears to the +winds, ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and started off, +having obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my tongue. + +“At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station. +However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I reached the +little dim-lit station after eleven o’clock. I was the only passenger +who got out there, and there was no one upon the platform save a single +sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed out through the wicket gate, +however, I found my acquaintance of the morning waiting in the shadow +upon the other side. Without a word he grasped my arm and hurried me +into a carriage, the door of which was standing open. He drew up the +windows on either side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we went as +fast as the horse could go.” + +“One horse?” interjected Holmes. + +“Yes, only one.” + +“Did you observe the colour?” + +“Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was stepping into the +carriage. It was a chestnut.” + +“Tired-looking or fresh?” + +“Oh, fresh and glossy.” + +“Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue your most +interesting statement.” + +“Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel Lysander +Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should think, from +the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that it +must have been nearer twelve. He sat at my side in silence all the +time, and I was aware, more than once when I glanced in his direction, +that he was looking at me with great intensity. The country roads seem +to be not very good in that part of the world, for we lurched and +jolted terribly. I tried to look out of the windows to see something of +where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make +out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now and +then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, but +the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation soon +flagged. At last, however, the bumping of the road was exchanged for +the crisp smoothness of a gravel-drive, and the carriage came to a +stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang out, and, as I followed after him, +pulled me swiftly into a porch which gaped in front of us. We stepped, +as it were, right out of the carriage and into the hall, so that I +failed to catch the most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The +instant that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily +behind us, and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage +drove away. + +“It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about +looking for matches and muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door +opened at the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of light +shot out in our direction. It grew broader, and a woman appeared with a +lamp in her hand, which she held above her head, pushing her face +forward and peering at us. I could see that she was pretty, and from +the gloss with which the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that it +was a rich material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a +tone as though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a +gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly fell from +her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered something in her ear, +and then, pushing her back into the room from whence she had come, he +walked towards me again with the lamp in his hand. + +“‘Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a few +minutes,’ said he, throwing open another door. It was a quiet, little, +plainly furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on which +several German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down the lamp +on the top of a harmonium beside the door. ‘I shall not keep you +waiting an instant,’ said he, and vanished into the darkness. + +“I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance of +German I could see that two of them were treatises on science, the +others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked across to the window, +hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the country-side, but an oak +shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it. It was a wonderfully +silent house. There was an old clock ticking loudly somewhere in the +passage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of +uneasiness began to steal over me. Who were these German people, and +what were they doing living in this strange, out-of-the-way place? And +where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was all I +knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no idea. For that +matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, were within that +radius, so the place might not be so secluded, after all. Yet it was +quite certain, from the absolute stillness, that we were in the +country. I paced up and down the room, humming a tune under my breath +to keep up my spirits and feeling that I was thoroughly earning my +fifty-guinea fee. + +“Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the utter +stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman was +standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind her, the +yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and beautiful face. I +could see at a glance that she was sick with fear, and the sight sent a +chill to my own heart. She held up one shaking finger to warn me to be +silent, and she shot a few whispered words of broken English at me, her +eyes glancing back, like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom +behind her. + +“‘I would go,’ said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to speak +calmly; ‘I would go. I should not stay here. There is no good for you +to do.’ + +“‘But, madam,’ said I, ‘I have not yet done what I came for. I cannot +possibly leave until I have seen the machine.’ + +“‘It is not worth your while to wait,’ she went on. ‘You can pass +through the door; no one hinders.’ And then, seeing that I smiled and +shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and made a step +forward, with her hands wrung together. ‘For the love of Heaven!’ she +whispered, ‘get away from here before it is too late!’ + +“But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to engage +in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I thought of my +fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of the unpleasant night +which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why should +I slink away without having carried out my commission, and without the +payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a +monomaniac. With a stout bearing, therefore, though her manner had +shaken me more than I cared to confess, I still shook my head and +declared my intention of remaining where I was. She was about to renew +her entreaties when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several +footsteps was heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw +up her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and as +noiselessly as she had come. + +“The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man with a +chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, who was +introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson. + +“‘This is my secretary and manager,’ said the colonel. ‘By the way, I +was under the impression that I left this door shut just now. I fear +that you have felt the draught.’ + +“‘On the contrary,’ said I, ‘I opened the door myself because I felt +the room to be a little close.’ + +“He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. ‘Perhaps we had better +proceed to business, then,’ said he. ‘Mr. Ferguson and I will take you +up to see the machine.’ + +“‘I had better put my hat on, I suppose.’ + +“‘Oh, no, it is in the house.’ + +“‘What, you dig fuller’s-earth in the house?’ + +“‘No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. All +we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us know what is +wrong with it.’ + +“We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the fat +manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, with +corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little low doors, +the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the generations who had +crossed them. There were no carpets and no signs of any furniture above +the ground floor, while the plaster was peeling off the walls, and the +damp was breaking through in green, unhealthy blotches. I tried to put +on as unconcerned an air as possible, but I had not forgotten the +warnings of the lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen +eye upon my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent +man, but I could see from the little that he said that he was at least +a fellow-countryman. + +“Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which he +unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three of us +could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside, and the +colonel ushered me in. + +“‘We are now,’ said he, ‘actually within the hydraulic press, and it +would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were to turn +it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the end of the +descending piston, and it comes down with the force of many tons upon +this metal floor. There are small lateral columns of water outside +which receive the force, and which transmit and multiply it in the +manner which is familiar to you. The machine goes readily enough, but +there is some stiffness in the working of it, and it has lost a little +of its force. Perhaps you will have the goodness to look it over and to +show us how we can set it right.’ + +“I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very thoroughly. +It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of exercising enormous +pressure. When I passed outside, however, and pressed down the levers +which controlled it, I knew at once by the whishing sound that there +was a slight leakage, which allowed a regurgitation of water through +one of the side cylinders. An examination showed that one of the +india-rubber bands which was round the head of a driving-rod had shrunk +so as not quite to fill the socket along which it worked. This was +clearly the cause of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my +companions, who followed my remarks very carefully and asked several +practical questions as to how they should proceed to set it right. When +I had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the +machine and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity. It was +obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller’s-earth was the merest +fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose that so powerful an +engine could be designed for so inadequate a purpose. The walls were of +wood, but the floor consisted of a large iron trough, and when I came +to examine it I could see a crust of metallic deposit all over it. I +had stooped and was scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I +heard a muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of +the colonel looking down at me. + +“‘What are you doing there?’ he asked. + +“I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as that +which he had told me. ‘I was admiring your fuller’s-earth,’ said I; ‘I +think that I should be better able to advise you as to your machine if +I knew what the exact purpose was for which it was used.’ + +“The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of my +speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in his grey +eyes. + +“‘Very well,’ said he, ‘you shall know all about the machine.’ He took +a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key in the +lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it was quite +secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and shoves. ‘Hullo!’ +I yelled. ‘Hullo! Colonel! Let me out!’ + +“And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my heart +into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish of the +leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp still stood +upon the floor where I had placed it when examining the trough. By its +light I saw that the black ceiling was coming down upon me, slowly, +jerkily, but, as none knew better than myself, with a force which must +within a minute grind me to a shapeless pulp. I threw myself, +screaming, against the door, and dragged with my nails at the lock. I +implored the colonel to let me out, but the remorseless clanking of the +levers drowned my cries. The ceiling was only a foot or two above my +head, and with my hand upraised I could feel its hard, rough surface. +Then it flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend +very much upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on my face the +weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to think of that +dreadful snap. Easier the other way, perhaps; and yet, had I the nerve +to lie and look up at that deadly black shadow wavering down upon me? +Already I was unable to stand erect, when my eye caught something which +brought a gush of hope back to my heart. + +“I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the walls +were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw a thin line +of yellow light between two of the boards, which broadened and +broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For an instant I could +hardly believe that here was indeed a door which led away from death. +The next instant I threw myself through, and lay half-fainting upon the +other side. The panel had closed again behind me, but the crash of the +lamp, and a few moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, +told me how narrow had been my escape. + +“I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and I +found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, while a +woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand, while she held +a candle in her right. It was the same good friend whose warning I had +so foolishly rejected. + +“‘Come! come!’ she cried breathlessly. ‘They will be here in a moment. +They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste the so-precious +time, but come!’ + +“This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to my +feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding stair. The +latter led to another broad passage, and just as we reached it we heard +the sound of running feet and the shouting of two voices, one answering +the other from the floor on which we were and from the one beneath. My +guide stopped and looked about her like one who is at her wit’s end. +Then she threw open a door which led into a bedroom, through the window +of which the moon was shining brightly. + +“‘It is your only chance,’ said she. ‘It is high, but it may be that +you can jump it.’ + +“As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the +passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark rushing +forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a butcher’s +cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom, flung open the +window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and wholesome the garden +looked in the moonlight, and it could not be more than thirty feet +down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I hesitated to jump until I +should have heard what passed between my saviour and the ruffian who +pursued me. If she were ill-used, then at any risks I was determined to +go back to her assistance. The thought had hardly flashed through my +mind before he was at the door, pushing his way past her; but she threw +her arms round him and tried to hold him back. + +“‘Fritz! Fritz!’ she cried in English, ‘remember your promise after the +last time. You said it should not be again. He will be silent! Oh, he +will be silent!’ + +“‘You are mad, Elise!’ he shouted, struggling to break away from her. +‘You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me pass, I say!’ +He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the window, cut at me with +his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and was hanging by the hands to +the sill, when his blow fell. I was conscious of a dull pain, my grip +loosened, and I fell into the garden below. + +“I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and +rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I understood +that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly, however, as I +ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me. I glanced down at my +hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then, for the first time, saw +that my thumb had been cut off and that the blood was pouring from my +wound. I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief round it, but there came a +sudden buzzing in my ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among +the rose-bushes. + +“How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been a +very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was +breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with dew, +and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded thumb. The +smarting of it recalled in an instant all the particulars of my night’s +adventure, and I sprang to my feet with the feeling that I might hardly +yet be safe from my pursuers. But to my astonishment, when I came to +look round me, neither house nor garden were to be seen. I had been +lying in an angle of the hedge close by the high road, and just a little +lower down was a long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, +to be the very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night. +Were it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed during +those dreadful hours might have been an evil dream. + +“Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning train. +There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The same porter was +on duty, I found, as had been there when I arrived. I inquired of him +whether he had ever heard of Colonel Lysander Stark. The name was +strange to him. Had he observed a carriage the night before waiting for +me? No, he had not. Was there a police-station anywhere near? There was +one about three miles off. + +“It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined to +wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the police. It +was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first to have my wound +dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to bring me along here. I +put the case into your hands and shall do exactly what you advise.” + +We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to this +extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down from the +shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he placed his +cuttings. + +“Here is an advertisement which will interest you,” said he. “It +appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this: ‘Lost, on +the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a hydraulic +engineer. Left his lodgings at ten o’clock at night, and has not been +heard of since. Was dressed in,’ etc., etc. Ha! That represents the +last time that the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I +fancy.” + +“Good heavens!” cried my patient. “Then that explains what the girl +said.” + +“Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and +desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should stand +in the way of his little game, like those out-and-out pirates who will +leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well, every moment now is +precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall go down to Scotland Yard +at once as a preliminary to starting for Eyford.” + +Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train together, +bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. There were Sherlock +Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, +a plain-clothes man, and myself. Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map +of the county out upon the seat and was busy with his compasses drawing +a circle with Eyford for its centre. + +“There you are,” said he. “That circle is drawn at a radius of ten +miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere near that +line. You said ten miles, I think, sir.” + +“It was an hour’s good drive.” + +“And you think that they brought you back all that way when you were +unconscious?” + +“They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having been +lifted and conveyed somewhere.” + +“What I cannot understand,” said I, “is why they should have spared you +when they found you lying fainting in the garden. Perhaps the villain +was softened by the woman’s entreaties.” + +“I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face in my +life.” + +“Oh, we shall soon clear up all that,” said Bradstreet. “Well, I have +drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk +that we are in search of are to be found.” + +“I think I could lay my finger on it,” said Holmes quietly. + +“Really, now!” cried the inspector, “you have formed your opinion! +Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is south, for the +country is more deserted there.” + +“And I say east,” said my patient. + +“I am for west,” remarked the plain-clothes man. “There are several +quiet little villages up there.” + +“And I am for north,” said I, “because there are no hills there, and +our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up any.” + +“Come,” cried the inspector, laughing; “it’s a very pretty diversity of +opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do you give your +casting vote to?” + +“You are all wrong.” + +“But we can’t all be.” + +“Oh, yes, you can. This is my point.” He placed his finger in the +centre of the circle. “This is where we shall find them.” + +“But the twelve-mile drive?” gasped Hatherley. + +“Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the horse +was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that if it had +gone twelve miles over heavy roads?” + +“Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough,” observed Bradstreet thoughtfully. +“Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature of this gang.” + +“None at all,” said Holmes. “They are coiners on a large scale, and +have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the place of +silver.” + +“We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work,” said the +inspector. “They have been turning out half-crowns by the thousand. We +even traced them as far as Reading, but could get no farther, for they +had covered their traces in a way that showed that they were very old +hands. But now, thanks to this lucky chance, I think that we have got +them right enough.” + +But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not destined +to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into Eyford Station we +saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed up from behind a small +clump of trees in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense ostrich +feather over the landscape. + +“A house on fire?” asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off again on +its way. + +“Yes, sir!” said the station-master. + +“When did it break out?” + +“I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, and +the whole place is in a blaze.” + +“Whose house is it?” + +“Dr. Becher’s.” + +“Tell me,” broke in the engineer, “is Dr. Becher a German, very thin, +with a long, sharp nose?” + +The station-master laughed heartily. “No, sir, Dr. Becher is an +Englishman, and there isn’t a man in the parish who has a better-lined +waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him, a patient, as I +understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as if a little good +Berkshire beef would do him no harm.” + +The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all +hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low hill, and +there was a great widespread whitewashed building in front of us, +spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in front +three fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under. + +“That’s it!” cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. “There is the +gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That second +window is the one that I jumped from.” + +“Well, at least,” said Holmes, “you have had your revenge upon them. +There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was +crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubt +they were too excited in the chase after you to observe it at the time. +Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your friends of last night, +though I very much fear that they are a good hundred miles off by now.” + +And Holmes’ fears came to be realised, for from that day to this no +word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the sinister +German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a peasant had met +a cart containing several people and some very bulky boxes driving +rapidly in the direction of Reading, but there all traces of the +fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes’ ingenuity failed ever to +discover the least clue as to their whereabouts. + +The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements which +they had found within, and still more so by discovering a newly severed +human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor. About sunset, +however, their efforts were at last successful, and they subdued the +flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, and the whole place been +reduced to such absolute ruin that, save some twisted cylinders and +iron piping, not a trace remained of the machinery which had cost our +unfortunate acquaintance so dearly. Large masses of nickel and of tin +were discovered stored in an out-house, but no coins were to be found, +which may have explained the presence of those bulky boxes which have +been already referred to. + +How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to the +spot where he recovered his senses might have remained forever a +mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a very plain +tale. He had evidently been carried down by two persons, one of whom +had remarkably small feet and the other unusually large ones. On the +whole, it was most probable that the silent Englishman, being less bold +or less murderous than his companion, had assisted the woman to bear +the unconscious man out of the way of danger. + +“Well,” said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return once +more to London, “it has been a pretty business for me! I have lost my +thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I gained?” + +“Experience,” said Holmes, laughing. “Indirectly it may be of value, +you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation of +being excellent company for the remainder of your existence.” + + + + +X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR + + +The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have long +ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles in which +the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have eclipsed it, and +their more piquant details have drawn the gossips away from this +four-year-old drama. As I have reason to believe, however, that the +full facts have never been revealed to the general public, and as my +friend Sherlock Holmes had a considerable share in clearing the matter +up, I feel that no memoir of him would be complete without some little +sketch of this remarkable episode. + +It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I was +still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came home from +an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table waiting for him. I +had remained indoors all day, for the weather had taken a sudden turn +to rain, with high autumnal winds, and the jezail bullet which I had +brought back in one of my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign +throbbed with dull persistence. With my body in one easy-chair and my +legs upon another, I had surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers +until at last, saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all +aside and lay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon the +envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend’s noble +correspondent could be. + +“Here is a very fashionable epistle,” I remarked as he entered. “Your +morning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a +tide-waiter.” + +“Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety,” he +answered, smiling, “and the humbler are usually the more interesting. +This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which call upon +a man either to be bored or to lie.” + +He broke the seal and glanced over the contents. + +“Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all.” + +“Not social, then?” + +“No, distinctly professional.” + +“And from a noble client?” + +“One of the highest in England.” + +“My dear fellow, I congratulate you.” + +“I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my +client is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his case. +It is just possible, however, that that also may not be wanting in this +new investigation. You have been reading the papers diligently of late, +have you not?” + +“It looks like it,” said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in the +corner. “I have had nothing else to do.” + +“It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I read +nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The latter is +always instructive. But if you have followed recent events so closely +you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his wedding?” + +“Oh, yes, with the deepest interest.” + +“That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord St. +Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn over these +papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter. This is what he +says: + + “‘MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES,—Lord Backwater tells me that I may + place implicit reliance upon your judgment and discretion. I have + determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult you in + reference to the very painful event which has occurred in + connection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is + acting already in the matter, but he assures me that he sees no + objection to your co-operation, and that he even thinks that it + might be of some assistance. I will call at four o’clock in the + afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at that time, + I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of paramount + importance. Yours faithfully, + + + “‘ROBERT ST. SIMON.’ + + +“It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, and the +noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the outer +side of his right little finger,” remarked Holmes as he folded up the +epistle. + +“He says four o’clock. It is three now. He will be here in an hour.” + +“Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon the +subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in their order +of time, while I take a glance as to who our client is.” He picked a +red-covered volume from a line of books of reference beside the +mantelpiece. “Here he is,” said he, sitting down and flattening it out +upon his knee. “‘Lord Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, second son +of the Duke of Balmoral.’ Hum! ‘Arms: Azure, three caltrops in chief +over a fess sable. Born in 1846.’ He’s forty-one years of age, which is +mature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for the colonies in a late +administration. The Duke, his father, was at one time Secretary for +Foreign Affairs. They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and +Tudor on the distaff side. Ha! Well, there is nothing very instructive +in all this. I think that I must turn to you Watson, for something more +solid.” + +“I have very little difficulty in finding what I want,” said I, “for +the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as remarkable. I +feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew that you had an inquiry +on hand and that you disliked the intrusion of other matters.” + +“Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square furniture van. +That is quite cleared up now—though, indeed, it was obvious from the +first. Pray give me the results of your newspaper selections.” + +“Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal +column of the _Morning Post_, and dates, as you see, some weeks back: +‘A marriage has been arranged,’ it says, ‘and will, if rumour is +correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert St. Simon, second +son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, the only daughter of +Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.’ That is all.” + +“Terse and to the point,” remarked Holmes, stretching his long, thin +legs towards the fire. + +“There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society papers of +the same week. Ah, here it is: ‘There will soon be a call for +protection in the marriage market, for the present free-trade +principle appears to tell heavily against our home product. One by one +the management of the noble houses of Great Britain is passing into the +hands of our fair cousins from across the Atlantic. An important +addition has been made during the last week to the list of the prizes +which have been borne away by these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, +who has shown himself for over twenty years proof against the little +god’s arrows, has now definitely announced his approaching marriage +with Miss Hatty Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California +millionaire. Miss Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face +attracted much attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only +child, and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to +considerably over the six figures, with expectancies for the future. As +it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to +sell his pictures within the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has +no property of his own save the small estate of Birchmoor, it is +obvious that the Californian heiress is not the only gainer by an +alliance which will enable her to make the easy and common transition +from a Republican lady to a British peeress.’” + +“Anything else?” asked Holmes, yawning. + +“Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the _Morning Post_ to +say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it would +be at St. George’s, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen intimate +friends would be invited, and that the party would return to the +furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has been taken by Mr. Aloysius +Doran. Two days later—that is, on Wednesday last—there is a curt +announcement that the wedding had taken place, and that the honeymoon +would be passed at Lord Backwater’s place, near Petersfield. Those are +all the notices which appeared before the disappearance of the bride.” + +“Before the what?” asked Holmes with a start. + +“The vanishing of the lady.” + +“When did she vanish, then?” + +“At the wedding breakfast.” + +“Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite +dramatic, in fact.” + +“Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common.” + +“They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during the +honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt as this. +Pray let me have the details.” + +“I warn you that they are very incomplete.” + +“Perhaps we may make them less so.” + +“Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a morning +paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is headed, ‘Singular +Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding’: + +“‘The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the greatest +consternation by the strange and painful episodes which have taken +place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, as shortly +announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the previous morning; +but it is only now that it has been possible to confirm the strange +rumours which have been so persistently floating about. In spite of the +attempts of the friends to hush the matter up, so much public attention +has now been drawn to it that no good purpose can be served by +affecting to disregard what is a common subject for conversation. + +“‘The ceremony, which was performed at St. George’s, Hanover Square, +was a very quiet one, no one being present save the father of the +bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, Lord Backwater, +Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the younger brother and sister +of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington. The whole party +proceeded afterwards to the house of Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster +Gate, where breakfast had been prepared. It appears that some little +trouble was caused by a woman, whose name has not been ascertained, who +endeavoured to force her way into the house after the bridal party, +alleging that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after +a painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butler and +the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the house before +this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast with the rest, +when she complained of a sudden indisposition and retired to her room. +Her prolonged absence having caused some comment, her father followed +her, but learned from her maid that she had only come up to her chamber +for an instant, caught up an ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the +passage. One of the footmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the +house thus apparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his +mistress, believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that +his daughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction with +the bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communication with the +police, and very energetic inquiries are being made, which will +probably result in a speedy clearing up of this very singular business. +Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing had transpired as to the +whereabouts of the missing lady. There are rumours of foul play in the +matter, and it is said that the police have caused the arrest of the +woman who had caused the original disturbance, in the belief that, from +jealousy or some other motive, she may have been concerned in the +strange disappearance of the bride.’” + +“And is that all?” + +“Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is a +suggestive one.” + +“And it is—” + +“That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, has +actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a _danseuse_ +at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom for some years. +There are no further particulars, and the whole case is in your hands +now—so far as it has been set forth in the public press.” + +“And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would not have +missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson, and as +the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt that this +will prove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going, Watson, for I +very much prefer having a witness, if only as a check to my own +memory.” + +“Lord Robert St. Simon,” announced our page-boy, throwing open the +door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, high-nosed +and pale, with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, and with +the steady, well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it had ever +been to command and to be obeyed. His manner was brisk, and yet his +general appearance gave an undue impression of age, for he had a slight +forward stoop and a little bend of the knees as he walked. His hair, +too, as he swept off his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled round the +edges and thin upon the top. As to his dress, it was careful to the +verge of foppishness, with high collar, black frock-coat, white +waistcoat, yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and light-coloured +gaiters. He advanced slowly into the room, turning his head from left +to right, and swinging in his right hand the cord which held his golden +eyeglasses. + +“Good-day, Lord St. Simon,” said Holmes, rising and bowing. “Pray take +the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. Draw up +a little to the fire, and we will talk this matter over.” + +“A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, Mr. +Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you have +already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I +presume that they were hardly from the same class of society.” + +“No, I am descending.” + +“I beg pardon.” + +“My last client of the sort was a king.” + +“Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?” + +“The King of Scandinavia.” + +“What! Had he lost his wife?” + +“You can understand,” said Holmes suavely, “that I extend to the +affairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to you in +yours.” + +“Of course! Very right! very right! I’m sure I beg pardon. As to my own +case, I am ready to give you any information which may assist you in +forming an opinion.” + +“Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public prints, +nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct—this article, for +example, as to the disappearance of the bride.” + +Lord St. Simon glanced over it. “Yes, it is correct, as far as it +goes.” + +“But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could offer +an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most directly by +questioning you.” + +“Pray do so.” + +“When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?” + +“In San Francisco, a year ago.” + +“You were travelling in the States?” + +“Yes.” + +“Did you become engaged then?” + +“No.” + +“But you were on a friendly footing?” + +“I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was amused.” + +“Her father is very rich?” + +“He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope.” + +“And how did he make his money?” + +“In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold, +invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds.” + +“Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady’s—your wife’s +character?” + +The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down into the +fire. “You see, Mr. Holmes,” said he, “my wife was twenty before her +father became a rich man. During that time she ran free in a mining +camp and wandered through woods or mountains, so that her education has +come from Nature rather than from the schoolmaster. She is what we call +in England a tomboy, with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered by +any sort of traditions. She is impetuous—volcanic, I was about to say. +She is swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out her +resolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her the name +which I have the honour to bear”—he gave a little stately cough—“had I +not thought her to be at bottom a noble woman. I believe that she is +capable of heroic self-sacrifice and that anything dishonourable would +be repugnant to her.” + +“Have you her photograph?” + +“I brought this with me.” He opened a locket and showed us the full +face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an ivory +miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effect of the +lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and the exquisite mouth. +Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he closed the locket and +handed it back to Lord St. Simon. + +“The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed your +acquaintance?” + +“Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I met +her several times, became engaged to her, and have now married her.” + +“She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?” + +“A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family.” + +“And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a _fait +accompli_?” + +“I really have made no inquiries on the subject.” + +“Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before the +wedding?” + +“Yes.” + +“Was she in good spirits?” + +“Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our future +lives.” + +“Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the wedding?” + +“She was as bright as possible—at least until after the ceremony.” + +“And did you observe any change in her then?” + +“Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had ever +seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident however, was +too trivial to relate and can have no possible bearing upon the case.” + +“Pray let us have it, for all that.” + +“Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards the +vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it fell over +into the pew. There was a moment’s delay, but the gentleman in the pew +handed it up to her again, and it did not appear to be the worse for +the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of the matter, she answered me +abruptly; and in the carriage, on our way home, she seemed absurdly +agitated over this trifling cause.” + +“Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of the +general public were present, then?” + +“Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is open.” + +“This gentleman was not one of your wife’s friends?” + +“No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a +common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But really I +think that we are wandering rather far from the point.” + +“Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less cheerful +frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on re-entering +her father’s house?” + +“I saw her in conversation with her maid.” + +“And who is her maid?” + +“Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California with +her.” + +“A confidential servant?” + +“A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her to +take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they look upon these +things in a different way.” + +“How long did she speak to this Alice?” + +“Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of.” + +“You did not overhear what they said?” + +“Lady St. Simon said something about ‘jumping a claim.’ She was +accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she meant.” + +“American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your wife do +when she finished speaking to her maid?” + +“She walked into the breakfast-room.” + +“On your arm?” + +“No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. Then, +after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose hurriedly, +muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She never came +back.” + +“But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to her +room, covered her bride’s dress with a long ulster, put on a bonnet, +and went out.” + +“Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in +company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who had +already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran’s house that morning.” + +“Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, and +your relations to her.” + +Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. “We have +been on a friendly footing for some years—I may say on a _very_ +friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have not treated her +ungenerously, and she had no just cause of complaint against me, but +you know what women are, Mr. Holmes. Flora was a dear little thing, but +exceedingly hot-headed and devotedly attached to me. She wrote me +dreadful letters when she heard that I was about to be married, and, to +tell the truth, the reason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly +was that I feared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came +to Mr. Doran’s door just after we returned, and she endeavoured to push +her way in, uttering very abusive expressions towards my wife, and even +threatening her, but I had foreseen the possibility of something of the +sort, and I had two police fellows there in private clothes, who soon +pushed her out again. She was quiet when she saw that there was no good +in making a row.” + +“Did your wife hear all this?” + +“No, thank goodness, she did not.” + +“And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?” + +“Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as so +serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid some +terrible trap for her.” + +“Well, it is a possible supposition.” + +“You think so, too?” + +“I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon this +as likely?” + +“I do not think Flora would hurt a fly.” + +“Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray what is +your own theory as to what took place?” + +“Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I have +given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may say that it +has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of this affair, the +consciousness that she had made so immense a social stride, had the +effect of causing some little nervous disturbance in my wife.” + +“In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?” + +“Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back—I will not +say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to without +success—I can hardly explain it in any other fashion.” + +“Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis,” said Holmes, +smiling. “And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have nearly all my +data. May I ask whether you were seated at the breakfast-table so that +you could see out of the window?” + +“We could see the other side of the road and the Park.” + +“Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. I +shall communicate with you.” + +“Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem,” said our +client, rising. + +“I have solved it.” + +“Eh? What was that?” + +“I say that I have solved it.” + +“Where, then, is my wife?” + +“That is a detail which I shall speedily supply.” + +Lord St. Simon shook his head. “I am afraid that it will take wiser +heads than yours or mine,” he remarked, and bowing in a stately, +old-fashioned manner he departed. + +“It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting it on a +level with his own,” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “I think that I +shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all this +cross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the case before +our client came into the room.” + +“My dear Holmes!” + +“I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I remarked +before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination served to turn +my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial evidence is occasionally +very convincing, as when you find a trout in the milk, to quote +Thoreau’s example.” + +“But I have heard all that you have heard.” + +“Without, however, the knowledge of pre-existing cases which serves me +so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some years back, and +something on very much the same lines at Munich the year after the +Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these cases—but, hullo, here is +Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra tumbler upon +the sideboard, and there are cigars in the box.” + +The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat, which +gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a black canvas +bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seated himself and lit the +cigar which had been offered to him. + +“What’s up, then?” asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. “You look +dissatisfied.” + +“And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage case. +I can make neither head nor tail of the business.” + +“Really! You surprise me.” + +“Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slip +through my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day.” + +“And very wet it seems to have made you,” said Holmes laying his hand +upon the arm of the pea-jacket. + +“Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine.” + +“In Heaven’s name, what for?” + +“In search of the body of Lady St. Simon.” + +Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. + +“Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?” he asked. + +“Why? What do you mean?” + +“Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in the one +as in the other.” + +Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. “I suppose you know all +about it,” he snarled. + +“Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up.” + +“Oh, indeed! Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part in the +matter?” + +“I think it very unlikely.” + +“Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this in +it?” He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a +wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin shoes and a +bride’s wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked in water. “There,” +said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of the pile. “There is +a little nut for you to crack, Master Holmes.” + +“Oh, indeed!” said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. “You +dragged them from the Serpentine?” + +“No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. They +have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the +clothes were there the body would not be far off.” + +“By the same brilliant reasoning, every man’s body is to be found in +the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to arrive +at through this?” + +“At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance.” + +“I am afraid that you will find it difficult.” + +“Are you, indeed, now?” cried Lestrade with some bitterness. “I am +afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your deductions +and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as many minutes. +This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar.” + +“And how?” + +“In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the +card-case is a note. And here is the very note.” He slapped it down +upon the table in front of him. “Listen to this: ‘You will see me when +all is ready. Come at once. F. H. M.’ Now my theory all along has been +that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by Flora Millar, and that she, +with confederates, no doubt, was responsible for her disappearance. +Here, signed with her initials, is the very note which was no doubt +quietly slipped into her hand at the door and which lured her within +their reach.” + +“Very good, Lestrade,” said Holmes, laughing. “You really are very fine +indeed. Let me see it.” He took up the paper in a listless way, but his +attention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry of +satisfaction. “This is indeed important,” said he. + +“Ha! you find it so?” + +“Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly.” + +Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. “Why,” he +shrieked, “you’re looking at the wrong side!” + +“On the contrary, this is the right side.” + +“The right side? You’re mad! Here is the note written in pencil over +here.” + +“And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel bill, +which interests me deeply.” + +“There’s nothing in it. I looked at it before,” said Lestrade. “‘Oct. +4th, rooms 8_s_., breakfast 2_s_. 6_d_., cocktail 1_s_., lunch 2_s_. +6_d_., glass sherry, 8_d_.’ I see nothing in that.” + +“Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note, +it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate +you again.” + +“I’ve wasted time enough,” said Lestrade, rising. “I believe in hard +work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day, +Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter +first.” He gathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and made +for the door. + +“Just one hint to you, Lestrade,” drawled Holmes before his rival +vanished; “I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St. +Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any such +person.” + +Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tapped his +forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried away. + +He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on his +overcoat. “There is something in what the fellow says about outdoor +work,” he remarked, “so I think, Watson, that I must leave you to your +papers for a little.” + +It was after five o’clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had no +time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a confectioner’s +man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked with the help of a +youth whom he had brought with him, and presently, to my very great +astonishment, a quite epicurean little cold supper began to be laid out +upon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of brace of +cold woodcock, a pheasant, a _pâté de foie gras_ pie with a group of +ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries, my +two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian Nights, with +no explanation save that the things had been paid for and were ordered +to this address. + +Just before nine o’clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the room. +His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his eye which +made me think that he had not been disappointed in his conclusions. + +“They have laid the supper, then,” he said, rubbing his hands. + +“You seem to expect company. They have laid for five.” + +“Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in,” said he. “I am +surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I fancy that +I hear his step now upon the stairs.” + +It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in, +dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a very +perturbed expression upon his aristocratic features. + +“My messenger reached you, then?” asked Holmes. + +“Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure. Have +you good authority for what you say?” + +“The best possible.” + +Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over his forehead. + +“What will the Duke say,” he murmured, “when he hears that one of the +family has been subjected to such humiliation?” + +“It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any +humiliation.” + +“Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint.” + +“I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the lady +could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of doing it was +undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she had no one to advise +her at such a crisis.” + +“It was a slight, sir, a public slight,” said Lord St. Simon, tapping +his fingers upon the table. + +“You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in so unprecedented +a position.” + +“I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have been +shamefully used.” + +“I think that I heard a ring,” said Holmes. “Yes, there are steps on +the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view of the +matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here who may be more +successful.” He opened the door and ushered in a lady and gentleman. +“Lord St. Simon,” said he “allow me to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. +Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I think, you have already met.” + +At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his seat and +stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand thrust into the +breast of his frock-coat, a picture of offended dignity. The lady had +taken a quick step forward and had held out her hand to him, but he +still refused to raise his eyes. It was as well for his resolution, +perhaps, for her pleading face was one which it was hard to resist. + +“You’re angry, Robert,” said she. “Well, I guess you have every cause +to be.” + +“Pray make no apology to me,” said Lord St. Simon bitterly. + +“Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that I should +have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind of rattled, and from +the time when I saw Frank here again I just didn’t know what I was +doing or saying. I only wonder I didn’t fall down and do a faint right +there before the altar.” + +“Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave the +room while you explain this matter?” + +“If I may give an opinion,” remarked the strange gentleman, “we’ve had +just a little too much secrecy over this business already. For my part, +I should like all Europe and America to hear the rights of it.” He was +a small, wiry, sunburnt man, clean-shaven, with a sharp face and alert +manner. + +“Then I’ll tell our story right away,” said the lady. “Frank here and I +met in ’84, in McQuire’s camp, near the Rockies, where Pa was working a +claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I; but then one day +father struck a rich pocket and made a pile, while poor Frank here had +a claim that petered out and came to nothing. The richer Pa grew the +poorer was Frank; so at last Pa wouldn’t hear of our engagement lasting +any longer, and he took me away to ’Frisco. Frank wouldn’t throw up his +hand, though; so he followed me there, and he saw me without Pa knowing +anything about it. It would only have made him mad to know, so we just +fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go and make his +pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had as much as Pa. +So then I promised to wait for him to the end of time and pledged +myself not to marry anyone else while he lived. ‘Why shouldn’t we be +married right away, then,’ said he, ‘and then I will feel sure of you; +and I won’t claim to be your husband until I come back?’ Well, we +talked it over, and he had fixed it all up so nicely, with a clergyman +all ready in waiting, that we just did it right there; and then Frank +went off to seek his fortune, and I went back to Pa. + +“The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then he went +prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New Mexico. After +that came a long newspaper story about how a miners’ camp had been +attacked by Apache Indians, and there was my Frank’s name among the +killed. I fainted dead away, and I was very sick for months after. Pa +thought I had a decline and took me to half the doctors in ’Frisco. Not +a word of news came for a year and more, so that I never doubted that +Frank was really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to ’Frisco, and we came +to London, and a marriage was arranged, and Pa was very pleased, but I +felt all the time that no man on this earth would ever take the place +in my heart that had been given to my poor Frank. + +“Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I’d have done my +duty by him. We can’t command our love, but we can our actions. I went +to the altar with him with the intention to make him just as good a +wife as it was in me to be. But you may imagine what I felt when, just +as I came to the altar rails, I glanced back and saw Frank standing and +looking at me out of the first pew. I thought it was his ghost at +first; but when I looked again there he was still, with a kind of +question in his eyes, as if to ask me whether I were glad or sorry to +see him. I wonder I didn’t drop. I know that everything was turning +round, and the words of the clergyman were just like the buzz of a bee +in my ear. I didn’t know what to do. Should I stop the service and make +a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and he seemed to know +what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips to tell me to +be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece of paper, and I knew that +he was writing me a note. As I passed his pew on the way out I dropped +my bouquet over to him, and he slipped the note into my hand when he +returned me the flowers. It was only a line asking me to join him when +he made the sign to me to do so. Of course I never doubted for a moment +that my first duty was now to him, and I determined to do just whatever +he might direct. + +“When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, and +had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get a +few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to have spoken to +Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before his mother and all +those great people. I just made up my mind to run away and explain +afterwards. I hadn’t been at the table ten minutes before I saw Frank +out of the window at the other side of the road. He beckoned to me and +then began walking into the Park. I slipped out, put on my things, and +followed him. Some woman came talking something or other about Lord St. +Simon to me—seemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a little +secret of his own before marriage also—but I managed to get away from +her and soon overtook Frank. We got into a cab together, and away we +drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, and that was my +true wedding after all those years of waiting. Frank had been a +prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on to ’Frisco, found that +I had given him up for dead and had gone to England, followed me there, +and had come upon me at last on the very morning of my second wedding.” + +“I saw it in a paper,” explained the American. “It gave the name and +the church but not where the lady lived.” + +“Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all for +openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should +like to vanish away and never see any of them again—just sending a line +to Pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awful to me to +think of all those lords and ladies sitting round that breakfast-table +and waiting for me to come back. So Frank took my wedding-clothes and +things and made a bundle of them, so that I should not be traced, and +dropped them away somewhere where no one could find them. It is likely +that we should have gone on to Paris to-morrow, only that this good +gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though how he +found us is more than I can think, and he showed us very clearly and +kindly that I was wrong and that Frank was right, and that we should be +putting ourselves in the wrong if we were so secret. Then he offered to +give us a chance of talking to Lord St. Simon alone, and so we came +right away round to his rooms at once. Now, Robert, you have heard it +all, and I am very sorry if I have given you pain, and I hope that you +do not think very meanly of me.” + +Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but had +listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long +narrative. + +“Excuse me,” he said, “but it is not my custom to discuss my most +intimate personal affairs in this public manner.” + +“Then you won’t forgive me? You won’t shake hands before I go?” + +“Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure.” He put out his hand +and coldly grasped that which she extended to him. + +“I had hoped,” suggested Holmes, “that you would have joined us in a +friendly supper.” + +“I think that there you ask a little too much,” responded his Lordship. +“I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments, but I can +hardly be expected to make merry over them. I think that with your +permission I will now wish you all a very good-night.” He included us +all in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the room. + +“Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company,” said +Sherlock Holmes. “It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr. Moulton, +for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a monarch and the +blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not prevent our +children from being some day citizens of the same world-wide country +under a flag which shall be a quartering of the Union Jack with the +Stars and Stripes.” + +“The case has been an interesting one,” remarked Holmes when our +visitors had left us, “because it serves to show very clearly how +simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight seems +to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural than the +sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing stranger than +the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. Lestrade of Scotland +Yard.” + +“You were not yourself at fault at all, then?” + +“From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that the +lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the other +that she had repented of it within a few minutes of returning home. +Obviously something had occurred during the morning, then, to cause her +to change her mind. What could that something be? She could not have +spoken to anyone when she was out, for she had been in the company of +the bridegroom. Had she seen someone, then? If she had, it must be +someone from America because she had spent so short a time in this +country that she could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so deep an +influence over her that the mere sight of him would induce her to +change her plans so completely. You see we have already arrived, by a +process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have seen an American. +Then who could this American be, and why should he possess so much +influence over her? It might be a lover; it might be a husband. Her +young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough scenes and under +strange conditions. So far I had got before I ever heard Lord St. +Simon’s narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew, of the change in +the bride’s manner, of so transparent a device for obtaining a note as +the dropping of a bouquet, of her resort to her confidential maid, and +of her very significant allusion to claim-jumping—which in miners’ +parlance means taking possession of that which another person has a +prior claim to—the whole situation became absolutely clear. She had +gone off with a man, and the man was either a lover or was a previous +husband—the chances being in favour of the latter.” + +“And how in the world did you find them?” + +“It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held information in +his hands the value of which he did not himself know. The initials +were, of course, of the highest importance, but more valuable still was +it to know that within a week he had settled his bill at one of the +most select London hotels.” + +“How did you deduce the select?” + +“By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence for a +glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive hotels. There are +not many in London which charge at that rate. In the second one which I +visited in Northumberland Avenue, I learned by an inspection of the +book that Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman, had left only the +day before, and on looking over the entries against him, I came upon +the very items which I had seen in the duplicate bill. His letters were +to be forwarded to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and being +fortunate enough to find the loving couple at home, I ventured to give +them some paternal advice and to point out to them that it would be +better in every way that they should make their position a little +clearer both to the general public and to Lord St. Simon in particular. +I invited them to meet him here, and, as you see, I made him keep the +appointment.” + +“But with no very good result,” I remarked. “His conduct was certainly +not very gracious.” + +“Ah, Watson,” said Holmes, smiling, “perhaps you would not be very +gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you +found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of fortune. I think +that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully and thank our stars +that we are never likely to find ourselves in the same position. Draw +your chair up and hand me my violin, for the only problem we have still +to solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal evenings.” + + + + +XI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET + + +“Holmes,” said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down +the street, “here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that +his relatives should allow him to come out alone.” + +My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the +pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a +bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still +lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down +the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly +band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of +the footpaths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey pavement +had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so +that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction +of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman +whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention. + +He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a +massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed +in a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat, shining hat, neat +brown gaiters, and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were +in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he was +running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man gives +who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his legs. As he ran he +jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and writhed his face +into the most extraordinary contortions. + +“What on earth can be the matter with him?” I asked. “He is looking up +at the numbers of the houses.” + +“I believe that he is coming here,” said Holmes, rubbing his hands. + +“Here?” + +“Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I think +that I recognise the symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you?” As he spoke, +the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at our bell +until the whole house resounded with the clanging. + +A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still +gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his +eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity. For +a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and plucked +at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme limits of his +reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat his head against +the wall with such force that we both rushed upon him and tore him away +to the centre of the room. Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the +easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted his hand and chatted with +him in the easy, soothing tones which he knew so well how to employ. + +“You have come to me to tell your story, have you not?” said he. “You +are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until you have recovered +yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into any little +problem which you may submit to me.” + +The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting against +his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow, set his +lips tight, and turned his face towards us. + +“No doubt you think me mad?” said he. + +“I see that you have had some great trouble,” responded Holmes. + +“God knows I have!—a trouble which is enough to unseat my reason, so +sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might have faced, +although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain. +Private affliction also is the lot of every man; but the two coming +together, and in so frightful a form, have been enough to shake my very +soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land may +suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair.” + +“Pray compose yourself, sir,” said Holmes, “and let me have a clear +account of who you are and what it is that has befallen you.” + +“My name,” answered our visitor, “is probably familiar to your ears. I +am Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder & Stevenson, of +Threadneedle Street.” + +The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior partner +in the second largest private banking concern in the City of London. +What could have happened, then, to bring one of the foremost citizens +of London to this most pitiable pass? We waited, all curiosity, until +with another effort he braced himself to tell his story. + +“I feel that time is of value,” said he; “that is why I hastened here +when the police inspector suggested that I should secure your +co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried +from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is +why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little +exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the facts before you as +shortly and yet as clearly as I can. + +“It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking +business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative +investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection and the +number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means of laying out +money is in the shape of loans, where the security is unimpeachable. We +have done a good deal in this direction during the last few years, and +there are many noble families to whom we have advanced large sums upon +the security of their pictures, libraries, or plate. + +“Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a card +was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I saw the +name, for it was that of none other than—well, perhaps even to you I +had better say no more than that it was a name which is a household +word all over the earth—one of the highest, noblest, most exalted names +in England. I was overwhelmed by the honour and attempted, when he +entered, to say so, but he plunged at once into business with the air +of a man who wishes to hurry quickly through a disagreeable task. + +“‘Mr. Holder,’ said he, ‘I have been informed that you are in the habit +of advancing money.’ + +“‘The firm does so when the security is good.’ I answered. + +“‘It is absolutely essential to me,’ said he, ‘that I should have £ +50,000 at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten times +over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it a matter of business +and to carry out that business myself. In my position you can readily +understand that it is unwise to place one’s self under obligations.’ + +“‘For how long, may I ask, do you want this sum?’ I asked. + +“‘Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most +certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it +right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the money should +be paid at once.’ + +“‘I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my own +private purse,’ said I, ‘were it not that the strain would be rather +more than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do it in the +name of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must insist that, +even in your case, every businesslike precaution should be taken.’ + +“‘I should much prefer to have it so,’ said he, raising up a square, +black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair. ‘You have +doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?’ + +“‘One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,’ said I. + +“‘Precisely.’ He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft, +flesh-coloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery which he +had named. ‘There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,’ said he, ‘and the +price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The lowest estimate would +put the worth of the coronet at double the sum which I have asked. I am +prepared to leave it with you as my security.’ + +“I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some perplexity +from it to my illustrious client. + +“‘You doubt its value?’ he asked. + +“‘Not at all. I only doubt—’ + +“‘The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest about +that. I should not dream of doing so were it not absolutely certain +that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a pure matter +of form. Is the security sufficient?’ + +“‘Ample.’ + +“‘You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof of +the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I have heard +of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to refrain from all +gossip upon the matter but, above all, to preserve this coronet with +every possible precaution because I need not say that a great public +scandal would be caused if any harm were to befall it. Any injury to it +would be almost as serious as its complete loss, for there are no +beryls in the world to match these, and it would be impossible to +replace them. I leave it with you, however, with every confidence, and +I shall call for it in person on Monday morning.’ + +“Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more but, +calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty £ 1000 notes. +When I was alone once more, however, with the precious case lying upon +the table in front of me, I could not but think with some misgivings of +the immense responsibility which it entailed upon me. There could be no +doubt that, as it was a national possession, a horrible scandal would +ensue if any misfortune should occur to it. I already regretted having +ever consented to take charge of it. However, it was too late to alter +the matter now, so I locked it up in my private safe and turned once +more to my work. + +“When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave so +precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers’ safes had been +forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how terrible +would be the position in which I should find myself! I determined, +therefore, that for the next few days I would always carry the case +backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of +my reach. With this intention, I called a cab and drove out to my house +at Streatham, carrying the jewel with me. I did not breathe freely +until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of my +dressing-room. + +“And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes, for I wish you to +thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep out of +the house, and may be set aside altogether. I have three maid-servants +who have been with me a number of years and whose absolute reliability +is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy Parr, the second waiting-maid, +has only been in my service a few months. She came with an excellent +character, however, and has always given me satisfaction. She is a very +pretty girl and has attracted admirers who have occasionally hung about +the place. That is the only drawback which we have found to her, but we +believe her to be a thoroughly good girl in every way. + +“So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it will +not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an only son, +Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes—a grievous +disappointment. I have no doubt that I am myself to blame. People tell +me that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have. When my dear wife died +I felt that he was all I had to love. I could not bear to see the smile +fade even for a moment from his face. I have never denied him a wish. +Perhaps it would have been better for both of us had I been sterner, +but I meant it for the best. + +“It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my +business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, wayward, and, +to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the handling of large sums +of money. When he was young he became a member of an aristocratic club, +and there, having charming manners, he was soon the intimate of a +number of men with long purses and expensive habits. He learned to play +heavily at cards and to squander money on the turf, until he had again +and again to come to me and implore me to give him an advance upon his +allowance, that he might settle his debts of honour. He tried more than +once to break away from the dangerous company which he was keeping, but +each time the influence of his friend, Sir George Burnwell, was enough +to draw him back again. + +“And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George Burnwell +should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently brought him to +my house, and I have found myself that I could hardly resist the +fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man of the world +to his finger-tips, one who had been everywhere, seen everything, a +brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beauty. Yet when I think +of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of his presence, I am +convinced from his cynical speech and the look which I have caught in +his eyes that he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think, +and so, too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman’s quick insight +into character. + +“And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece; but when +my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world I +adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my daughter. She is +a sunbeam in my house—sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful manager and +housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a woman could be. +She is my right hand. I do not know what I could do without her. In +only one matter has she ever gone against my wishes. Twice my boy has +asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly, but each time she +has refused him. I think that if anyone could have drawn him into the +right path it would have been she, and that his marriage might have +changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too late—forever too late! + +“Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I +shall continue with my miserable story. + +“When we were taking coffee in the drawing-room that night after +dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious +treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name of my +client. Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am sure, left +the room; but I cannot swear that the door was closed. Mary and Arthur +were much interested and wished to see the famous coronet, but I +thought it better not to disturb it. + +“‘Where have you put it?’ asked Arthur. + +“‘In my own bureau.’ + +“‘Well, I hope to goodness the house won’t be burgled during the +night.’ said he. + +“‘It is locked up,’ I answered. + +“‘Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I have +opened it myself with the key of the box-room cupboard.’ + +“He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thought little of what +he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with a very +grave face. + +“‘Look here, dad,’ said he with his eyes cast down, ‘can you let me +have £ 200?’ + +“‘No, I cannot!’ I answered sharply. ‘I have been far too generous with +you in money matters.’ + +“‘You have been very kind,’ said he, ‘but I must have this money, or +else I can never show my face inside the club again.’ + +“‘And a very good thing, too!’ I cried. + +“‘Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man,’ said he. +‘I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money in some way, and +if you will not let me have it, then I must try other means.’ + +“I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the month. ‘You +shall not have a farthing from me,’ I cried, on which he bowed and left +the room without another word. + +“When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my treasure was +safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go round the house to see +that all was secure—a duty which I usually leave to Mary but which I +thought it well to perform myself that night. As I came down the stairs +I saw Mary herself at the side window of the hall, which she closed and +fastened as I approached. + +“‘Tell me, dad,’ said she, looking, I thought, a little disturbed, ‘did +you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out to-night?’ + +“‘Certainly not.’ + +“‘She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she has +only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that it is +hardly safe and should be stopped.’ + +“‘You must speak to her in the morning, or I will if you prefer it. Are +you sure that everything is fastened?’ + +“‘Quite sure, dad.’ + +“‘Then, good-night.’ I kissed her and went up to my bedroom again, +where I was soon asleep. + +“I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may have +any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question me upon any +point which I do not make clear.” + +“On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid.” + +“I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be +particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety in my +mind tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than usual. About two in +the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in the house. It had +ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an impression behind it as +though a window had gently closed somewhere. I lay listening with all +my ears. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a distinct sound of +footsteps moving softly in the next room. I slipped out of bed, all +palpitating with fear, and peeped round the corner of my dressing-room +door. + +“‘Arthur!’ I screamed, ‘you villain! you thief! How dare you touch that +coronet?’ + +“The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, dressed +only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the light, holding +the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be wrenching at it, or bending +it with all his strength. At my cry he dropped it from his grasp and +turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it. One of the +gold corners, with three of the beryls in it, was missing. + +“‘You blackguard!’ I shouted, beside myself with rage. ‘You have +destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels +which you have stolen?’ + +“‘Stolen!’ he cried. + +“‘Yes, thief!’ I roared, shaking him by the shoulder. + +“‘There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,’ said he. + +“‘There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I call you +a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off another +piece?’ + +“‘You have called me names enough,’ said he, ‘I will not stand it any +longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you +have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and +make my own way in the world.’ + +“‘You shall leave it in the hands of the police!’ I cried half-mad with +grief and rage. ‘I shall have this matter probed to the bottom.’ + +“‘You shall learn nothing from me,’ said he with a passion such as I +should not have thought was in his nature. ‘If you choose to call the +police, let the police find what they can.’ + +“By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my voice in +my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, at the sight of +the coronet and of Arthur’s face, she read the whole story and, with a +scream, fell down senseless on the ground. I sent the housemaid for the +police and put the investigation into their hands at once. When the +inspector and a constable entered the house, Arthur, who had stood +sullenly with his arms folded, asked me whether it was my intention to +charge him with theft. I answered that it had ceased to be a private +matter, but had become a public one, since the ruined coronet was +national property. I was determined that the law should have its way in +everything. + +“‘At least,’ said he, ‘you will not have me arrested at once. It would +be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house for +five minutes.’ + +“‘That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you have +stolen,’ said I. And then, realising the dreadful position in which I +was placed, I implored him to remember that not only my honour but that +of one who was far greater than I was at stake; and that he threatened +to raise a scandal which would convulse the nation. He might avert it +all if he would but tell me what he had done with the three missing +stones. + +“‘You may as well face the matter,’ said I; ‘you have been caught in +the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. If you +but make such reparation as is in your power, by telling us where the +beryls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.’ + +“‘Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,’ he answered, turning +away from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened for any words +of mine to influence him. There was but one way for it. I called in the +inspector and gave him into custody. A search was made at once not only +of his person but of his room and of every portion of the house where +he could possibly have concealed the gems; but no trace of them could +be found, nor would the wretched boy open his mouth for all our +persuasions and our threats. This morning he was removed to a cell, and +I, after going through all the police formalities, have hurried round +to you to implore you to use your skill in unravelling the matter. The +police have openly confessed that they can at present make nothing of +it. You may go to any expense which you think necessary. I have already +offered a reward of £ 1000. My God, what shall I do! I have lost my +honour, my gems, and my son in one night. Oh, what shall I do!” + +He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to and fro, +droning to himself like a child whose grief has got beyond words. + +Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows knitted +and his eyes fixed upon the fire. + +“Do you receive much company?” he asked. + +“None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of +Arthur’s. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No one +else, I think.” + +“Do you go out much in society?” + +“Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for it.” + +“That is unusual in a young girl.” + +“She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She is +four-and-twenty.” + +“This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to her +also.” + +“Terrible! She is even more affected than I.” + +“You have neither of you any doubt as to your son’s guilt?” + +“How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet in +his hands.” + +“I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of the +coronet at all injured?” + +“Yes, it was twisted.” + +“Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to straighten +it?” + +“God bless you! You are doing what you can for him and for me. But it +is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If his purpose +were innocent, why did he not say so?” + +“Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? His +silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several singular +points about the case. What did the police think of the noise which +awoke you from your sleep?” + +“They considered that it might be caused by Arthur’s closing his +bedroom door.” + +“A likely story! As if a man bent on felony would slam his door so as +to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the disappearance of +these gems?” + +“They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture in the +hope of finding them.” + +“Have they thought of looking outside the house?” + +“Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden has +already been minutely examined.” + +“Now, my dear sir,” said Holmes, “is it not obvious to you now that +this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you or the +police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you to be a +simple case; to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider what is +involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came down from his +bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room, opened your bureau, +took out your coronet, broke off by main force a small portion of it, +went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of the +thirty-nine, with such skill that nobody can find them, and then +returned with the other thirty-six into the room in which he exposed +himself to the greatest danger of being discovered. I ask you now, is +such a theory tenable?” + +“But what other is there?” cried the banker with a gesture of despair. +“If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain them?” + +“It is our task to find that out,” replied Holmes; “so now, if you +please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, and devote +an hour to glancing a little more closely into details.” + +My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, which +I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy were deeply +stirred by the story to which we had listened. I confess that the guilt +of the banker’s son appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his +unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes’ judgment that I +felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long as he was +dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He hardly spoke a word the +whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his +breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. +Our client appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of +hope which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a +desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway +journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest residence +of the great financier. + +Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing back a +little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-clad lawn, +stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed the +entrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket, which led into +a narrow path between two neat hedges stretching from the road to the +kitchen door, and forming the tradesmen’s entrance. On the left ran a +lane which led to the stables, and was not itself within the grounds at +all, being a public, though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us +standing at the door and walked slowly all round the house, across the +front, down the tradesmen’s path, and so round by the garden behind +into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I went into +the dining-room and waited by the fire until he should return. We were +sitting there in silence when the door opened and a young lady came in. +She was rather above the middle height, slim, with dark hair and eyes, +which seemed the darker against the absolute pallor of her skin. I do +not think that I have ever seen such deadly paleness in a woman’s face. +Her lips, too, were bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. +As she swept silently into the room she impressed me with a greater +sense of grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the +more striking in her as she was evidently a woman of strong character, +with immense capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding my presence, she +went straight to her uncle and passed her hand over his head with a +sweet womanly caress. + +“You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you not, +dad?” she asked. + +“No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to the bottom.” + +“But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman’s instincts +are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will be sorry for +having acted so harshly.” + +“Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent?” + +“Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should suspect +him.” + +“How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with the +coronet in his hand?” + +“Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take my +word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say no more. +It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in prison!” + +“I shall never let it drop until the gems are found—never, Mary! Your +affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences to me. Far +from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman down from London +to inquire more deeply into it.” + +“This gentleman?” she asked, facing round to me. + +“No, his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round in the +stable lane now.” + +“The stable lane?” She raised her dark eyebrows. “What can he hope to +find there? Ah! this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, that you will +succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth, that my cousin +Arthur is innocent of this crime.” + +“I fully share your opinion, and I trust, with you, that we may prove +it,” returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the snow from his +shoes. “I believe I have the honour of addressing Miss Mary Holder. +Might I ask you a question or two?” + +“Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up.” + +“You heard nothing yourself last night?” + +“Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heard that, and +I came down.” + +“You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you fasten all +the windows?” + +“Yes.” + +“Were they all fastened this morning?” + +“Yes.” + +“You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked to +your uncle last night that she had been out to see him?” + +“Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and who may +have heard uncle’s remarks about the coronet.” + +“I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her sweetheart, +and that the two may have planned the robbery.” + +“But what is the good of all these vague theories,” cried the banker +impatiently, “when I have told you that I saw Arthur with the coronet +in his hands?” + +“Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this girl, +Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I presume?” + +“Yes; when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I met +her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom.” + +“Do you know him?” + +“Oh, yes! he is the greengrocer who brings our vegetables round. His +name is Francis Prosper.” + +“He stood,” said Holmes, “to the left of the door—that is to say, +farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door?” + +“Yes, he did.” + +“And he is a man with a wooden leg?” + +Something like fear sprang up in the young lady’s expressive black +eyes. “Why, you are like a magician,” said she. “How do you know that?” +She smiled, but there was no answering smile in Holmes’ thin, eager +face. + +“I should be very glad now to go upstairs,” said he. “I shall probably +wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps I had better +take a look at the lower windows before I go up.” + +He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at the +large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. This he +opened and made a very careful examination of the sill with his +powerful magnifying lens. “Now we shall go upstairs,” said he at last. + +The banker’s dressing-room was a plainly furnished little chamber, with +a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror. Holmes went to the +bureau first and looked hard at the lock. + +“Which key was used to open it?” he asked. + +“That which my son himself indicated—that of the cupboard of the +lumber-room.” + +“Have you it here?” + +“That is it on the dressing-table.” + +Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau. + +“It is a noiseless lock,” said he. “It is no wonder that it did not +wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must have a +look at it.” He opened the case, and taking out the diadem he laid it +upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the jeweller’s art, +and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I have ever seen. At one +side of the coronet was a cracked edge, where a corner holding three +gems had been torn away. + +“Now, Mr. Holder,” said Holmes, “here is the corner which corresponds +to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I beg that you will +break it off.” + +The banker recoiled in horror. “I should not dream of trying,” said he. + +“Then I will.” Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but without +result. “I feel it give a little,” said he; “but, though I am +exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my time to +break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do you think would +happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would be a noise like a +pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this happened within a few yards +of your bed and that you heard nothing of it?” + +“I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me.” + +“But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think, Miss +Holder?” + +“I confess that I still share my uncle’s perplexity.” + +“Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?” + +“He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt.” + +“Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary luck +during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault if we do not +succeed in clearing the matter up. With your permission, Mr. Holder, I +shall now continue my investigations outside.” + +He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any +unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an hour +or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet heavy with snow +and his features as inscrutable as ever. + +“I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. Holder,” +said he; “I can serve you best by returning to my rooms.” + +“But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?” + +“I cannot tell.” + +The banker wrung his hands. “I shall never see them again!” he cried. +“And my son? You give me hopes?” + +“My opinion is in no way altered.” + +“Then, for God’s sake, what was this dark business which was acted in +my house last night?” + +“If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms to-morrow morning +between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to make it +clearer. I understand that you give me _carte blanche_ to act for you, +provided only that I get back the gems, and that you place no limit on +the sum I may draw.” + +“I would give my fortune to have them back.” + +“Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then. +Good-bye; it is just possible that I may have to come over here again +before evening.” + +It was obvious to me that my companion’s mind was now made up about the +case, although what his conclusions were was more than I could even +dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward journey I endeavoured +to sound him upon the point, but he always glided away to some other +topic, until at last I gave it over in despair. It was not yet three +when we found ourselves in our rooms once more. He hurried to his +chamber and was down again in a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. +With his collar turned up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and +his worn boots, he was a perfect sample of the class. + +“I think that this should do,” said he, glancing into the glass above +the fireplace. “I only wish that you could come with me, Watson, but I +fear that it won’t do. I may be on the trail in this matter, or I may +be following a will-o’-the-wisp, but I shall soon know which it is. I +hope that I may be back in a few hours.” He cut a slice of beef from +the joint upon the sideboard, sandwiched it between two rounds of +bread, and thrusting this rude meal into his pocket he started off upon +his expedition. + +I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in excellent +spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his hand. He chucked it +down into a corner and helped himself to a cup of tea. + +“I only looked in as I passed,” said he. “I am going right on.” + +“Where to?” + +“Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time before I +get back. Don’t wait up for me in case I should be late.” + +“How are you getting on?” + +“Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham since +I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a very sweet +little problem, and I would not have missed it for a good deal. +However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get these disreputable +clothes off and return to my highly respectable self.” + +I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for satisfaction +than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled, and there was even +a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He hastened upstairs, and a +few minutes later I heard the slam of the hall door, which told me that +he was off once more upon his congenial hunt. + +I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so I +retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away for +days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that his +lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he came in, +but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there he was with a +cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the other, as fresh and trim +as possible. + +“You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson,” said he, “but you +remember that our client has rather an early appointment this morning.” + +“Why, it is after nine now,” I answered. “I should not be surprised if +that were he. I thought I heard a ring.” + +It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the change +which had come over him, for his face which was naturally of a broad +and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in, while his hair seemed +to me at least a shade whiter. He entered with a weariness and lethargy +which was even more painful than his violence of the morning before, +and he dropped heavily into the armchair which I pushed forward for +him. + +“I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried,” said he. +“Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without a care in +the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured age. One sorrow +comes close upon the heels of another. My niece, Mary, has deserted +me.” + +“Deserted you?” + +“Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was empty, +and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to her last +night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had married my boy all +might have been well with him. Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to say +so. It is to that remark that she refers in this note: + + “‘MY DEAREST UNCLE,—I feel that I have brought trouble upon you, + and that if I had acted differently this terrible misfortune might + never have occurred. I cannot, with this thought in my mind, ever + again be happy under your roof, and I feel that I must leave you + forever. Do not worry about my future, for that is provided for; + and, above all, do not search for me, for it will be fruitless + labour and an ill-service to me. In life or in death, I am ever + your loving, + + + “‘MARY.’ + + +“What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it points +to suicide?” + +“No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible solution. +I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your troubles.” + +“Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. Holmes; you have learned +something! Where are the gems?” + +“You would not think £ 1000 apiece an excessive sum for them?” + +“I would pay ten.” + +“That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. And +there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your cheque-book? Here is a +pen. Better make it out for £ 4000.” + +With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes walked +over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of gold with three +gems in it, and threw it down upon the table. + +With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up. + +“You have it!” he gasped. “I am saved! I am saved!” + +The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and he +hugged his recovered gems to his bosom. + +“There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder,” said Sherlock Holmes +rather sternly. + +“Owe!” He caught up a pen. “Name the sum, and I will pay it.” + +“No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that noble +lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I should be +proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to have one.” + +“Then it was not Arthur who took them?” + +“I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not.” + +“You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him know +that the truth is known.” + +“He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an interview +with him, and finding that he would not tell me the story, I told it to +him, on which he had to confess that I was right and to add the very +few details which were not yet quite clear to me. Your news of this +morning, however, may open his lips.” + +“For Heaven’s sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary mystery!” + +“I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached it. And +let me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me to say and +for you to hear: there has been an understanding between Sir George +Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together.” + +“My Mary? Impossible!” + +“It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither you nor +your son knew the true character of this man when you admitted him into +your family circle. He is one of the most dangerous men in England—a +ruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man without heart or +conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his +vows to her, as he had done to a hundred before her, she flattered +herself that she alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what +he said, but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of +seeing him nearly every evening.” + +“I cannot, and I will not, believe it!” cried the banker with an ashen +face. + +“I will tell you, then, what occurred in your house last night. Your +niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room, slipped down +and talked to her lover through the window which leads into the stable +lane. His footmarks had pressed right through the snow, so long had he +stood there. She told him of the coronet. His wicked lust for gold +kindled at the news, and he bent her to his will. I have no doubt that +she loved you, but there are women in whom the love of a lover +extinguishes all other loves, and I think that she must have been one. +She had hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you coming +downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you about +one of the servants’ escapade with her wooden-legged lover, which was +all perfectly true. + +“Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but he +slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. In the +middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, so he rose +and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin walking very +stealthily along the passage until she disappeared into your +dressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad slipped on some +clothes and waited there in the dark to see what would come of this +strange affair. Presently she emerged from the room again, and in the +light of the passage-lamp your son saw that she carried the precious +coronet in her hands. She passed down the stairs, and he, thrilling +with horror, ran along and slipped behind the curtain near your door, +whence he could see what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her +stealthily open the window, hand out the coronet to someone in the +gloom, and then closing it once more hurry back to her room, passing +quite close to where he stood hid behind the curtain. + +“As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action without a +horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the instant that she +was gone he realised how crushing a misfortune this would be for you, +and how all-important it was to set it right. He rushed down, just as +he was, in his bare feet, opened the window, sprang out into the snow, +and ran down the lane, where he could see a dark figure in the +moonlight. Sir George Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught +him, and there was a struggle between them, your lad tugging at one +side of the coronet, and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle, +your son struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then something +suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the coronet in his +hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to your room, and had +just observed that the coronet had been twisted in the struggle and was +endeavouring to straighten it when you appeared upon the scene.” + +“Is it possible?” gasped the banker. + +“You then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when he +felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He could not explain the +true state of affairs without betraying one who certainly deserved +little enough consideration at his hands. He took the more chivalrous +view, however, and preserved her secret.” + +“And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the coronet,” +cried Mr. Holder. “Oh, my God! what a blind fool I have been! And his +asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes! The dear fellow wanted +to see if the missing piece were at the scene of the struggle. How +cruelly I have misjudged him!” + +“When I arrived at the house,” continued Holmes, “I at once went very +carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in the snow +which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since the evening +before, and also that there had been a strong frost to preserve +impressions. I passed along the tradesmen’s path, but found it all +trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it, however, at the +far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stood and talked with a man, +whose round impressions on one side showed that he had a wooden leg. I +could even tell that they had been disturbed, for the woman had run +back swiftly to the door, as was shown by the deep toe and light heel +marks, while Wooden-leg had waited a little, and then had gone away. I +thought at the time that this might be the maid and her sweetheart, of +whom you had already spoken to me, and inquiry showed it was so. I +passed round the garden without seeing anything more than random +tracks, which I took to be the police; but when I got into the stable +lane a very long and complex story was written in the snow in front of +me. + +“There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a second double +line which I saw with delight belonged to a man with naked feet. I was +at once convinced from what you had told me that the latter was your +son. The first had walked both ways, but the other had run swiftly, and +as his tread was marked in places over the depression of the boot, it +was obvious that he had passed after the other. I followed them up and +found they led to the hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow +away while waiting. Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred +yards or more down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced round, where +the snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle, and, finally, +where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me that I was not +mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane, and another little smudge +of blood showed that it was he who had been hurt. When he came to the +high road at the other end, I found that the pavement had been cleared, +so there was an end to that clue. + +“On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember, the sill +and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could at once see +that someone had passed out. I could distinguish the outline of an +instep where the wet foot had been placed in coming in. I was then +beginning to be able to form an opinion as to what had occurred. A man +had waited outside the window; someone had brought the gems; the deed +had been overseen by your son; he had pursued the thief; had struggled +with him; they had each tugged at the coronet, their united strength +causing injuries which neither alone could have effected. He had +returned with the prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of his +opponent. So far I was clear. The question now was, who was the man, and +who was it brought him the coronet? + +“It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the impossible, +whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Now, I knew +that it was not you who had brought it down, so there only remained +your niece and the maids. But if it were the maids, why should your son +allow himself to be accused in their place? There could be no possible +reason. As he loved his cousin, however, there was an excellent +explanation why he should retain her secret—the more so as the secret +was a disgraceful one. When I remembered that you had seen her at that +window, and how she had fainted on seeing the coronet again, my +conjecture became a certainty. + +“And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently, for +who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must feel to +you? I knew that you went out little, and that your circle of friends +was a very limited one. But among them was Sir George Burnwell. I had +heard of him before as being a man of evil reputation among women. It +must have been he who wore those boots and retained the missing gems. +Even though he knew that Arthur had discovered him, he might still +flatter himself that he was safe, for the lad could not say a word +without compromising his own family. + +“Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I took next. I +went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George’s house, managed to pick up +an acquaintance with his valet, learned that his master had cut his +head the night before, and, finally, at the expense of six shillings, +made all sure by buying a pair of his cast-off shoes. With these I +journeyed down to Streatham and saw that they exactly fitted the +tracks.” + +“I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening,” said Mr. +Holder. + +“Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home and +changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to play then, +for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to avert scandal, and I +knew that so astute a villain would see that our hands were tied in the +matter. I went and saw him. At first, of course, he denied everything. +But when I gave him every particular that had occurred, he tried to +bluster and took down a life-preserver from the wall. I knew my man, +however, and I clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. +Then he became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give +him a price for the stones he held—£ 1000 apiece. That brought out the +first signs of grief that he had shown. ‘Why, dash it all!’ said he, +‘I’ve let them go at six hundred for the three!’ I soon managed to get +the address of the receiver who had them, on promising him that there +would be no prosecution. Off I set to him, and after much chaffering I +got our stones at £ 1000 apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told +him that all was right, and eventually got to my bed about two o’clock, +after what I may call a really hard day’s work.” + +“A day which has saved England from a great public scandal,” said the +banker, rising. “Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but you shall +not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your skill has indeed +exceeded all that I have heard of it. And now I must fly to my dear boy +to apologise to him for the wrong which I have done him. As to what you +tell me of poor Mary, it goes to my very heart. Not even your skill can +inform me where she is now.” + +“I think that we may safely say,” returned Holmes, “that she is +wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that +whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than sufficient +punishment.” + + + + +XII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES + + +“To the man who loves art for its own sake,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, +tossing aside the advertisement sheet of _The Daily Telegraph_, “it is +frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the +keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe, +Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth that in these little +records of our cases which you have been good enough to draw up, and, I +am bound to say, occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence +not so much to the many _causes célèbres_ and sensational trials in +which I have figured but rather to those incidents which may have been +trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those faculties of +deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made my special +province.” + +“And yet,” said I, smiling, “I cannot quite hold myself absolved from +the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my records.” + +“You have erred, perhaps,” he observed, taking up a glowing cinder with +the tongs and lighting with it the long cherry-wood pipe which was wont +to replace his clay when he was in a disputatious rather than a +meditative mood—“you have erred perhaps in attempting to put colour and +life into each of your statements instead of confining yourself to the +task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect +which is really the only notable feature about the thing.” + +“It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter,” I +remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which I +had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend’s +singular character. + +“No, it is not selfishness or conceit,” said he, answering, as was his +wont, my thoughts rather than my words. “If I claim full justice for my +art, it is because it is an impersonal thing—a thing beyond myself. +Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather +than upon the crime that you should dwell. You have degraded what +should have been a course of lectures into a series of tales.” + +It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after breakfast +on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A +thick fog rolled down between the lines of dun-coloured houses, and the +opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through the heavy +yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shone on the white cloth and +glimmer of china and metal, for the table had not been cleared yet. +Sherlock Holmes had been silent all the morning, dipping continuously +into the advertisement columns of a succession of papers until at last, +having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very sweet +temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings. + +“At the same time,” he remarked after a pause, during which he had sat +puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, “you can hardly +be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of these cases which you +have been so kind as to interest yourself in, a fair proportion do not +treat of crime, in its legal sense, at all. The small matter in which I +endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the singular experience of +Miss Mary Sutherland, the problem connected with the man with the +twisted lip, and the incident of the noble bachelor, were all matters +which are outside the pale of the law. But in avoiding the sensational, +I fear that you may have bordered on the trivial.” + +“The end may have been so,” I answered, “but the methods I hold to have +been novel and of interest.” + +“Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unobservant +public, who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor by +his left thumb, care about the finer shades of analysis and deduction! +But, indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot blame you, for the days of +the great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all +enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice, it seems to +be degenerating into an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and +giving advice to young ladies from boarding-schools. I think that I +have touched bottom at last, however. This note I had this morning +marks my zero-point, I fancy. Read it!” He tossed a crumpled letter +across to me. + +It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening, and ran +thus: + + “DEAR MR. HOLMES,—I am very anxious to consult you as to whether I + should or should not accept a situation which has been offered to + me as governess. I shall call at half-past ten to-morrow if I do + not inconvenience you. Yours faithfully, + + + “VIOLET HUNTER.” + + +“Do you know the young lady?” I asked. + +“Not I.” + +“It is half-past ten now.” + +“Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring.” + +“It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember +that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere whim +at first, developed into a serious investigation. It may be so in this +case, also.” + +“Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, for +here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question.” + +As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. She was +plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled like a +plover’s egg, and with the brisk manner of a woman who has had her own +way to make in the world. + +“You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure,” said she, as my +companion rose to greet her, “but I have had a very strange experience, +and as I have no parents or relations of any sort from whom I could ask +advice, I thought that perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what +I should do.” + +“Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything that I +can to serve you.” + +I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner and +speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching fashion, +and then composed himself, with his lids drooping and his finger-tips +together, to listen to her story. + +“I have been a governess for five years,” said she, “in the family of +Colonel Spence Munro, but two months ago the colonel received an +appointment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and took his children over to +America with him, so that I found myself without a situation. I +advertised, and I answered advertisements, but without success. At last +the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was at my +wit’s end as to what I should do. + +“There is a well-known agency for governesses in the West End called +Westaway’s, and there I used to call about once a week in order to see +whether anything had turned up which might suit me. Westaway was the +name of the founder of the business, but it is really managed by Miss +Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and the ladies who are +seeking employment wait in an anteroom, and are then shown in one by +one, when she consults her ledgers and sees whether she has anything +which would suit them. + +“Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office as +usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously stout +man with a very smiling face and a great heavy chin which rolled down +in fold upon fold over his throat sat at her elbow with a pair of +glasses on his nose, looking very earnestly at the ladies who entered. +As I came in he gave quite a jump in his chair and turned quickly to +Miss Stoper. + +“‘That will do,’ said he; ‘I could not ask for anything better. +Capital! capital!’ He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his hands +together in the most genial fashion. He was such a comfortable-looking +man that it was quite a pleasure to look at him. + +“‘You are looking for a situation, miss?’ he asked. + +“‘Yes, sir.’ + +“‘As governess?’ + +“‘Yes, sir.’ + +“‘And what salary do you ask?’ + +“‘I had £ 4 a month in my last place with Colonel Spence Munro.’ + +“‘Oh, tut, tut! sweating—rank sweating!’ he cried, throwing his fat +hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. ‘How +could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions and +accomplishments?’ + +“‘My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine,’ said I. ‘A +little French, a little German, music, and drawing—’ + +“‘Tut, tut!’ he cried. ‘This is all quite beside the question. The +point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment of a +lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fitted +for the rearing of a child who may some day play a considerable part in +the history of the country. But if you have, why, then, how could any +gentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the three +figures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at £ 100 a year.’ + +“You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such an +offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, seeing +perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, opened a pocket-book and +took out a note. + +“‘It is also my custom,’ said he, smiling in the most pleasant fashion +until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid the white +creases of his face, ‘to advance to my young ladies half their salary +beforehand, so that they may meet any little expenses of their journey +and their wardrobe.’ + +“It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so thoughtful +a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the advance was a +great convenience, and yet there was something unnatural about the +whole transaction which made me wish to know a little more before I +quite committed myself. + +“‘May I ask where you live, sir?’ said I. + +“‘Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper Beeches, five miles on +the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my dear +young lady, and the dearest old country-house.’ + +“‘And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know what they would be.’ + +“‘One child—one dear little romper just six years old. Oh, if you could +see him killing cockroaches with a slipper! Smack! smack! smack! Three +gone before you could wink!’ He leaned back in his chair and laughed +his eyes into his head again. + +“I was a little startled at the nature of the child’s amusement, but +the father’s laughter made me think that perhaps he was joking. + +“‘My sole duties, then,’ I asked, ‘are to take charge of a single +child?’ + +“‘No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady,’ he cried. +‘Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would suggest, to +obey any little commands my wife might give, provided always that they +were such commands as a lady might with propriety obey. You see no +difficulty, heh?’ + +“‘I should be happy to make myself useful.’ + +“‘Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you +know—faddy but kind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress which +we might give you, you would not object to our little whim. Heh?’ + +“‘No,’ said I, considerably astonished at his words. + +“‘Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensive to you?’ + +“‘Oh, no.’ + +“‘Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us?’ + +“I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, my +hair is somewhat luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of chestnut. +It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of sacrificing it in +this offhand fashion. + +“‘I am afraid that that is quite impossible,’ said I. He had been +watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a shadow +pass over his face as I spoke. + +“‘I am afraid that it is quite essential,’ said he. ‘It is a little +fancy of my wife’s, and ladies’ fancies, you know, madam, ladies’ +fancies must be consulted. And so you won’t cut your hair?’ + +“‘No, sir, I really could not,’ I answered firmly. + +“‘Ah, very well; then that quite settles the matter. It is a pity, +because in other respects you would really have done very nicely. In +that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more of your young +ladies.’ + +“The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers without a +word to either of us, but she glanced at me now with so much annoyance +upon her face that I could not help suspecting that she had lost a +handsome commission through my refusal. + +“‘Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books?’ she asked. + +“‘If you please, Miss Stoper.’ + +“‘Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refuse the most +excellent offers in this fashion,’ said she sharply. ‘You can hardly +expect us to exert ourselves to find another such opening for you. +Good-day to you, Miss Hunter.’ She struck a gong upon the table, and I +was shown out by the page. + +“Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found little +enough in the cupboard, and two or three bills upon the table, I began +to ask myself whether I had not done a very foolish thing. After all, +if these people had strange fads and expected obedience on the most +extraordinary matters, they were at least ready to pay for their +eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting £ 100 a year. +Besides, what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by +wearing it short and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I +was inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day after I +was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go back to +the agency and inquire whether the place was still open when I received +this letter from the gentleman himself. I have it here and I will read +it to you: + +“‘The Copper Beeches, near Winchester. + + “‘DEAR MISS HUNTER,—Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your + address, and I write from here to ask you whether you have + reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you should + come, for she has been much attracted by my description of you. We + are willing to give £ 30 a quarter, or £ 120 a year, so as to + recompense you for any little inconvenience which our fads may + cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My wife is fond + of a particular shade of electric blue and would like you to wear + such a dress indoors in the morning. You need not, however, go to + the expense of purchasing one, as we have one belonging to my dear + daughter Alice (now in Philadelphia), which would, I should think, + fit you very well. Then, as to sitting here or there, or amusing + yourself in any manner indicated, that need cause you no + inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity, + especially as I could not help remarking its beauty during our + short interview, but I am afraid that I must remain firm upon this + point, and I only hope that the increased salary may recompense you + for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child is concerned, are + very light. Now do try to come, and I shall meet you with the + dog-cart at Winchester. Let me know your train. Yours faithfully, + + + “‘JEPHRO RUCASTLE.’ + + +“That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and my mind +is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, that before +taking the final step I should like to submit the whole matter to your +consideration.” + +“Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the +question,” said Holmes, smiling. + +“But you would not advise me to refuse?” + +“I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to see a +sister of mine apply for.” + +“What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?” + +“Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself formed +some opinion?” + +“Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. Rucastle +seemed to be a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not possible that his +wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the matter quiet for fear +she should be taken to an asylum, and that he humours her fancies in +every way in order to prevent an outbreak?” + +“That is a possible solution—in fact, as matters stand, it is the most +probable one. But in any case it does not seem to be a nice household +for a young lady.” + +“But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money!” + +“Well, yes, of course the pay is good—too good. That is what makes me +uneasy. Why should they give you £ 120 a year, when they could have +their pick for £ 40? There must be some strong reason behind.” + +“I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would understand +afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so much stronger if I +felt that you were at the back of me.” + +“Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that your +little problem promises to be the most interesting which has come my +way for some months. There is something distinctly novel about some of +the features. If you should find yourself in doubt or in danger—” + +“Danger! What danger do you foresee?” + +Holmes shook his head gravely. “It would cease to be a danger if we +could define it,” said he. “But at any time, day or night, a telegram +would bring me down to your help.” + +“That is enough.” She rose briskly from her chair with the anxiety all +swept from her face. “I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in my +mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once, sacrifice my poor hair +to-night, and start for Winchester to-morrow.” With a few grateful +words to Holmes she bade us both good-night and bustled off upon her +way. + +“At least,” said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descending the +stairs, “she seems to be a young lady who is very well able to take +care of herself.” + +“And she would need to be,” said Holmes gravely. “I am much mistaken if +we do not hear from her before many days are past.” + +It was not very long before my friend’s prediction was fulfilled. A +fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts turning +in her direction and wondering what strange side-alley of human +experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual salary, the +curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to something +abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot, or whether the man were a +philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond my powers to +determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently for half an +hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the +matter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. “Data! data! +data!” he cried impatiently. “I can’t make bricks without clay.” And +yet he would always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should +ever have accepted such a situation. + +The telegram which we eventually received came late one night just as I +was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down to one of those +all-night chemical researches which he frequently indulged in, when I +would leave him stooping over a retort and a test-tube at night and +find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast in the +morning. He opened the yellow envelope, and then, glancing at the +message, threw it across to me. + +“Just look up the trains in Bradshaw,” said he, and turned back to his +chemical studies. + +The summons was a brief and urgent one. + +“Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday to-morrow,” +it said. “Do come! I am at my wit’s end. + + +“HUNTER.” + + +“Will you come with me?” asked Holmes, glancing up. + +“I should wish to.” + +“Just look it up, then.” + +“There is a train at half-past nine,” said I, glancing over my +Bradshaw. “It is due at Winchester at 11:30.” + +“That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my +analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the +morning.” + +By eleven o’clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old +English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the +way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he threw them +down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a +light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across +from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was +an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a man’s energy. +All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, +the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings peeped out from +amid the light green of the new foliage. + +“Are they not fresh and beautiful?” I cried with all the enthusiasm of +a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street. + +But Holmes shook his head gravely. + +“Do you know, Watson,” said he, “that it is one of the curses of a mind +with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to +my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are +impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which +comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with +which crime may be committed there.” + +“Good heavens!” I cried. “Who would associate crime with these dear old +homesteads?” + +“They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, +founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London +do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and +beautiful countryside.” + +“You horrify me!” + +“But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do +in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile +that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard’s blow, +does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbours, and then +the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of +complaint can set it going, and there is but a step between the crime +and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, +filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know little of the +law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which +may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser. Had +this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I +should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of country +which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is not personally +threatened.” + +“No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away.” + +“Quite so. She has her freedom.” + +“What _can_ be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?” + +“I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover +the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct can +only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no doubt +find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the cathedral, and we +shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell.” + +The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no distance +from the station, and there we found the young lady waiting for us. She +had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch awaited us upon the table. + +“I am so delighted that you have come,” she said earnestly. “It is so +very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I should do. Your +advice will be altogether invaluable to me.” + +“Pray tell us what has happened to you.” + +“I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle to +be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this morning, +though he little knew for what purpose.” + +“Let us have everything in its due order.” Holmes thrust his long thin +legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen. + +“In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no +actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to +them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and I am not easy in my +mind about them.” + +“What can you not understand?” + +“Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just as it +occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me in +his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he said, beautifully +situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square +block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp +and bad weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides, and +on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton high road, +which curves past about a hundred yards from the front door. This +ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all round are part +of Lord Southerton’s preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately +in front of the hall door has given its name to the place. + +“I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and was +introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There was no +truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to us to be probable +in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is not mad. I found her to +be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her husband, not more +than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be less than +forty-five. From their conversation I have gathered that they have been +married about seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only +child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. +Mr. Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them +was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As the +daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite imagine that +her position must have been uncomfortable with her father’s young wife. + +“Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in +feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was a +nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted both to +her husband and to her little son. Her light grey eyes wandered +continually from one to the other, noting every little want and +forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her also in his bluff, +boisterous fashion, and on the whole they seemed to be a happy couple. +And yet she had some secret sorrow, this woman. She would often be lost +in deep thought, with the saddest look upon her face. More than once I +have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the +disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never +met so utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is +small for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. +His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between savage +fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any +creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and +he shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, +little birds, and insects. But I would rather not talk about the +creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he has little to do with my story.” + +“I am glad of all details,” remarked my friend, “whether they seem to +you to be relevant or not.” + +“I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant +thing about the house, which struck me at once, was the appearance and +conduct of the servants. There are only two, a man and his wife. +Toller, for that is his name, is a rough, uncouth man, with grizzled +hair and whiskers, and a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have +been with them he has been quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed to +take no notice of it. His wife is a very tall and strong woman with a +sour face, as silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less amiable. They are a +most unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in the +nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one corner of +the building. + +“For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was very +quiet; on the third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after breakfast and +whispered something to her husband. + +“‘Oh, yes,’ said he, turning to me, ‘we are very much obliged to you, +Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. +I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest iota from your +appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue dress will become +you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you +would be so good as to put it on we should both be extremely obliged.’ + +“The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of +blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it bore +unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not have been a +better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle +expressed a delight at the look of it, which seemed quite exaggerated +in its vehemence. They were waiting for me in the drawing-room, which +is a very large room, stretching along the entire front of the house, +with three long windows reaching down to the floor. A chair had been +placed close to the central window, with its back turned towards it. In +this I was asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down on +the other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest +stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he +was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. Rucastle, however, who +has evidently no sense of humour, never so much as smiled, but sat with +her hands in her lap, and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an +hour or so, Mr. Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence +the duties of the day, and that I might change my dress and go to +little Edward in the nursery. + +“Two days later this same performance was gone through under exactly +similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I sat in the +window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny stories of which +my employer had an immense _répertoire_, and which he told inimitably. +Then he handed me a yellow-backed novel, and moving my chair a little +sideways, that my own shadow might not fall upon the page, he begged me +to read aloud to him. I read for about ten minutes, beginning in the +heart of a chapter, and then suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he +ordered me to cease and to change my dress. + +“You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to what +the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly be. They +were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from the +window, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was going +on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soon +devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought +seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. On +the next occasion, in the midst of my laughter, I put my handkerchief +up to my eyes, and was able with a little management to see all that +there was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed. There was +nothing. At least that was my first impression. At the second glance, +however, I perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton +Road, a small bearded man in a grey suit, who seemed to be looking in +my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are usually +people there. This man, however, was leaning against the railings which +bordered our field and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my +handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to find her eyes fixed upon +me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am convinced +that she had divined that I had a mirror in my hand and had seen what +was behind me. She rose at once. + +“‘Jephro,’ said she, ‘there is an impertinent fellow upon the road +there who stares up at Miss Hunter.’ + +“‘No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?’ he asked. + +“‘No, I know no one in these parts.’ + +“‘Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to him to +go away.’ + +“‘Surely it would be better to take no notice.’ + +“‘No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn round +and wave him away like that.’ + +“I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew down +the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have not sat again +in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor seen the man in the +road.” + +“Pray continue,” said Holmes. “Your narrative promises to be a most +interesting one.” + +“You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to +be little relation between the different incidents of which I speak. On +the very first day that I was at the Copper Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took +me to a small outhouse which stands near the kitchen door. As we +approached it I heard the sharp rattling of a chain, and the sound as +of a large animal moving about. + +“‘Look in here!’ said Mr. Rucastle, showing me a slit between two +planks. ‘Is he not a beauty?’ + +“I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a vague +figure huddled up in the darkness. + +“‘Don’t be frightened,’ said my employer, laughing at the start which I +had given. ‘It’s only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but really +old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. We +feed him once a day, and not too much then, so that he is always as +keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God help the +trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness’ sake don’t you +ever on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at night, for it’s +as much as your life is worth.’ + +“The warning was no idle one, for two nights later I happened to look +out of my bedroom window about two o’clock in the morning. It was a +beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the house was +silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was standing, rapt in the +peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware that something was +moving under the shadow of the copper beeches. As it emerged into the +moonshine I saw what it was. It was a giant dog, as large as a calf, +tawny tinted, with hanging jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting +bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the shadow +upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart +which I do not think that any burglar could have done. + +“And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you +know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a great coil at +the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the child was in bed, I +began to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my room and by +rearranging my own little things. There was an old chest of drawers in +the room, the two upper ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I +had filled the first two with my linen, and as I had still much to pack +away I was naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third drawer. +It struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere oversight, so I +took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very first key +fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one +thing in it, but I am sure that you would never guess what it was. It +was my coil of hair. + +“I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint, and +the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded +itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in the drawer? With +trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the contents, and drew +from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two tresses together, and I +assure you that they were identical. Was it not extraordinary? Puzzle +as I would, I could make nothing at all of what it meant. I returned +the strange hair to the drawer, and I said nothing of the matter to the +Rucastles as I felt that I had put myself in the wrong by opening a +drawer which they had locked. + +“I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, and I +soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. There was +one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door +which faced that which led into the quarters of the Tollers opened into +this suite, but it was invariably locked. One day, however, as I +ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rucastle coming out through this door, +his keys in his hand, and a look on his face which made him a very +different person to the round, jovial man to whom I was accustomed. His +cheeks were red, his brow was all crinkled with anger, and the veins +stood out at his temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried +past me without a word or a look. + +“This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the +grounds with my charge, I strolled round to the side from which I could +see the windows of this part of the house. There were four of them in a +row, three of which were simply dirty, while the fourth was shuttered +up. They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled up and down, +glancing at them occasionally, Mr. Rucastle came out to me, looking as +merry and jovial as ever. + +“‘Ah!’ said he, ‘you must not think me rude if I passed you without a +word, my dear young lady. I was preoccupied with business matters.’ + +“I assured him that I was not offended. ‘By the way,’ said I, ‘you seem +to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them has the +shutters up.’ + +“He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me, a little startled at my +remark. + +“‘Photography is one of my hobbies,’ said he. ‘I have made my dark room +up there. But, dear me! what an observant young lady we have come upon. +Who would have believed it? Who would have ever believed it?’ He spoke +in a jesting tone, but there was no jest in his eyes as he looked at +me. I read suspicion there and annoyance, but no jest. + +“Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there was +something about that suite of rooms which I was not to know, I was all +on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, though I have my +share of that. It was more a feeling of duty—a feeling that some good +might come from my penetrating to this place. They talk of woman’s +instinct; perhaps it was woman’s instinct which gave me that feeling. +At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly on the lookout for any +chance to pass the forbidden door. + +“It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, +besides Mr. Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find something to do in +these deserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large black linen +bag with him through the door. Recently he has been drinking hard, and +yesterday evening he was very drunk; and when I came upstairs there was +the key in the door. I have no doubt at all that he had left it there. +Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were both downstairs, and the child was with +them, so that I had an admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently +in the lock, opened the door, and slipped through. + +“There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and uncarpeted, +which turned at a right angle at the farther end. Round this corner +were three doors in a line, the first and third of which were open. +They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless, with two windows +in the one and one in the other, so thick with dirt that the evening +light glimmered dimly through them. The centre door was closed, and +across the outside of it had been fastened one of the broad bars of an +iron bed, padlocked at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened at +the other with stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and the +key was not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the +shuttered window outside, and yet I could see by the glimmer from +beneath it that the room was not in darkness. Evidently there was a +skylight which let in light from above. As I stood in the passage +gazing at the sinister door and wondering what secret it might veil, I +suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room and saw a shadow pass +backward and forward against the little slit of dim light which shone +out from under the door. A mad, unreasoning terror rose up in me at the +sight, Mr. Holmes. My overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I +turned and ran—ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me +clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through +the door, and straight into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting +outside. + +“‘So,’ said he, smiling, ‘it was you, then. I thought that it must be +when I saw the door open.’ + +“‘Oh, I am so frightened!’ I panted. + +“‘My dear young lady! my dear young lady!’—you cannot think how +caressing and soothing his manner was—‘and what has frightened you, my +dear young lady?’ + +“But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was +keenly on my guard against him. + +“‘I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing,’ I answered. ‘But it +is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was frightened and ran +out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still in there!’ + +“‘Only that?’ said he, looking at me keenly. + +“‘Why, what did you think?’ I asked. + +“‘Why do you think that I lock this door?’ + +“‘I am sure that I do not know.’ + +“‘It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you see?’ He +was still smiling in the most amiable manner. + +“‘I am sure if I had known—’ + +“‘Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that +threshold again’—here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of +rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon—‘I’ll throw you +to the mastiff.’ + +“I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that I +must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing until I +found myself lying on my bed trembling all over. Then I thought of you, +Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without some advice. I was +frightened of the house, of the man, of the woman, of the servants, +even of the child. They were all horrible to me. If I could only bring +you down all would be well. Of course I might have fled from the house, +but my curiosity was almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon +made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went down +to the office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then +returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my mind +as I approached the door lest the dog might be loose, but I remembered +that Toller had drunk himself into a state of insensibility that +evening, and I knew that he was the only one in the household who had +any influence with the savage creature, or who would venture to set him +free. I slipped in in safety and lay awake half the night in my joy at +the thought of seeing you. I had no difficulty in getting leave to come +into Winchester this morning, but I must be back before three o’clock, +for Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are going on a visit, and will be away all +the evening, so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you +all my adventures, Mr. Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could +tell me what it all means, and, above all, what I should do.” + +Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. My +friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in his +pockets, and an expression of the most profound gravity upon his face. + +“Is Toller still drunk?” he asked. + +“Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she could do nothing +with him.” + +“That is well. And the Rucastles go out to-night?” + +“Yes.” + +“Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?” + +“Yes, the wine-cellar.” + +“You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very brave +and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could perform one +more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not think you a quite +exceptional woman.” + +“I will try. What is it?” + +“We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o’clock, my friend and I. +The Rucastles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be +incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might give the alarm. If +you could send her into the cellar on some errand, and then turn the +key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely.” + +“I will do it.” + +“Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of course +there is only one feasible explanation. You have been brought there to +personate someone, and the real person is imprisoned in this chamber. +That is obvious. As to who this prisoner is, I have no doubt that it is +the daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said to +have gone to America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in +height, figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, +very possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of +course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious chance you came +upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some friend of +hers—possibly her _fiancé_—and no doubt, as you wore the girl’s dress +and were so like her, he was convinced from your laughter, whenever he +saw you, and afterwards from your gesture, that Miss Rucastle was +perfectly happy, and that she no longer desired his attentions. The dog +is let loose at night to prevent him from endeavouring to communicate +with her. So much is fairly clear. The most serious point in the case +is the disposition of the child.” + +“What on earth has that to do with it?” I ejaculated. + +“My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light as +to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don’t you see +that the converse is equally valid. I have frequently gained my first +real insight into the character of parents by studying their children. +This child’s disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty’s +sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should +suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in +their power.” + +“I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes,” cried our client. “A +thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you have hit +it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to this poor +creature.” + +“We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning man. We +can do nothing until seven o’clock. At that hour we shall be with you, +and it will not be long before we solve the mystery.” + +We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we reached the +Copper Beeches, having put up our trap at a wayside public-house. The +group of trees, with their dark leaves shining like burnished metal in +the light of the setting sun, were sufficient to mark the house even +had Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the door-step. + +“Have you managed it?” asked Holmes. + +A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. “That is Mrs. +Toller in the cellar,” said she. “Her husband lies snoring on the +kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of Mr. +Rucastle’s.” + +“You have done well indeed!” cried Holmes with enthusiasm. “Now lead +the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black business.” + +We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a passage, +and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had +described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the transverse bar. Then he +tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. No sound came +from within, and at the silence Holmes’ face clouded over. + +“I trust that we are not too late,” said he. “I think, Miss Hunter, +that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder to +it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in.” + +It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united strength. +Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There was no furniture +save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a basketful of linen. The +skylight above was open, and the prisoner gone. + +“There has been some villainy here,” said Holmes; “this beauty has +guessed Miss Hunter’s intentions and has carried his victim off.” + +“But how?” + +“Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it.” He swung +himself up onto the roof. “Ah, yes,” he cried, “here’s the end of a +long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did it.” + +“But it is impossible,” said Miss Hunter; “the ladder was not there +when the Rucastles went away.” + +“He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and +dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were he +whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would be +as well for you to have your pistol ready.” + +The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the +door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy stick in his +hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the wall at the sight of +him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and confronted him. + +“You villain!” said he, “where’s your daughter?” + +The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open skylight. + +“It is for me to ask you that,” he shrieked, “you thieves! Spies and +thieves! I have caught you, have I? You are in my power. I’ll serve +you!” He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go. + +“He’s gone for the dog!” cried Miss Hunter. + +“I have my revolver,” said I. + +“Better close the front door,” cried Holmes, and we all rushed down the +stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the +baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible worrying +sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderly man with a red +face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door. + +“My God!” he cried. “Someone has loosed the dog. It’s not been fed for +two days. Quick, quick, or it’ll be too late!” + +Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller +hurrying behind us. There was the huge famished brute, its black muzzle +buried in Rucastle’s throat, while he writhed and screamed upon the +ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over with its +keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck. With +much labour we separated them and carried him, living but horribly +mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing-room sofa, and +having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to his wife, I +did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him +when the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room. + +“Mrs. Toller!” cried Miss Hunter. + +“Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went up +to you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn’t let me know what you were +planning, for I would have told you that your pains were wasted.” + +“Ha!” said Holmes, looking keenly at her. “It is clear that Mrs. Toller +knows more about this matter than anyone else.” + +“Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know.” + +“Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several points +on which I must confess that I am still in the dark.” + +“I will soon make it clear to you,” said she; “and I’d have done so +before now if I could ha’ got out from the cellar. If there’s +police-court business over this, you’ll remember that I was the one +that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice’s friend too. + +“She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn’t, from the time that her +father married again. She was slighted like and had no say in anything, +but it never really became bad for her until after she met Mr. Fowler +at a friend’s house. As well as I could learn, Miss Alice had rights of +her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient, she was, that she +never said a word about them but just left everything in Mr. Rucastle’s +hands. He knew he was safe with her; but when there was a chance of a +husband coming forward, who would ask for all that the law would give +him, then her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her +to sign a paper, so that whether she married or not, he could use her +money. When she wouldn’t do it, he kept on worrying her until she got +brain-fever, and for six weeks was at death’s door. Then she got better +at last, all worn to a shadow, and with her beautiful hair cut off; but +that didn’t make no change in her young man, and he stuck to her as +true as man could be.” + +“Ah,” said Holmes, “I think that what you have been good enough to tell +us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all that +remains. Mr. Rucastle then, I presume, took to this system of +imprisonment?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of the +disagreeable persistence of Mr. Fowler.” + +“That was it, sir.” + +“But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should be, +blockaded the house, and having met you succeeded by certain arguments, +metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your interests were the +same as his.” + +“Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken, free-handed gentleman,” said Mrs. +Toller serenely. + +“And in this way he managed that your good man should have no want of +drink, and that a ladder should be ready at the moment when your master +had gone out.” + +“You have it, sir, just as it happened.” + +“I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller,” said Holmes, “for you +have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here comes +the country surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so I think, Watson, that we had +best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, as it seems to me that our +_locus standi_ now is rather a questionable one.” + +And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the copper +beeches in front of the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but was always a +broken man, kept alive solely through the care of his devoted wife. +They still live with their old servants, who probably know so much of +Rucastle’s past life that he finds it difficult to part from them. Mr. +Fowler and Miss Rucastle were married, by special license, in +Southampton the day after their flight, and he is now the holder of a +government appointment in the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet +Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no +further interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of +one of his problems, and she is now the head of a private school at +Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK +HOLMES *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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