13772 lines
627 KiB
Plaintext
13772 lines
627 KiB
Plaintext
Project Gutenberg's Return of Sherlock Holmes [Magazine Edition]
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The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle
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February, 1995 [Etext #221B]
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Project Gutenberg's Return of Sherlock Holmes [Magazine Edition]
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--------------------------------------------------------------
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This edition of _The Return of Sherlock Holmes_ rholm10a.txt
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is based on the PG etext rholm10.txt (prepared by Charles Keller
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keller@ra.msstate.edu from a 1905 Doubleday-Collier edition)
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and proof-read so as to duplicate the original publication
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of these stories (using facsimiles) in The Strand Magazine
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by Joanne Brown brownjm@admin1.unbsj.ca, Frank Sadowski
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fsdw@db1.cc.rochester.edu, & Roger Squires rsquires@unm.edu.
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Thanks also to The Hounds of the Internet (blocka@beloit.edu
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for more info) for their assistance and encouragement.
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--------------------------------------------------------------
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THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
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By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
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I. -- The Adventure of the Empty House.
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IT was in the spring of the year 1894 that all London was
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interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by the murder of
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the Honourable Ronald Adair under most unusual and inexplicable
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circumstances. The public has already learned those particulars
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of the crime which came out in the police investigation; but a
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good deal was suppressed upon that occasion, since the case for
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the prosecution was so overwhelmingly strong that it was not
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necessary to bring forward all the facts. Only now, at the end
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of nearly ten years, am I allowed to supply those missing links
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which make up the whole of that remarkable chain. The crime was
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of interest in itself, but that interest was as nothing to me
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compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the
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greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life.
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Even now, after this long interval, I find myself thrilling as
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I think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of joy,
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amazement, and incredulity which utterly submerged my mind.
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Let me say to that public which has shown some interest in those
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glimpses which I have occasionally given them of the thoughts
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and actions of a very remarkable man that they are not to blame
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me if I have not shared my knowledge with them, for I should
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have considered it my first duty to have done so had I not been
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barred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, which was
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only withdrawn upon the third of last month.
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It can be imagined that my close intimacy with Sherlock Holmes
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had interested me deeply in crime, and that after his
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disappearance I never failed to read with care the various
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problems which came before the public, and I even attempted more
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than once for my own private satisfaction to employ his methods
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in their solution, though with indifferent success. There was
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none, however, which appealed to me like this tragedy of Ronald
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Adair. As I read the evidence at the inquest, which led up to
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a verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons
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unknown, I realized more clearly than I had ever done the loss
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which the community had sustained by the death of Sherlock
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Holmes. There were points about this strange business which
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would, I was sure, have specially appealed to him, and the
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efforts of the police would have been supplemented, or more
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probably anticipated, by the trained observation and the alert
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mind of the first criminal agent in Europe. All day as I drove
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upon my round I turned over the case in my mind, and found no
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explanation which appeared to me to be adequate. At the risk of
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telling a twice-told tale I will recapitulate the facts as they
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were known to the public at the conclusion of the inquest.
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The Honourable Ronald Adair was the second son of the Earl
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of Maynooth, at that time Governor of one of the Australian
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Colonies. Adair's mother had returned from Australia to
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undergo the operation for cataract, and she, her son Ronald,
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and her daughter Hilda were living together at 427, Park Lane.
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The youth moved in the best society, had, so far as was known,
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no enemies, and no particular vices. He had been engaged to Miss
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Edith Woodley, of Carstairs, but the engagement had been broken
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off by mutual consent some months before, and there was no sign
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that it had left any very profound feeling behind it. For the
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rest the man's life moved in a narrow and conventional circle,
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for his habits were quiet and his nature unemotional. Yet it
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was upon this easy-going young aristocrat that death came in
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most strange and unexpected form between the hours of ten and
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eleven-twenty on the night of March 30, 1894.
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Ronald Adair was fond of cards, playing continually, but never
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for such stakes as would hurt him. He was a member of the
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Baldwin, the Cavendish, and the Bagatelle card clubs. It was
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shown that after dinner on the day of his death he had played
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a rubber of whist at the latter club. He had also played there
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in the afternoon. The evidence of those who had played with him
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-- Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran -- showed that
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the game was whist, and that there was a fairly equal fall of
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the cards. Adair might have lost five pounds, but not more.
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His fortune was a considerable one, and such a loss could not in
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any way affect him. He had played nearly every day at one club
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or other, but he was a cautious player, and usually rose a winner.
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It came out in evidence that in partnership with Colonel Moran
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he had actually won as much as four hundred and twenty pounds in
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a sitting some weeks before from Godfrey Milner and Lord Balmoral.
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So much for his recent history, as it came out at the inquest.
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On the evening of the crime he returned from the club exactly at
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ten. His mother and sister were out spending the evening with a
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relation. The servant deposed that she heard him enter the front
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room on the second floor, generally used as his sitting-room.
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She had lit a fire there, and as it smoked she had opened the window.
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No sound was heard from the room until eleven-twenty, the hour of
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the return of Lady Maynooth and her daughter. Desiring to say
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good-night, she had attempted to enter her son's room. The door
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was locked on the inside, and no answer could be got to their
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cries and knocking. Help was obtained and the door forced.
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The unfortunate young man was found lying near the table.
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His head had been horribly mutilated by an expanding revolver
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bullet, but no weapon of any sort was to be found in the room.
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On the table lay two bank-notes for ten pounds each and seventeen
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pounds ten in silver and gold, the money arranged in little piles
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of varying amount. There were some figures also upon a sheet of
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paper with the names of some club friends opposite to them,
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from which it was conjectured that before his death he was
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endeavouring to make out his losses or winnings at cards.
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A minute examination of the circumstances served only to make
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the case more complex. In the first place, no reason could be
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given why the young man should have fastened the door upon the
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inside. There was the possibility that the murderer had done
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this and had afterwards escaped by the window. The drop was at
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least twenty feet, however, and a bed of crocuses in full bloom
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lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earth showed any sign
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of having been disturbed, nor were there any marks upon the
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narrow strip of grass which separated the house from the road.
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Apparently, therefore, it was the young man himself who had
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fastened the door. But how did he come by his death?
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No one could have climbed up to the window without leaving traces.
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Suppose a man had fired through the window, it would indeed be a
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remarkable shot who could with a revolver inflict so deadly a
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wound. Again, Park Lane is a frequented thoroughfare, and there
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is a cab-stand within a hundred yards of the house. No one had
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|
heard a shot. And yet there was the dead man, and there the
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revolver bullet, which had mushroomed out, as soft-nosed bullets
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will, and so inflicted a wound which must have caused
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instantaneous death. Such were the circumstances of the Park
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Lane Mystery, which were further complicated by entire absence
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of motive, since, as I have said, young Adair was not known to
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have any enemy, and no attempt had been made to remove the money
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or valuables in the room.
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All day I turned these facts over in my mind, endeavouring to
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|
hit upon some theory which could reconcile them all, and to find
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that line of least resistance which my poor friend had declared
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to be the starting-point of every investigation. I confess that
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I made little progress. In the evening I strolled across the
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Park, and found myself about six o'clock at the Oxford Street
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end of Park Lane. A group of loafers upon the pavements, all
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staring up at a particular window, directed me to the house
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which I had come to see. A tall, thin man with coloured
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glasses, whom I strongly suspected of being a plain-clothes
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|
detective, was pointing out some theory of his own, while the
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|
others crowded round to listen to what he said. I got as near
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him as I could, but his observations seemed to me to be absurd,
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|
so I withdrew again in some disgust. As I did so I struck
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|
against an elderly deformed man, who had been behind me, and I
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|
knocked down several books which he was carrying. I remember
|
|
that as I picked them up I observed the title of one of them,
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"The Origin of Tree Worship," and it struck me that the fellow
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must be some poor bibliophile who, either as a trade or as a
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|
hobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. I endeavoured to
|
|
apologize for the accident, but it was evident that these books
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which I had so unfortunately maltreated were very precious
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objects in the eyes of their owner. With a snarl of contempt
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he turned upon his heel, and I saw his curved back and white
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side-whiskers disappear among the throng.
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My observations of No. 427, Park Lane did little to clear up the
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problem in which I was interested. The house was separated from
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the street by a low wall and railing, the whole not more than
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five feet high. It was perfectly easy, therefore, for anyone
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to get into the garden, but the window was entirely inaccessible,
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|
since there was no water-pipe or anything which could help the
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|
most active man to climb it. More puzzled than ever I retraced
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my steps to Kensington. I had not been in my study five minutes
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|
when the maid entered to say that a person desired to see me.
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|
To my astonishment it was none other than my strange old
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book-collector, his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame
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of white hair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at least,
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wedged under his right arm.
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"You're surprised to see me, sir," said he, in a strange,
|
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croaking voice.
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I acknowledged that I was.
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"Well, I've a conscience, sir, and when I chanced to see you go
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into this house, as I came hobbling after you, I thought to myself,
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|
I'll just step in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that
|
|
if I was a bit gruff in my manner there was not any harm meant,
|
|
and that I am much obliged to him for picking up my books."
|
|
|
|
"You make too much of a trifle," said I. "May I ask how you
|
|
knew who I was?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, sir, if it isn't too great a liberty, I am a neighbour
|
|
of yours, for you'll find my little bookshop at the corner of
|
|
Church Street, and very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you
|
|
collect yourself, sir; here's `British Birds,' and `Catullus,'
|
|
and `The Holy War' -- a bargain every one of them. With five
|
|
volumes you could just fill that gap on that second shelf.
|
|
It looks untidy, does it not, sir?"
|
|
|
|
I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned
|
|
again Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my
|
|
study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds
|
|
in utter amazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted
|
|
for the first and the last time in my life. Certainly a grey
|
|
mist swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my
|
|
collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste of brandy upon
|
|
my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in his hand.
|
|
|
|
"My dear Watson," said the well-remembered voice, "I owe you a
|
|
thousand apologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected."
|
|
|
|
I gripped him by the arm.
|
|
|
|
"Holmes!" I cried. "Is it really you? Can it indeed be that
|
|
you are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing
|
|
out of that awful abyss?"
|
|
|
|
"Wait a moment," said he. "Are you sure that you are really
|
|
fit to discuss things? I have given you a serious shock by my
|
|
unnecessarily dramatic reappearance."
|
|
|
|
"I am all right, but indeed, Holmes, I can hardly believe my
|
|
eyes. Good heavens, to think that you -- you of all men --
|
|
should be standing in my study!" Again I gripped him by the
|
|
sleeve and felt the thin, sinewy arm beneath it. "Well, you're
|
|
not a spirit, anyhow," said I. "My dear chap, I am overjoyed
|
|
to see you. Sit down and tell me how you came alive out of
|
|
that dreadful chasm."
|
|
|
|
He sat opposite to me and lit a cigarette in his old nonchalant
|
|
manner. He was dressed in the seedy frock-coat of the book
|
|
merchant, but the rest of that individual lay in a pile of white
|
|
hair and old books upon the table. Holmes looked even thinner
|
|
and keener than of old, but there was a dead-white tinge in his
|
|
aquiline face which told me that his life recently had not been
|
|
a healthy one.
|
|
|
|
"I am glad to stretch myself, Watson," said he. "It is no joke
|
|
when a tall man has to take a foot off his stature for several
|
|
hours on end. Now, my dear fellow, in the matter of these
|
|
explanations we have, if I may ask for your co-operation, a hard
|
|
and dangerous night's work in front of us. Perhaps it would be
|
|
better if I gave you an account of the whole situation when that
|
|
work is finished."
|
|
|
|
"I am full of curiosity. I should much prefer to hear now."
|
|
|
|
"You'll come with me to-night?"
|
|
|
|
"When you like and where you like."
|
|
|
|
"This is indeed like the old days. We shall have time for a
|
|
mouthful of dinner before we need go. Well, then, about that
|
|
chasm. I had no serious difficulty in getting out of it, for
|
|
the very simple reason that I never was in it."
|
|
|
|
"You never were in it?"
|
|
|
|
"No, Watson, I never was in it. My note to you was absolutely
|
|
genuine. I had little doubt that I had come to the end of my
|
|
career when I perceived the somewhat sinister figure of the late
|
|
Professor Moriarty standing upon the narrow pathway which led to
|
|
safety. I read an inexorable purpose in his grey eyes.
|
|
I exchanged some remarks with him, therefore, and obtained his
|
|
courteous permission to write the short note which you
|
|
afterwards received. I left it with my cigarette-box and my
|
|
stick and I walked along the pathway, Moriarty still at my
|
|
heels. When I reached the end I stood at bay. He drew no
|
|
weapon, but he rushed at me and threw his long arms around me.
|
|
He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to
|
|
revenge himself upon me. We tottered together upon the brink
|
|
of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the
|
|
Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been very
|
|
useful to me. I slipped through his grip, and he with a
|
|
horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds and clawed the
|
|
air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not
|
|
get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink
|
|
I saw him fall for a long way. Then he struck a rock, bounded
|
|
off, and splashed into the water."
|
|
|
|
I listened with amazement to this explanation, which Holmes
|
|
delivered between the puffs of his cigarette.
|
|
|
|
"But the tracks!" I cried. "I saw with my own eyes that two
|
|
went down the path and none returned."
|
|
|
|
"It came about in this way. The instant that the Professor had
|
|
disappeared it struck me what a really extraordinarily lucky
|
|
chance Fate had placed in my way. I knew that Moriarty was not
|
|
the only man who had sworn my death. There were at least three
|
|
others whose desire for vengeance upon me would only be
|
|
increased by the death of their leader. They were all most
|
|
dangerous men. One or other would certainly get me. On the
|
|
other hand, if all the world was convinced that I was dead they
|
|
would take liberties, these men, they would lay themselves open,
|
|
and sooner or later I could destroy them. Then it would be time
|
|
for me to announce that I was still in the land of the living.
|
|
So rapidly does the brain act that I believe I had thought this
|
|
all out before Professor Moriarty had reached the bottom
|
|
of the Reichenbach Fall.
|
|
|
|
"I stood up and examined the rocky wall behind me. In your
|
|
picturesque account of the matter, which I read with great
|
|
interest some months later, you assert that the wall was sheer.
|
|
This was not literally true. A few small footholds presented
|
|
themselves, and there was some indication of a ledge. The cliff
|
|
is so high that to climb it all was an obvious impossibility,
|
|
and it was equally impossible to make my way along the wet path
|
|
without leaving some tracks. I might, it is true, have reversed
|
|
my boots, as I have done on similar occasions, but the sight of
|
|
three sets of tracks in one direction would certainly have
|
|
suggested a deception. On the whole, then, it was best that I
|
|
should risk the climb. It was not a pleasant business, Watson.
|
|
The fall roared beneath me. I am not a fanciful person, but
|
|
I give you my word that I seemed to hear Moriarty's voice
|
|
screaming at me out of the abyss. A mistake would have been fatal.
|
|
More than once, as tufts of grass came out in my hand or my foot
|
|
slipped in the wet notches of the rock, I thought that I was gone.
|
|
But I struggled upwards, and at last I reached a ledge several feet
|
|
deep and covered with soft green moss, where I could lie unseen
|
|
in the most perfect comfort. There I was stretched when you,
|
|
my dear Watson, and all your following were investigating in the most
|
|
sympathetic and inefficient manner the circumstances of my death.
|
|
|
|
"At last, when you had all formed your inevitable and totally
|
|
erroneous conclusions, you departed for the hotel and I was left
|
|
alone. I had imagined that I had reached the end of my adventures,
|
|
but a very unexpected occurrence showed me that there were
|
|
surprises still in store for me. A huge rock, falling from above,
|
|
boomed past me, struck the path, and bounded over into the chasm.
|
|
For an instant I thought that it was an accident; but a moment later,
|
|
looking up, I saw a man's head against the darkening sky, and
|
|
another stone struck the very ledge upon which I was stretched,
|
|
within a foot of my head. Of course, the meaning of this was obvious.
|
|
Moriarty had not been alone. A confederate -- and even that one
|
|
glance had told me how dangerous a man that confederate was --
|
|
had kept guard while the Professor had attacked me. From a distance,
|
|
unseen by me, he had been a witness of his friend's death and of my
|
|
escape. He had waited, and then, making his way round to the top of
|
|
the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had failed.
|
|
|
|
"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw
|
|
that grim face look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the
|
|
precursor of another stone. I scrambled down on to the path.
|
|
I don't think I could have done it in cold blood. It was a
|
|
hundred times more difficult than getting up. But I had no time
|
|
to think of the danger, for another stone sang past me as I hung
|
|
by my hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfway down I slipped,
|
|
but by the blessing of God I landed, torn and bleeding, upon the
|
|
path. I took to my heels, did ten miles over the mountains in
|
|
the darkness, and a week later I found myself in Florence with the
|
|
certainty that no one in the world knew what had become of me.
|
|
|
|
"I had only one confidant -- my brother Mycroft. I owe you many
|
|
apologies, my dear Watson, but it was all-important that it
|
|
should be thought I was dead, and it is quite certain that you
|
|
would not have written so convincing an account of my unhappy
|
|
end had you not yourself thought that it was true. Several
|
|
times during the last three years I have taken up my pen to
|
|
write to you, but always I feared lest your affectionate regard
|
|
for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betray
|
|
my secret. For that reason I turned away from you this evening
|
|
when you upset my books, for I was in danger at the time, and
|
|
any show of surprise and emotion upon your part might have drawn
|
|
attention to my identity and led to the most deplorable and
|
|
irreparable results. As to Mycroft, I had to confide in him in
|
|
order to obtain the money which I needed. The course of events
|
|
in London did not run so well as I had hoped, for the trial of
|
|
the Moriarty gang left two of its most dangerous members, my own
|
|
most vindictive enemies, at liberty. I travelled for two years
|
|
in Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhassa and
|
|
spending some days with the head Llama. You may have read of
|
|
the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but
|
|
I am sure that it never occurred to you that you were receiving
|
|
news of your friend. I then passed through Persia, looked in at
|
|
Mecca, and paid a short but interesting visit to the Khalifa at
|
|
Khartoum, the results of which I have communicated to the
|
|
Foreign Office. Returning to France I spent some months in a
|
|
research into the coal-tar derivatives, which I conducted in a
|
|
laboratory at Montpelier, in the South of France. Having
|
|
concluded this to my satisfaction, and learning that only one of
|
|
my enemies was now left in London, I was about to return when my
|
|
movements were hastened by the news of this very remarkable Park
|
|
Lane Mystery, which not only appealed to me by its own merits,
|
|
but which seemed to offer some most peculiar personal
|
|
opportunities. I came over at once to London, called in my own
|
|
person at Baker Street, threw Mrs. Hudson into violent hysterics,
|
|
and found that Mycroft had preserved my rooms and my papers
|
|
exactly as they had always been. So it was, my dear Watson,
|
|
that at two o'clock to-day I found myself in my old arm-chair in
|
|
my own old room, and only wishing that I could have seen my old
|
|
friend Watson in the other chair which he has so often adorned."
|
|
|
|
Such was the remarkable narrative to which I listened on that
|
|
April evening -- a narrative which would have been utterly
|
|
incredible to me had it not been confirmed by the actual sight
|
|
of the tall, spare figure and the keen, eager face, which I had
|
|
never thought to see again. In some manner he had learned of my
|
|
own sad bereavement, and his sympathy was shown in his manner
|
|
rather than in his words. "Work is the best antidote to sorrow,
|
|
my dear Watson," said he, "and I have a piece of work for us
|
|
both to-night which, if we can bring it to a successful
|
|
conclusion, will in itself justify a man's life on this planet."
|
|
In vain I begged him to tell me more. "You will hear and see
|
|
enough before morning," he answered. "We have three years of
|
|
the past to discuss. Let that suffice until half-past nine,
|
|
when we start upon the notable adventure of the empty house."
|
|
|
|
It was indeed like old times when, at that hour, I found myself
|
|
seated beside him in a hansom, my revolver in my pocket and the
|
|
thrill of adventure in my heart. Holmes was cold and stern and
|
|
silent. As the gleam of the street-lamps flashed upon his
|
|
austere features I saw that his brows were drawn down in thought
|
|
and his thin lips compressed. I knew not what wild beast we
|
|
were about to hunt down in the dark jungle of criminal London,
|
|
but I was well assured from the bearing of this master huntsman
|
|
that the adventure was a most grave one, while the sardonic
|
|
smile which occasionally broke through his ascetic gloom boded
|
|
little good for the object of our quest.
|
|
|
|
I had imagined that we were bound for Baker Street, but Holmes
|
|
stopped the cab at the corner of Cavendish Square. I observed
|
|
that as he stepped out he gave a most searching glance to right
|
|
and left, and at every subsequent street corner he took the
|
|
utmost pains to assure that he was not followed. Our route was
|
|
certainly a singular one. Holmes's knowledge of the byways of
|
|
London was extraordinary, and on this occasion he passed rapidly,
|
|
and with an assured step, through a network of mews and stables
|
|
the very existence of which I had never known. We emerged at
|
|
last into a small road, lined with old, gloomy houses, which led
|
|
us into Manchester Street, and so to Blandford Street. Here he
|
|
turned swiftly down a narrow passage, passed through a wooden
|
|
gate into a deserted yard, and then opened with a key the back
|
|
door of a house. We entered together and he closed it behind us.
|
|
|
|
The place was pitch-dark, but it was evident to me that it was
|
|
an empty house. Our feet creaked and crackled over the bare
|
|
planking, and my outstretched hand touched a wall from which the
|
|
paper was hanging in ribbons. Holmes's cold, thin fingers
|
|
closed round my wrist and led me forwards down a long hall,
|
|
until I dimly saw the murky fanlight over the door. Here Holmes
|
|
turned suddenly to the right, and we found ourselves in a large,
|
|
square, empty room, heavily shadowed in the corners, but faintly
|
|
lit in the centre from the lights of the street beyond. There was
|
|
no lamp near and the window was thick with dust, so that we could
|
|
only just discern each other's figures within. My companion put
|
|
his hand upon my shoulder and his lips close to my ear.
|
|
|
|
"Do you know where we are?" he whispered.
|
|
|
|
"Surely that is Baker Street," I answered, staring through the
|
|
dim window.
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. We are in Camden House, which stands opposite to our
|
|
own old quarters."
|
|
|
|
"But why are we here?"
|
|
|
|
"Because it commands so excellent a view of that picturesque pile.
|
|
Might I trouble you, my dear Watson, to draw a little nearer to
|
|
the window, taking every precaution not to show yourself,
|
|
and then to look up at our old rooms -- the starting-point of so
|
|
many of our little adventures? We will see if my three years of
|
|
absence have entirely taken away my power to surprise you."
|
|
|
|
I crept forward and looked across at the familiar window.
|
|
As my eyes fell upon it I gave a gasp and a cry of amazement.
|
|
The blind was down and a strong light was burning in the room.
|
|
The shadow of a man who was seated in a chair within was thrown in
|
|
hard, black outline upon the luminous screen of the window.
|
|
There was no mistaking the poise of the head, the squareness of
|
|
the shoulders, the sharpness of the features. The face was
|
|
turned half-round, and the effect was that of one of those black
|
|
silhouettes which our grandparents loved to frame. It was a
|
|
perfect reproduction of Holmes. So amazed was I that I threw
|
|
out my hand to make sure that the man himself was standing
|
|
beside me. He was quivering with silent laughter.
|
|
|
|
"Well?" said he.
|
|
|
|
"Good heavens!" I cried. "It is marvellous."
|
|
|
|
"I trust that age doth not wither nor custom stale my infinite
|
|
variety,'" said he, and I recognised in his voice the joy and
|
|
pride which the artist takes in his own creation. "It really is
|
|
rather like me, is it not?"
|
|
|
|
"I should be prepared to swear that it was you."
|
|
|
|
"The credit of the execution is due to Monsieur Oscar Meunier,
|
|
of Grenoble, who spent some days in doing the moulding. It is a
|
|
bust in wax. The rest I arranged myself during my visit to
|
|
Baker Street this afternoon."
|
|
|
|
"But why?"
|
|
|
|
"Because, my dear Watson, I had the strongest possible reason
|
|
for wishing certain people to think that I was there when I was
|
|
really elsewhere."
|
|
|
|
"And you thought the rooms were watched?"
|
|
|
|
"I KNEW that they were watched."
|
|
|
|
"By whom?"
|
|
|
|
"By my old enemies, Watson. By the charming society whose leader
|
|
lies in the Reichenbach Fall. You must remember that they knew,
|
|
and only they knew, that I was still alive. Sooner or later they
|
|
believed that I should come back to my rooms. They watched them
|
|
continuously, and this morning they saw me arrive."
|
|
|
|
"How do you know?"
|
|
|
|
"Because I recognised their sentinel when I glanced out of my
|
|
window. He is a harmless enough fellow, Parker by name,
|
|
a garroter by trade, and a remarkable performer upon the Jew's
|
|
harp. I cared nothing for him. But I cared a great deal for
|
|
the much more formidable person who was behind him, the bosom
|
|
friend of Moriarty, the man who dropped the rocks over the cliff,
|
|
the most cunning and dangerous criminal in London. That is the
|
|
man who is after me to-night, Watson, and that is the man who is
|
|
quite unaware that we are after HIM."
|
|
|
|
My friend's plans were gradually revealing themselves.
|
|
From this convenient retreat the watchers were being watched and
|
|
the trackers tracked. That angular shadow up yonder was the bait
|
|
and we were the hunters. In silence we stood together in the
|
|
darkness and watched the hurrying figures who passed and
|
|
repassed in front of us. Holmes was silent and motionless;
|
|
but I could tell that he was keenly alert, and that his eyes were
|
|
fixed intently upon the stream of passers-by. It was a bleak
|
|
and boisterous night, and the wind whistled shrilly down the
|
|
long street. Many people were moving to and fro, most of them
|
|
muffled in their coats and cravats. Once or twice it seemed to
|
|
me that I had seen the same figure before, and I especially
|
|
noticed two men who appeared to be sheltering themselves from
|
|
the wind in the doorway of a house some distance up the street.
|
|
I tried to draw my companion's attention to them, but he gave a
|
|
little ejaculation of impatience and continued to stare into the
|
|
street. More than once he fidgeted with his feet and tapped
|
|
rapidly with his fingers upon the wall. It was evident to me
|
|
that he was becoming uneasy and that his plans were not working
|
|
out altogether as he had hoped. At last, as midnight approached
|
|
and the street gradually cleared, he paced up and down the room
|
|
in uncontrollable agitation. I was about to make some remark to
|
|
him when I raised my eyes to the lighted window and again
|
|
experienced almost as great a surprise as before. I clutched
|
|
Holmes's arm and pointed upwards.
|
|
|
|
"The shadow has moved!" I cried.
|
|
|
|
It was, indeed, no longer the profile, but the back, which was
|
|
turned towards us.
|
|
|
|
Three years had certainly not smoothed the asperities of his temper
|
|
or his impatience with a less active intelligence than his own.
|
|
|
|
"Of course it has moved," said he. "Am I such a farcical
|
|
bungler, Watson, that I should erect an obvious dummy and expect
|
|
that some of the sharpest men in Europe would be deceived by it?
|
|
We have been in this room two hours, and Mrs. Hudson has made
|
|
some change in that figure eight times, or once in every quarter
|
|
of an hour. She works it from the front so that her shadow may
|
|
never be seen. Ah!" He drew in his breath with a shrill,
|
|
excited intake. In the dim light I saw his head thrown forward,
|
|
his whole attitude rigid with attention. Outside, the street
|
|
was absolutely deserted. Those two men might still be crouching
|
|
in the doorway, but I could no longer see them. All was still
|
|
and dark, save only that brilliant yellow screen in front of us
|
|
with the black figure outlined upon its centre. Again in the
|
|
utter silence I heard that thin, sibilant note which spoke of
|
|
intense suppressed excitement. An instant later he pulled me
|
|
back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his
|
|
warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were
|
|
quivering. Never had I known my friend more moved, and yet the
|
|
dark street still stretched lonely and motionless before us.
|
|
|
|
But suddenly I was aware of that which his keener senses had
|
|
already distinguished. A low, stealthy sound came to my ears,
|
|
not from the direction of Baker Street, but from the back of the
|
|
very house in which we lay concealed. A door opened and shut.
|
|
An instant later steps crept down the passage -- steps which
|
|
were meant to be silent, but which reverberated harshly through
|
|
the empty house. Holmes crouched back against the wall and I
|
|
did the same, my hand closing upon the handle of my revolver.
|
|
Peering through the gloom, I saw the vague outline of a man,
|
|
a shade blacker than the blackness of the open door. He stood
|
|
for an instant, and then he crept forward, crouching, menacing,
|
|
into the room. He was within three yards of us, this sinister
|
|
figure, and I had braced myself to meet his spring, before I
|
|
realized that he had no idea of our presence. He passed close
|
|
beside us, stole over to the window, and very softly and
|
|
noiselessly raised it for half a foot. As he sank to the level
|
|
of this opening the light of the street, no longer dimmed by the
|
|
dusty glass, fell full upon his face. The man seemed to be
|
|
beside himself with excitement. His two eyes shone like stars
|
|
and his features were working convulsively. He was an elderly
|
|
man, with a thin, projecting nose, a high, bald forehead, and a
|
|
huge grizzled moustache. An opera-hat was pushed to the back of
|
|
his head, and an evening dress shirt-front gleamed out through
|
|
his open overcoat. His face was gaunt and swarthy, scored with
|
|
deep, savage lines. In his hand he carried what appeared to be
|
|
a stick, but as he laid it down upon the floor it gave a
|
|
metallic clang. Then from the pocket of his overcoat he drew a
|
|
bulky object, and he busied himself in some task which ended
|
|
with a loud, sharp click, as if a spring or bolt had fallen into
|
|
its place. Still kneeling upon the floor he bent forward and
|
|
threw all his weight and strength upon some lever, with the
|
|
result that there came a long, whirling, grinding noise, ending
|
|
once more in a powerful click. He straightened himself then,
|
|
and I saw that what he held in his hand was a sort of gun, with
|
|
a curiously misshapen butt. He opened it at the breech, put
|
|
something in, and snapped the breech-block. Then, crouching
|
|
down, he rested the end of the barrel upon the ledge of the open
|
|
window, and I saw his long moustache droop over the stock and
|
|
his eye gleam as it peered along the sights. I heard a little
|
|
sigh of satisfaction as he cuddled the butt into his shoulder,
|
|
and saw that amazing target, the black man on the yellow ground,
|
|
standing clear at the end of his fore sight. For an instant he
|
|
was rigid and motionless. Then his finger tightened on the
|
|
trigger. There was a strange, loud whiz and a long, silvery
|
|
tinkle of broken glass. At that instant Holmes sprang like a
|
|
tiger on to the marksman's back and hurled him flat upon his
|
|
face. He was up again in a moment, and with convulsive strength
|
|
he seized Holmes by the throat; but I struck him on the head
|
|
with the butt of my revolver and he dropped again upon the floor.
|
|
I fell upon him, and as I held him my comrade blew a shrill call
|
|
upon a whistle. There was the clatter of running feet upon the
|
|
pavement, and two policemen in uniform, with one plain-clothes
|
|
detective, rushed through the front entrance and into the room.
|
|
|
|
"That you, Lestrade?" said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Holmes. I took the job myself. It's good to see you
|
|
back in London, sir."
|
|
|
|
"I think you want a little unofficial help. Three undetected
|
|
murders in one year won't do, Lestrade. But you handled the
|
|
Molesey Mystery with less than your usual -- that's to say, you
|
|
handled it fairly well."
|
|
|
|
We had all risen to our feet, our prisoner breathing hard,
|
|
with a stalwart constable on each side of him. Already a few
|
|
loiterers had begun to collect in the street. Holmes stepped up
|
|
to the window, closed it, and dropped the blinds. Lestrade had
|
|
produced two candles and the policemen had uncovered their lanterns.
|
|
I was able at last to have a good look at our prisoner.
|
|
|
|
It was a tremendously virile and yet sinister face which was
|
|
turned towards us. With the brow of a philosopher above and the
|
|
jaw of a sensualist below, the man must have started with great
|
|
capacities for good or for evil. But one could not look upon his
|
|
cruel blue eyes, with their drooping, cynical lids, or upon the
|
|
fierce, aggressive nose and the threatening, deep-lined brow,
|
|
without reading Nature's plainest danger-signals. He took no heed
|
|
of any of us, but his eyes were fixed upon Holmes's face with an
|
|
expression in which hatred and amazement were equally blended.
|
|
"You fiend!" he kept on muttering. "You clever, clever fiend!"
|
|
|
|
"Ah, Colonel!" said Holmes, arranging his rumpled collar;
|
|
"`journeys end in lovers' meetings,' as the old play says.
|
|
I don't think I have had the pleasure of seeing you since you
|
|
favoured me with those attentions as I lay on the ledge above
|
|
the Reichenbach Fall."
|
|
|
|
The Colonel still stared at my friend like a man in a trance.
|
|
"You cunning, cunning fiend!" was all that he could say.
|
|
|
|
"I have not introduced you yet," said Holmes. "This, gentlemen,
|
|
is Colonel Sebastian Moran, once of Her Majesty's Indian Army,
|
|
and the best heavy game shot that our Eastern Empire has ever
|
|
produced. I believe I am correct, Colonel, in saying that your
|
|
bag of tigers still remains unrivalled?"
|
|
|
|
The fierce old man said nothing, but still glared at my companion;
|
|
with his savage eyes and bristling moustache he was wonderfully
|
|
like a tiger himself.
|
|
|
|
"I wonder that my very simple stratagem could deceive so old
|
|
a shikari," said Holmes. "It must be very familiar to you.
|
|
Have you not tethered a young kid under a tree, lain above it
|
|
with your rifle, and waited for the bait to bring up your tiger?
|
|
This empty house is my tree and you are my tiger. You have
|
|
possibly had other guns in reserve in case there should be
|
|
several tigers, or in the unlikely supposition of your own aim
|
|
failing you. These," he pointed around, "are my other guns.
|
|
The parallel is exact."
|
|
|
|
Colonel Moran sprang forward, with a snarl of rage, but the
|
|
constables dragged him back. The fury upon his face was
|
|
terrible to look at.
|
|
|
|
"I confess that you had one small surprise for me," said Holmes.
|
|
"I did not anticipate that you would yourself make use of this
|
|
empty house and this convenient front window. I had imagined
|
|
you as operating from the street, where my friend Lestrade and
|
|
his merry men were awaiting you. With that exception all has
|
|
gone as I expected."
|
|
|
|
Colonel Moran turned to the official detective.
|
|
|
|
"You may or may not have just cause for arresting me," said he,
|
|
"but at least there can be no reason why I should submit to the
|
|
gibes of this person. If I am in the hands of the law let
|
|
things be done in a legal way."
|
|
|
|
"Well, that's reasonable enough," said Lestrade. "Nothing
|
|
further you have to say, Mr. Holmes, before we go?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes had picked up the powerful air-gun from the floor and
|
|
was examining its mechanism.
|
|
|
|
"An admirable and unique weapon," said he, "noiseless and of
|
|
tremendous power. I knew Von Herder, the blind German mechanic,
|
|
who constructed it to the order of the late Professor Moriarty.
|
|
For years I have been aware of its existence, though I have
|
|
never before had the opportunity of handling it. I commend it
|
|
very specially to your attention, Lestrade, and also the bullets
|
|
which fit it."
|
|
|
|
"You can trust us to look after that, Mr. Holmes," said Lestrade,
|
|
as the whole party moved towards the door. "Anything further to say?"
|
|
|
|
"Only to ask what charge you intend to prefer?"
|
|
|
|
"What charge, sir? Why, of course, the attempted murder of Mr.
|
|
Sherlock Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"Not so, Lestrade. I do not propose to appear in the matter at all.
|
|
To you, and to you only, belongs the credit of the remarkable arrest
|
|
which you have effected. Yes, Lestrade, I congratulate you! With
|
|
your usual happy mixture of cunning and audacity you have got him."
|
|
|
|
"Got him! Got whom, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"The man that the whole force has been seeking in vain --
|
|
Colonel Sebastian Moran, who shot the Honourable Ronald Adair
|
|
with an expanding bullet from an air-gun through the open window
|
|
of the second-floor front of No. 427, Park Lane, upon the 30th
|
|
of last month. That's the charge, Lestrade. And now, Watson,
|
|
if you can endure the draught from a broken window, I think that
|
|
half an hour in my study over a cigar may afford you some
|
|
profitable amusement."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Our old chambers had been left unchanged through the supervision
|
|
of Mycroft Holmes and the immediate care of Mrs. Hudson.
|
|
As I entered I saw, it is true, an unwonted tidiness, but the old
|
|
landmarks were all in their place. There were the chemical
|
|
corner and the acid-stained, deal-topped table. There upon a
|
|
shelf was the row of formidable scrap-books and books of reference
|
|
which many of our fellow-citizens would have been so glad to burn.
|
|
The diagrams, the violin-case, and the pipe-rack -- even the
|
|
Persian slipper which contained the tobacco -- all met my eyes
|
|
as I glanced round me. There were two occupants of the room --
|
|
one Mrs. Hudson, who beamed upon us both as we entered;
|
|
the other the strange dummy which had played so important a part in
|
|
the evening's adventures. It was a wax-coloured model of my friend,
|
|
so admirably done that it was a perfect facsimile. It stood on a
|
|
small pedestal table with an old dressing-gown of Holmes's so draped
|
|
round it that the illusion from the street was absolutely perfect.
|
|
|
|
"I hope you preserved all precautions, Mrs. Hudson?" said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"I went to it on my knees, sir, just as you told me."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent. You carried the thing out very well. Did you observe
|
|
where the bullet went?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. I'm afraid it has spoilt your beautiful bust, for it
|
|
passed right through the head and flattened itself on the wall.
|
|
I picked it up from the carpet. Here it is!"
|
|
|
|
Holmes held it out to me. "A soft revolver bullet, as you
|
|
perceive, Watson. There's genius in that, for who would expect
|
|
to find such a thing fired from an air-gun. All right, Mrs.
|
|
Hudson, I am much obliged for your assistance. And now, Watson,
|
|
let me see you in your old seat once more, for there are
|
|
several points which I should like to discuss with you."
|
|
|
|
He had thrown off the seedy frock-coat, and now he was the
|
|
Holmes of old in the mouse-coloured dressing-gown which he took
|
|
from his effigy.
|
|
|
|
"The old shikari's nerves have not lost their steadiness nor his
|
|
eyes their keenness," said he, with a laugh, as he inspected the
|
|
shattered forehead of his bust.
|
|
|
|
"Plumb in the middle of the back of the head and smack through
|
|
the brain. He was the best shot in India, and I expect that
|
|
there are few better in London. Have you heard the name?"
|
|
|
|
"No, I have not."
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, such is fame! But, then, if I remember aright,
|
|
you had not heard the name of Professor James Moriarty, who had
|
|
one of the great brains of the century. Just give me down my
|
|
index of biographies from the shelf."
|
|
|
|
He turned over the pages lazily, leaning back in his chair and
|
|
blowing great clouds from his cigar.
|
|
|
|
"My collection of M's is a fine one," said he.
|
|
"Moriarty himself is enough to make any letter illustrious,
|
|
and here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominable memory,
|
|
and Mathews, who knocked out my left canine in the waiting-room
|
|
at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is our friend of to-night."
|
|
|
|
He handed over the book, and I read:
|
|
"MORAN, SEBASTIAN, COLONEL. Unemployed. Formerly 1st Bengalore
|
|
Pioneers. Born London, 1840. Son of Sir Augustus Moran, C.B.,
|
|
once British Minister to Persia. Educated Eton and Oxford.
|
|
Served in Jowaki Campaign, Afghan Campaign, Charasiab (despatches),
|
|
Sherpur, and Cabul. Author of `Heavy Game of the Western Himalayas,'
|
|
1881; `Three Months in the Jungle,' 1884. Address: Conduit Street.
|
|
Clubs: The Anglo-Indian, the Tankerville, the Bagatelle Card Club."
|
|
|
|
On the margin was written, in Holmes's precise hand:
|
|
"The second most dangerous man in London."
|
|
|
|
"This is astonishing," said I, as I handed back the volume.
|
|
"The man's career is that of an honourable soldier."
|
|
|
|
"It is true," Holmes answered. "Up to a certain point he did
|
|
well. He was always a man of iron nerve, and the story is still
|
|
told in India how he crawled down a drain after a wounded
|
|
man-eating tiger. There are some trees, Watson, which grow to a
|
|
certain height and then suddenly develop some unsightly
|
|
eccentricity. You will see it often in humans. I have a theory
|
|
that the individual represents in his development the whole
|
|
procession of his ancestors, and that such a sudden turn to good
|
|
or evil stands for some strong influence which came into the
|
|
line of his pedigree. The person becomes, as it were, the
|
|
epitome of the history of his own family."
|
|
|
|
"It is surely rather fanciful."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I don't insist upon it. Whatever the cause, Colonel
|
|
Moran began to go wrong. Without any open scandal he still made
|
|
India too hot to hold him. He retired, came to London, and
|
|
again acquired an evil name. It was at this time that he was
|
|
sought out by Professor Moriarty, to whom for a time he was
|
|
chief of the staff. Moriarty supplied him liberally with money
|
|
and used him only in one or two very high-class jobs which no
|
|
ordinary criminal could have undertaken. You may have some
|
|
recollection of the death of Mrs. Stewart, of Lauder, in 1887.
|
|
Not? Well, I am sure Moran was at the bottom of it; but nothing
|
|
could be proved. So cleverly was the Colonel concealed that
|
|
even when the Moriarty gang was broken up we could not
|
|
incriminate him. You remember at that date, when I called upon
|
|
you in your rooms, how I put up the shutters for fear of
|
|
air-guns? No doubt you thought me fanciful. I knew exactly
|
|
what I was doing, for I knew of the existence of this remarkable
|
|
gun, and I knew also that one of the best shots in the world
|
|
would be behind it. When we were in Switzerland he followed us
|
|
with Moriarty, and it was undoubtedly he who gave me that evil
|
|
five minutes on the Reichenbach ledge.
|
|
|
|
"You may think that I read the papers with some attention during
|
|
my sojourn in France, on the look-out for any chance of laying
|
|
him by the heels. So long as he was free in London my life
|
|
would really not have been worth living. Night and day the
|
|
shadow would have been over me, and sooner or later his chance
|
|
must have come. What could I do? I could not shoot him at
|
|
sight, or I should myself be in the dock. There was no use
|
|
appealing to a magistrate. They cannot interfere on the
|
|
strength of what would appear to them to be a wild suspicion.
|
|
So I could do nothing. But I watched the criminal news, knowing
|
|
that sooner or later I should get him. Then came the death of
|
|
this Ronald Adair. My chance had come at last! Knowing what I
|
|
did, was it not certain that Colonel Moran had done it? He had
|
|
played cards with the lad; he had followed him home from the
|
|
club; he had shot him through the open window. There was not a
|
|
doubt of it. The bullets alone are enough to put his head in a
|
|
noose. I came over at once. I was seen by the sentinel, who
|
|
would, I knew, direct the Colonel's attention to my presence. He
|
|
could not fail to connect my sudden return with his crime and to
|
|
be terribly alarmed. I was sure that he would make an attempt
|
|
to get me out of the way AT ONCE, and would bring round his
|
|
murderous weapon for that purpose. I left him an excellent mark
|
|
in the window, and, having warned the police that they might be
|
|
needed -- by the way, Watson, you spotted their presence in that
|
|
doorway with unerring accuracy -- I took up what seemed to me to
|
|
be a judicious post for observation, never dreaming that he
|
|
would choose the same spot for his attack. Now, my dear Watson,
|
|
does anything remain for me to explain?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes," said I. "You have not made it clear what was Colonel
|
|
Moran's motive in murdering the Honourable Ronald Adair."
|
|
|
|
"Ah! my dear Watson, there we come into those realms of
|
|
conjecture where the most logical mind may be at fault.
|
|
Each may form his own hypothesis upon the present evidence,
|
|
and yours is as likely to be correct as mine."
|
|
|
|
"You have formed one, then?"
|
|
|
|
"I think that it is not difficult to explain the facts.
|
|
It came out in evidence that Colonel Moran and young Adair had
|
|
between them won a considerable amount of money. Now, Moran
|
|
undoubtedly played foul -- of that I have long been aware.
|
|
I believe that on the day of the murder Adair had discovered that
|
|
Moran was cheating. Very likely he had spoken to him privately,
|
|
and had threatened to expose him unless he voluntarily resigned
|
|
his membership of the club and promised not to play cards again.
|
|
It is unlikely that a youngster like Adair would at once make a
|
|
hideous scandal by exposing a well-known man so much older than
|
|
himself. Probably he acted as I suggest. The exclusion from
|
|
his clubs would mean ruin to Moran, who lived by his ill-gotten
|
|
card gains. He therefore murdered Adair, who at the time was
|
|
endeavouring to work out how much money he should himself return,
|
|
since he could not profit by his partner's foul play. He locked
|
|
the door lest the ladies should surprise him and insist upon knowing
|
|
what he was doing with these names and coins. Will it pass?"
|
|
|
|
"I have no doubt that you have hit upon the truth."
|
|
|
|
"It will be verified or disproved at the trial. Meanwhile,
|
|
come what may, Colonel Moran will trouble us no more, the famous
|
|
air-gun of Von Herder will embellish the Scotland Yard Museum,
|
|
and once again Mr. Sherlock Holmes is free to devote his life to
|
|
examining those interesting little problems which the complex
|
|
life of London so plentifully presents."
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 26 NOVEMBER, 1903
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
II. -- The Adventure of the Norwood Builder.
|
|
|
|
|
|
"FROM the point of view of the criminal expert," said Mr.
|
|
Sherlock Holmes, "London has become a singularly uninteresting
|
|
city since the death of the late lamented Professor Moriarty."
|
|
|
|
"I can hardly think that you would find many decent citizens
|
|
to agree with you," I answered.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, I must not be selfish," said he, with a smile,
|
|
as he pushed back his chair from the breakfast-table.
|
|
"The community is certainly the gainer, and no one the loser,
|
|
save the poor out-of-work specialist, whose occupation has gone.
|
|
With that man in the field one's morning paper presented
|
|
infinite possibilities. Often it was only the smallest trace,
|
|
Watson, the faintest indication, and yet it was enough to tell
|
|
me that the great malignant brain was there, as the gentlest
|
|
tremors of the edges of the web remind one of the foul spider
|
|
which lurks in the centre. Petty thefts, wanton assaults,
|
|
purposeless outrage -- to the man who held the clue all could
|
|
be worked into one connected whole. To the scientific student
|
|
of the higher criminal world no capital in Europe offered
|
|
the advantages which London then possessed. But now ----"
|
|
He shrugged his shoulders in humorous deprecation of the state
|
|
of things which he had himself done so much to produce.
|
|
|
|
At the time of which I speak Holmes had been back for some months,
|
|
and I, at his request, had sold my practice and returned to share
|
|
the old quarters in Baker Street. A young doctor, named Verner,
|
|
had purchased my small Kensington practice, and given with
|
|
astonishingly little demur the highest price that I ventured to
|
|
ask -- an incident which only explained itself some years later
|
|
when I found that Verner was a distant relation of Holmes's, and
|
|
that it was my friend who had really found the money.
|
|
|
|
Our months of partnership had not been so uneventful as he had
|
|
stated, for I find, on looking over my notes, that this period
|
|
includes the case of the papers of Ex-President Murillo, and
|
|
also the shocking affair of the Dutch steamship FRIESLAND, which
|
|
so nearly cost us both our lives. His cold and proud nature was
|
|
always averse, however, to anything in the shape of public applause,
|
|
and he bound me in the most stringent terms to say no further word
|
|
of himself, his methods, or his successes -- a prohibition which,
|
|
as I have explained, has only now been removed.
|
|
|
|
Mr. Sherlock Holmes was leaning back in his chair after his
|
|
whimsical protest, and was unfolding his morning paper in a
|
|
leisurely fashion, when our attention was arrested by a
|
|
tremendous ring at the bell, followed immediately by a hollow
|
|
drumming sound, as if someone were beating on the outer door
|
|
with his fist. As it opened there came a tumultuous rush into
|
|
the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and an instant
|
|
later a wild-eyed and frantic young man, pale, dishevelled,
|
|
and palpitating, burst into the room. He looked from one to the
|
|
other of us, and under our gaze of inquiry he became conscious
|
|
that some apology was needed for this unceremonious entry.
|
|
|
|
"I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes," he cried. "You mustn't blame me.
|
|
I am nearly mad. Mr. Holmes, I am the unhappy John Hector McFarlane."
|
|
|
|
He made the announcement as if the name alone would explain both
|
|
his visit and its manner; but I could see by my companion's
|
|
unresponsive face that it meant no more to him than to me.
|
|
|
|
"Have a cigarette, Mr. McFarlane," said he, pushing his case across.
|
|
"I am sure that with your symptoms my friend Dr. Watson here would
|
|
prescribe a sedative. The weather has been so very warm these
|
|
last few days. Now, if you feel a little more composed, I should
|
|
be glad if you would sit down in that chair and tell us very slowly
|
|
and quietly who you are and what it is that you want. You mentioned
|
|
your name as if I should recognise it, but I assure you that,
|
|
beyond the obvious facts that you are a bachelor, a solicitor,
|
|
a Freemason, and an asthmatic, I know nothing whatever about you."
|
|
|
|
Familiar as I was with my friend's methods, it was not difficult
|
|
for me to follow his deductions, and to observe the untidiness of
|
|
attire, the sheaf of legal papers, the watch-charm, and the breathing
|
|
which had prompted them. Our client, however, stared in amazement.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes, and in addition I am the most
|
|
unfortunate man at this moment in London. For Heaven's sake
|
|
don't abandon me, Mr. Holmes! If they come to arrest me before
|
|
I have finished my story, make them give me time so that I may
|
|
tell you the whole truth. I could go to gaol happy if I knew
|
|
that you were working for me outside."
|
|
|
|
"Arrest you!" said Holmes. "This is really most grati -- most
|
|
interesting. On what charge do you expect to be arrested?"
|
|
|
|
"Upon the charge of murdering Mr. Jonas Oldacre, of Lower Norwood."
|
|
|
|
My companion's expressive face showed a sympathy which was not,
|
|
I am afraid, entirely unmixed with satisfaction.
|
|
|
|
"Dear me," said he; "it was only this moment at breakfast that
|
|
I was saying to my friend, Dr. Watson, that sensational cases had
|
|
disappeared out of our papers."
|
|
|
|
Our visitor stretched forward a quivering hand and picked up the
|
|
DAILY TELEGRAPH, which still lay upon Holmes's knee.
|
|
|
|
"If you had looked at it, sir, you would have seen at a glance
|
|
what the errand is on which I have come to you this morning.
|
|
I feel as if my name and my misfortune must be in every man's
|
|
mouth." He turned it over to expose the central page. "Here it
|
|
is, and with your permission I will read it to you. Listen to
|
|
this, Mr. Holmes. The head-lines are: `Mysterious Affair at
|
|
Lower Norwood. Disappearance of a Well-known Builder. Suspicion
|
|
of Murder and Arson. A Clue to the Criminal.' That is the clue
|
|
which they are already following, Mr. Holmes, and I know that it
|
|
leads infallibly to me. I have been followed from London Bridge
|
|
Station, and I am sure that they are only waiting for the warrant
|
|
to arrest me. It will break my mother's heart -- it will break
|
|
her heart!" He wrung his hands in an agony of apprehension,
|
|
and swayed backwards and forwards in his chair.
|
|
|
|
I looked with interest upon this man, who was accused of being
|
|
the perpetrator of a crime of violence. He was flaxen-haired
|
|
and handsome in a washed-out negative fashion, with frightened
|
|
blue eyes and a clean-shaven face, with a weak, sensitive mouth.
|
|
His age may have been about twenty-seven; his dress and bearing
|
|
that of a gentleman. From the pocket of his light summer
|
|
overcoat protruded the bundle of endorsed papers which
|
|
proclaimed his profession.
|
|
|
|
"We must use what time we have," said Holmes. "Watson, would
|
|
you have the kindness to take the paper and to read me the
|
|
paragraph in question?"
|
|
|
|
Underneath the vigorous head-lines which our client had quoted
|
|
I read the following suggestive narrative:---
|
|
|
|
|
|
Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred
|
|
at Lower Norwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime.
|
|
Mr. Jonas Oldacre is a well-known resident of that suburb,
|
|
where he has carried on his business as a builder for many years.
|
|
Mr. Oldacre is a bachelor, fifty-two years of age, and lives in
|
|
Deep Dene House, at the Sydenham end of the road of that name.
|
|
He has had the reputation of being a man of eccentric habits,
|
|
secretive and retiring. For some years he has practically
|
|
withdrawn from the business, in which he is said to have amassed
|
|
considerable wealth. A small timber-yard still exists, however,
|
|
at the back of the house, and last night, about twelve o'clock,
|
|
an alarm was given that one of the stacks was on fire. The
|
|
engines were soon upon the spot, but the dry wood burned with
|
|
great fury, and it was impossible to arrest the conflagration
|
|
until the stack had been entirely consumed. Up to this point
|
|
the incident bore the appearance of an ordinary accident, but
|
|
fresh indications seem to point to serious crime. Surprise was
|
|
expressed at the absence of the master of the establishment from
|
|
the scene of the fire, and an inquiry followed, which showed
|
|
that he had disappeared from the house. An examination of his
|
|
room revealed that the bed had not been slept in, that a safe
|
|
which stood in it was open, that a number of important papers
|
|
were scattered about the room, and, finally, that there were
|
|
signs of a murderous struggle, slight traces of blood being
|
|
found within the room, and an oaken walking-stick, which also
|
|
showed stains of blood upon the handle. It is known that Mr.
|
|
Jonas Oldacre had received a late visitor in his bedroom upon
|
|
that night, and the stick found has been identified as the
|
|
property of this person, who is a young London solicitor named
|
|
John Hector McFarlane, junior partner of Graham and McFarlane,
|
|
of 426, Gresham Buildings, E.C. The police believe that they
|
|
have evidence in their possession which supplies a very
|
|
convincing motive for the crime, and altogether it cannot
|
|
be doubted that sensational developments will follow.
|
|
|
|
LATER. -- It is rumoured as we go to press that Mr. John Hector
|
|
McFarlane has actually been arrested on the charge of the murder
|
|
of Mr. Jonas Oldacre. It is at least certain that a warrant has
|
|
been issued. There have been further and sinister developments
|
|
in the investigation at Norwood. Besides the signs of a
|
|
struggle in the room of the unfortunate builder it is now known
|
|
that the French windows of his bedroom (which is on the ground
|
|
floor) were found to be open, that there were marks as if some
|
|
bulky object had been dragged across to the wood-pile, and,
|
|
finally, it is asserted that charred remains have been found
|
|
among the charcoal ashes of the fire. The police theory is that
|
|
a most sensational crime has been committed, that the victim was
|
|
clubbed to death in his own bedroom, his papers rifled, and his
|
|
dead body dragged across to the wood-stack, which was then
|
|
ignited so as to hide all traces of the crime. The conduct of
|
|
the criminal investigation has been left in the experienced
|
|
hands of Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, who is following
|
|
up the clues with his accustomed energy and sagacity.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes listened with closed eyes and finger-tips
|
|
together to this remarkable account.
|
|
|
|
"The case has certainly some points of interest," said he,
|
|
in his languid fashion. "May I ask, in the first place,
|
|
Mr. McFarlane, how it is that you are still at liberty, since
|
|
there appears to be enough evidence to justify your arrest?"
|
|
|
|
"I live at Torrington Lodge, Blackheath, with my parents,
|
|
Mr. Holmes; but last night, having to do business very late
|
|
with Mr. Jonas Oldacre, I stayed at an hotel in Norwood, and
|
|
came to my business from there. I knew nothing of this affair
|
|
until I was in the train, when I read what you have just heard.
|
|
I at once saw the horrible danger of my position, and I hurried
|
|
to put the case into your hands. I have no doubt that I should
|
|
have been arrested either at my City office or at my home.
|
|
A man followed me from London Bridge Station, and I have no
|
|
doubt --- Great Heaven, what is that?"
|
|
|
|
It was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps
|
|
upon the stair. A moment later our old friend Lestrade
|
|
appeared in the doorway. Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse
|
|
of one or two uniformed policemen outside.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. John Hector McFarlane?" said Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
Our unfortunate client rose with a ghastly face.
|
|
|
|
"I arrest you for the wilful murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre,
|
|
of Lower Norwood."
|
|
|
|
McFarlane turned to us with a gesture of despair, and sank into
|
|
his chair once more like one who is crushed.
|
|
|
|
"One moment, Lestrade," said Holmes. "Half an hour more or less
|
|
can make no difference to you, and the gentleman was about to
|
|
give us an account of this very interesting affair, which might
|
|
aid us in clearing it up."
|
|
|
|
"I think there will be no difficulty in clearing it up,"
|
|
said Lestrade, grimly.
|
|
|
|
"None the less, with your permission, I should be much
|
|
interested to hear his account."
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes, it is difficult for me to refuse you anything,
|
|
for you have been of use to the force once or twice in the past,
|
|
and we owe you a good turn at Scotland Yard," said Lestrade.
|
|
"At the same time I must remain with my prisoner, and I am
|
|
bound to warn him that anything he may say will appear in
|
|
evidence against him."
|
|
|
|
"I wish nothing better," said our client. "All I ask is that
|
|
you should hear and recognise the absolute truth."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade looked at his watch. "I'll give you half an hour,"
|
|
said he.
|
|
|
|
"I must explain first," said McFarlane, "that I knew nothing of
|
|
Mr. Jonas Oldacre. His name was familiar to me, for many years
|
|
ago my parents were acquainted with him, but they drifted apart.
|
|
I was very much surprised, therefore, when yesterday, about
|
|
three o'clock in the afternoon, he walked into my office in the
|
|
City. But I was still more astonished when he told me the object
|
|
of his visit. He had in his hand several sheets of a note-book,
|
|
covered with scribbled writing -- here they are -- and he laid
|
|
them on my table.
|
|
|
|
"`Here is my will,' said he. `I want you, Mr. McFarlane, to cast
|
|
it into proper legal shape. I will sit here while you do so.'
|
|
|
|
"I set myself to copy it, and you can imagine my astonishment
|
|
when I found that, with some reservations, he had left all his
|
|
property to me. He was a strange little, ferret-like man, with
|
|
white eyelashes, and when I looked up at him I found his keen
|
|
grey eyes fixed upon me with an amused expression. I could
|
|
hardly believe my own senses as I read the terms of the will;
|
|
but he explained that he was a bachelor with hardly any living
|
|
relation, that he had known my parents in his youth, and that he
|
|
had always heard of me as a very deserving young man, and was
|
|
assured that his money would be in worthy hands. Of course,
|
|
I could only stammer out my thanks. The will was duly finished,
|
|
signed, and witnessed by my clerk. This is it on the blue paper,
|
|
and these slips, as I have explained, are the rough draft.
|
|
Mr. Jonas Oldacre then informed me that there were a number of
|
|
documents -- building leases, title-deeds, mortgages, scrip,
|
|
and so forth -- which it was necessary that I should see
|
|
and understand. He said that his mind would not be easy until
|
|
the whole thing was settled, and he begged me to come out to his
|
|
house at Norwood that night, bringing the will with me, and to
|
|
arrange matters. `Remember, my boy, not one word to your
|
|
parents about the affair until everything is settled. We will
|
|
keep it as a little surprise for them.' He was very insistent
|
|
upon this point, and made me promise it faithfully.
|
|
|
|
"You can imagine, Mr. Holmes, that I was not in a humour to
|
|
refuse him anything that he might ask. He was my benefactor,
|
|
and all my desire was to carry out his wishes in every particular.
|
|
I sent a telegram home, therefore, to say that I had important
|
|
business on hand, and that it was impossible for me to say how
|
|
late I might be. Mr. Oldacre had told me that he would like me
|
|
to have supper with him at nine, as he might not be home before
|
|
that hour. I had some difficulty in finding his house, however,
|
|
and it was nearly half-past before I reached it. I found him ---"
|
|
|
|
"One moment!" said Holmes. "Who opened the door?"
|
|
|
|
"A middle-aged woman, who was, I suppose, his housekeeper."
|
|
|
|
"And it was she, I presume, who mentioned your name?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly," said McFarlane.
|
|
|
|
"Pray proceed."
|
|
|
|
McFarlane wiped his damp brow and then continued his narrative:--
|
|
|
|
"I was shown by this woman into a sitting-room, where a frugal
|
|
supper was laid out. Afterwards Mr. Jonas Oldacre led me into
|
|
his bedroom, in which there stood a heavy safe. This he opened
|
|
and took out a mass of documents, which we went over together.
|
|
It was between eleven and twelve when we finished. He remarked
|
|
that we must not disturb the housekeeper. He showed me out
|
|
through his own French window, which had been open all this time."
|
|
|
|
"Was the blind down?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"I will not be sure, but I believe that it was only half down.
|
|
Yes, I remember how he pulled it up in order to swing open the
|
|
window. I could not find my stick, and he said, `Never mind, my
|
|
boy; I shall see a good deal of you now, I hope, and I will keep
|
|
your stick until you come back to claim it.' I left him there,
|
|
the safe open, and the papers made up in packets upon the table.
|
|
It was so late that I could not get back to Blackheath, so I
|
|
spent the night at the Anerley Arms, and I knew nothing more
|
|
until I read of this horrible affair in the morning."
|
|
|
|
"Anything more that you would like to ask, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
said Lestrade, whose eyebrows had gone up once or twice
|
|
during this remarkable explanation.
|
|
|
|
"Not until I have been to Blackheath."
|
|
|
|
"You mean to Norwood," said Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, yes; no doubt that is what I must have meant," said Holmes,
|
|
with his enigmatical smile. Lestrade had learned by more
|
|
experiences than he would care to acknowledge that that
|
|
razor-like brain could cut through that which was impenetrable
|
|
to him. I saw him look curiously at my companion.
|
|
|
|
"I think I should like to have a word with you presently,
|
|
Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he. "Now, Mr. McFarlane, two of
|
|
my constables are at the door and there is a four-wheeler
|
|
waiting." The wretched young man arose, and with a last
|
|
beseeching glance at us walked from the room. The officers
|
|
conducted him to the cab, but Lestrade remained.
|
|
|
|
Holmes had picked up the pages which formed the rough draft
|
|
of the will, and was looking at them with the keenest interest
|
|
upon his face.
|
|
|
|
"There are some points about that document, Lestrade, are there
|
|
not?" said he, pushing them over.
|
|
|
|
The official looked at them with a puzzled expression.
|
|
|
|
"I can read the first few lines, and these in the middle of
|
|
the second page, and one or two at the end. Those are as clear
|
|
as print," said he; "but the writing in between is very bad,
|
|
and there are three places where I cannot read it at all."
|
|
|
|
"What do you make of that?" said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Well, what do YOU make of it?"
|
|
|
|
"That it was written in a train; the good writing represents
|
|
stations, the bad writing movement, and the very bad writing
|
|
passing over points. A scientific expert would pronounce at
|
|
once that this was drawn up on a suburban line, since nowhere
|
|
save in the immediate vicinity of a great city could there be so
|
|
quick a succession of points. Granting that his whole journey
|
|
was occupied in drawing up the will, then the train was an
|
|
express, only stopping once between Norwood and London Bridge."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade began to laugh.
|
|
|
|
"You are too many for me when you begin to get on your theories,
|
|
Mr. Holmes," said he. "How does this bear on the case?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, it corroborates the young man's story to the extent that
|
|
the will was drawn up by Jonas Oldacre in his journey yesterday.
|
|
It is curious -- is it not? -- that a man should draw up so
|
|
important a document in so haphazard a fashion. It suggests
|
|
that he did not think it was going to be of much practical
|
|
importance. If a man drew up a will which he did not intend
|
|
ever to be effective he might do it so."
|
|
|
|
"Well, he drew up his own death-warrant at the same time,"
|
|
said Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, you think so?"
|
|
|
|
"Don't you?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, it is quite possible; but the case is not clear to me yet."
|
|
|
|
"Not clear? Well, if that isn't clear, what COULD be clear?
|
|
Here is a young man who learns suddenly that if a certain older
|
|
man dies he will succeed to a fortune. What does he do?
|
|
He says nothing to anyone, but he arranges that he shall go out
|
|
on some pretext to see his client that night; he waits until
|
|
the only other person in the house is in bed, and then in the
|
|
solitude of a man's room he murders him, burns his body in the
|
|
wood-pile, and departs to a neighbouring hotel. The blood-stains
|
|
in the room and also on the stick are very slight. It is probable
|
|
that he imagined his crime to be a bloodless one, and hoped that
|
|
if the body were consumed it would hide all traces of the method
|
|
of his death -- traces which for some reason must have pointed
|
|
to him. Is all this not obvious?"
|
|
|
|
"It strikes me, my good Lestrade, as being just a trifle too
|
|
obvious," said Holmes. "You do not add imagination to your
|
|
other great qualities; but if you could for one moment put
|
|
yourself in the place of this young man, would you choose the
|
|
very night after the will had been made to commit your crime?
|
|
Would it not seem dangerous to you to make so very close a
|
|
relation between the two incidents? Again, would you choose
|
|
an occasion when you are known to be in the house, when a servant
|
|
has let you in? And, finally, would you take the great pains
|
|
to conceal the body and yet leave your own stick as a sign
|
|
that you were the criminal? Confess, Lestrade, that all this
|
|
is very unlikely."
|
|
|
|
"As to the stick, Mr. Holmes, you know as well as I do that
|
|
a criminal is often flurried and does things which a cool man
|
|
would avoid. He was very likely afraid to go back to the room.
|
|
Give me another theory that would fit the facts."
|
|
|
|
"I could very easily give you half-a-dozen," said Holmes.
|
|
"Here, for example, is a very possible and even probable one.
|
|
I make you a free present of it. The older man is showing
|
|
documents which are of evident value. A passing tramp sees
|
|
them through the window, the blind of which is only half down.
|
|
Exit the solicitor. Enter the tramp! He seizes a stick,
|
|
which he observes there, kills Oldacre, and departs after
|
|
burning the body."
|
|
|
|
"Why should the tramp burn the body?"
|
|
|
|
"For the matter of that why should McFarlane?"
|
|
|
|
"To hide some evidence."
|
|
|
|
"Possibly the tramp wanted to hide that any murder at all had
|
|
been committed."
|
|
|
|
"And why did the tramp take nothing?"
|
|
|
|
"Because they were papers that he could not negotiate."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade shook his head, though it seemed to me that his manner
|
|
was less absolutely assured than before.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you may look for your tramp,
|
|
and while you are finding him we will hold on to our man.
|
|
The future will show which is right. Just notice this point,
|
|
Mr. Holmes: that so far as we know none of the papers were
|
|
removed, and that the prisoner is the one man in the world who
|
|
had no reason for removing them, since he was heir-at-law and
|
|
would come into them in any case."
|
|
|
|
My friend seemed struck by this remark.
|
|
|
|
"I don't mean to deny that the evidence is in some ways very
|
|
strongly in favour of your theory," said he. "I only wish to
|
|
point out that there are other theories possible. As you say,
|
|
the future will decide. Good morning! I dare say that in the
|
|
course of the day I shall drop in at Norwood and see how you
|
|
are getting on."
|
|
|
|
When the detective departed my friend rose and made his
|
|
preparations for the day's work with the alert air of a man who
|
|
has a congenial task before him.
|
|
|
|
"My first movement, Watson," said he, as he bustled into his
|
|
frock-coat, "must, as I said, be in the direction of Blackheath."
|
|
|
|
"And why not Norwood?"
|
|
|
|
"Because we have in this case one singular incident coming close
|
|
to the heels of another singular incident. The police are
|
|
making the mistake of concentrating their attention upon the
|
|
second, because it happens to be the one which is actually
|
|
criminal. But it is evident to me that the logical way to
|
|
approach the case is to begin by trying to throw some light upon
|
|
the first incident -- the curious will, so suddenly made, and to
|
|
so unexpected an heir. It may do something to simplify what
|
|
followed. No, my dear fellow, I don't think you can help me.
|
|
There is no prospect of danger, or I should not dream of
|
|
stirring out without you. I trust that when I see you in the
|
|
evening I will be able to report that I have been able to do
|
|
something for this unfortunate youngster who has thrown himself
|
|
upon my protection."
|
|
|
|
It was late when my friend returned, and I could see by a glance
|
|
at his haggard and anxious face that the high hopes with which
|
|
he had started had not been fulfilled. For an hour he droned
|
|
away upon his violin, endeavouring to soothe his own ruffled
|
|
spirits. At last he flung down the instrument and plunged into
|
|
a detailed account of his misadventures.
|
|
|
|
"It's all going wrong, Watson -- all as wrong as it can go.
|
|
I kept a bold face before Lestrade, but, upon my soul, I believe
|
|
that for once the fellow is on the right track and we are on the
|
|
wrong. All my instincts are one way and all the facts are the
|
|
other, and I much fear that British juries have not yet attained
|
|
that pitch of intelligence when they will give the preference to
|
|
my theories over Lestrade's facts."
|
|
|
|
"Did you go to Blackheath?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Watson, I went there, and I found very quickly that the
|
|
late lamented Oldacre was a pretty considerable black-guard.
|
|
The father was away in search of his son. The mother was at
|
|
home -- a little, fluffy, blue-eyed person, in a tremor of fear
|
|
and indignation. Of course, she would not admit even the
|
|
possibility of his guilt. But she would not express either
|
|
surprise or regret over the fate of Oldacre. On the contrary,
|
|
she spoke of him with such bitterness that she was unconsciously
|
|
considerably strengthening the case of the police, for, of course,
|
|
if her son had heard her speak of the man in this fashion it would
|
|
predispose him towards hatred and violence. `He was more like
|
|
a malignant and cunning ape than a human being,' said she,
|
|
`and he always was, ever since he was a young man.'
|
|
|
|
"`You knew him at that time?' said I.
|
|
|
|
"`Yes, I knew him well; in fact, he was an old suitor of mine.
|
|
Thank Heaven that I had the sense to turn away from him and
|
|
to marry a better, if a poorer, man. I was engaged to him,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, when I heard a shocking story of how he had turned
|
|
a cat loose in an aviary, and I was so horrified at his brutal
|
|
cruelty that I would have nothing more to do with him.'
|
|
She rummaged in a bureau, and presently she produced a photograph
|
|
of a woman, shamefully defaced and mutilated with a knife.
|
|
`That is my own photograph,' she said. `He sent it to me in
|
|
that state, with his curse, upon my wedding morning.'
|
|
|
|
"`Well,' said I, `at least he has forgiven you now, since he has
|
|
left all his property to your son.'
|
|
|
|
"`Neither my son nor I want anything from Jonas Oldacre, dead
|
|
or alive,' she cried, with a proper spirit. `There is a God
|
|
in Heaven, Mr. Holmes, and that same God who has punished that
|
|
wicked man will show in His own good time that my son's hands
|
|
are guiltless of his blood.'
|
|
|
|
"Well, I tried one or two leads, but could get at nothing which
|
|
would help our hypothesis, and several points which would make
|
|
against it. I gave it up at last and off I went to Norwood.
|
|
|
|
"This place, Deep Dene House, is a big modern villa of staring
|
|
brick, standing back in its own grounds, with a laurel-clumped
|
|
lawn in front of it. To the right and some distance back from
|
|
the road was the timber-yard which had been the scene of the
|
|
fire. Here's a rough plan on a leaf of my note-book. This
|
|
window on the left is the one which opens into Oldacre's room.
|
|
You can look into it from the road, you see. That is about the
|
|
only bit of consolation I have had to-day. Lestrade was not
|
|
there, but his head constable did the honours. They had just
|
|
made a great treasure-trove. They had spent the morning raking
|
|
among the ashes of the burned wood-pile, and besides the charred
|
|
organic remains they had secured several discoloured metal
|
|
discs. I examined them with care, and there was no doubt that
|
|
they were trouser buttons. I even distinguished that one of
|
|
them was marked with the name of `Hyams,' who was Oldacre's
|
|
tailor. I then worked the lawn very carefully for signs and
|
|
traces, but this drought has made everything as hard as iron.
|
|
Nothing was to be seen save that some body or bundle had been
|
|
dragged through a low privet hedge which is in a line with the
|
|
wood-pile. All that, of course, fits in with the official
|
|
theory. I crawled about the lawn with an August sun on my back,
|
|
but I got up at the end of an hour no wiser than before.
|
|
|
|
"Well, after this fiasco I went into the bedroom and examined
|
|
that also. The blood-stains were very slight, mere smears and
|
|
discolorations, but undoubtedly fresh. The stick had been removed,
|
|
but there also the marks were slight. There is no doubt about
|
|
the stick belonging to our client. He admits it. Footmarks of
|
|
both men could be made out on the carpet, but none of any third
|
|
person, which again is a trick for the other side. They were
|
|
piling up their score all the time and we were at a standstill.
|
|
|
|
"Only one little gleam of hope did I get -- and yet it amounted
|
|
to nothing. I examined the contents of the safe, most of which
|
|
had been taken out and left on the table. The papers had been
|
|
made up into sealed envelopes, one or two of which had been
|
|
opened by the police. They were not, so far as I could judge,
|
|
of any great value, nor did the bank-book show that Mr. Oldacre
|
|
was in such very affluent circumstances. But it seemed to me
|
|
that all the papers were not there. There were allusions to
|
|
some deeds -- possibly the more valuable -- which I could not
|
|
find. This, of course, if we could definitely prove it, would
|
|
turn Lestrade's argument against himself, for who would steal
|
|
a thing if he knew that he would shortly inherit it?
|
|
|
|
"Finally, having drawn every other cover and picked up no scent,
|
|
I tried my luck with the housekeeper. Mrs. Lexington is her
|
|
name, a little, dark, silent person, with suspicious and
|
|
sidelong eyes. She could tell us something if she would --
|
|
I am convinced of it. But she was as close as wax. Yes, she
|
|
had let Mr. McFarlane in at half-past nine. She wished her
|
|
hand had withered before she had done so. She had gone to bed at
|
|
half-past ten. Her room was at the other end of the house, and
|
|
she could hear nothing of what passed. Mr. McFarlane had left
|
|
his hat, and to the best of her belief his stick, in the hall.
|
|
She had been awakened by the alarm of fire. Her poor, dear
|
|
master had certainly been murdered. Had he any enemies?
|
|
Well, every man had enemies, but Mr. Oldacre kept himself very
|
|
much to himself, and only met people in the way of business.
|
|
She had seen the buttons, and was sure that they belonged to the
|
|
clothes which he had worn last night. The wood-pile was very dry,
|
|
for it had not rained for a month. It burned like tinder, and by
|
|
the time she reached the spot nothing could be seen but flames.
|
|
She and all the firemen smelled the burned flesh from inside it.
|
|
She knew nothing of the papers, nor of Mr. Oldacre's private affairs.
|
|
|
|
"So, my dear Watson, there's my report of a failure. And yet --
|
|
and yet ---" -- he clenched his thin hands in a paroxysm of
|
|
conviction -- "I KNOW it's all wrong. I feel it in my bones.
|
|
There is something that has not come out, and that housekeeper
|
|
knows it. There was a sort of sulky defiance in her eyes, which
|
|
only goes with guilty knowledge. However, there's no good
|
|
talking any more about it, Watson; but unless some lucky chance
|
|
comes our way I fear that the Norwood Disappearance Case will
|
|
not figure in that chronicle of our successes which I foresee
|
|
that a patient public will sooner or later have to endure."
|
|
|
|
"Surely," said I, "the man's appearance would go far with any jury?"
|
|
|
|
"That is a dangerous argument, my dear Watson. You remember that
|
|
terrible murderer, Bert Stevens, who wanted us to get him off in '87?
|
|
Was there ever a more mild-mannered, Sunday-school young man?"
|
|
|
|
"It is true."
|
|
|
|
"Unless we succeed in establishing an alternative theory this
|
|
man is lost. You can hardly find a flaw in the case which can
|
|
now be presented against him, and all further investigation has
|
|
served to strengthen it. By the way, there is one curious
|
|
little point about those papers which may serve us as the
|
|
starting-point for an inquiry. On looking over the bank-book
|
|
I found that the low state of the balance was principally due
|
|
to large cheques which have been made out during the last year
|
|
to Mr. Cornelius. I confess that I should be interested to know
|
|
who this Mr. Cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has
|
|
such very large transactions. Is it possible that he has had
|
|
a hand in the affair? Cornelius might be a broker, but we have
|
|
found no scrip to correspond with these large payments. Failing
|
|
any other indication my researches must now take the direction
|
|
of an inquiry at the bank for the gentleman who has cashed these
|
|
cheques. But I fear, my dear fellow, that our case will end
|
|
ingloriously by Lestrade hanging our client, which will
|
|
certainly be a triumph for Scotland Yard."
|
|
|
|
I do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night,
|
|
but when I came down to breakfast I found him pale and harassed,
|
|
his bright eyes the brighter for the dark shadows round them.
|
|
The carpet round his chair was littered with cigarette-ends and
|
|
with the early editions of the morning papers. An open telegram
|
|
lay upon the table.
|
|
|
|
"What do you think of this, Watson?" he asked, tossing it across.
|
|
|
|
It was from Norwood, and ran as follows:--
|
|
|
|
"IMPORTANT FRESH EVIDENCE TO HAND. MCFARLANE'S GUILT DEFINITELY
|
|
ESTABLISHED. ADVISE YOU TO ABANDON CASE. -- LESTRADE."
|
|
|
|
"This sounds serious," said I.
|
|
|
|
"It is Lestrade's little cock-a-doodle of victory," Holmes answered,
|
|
with a bitter smile. "And yet it may be premature to abandon the
|
|
case. After all, important fresh evidence is a two-edged thing,
|
|
and may possibly cut in a very different direction to that which
|
|
Lestrade imagines. Take your breakfast, Watson, and we will go out
|
|
together and see what we can do. I feel as if I shall need your
|
|
company and your moral support to-day."
|
|
|
|
My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his
|
|
peculiarities that in his more intense moments he would permit
|
|
himself no food, and I have known him presume upon his iron
|
|
strength until he has fainted from pure inanition. "At present
|
|
I cannot spare energy and nerve force for digestion," he would
|
|
say in answer to my medical remonstrances. I was not surprised,
|
|
therefore, when this morning he left his untouched meal behind
|
|
him and started with me for Norwood. A crowd of morbid
|
|
sightseers were still gathered round Deep Dene House, which was
|
|
just such a suburban villa as I had pictured. Within the gates
|
|
Lestrade met us, his face flushed with victory, his manner
|
|
grossly triumphant.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you proved us to be wrong yet? Have you
|
|
found your tramp?" he cried.
|
|
|
|
"I have formed no conclusion whatever," my companion answered.
|
|
|
|
"But we formed ours yesterday, and now it proves to be correct;
|
|
so you must acknowledge that we have been a little in front of
|
|
you this time, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"You certainly have the air of something unusual having occurred,"
|
|
said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
Lestrade laughed loudly.
|
|
|
|
"You don't like being beaten any more than the rest of us do,"
|
|
said he. "A man can't expect always to have it his own way,
|
|
can he, Dr. Watson? Step this way, if you please, gentlemen,
|
|
and I think I can convince you once for all that it was
|
|
John McFarlane who did this crime."
|
|
|
|
He led us through the passage and out into a dark hall beyond.
|
|
|
|
"This is where young McFarlane must have come out to get his hat
|
|
after the crime was done," said he. "Now, look at this." With
|
|
dramatic suddenness he struck a match and by its light exposed
|
|
a stain of blood upon the whitewashed wall. As he held the
|
|
match nearer I saw that it was more than a stain. It was the
|
|
well-marked print of a thumb.
|
|
|
|
"Look at that with your magnifying glass, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I am doing so."
|
|
|
|
"You are aware that no two thumb marks are alike?"
|
|
|
|
"I have heard something of the kind."
|
|
|
|
"Well, then, will you please compare that print with this wax
|
|
impression of young McFarlane's right thumb, taken by my orders
|
|
this morning?"
|
|
|
|
As he held the waxen print close to the blood-stain it did not
|
|
take a magnifying glass to see that the two were undoubtedly
|
|
from the same thumb. It was evident to me that our unfortunate
|
|
client was lost.
|
|
|
|
"That is final," said Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, that is final," I involuntarily echoed.
|
|
|
|
"It is final," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
Something in his tone caught my ear, and I turned to look at
|
|
him. An extraordinary change had come over his face. It was
|
|
writhing with inward merriment. His two eyes were shining like
|
|
stars. It seemed to me that he was making desperate efforts to
|
|
restrain a convulsive attack of laughter.
|
|
|
|
"Dear me! Dear me!" he said at last. "Well, now, who would
|
|
have thought it? And how deceptive appearances may be, to be
|
|
sure! Such a nice young man to look at! It is a lesson to us
|
|
not to trust our own judgment, is it not, Lestrade?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, some of us are a little too much inclined to be cocksure,
|
|
Mr. Holmes," said Lestrade. The man's insolence was maddening,
|
|
but we could not resent it.
|
|
|
|
"What a providential thing that this young man should press his
|
|
right thumb against the wall in taking his hat from the peg!
|
|
Such a very natural action, too, if you come to think of it."
|
|
Holmes was outwardly calm, but his whole body gave a wriggle
|
|
of suppressed excitement as he spoke. "By the way, Lestrade,
|
|
who made this remarkable discovery?"
|
|
|
|
"It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Lexington, who drew the night
|
|
constable's attention to it."
|
|
|
|
"Where was the night constable?"
|
|
|
|
"He remained on guard in the bedroom where the crime was
|
|
committed, so as to see that nothing was touched."
|
|
|
|
"But why didn't the police see this mark yesterday?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, we had no particular reason to make a careful examination
|
|
of the hall. Besides, it's not in a very prominent place,
|
|
as you see."
|
|
|
|
"No, no, of course not. I suppose there is no doubt that the
|
|
mark was there yesterday?"
|
|
|
|
Lestrade looked at Holmes as if he thought he was going out of
|
|
his mind. I confess that I was myself surprised both at his
|
|
hilarious manner and at his rather wild observation.
|
|
|
|
"I don't know whether you think that McFarlane came out of gaol
|
|
in the dead of the night in order to strengthen the evidence
|
|
against himself," said Lestrade. "I leave it to any expert in
|
|
the world whether that is not the mark of his thumb."
|
|
|
|
"It is unquestionably the mark of his thumb."
|
|
|
|
"There, that's enough," said Lestrade. "I am a practical man,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, and when I have got my evidence I come to my
|
|
conclusions. If you have anything to say you will find me
|
|
writing my report in the sitting-room."
|
|
|
|
Holmes had recovered his equanimity, though I still seemed to
|
|
detect gleams of amusement in his expression.
|
|
|
|
"Dear me, this is a very sad development, Watson, is it not?"
|
|
said he. "And yet there are singular points about it which
|
|
hold out some hopes for our client."
|
|
|
|
"I am delighted to hear it," said I, heartily. "I was afraid
|
|
it was all up with him."
|
|
|
|
"I would hardly go so far as to say that, my dear Watson.
|
|
The fact is that there is one really serious flaw in this
|
|
evidence to which our friend attaches so much importance."
|
|
|
|
"Indeed, Holmes! What is it?"
|
|
|
|
"Only this: that I KNOW that that mark was not there when
|
|
I examined the hall yesterday. And now, Watson, let us have
|
|
a little stroll round in the sunshine."
|
|
|
|
With a confused brain, but with a heart into which some warmth
|
|
of hope was returning, I accompanied my friend in a walk round
|
|
the garden. Holmes took each face of the house in turn and
|
|
examined it with great interest. He then led the way inside and
|
|
went over the whole building from basement to attics. Most of
|
|
the rooms were unfurnished, but none the less Holmes inspected
|
|
them all minutely. Finally, on the top corridor, which ran
|
|
outside three untenanted bedrooms, he again was seized with
|
|
a spasm of merriment.
|
|
|
|
"There are really some very unique features about this case,
|
|
Watson," said he. "I think it is time now that we took our
|
|
friend Lestrade into our confidence. He has had his little
|
|
smile at our expense, and perhaps we may do as much by him if
|
|
my reading of this problem proves to be correct. Yes, yes;
|
|
I think I see how we should approach it."
|
|
|
|
The Scotland Yard inspector was still writing in the parlour
|
|
when Holmes interrupted him.
|
|
|
|
"I understood that you were writing a report of this case," said he.
|
|
|
|
"So I am."
|
|
|
|
"Don't you think it may be a little premature? I can't help
|
|
thinking that your evidence is not complete."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade knew my friend too well to disregard his words.
|
|
He laid down his pen and looked curiously at him.
|
|
|
|
"What do you mean, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"Only that there is an important witness whom you have not seen."
|
|
|
|
"Can you produce him?"
|
|
|
|
"I think I can."
|
|
|
|
"Then do so."
|
|
|
|
"I will do my best. How many constables have you?"
|
|
|
|
"There are three within call."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent!" said Holmes. "May I ask if they are all large,
|
|
able-bodied men with powerful voices?"
|
|
|
|
"I have no doubt they are, though I fail to see what their
|
|
voices have to do with it."
|
|
|
|
"Perhaps I can help you to see that and one or two other things
|
|
as well," said Holmes. "Kindly summon your men, and I will try."
|
|
|
|
Five minutes later three policemen had assembled in the hall.
|
|
|
|
"In the outhouse you will find a considerable quantity of straw,"
|
|
said Holmes. "I will ask you to carry in two bundles of it.
|
|
I think it will be of the greatest assistance in producing the
|
|
witness whom I require. Thank you very much. I believe you
|
|
have some matches in your pocket, Watson. Now, Mr. Lestrade,
|
|
I will ask you all to accompany me to the top landing."
|
|
|
|
As I have said, there was a broad corridor there, which ran outside
|
|
three empty bedrooms. At one end of the corridor we were all
|
|
marshalled by Sherlock Holmes, the constables grinning and Lestrade
|
|
staring at my friend with amazement, expectation, and derision
|
|
chasing each other across his features. Holmes stood before us
|
|
with the air of a conjurer who is performing a trick.
|
|
|
|
"Would you kindly send one of your constables for two buckets
|
|
of water? Put the straw on the floor here, free from the wall
|
|
on either side. Now I think that we are all ready."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade's face had begun to grow red and angry.
|
|
|
|
"I don't know whether you are playing a game with us,
|
|
Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he. "If you know anything,
|
|
you can surely say it without all this tomfoolery."
|
|
|
|
"I assure you, my good Lestrade, that I have an excellent reason
|
|
for everything that I do. You may possibly remember that you
|
|
chaffed me a little some hours ago, when the sun seemed on your
|
|
side of the hedge, so you must not grudge me a little pomp and
|
|
ceremony now. Might I ask you, Watson, to open that window,
|
|
and then to put a match to the edge of the straw?"
|
|
|
|
I did so, and, driven by the draught, a coil of grey smoke swirled
|
|
down the corridor, while the dry straw crackled and flamed.
|
|
|
|
"Now we must see if we can find this witness for you, Lestrade.
|
|
Might I ask you all to join in the cry of `Fire!'? Now, then;
|
|
one, two, three ---"
|
|
|
|
"Fire!" we all yelled.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you. I will trouble you once again."
|
|
|
|
"Fire!"
|
|
|
|
"Just once more, gentlemen, and all together."
|
|
|
|
"Fire!" The shout must have rung over Norwood.
|
|
|
|
It had hardly died away when an amazing thing happened. A door
|
|
suddenly flew open out of what appeared to be solid wall at the
|
|
end of the corridor, and a little, wizened man darted out of it,
|
|
like a rabbit out of its burrow.
|
|
|
|
"Capital!" said Holmes, calmly. "Watson, a bucket of water over
|
|
the straw. That will do! Lestrade, allow me to present you
|
|
with your principal missing witness, Mr. Jonas Oldacre."
|
|
|
|
The detective stared at the new-comer with blank amazement.
|
|
The latter was blinking in the bright light of the corridor,
|
|
and peering at us and at the smouldering fire. It was an odious
|
|
face -- crafty, vicious, malignant, with shifty, light-grey eyes
|
|
and white eyelashes.
|
|
|
|
"What's this, then?" said Lestrade at last. "What have you
|
|
been doing all this time, eh?"
|
|
|
|
Oldacre gave an uneasy laugh, shrinking back from the furious
|
|
red face of the angry detective.
|
|
|
|
"I have done no harm."
|
|
|
|
"No harm? You have done your best to get an innocent man hanged.
|
|
If it wasn't for this gentleman here, I am not sure that you
|
|
would not have succeeded."
|
|
|
|
The wretched creature began to whimper.
|
|
|
|
"I am sure, sir, it was only my practical joke."
|
|
|
|
"Oh! a joke, was it? You won't find the laugh on your side,
|
|
I promise you. Take him down and keep him in the sitting-room
|
|
until I come. Mr. Holmes," he continued, when they had gone,
|
|
"I could not speak before the constables, but I don't mind saying,
|
|
in the presence of Dr. Watson, that this is the brightest thing
|
|
that you have done yet, though it is a mystery to me how you did
|
|
it. You have saved an innocent man's life, and you have
|
|
prevented a very grave scandal, which would have ruined my
|
|
reputation in the Force."
|
|
|
|
Holmes smiled and clapped Lestrade upon the shoulder.
|
|
|
|
"Instead of being ruined, my good sir, you will find that
|
|
your reputation has been enormously enhanced. Just make
|
|
a few alterations in that report which you were writing,
|
|
and they will understand how hard it is to throw dust
|
|
in the eyes of Inspector Lestrade."
|
|
|
|
"And you don't want your name to appear?"
|
|
|
|
"Not at all. The work is its own reward. Perhaps I shall get
|
|
the credit also at some distant day when I permit my zealous
|
|
historian to lay out his foolscap once more -- eh, Watson?
|
|
Well, now, let us see where this rat has been lurking."
|
|
|
|
A lath-and-plaster partition had been run across the passage
|
|
six feet from the end, with a door cunningly concealed in it.
|
|
It was lit within by slits under the eaves. A few articles of
|
|
furniture and a supply of food and water were within, together
|
|
with a number of books and papers.
|
|
|
|
"There's the advantage of being a builder," said Holmes,
|
|
as we came out. "He was able to fix up his own little
|
|
hiding-place without any confederate -- save, of course,
|
|
that precious housekeeper of his, whom I should lose no
|
|
time in adding to your bag, Lestrade."
|
|
|
|
"I'll take your advice. But how did you know of this place,
|
|
Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"I made up my mind that the fellow was in hiding in the house.
|
|
When I paced one corridor and found it six feet shorter than
|
|
the corresponding one below, it was pretty clear where he was.
|
|
I thought he had not the nerve to lie quiet before an alarm of
|
|
fire. We could, of course, have gone in and taken him, but it
|
|
amused me to make him reveal himself; besides, I owed you a
|
|
little mystification, Lestrade, for your chaff in the morning."
|
|
|
|
"Well, sir, you certainly got equal with me on that. But how
|
|
in the world did you know that he was in the house at all?"
|
|
|
|
"The thumb-mark, Lestrade. You said it was final; and so it was,
|
|
in a very different sense. I knew it had not been there the day
|
|
before. I pay a good deal of attention to matters of detail,
|
|
as you may have observed, and I had examined the hall and was
|
|
sure that the wall was clear. Therefore, it had been put on
|
|
during the night."
|
|
|
|
"But how?"
|
|
|
|
"Very simply. When those packets were sealed up, Jonas Oldacre
|
|
got McFarlane to secure one of the seals by putting his thumb
|
|
upon the soft wax. It would be done so quickly and so naturally
|
|
that I dare say the young man himself has no recollection of it.
|
|
Very likely it just so happened, and Oldacre had himself no
|
|
notion of the use he would put it to. Brooding over the case in
|
|
that den of his, it suddenly struck him what absolutely damning
|
|
evidence he could make against McFarlane by using that thumb-mark.
|
|
It was the simplest thing in the world for him to take a wax
|
|
impression from the seal, to moisten it in as much blood as he
|
|
could get from a pin-prick, and to put the mark upon the wall
|
|
during the night, either with his own hand or with that of his
|
|
housekeeper. If you examine among those documents which he took
|
|
with him into his retreat I will lay you a wager that you find
|
|
the seal with the thumb-mark upon it."
|
|
|
|
"Wonderful!" said Lestrade. "Wonderful! It's all as clear as
|
|
crystal, as you put it. But what is the object of this deep
|
|
deception, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
It was amusing to me to see how the detective's overbearing
|
|
manner had changed suddenly to that of a child asking questions
|
|
of its teacher.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I don't think that is very hard to explain. A very deep,
|
|
malicious, vindictive person is the gentleman who is now awaiting
|
|
us downstairs. You know that he was once refused by McFarlane's
|
|
mother? You don't! I told you that you should go to Blackheath
|
|
first and Norwood afterwards. Well, this injury, as he would
|
|
consider it, has rankled in his wicked, scheming brain, and all
|
|
his life he has longed for vengeance, but never seen his chance.
|
|
During the last year or two things have gone against him --
|
|
secret speculation, I think -- and he finds himself in a bad way.
|
|
He determines to swindle his creditors, and for this purpose he
|
|
pays large cheques to a certain Mr. Cornelius, who is, I imagine,
|
|
himself under another name. I have not traced these cheques yet,
|
|
but I have no doubt that they were banked under that name at some
|
|
provincial town where Oldacre from time to time led a double
|
|
existence. He intended to change his name altogether, draw this
|
|
money, and vanish, starting life again elsewhere."
|
|
|
|
"Well, that's likely enough."
|
|
|
|
"It would strike him that in disappearing he might throw all
|
|
pursuit off his track, and at the same time have an ample and
|
|
crushing revenge upon his old sweetheart, if he could give the
|
|
impression that he had been murdered by her only child. It was
|
|
a masterpiece of villainy, and he carried it out like a master.
|
|
The idea of the will, which would give an obvious motive for the
|
|
crime, the secret visit unknown to his own parents, the retention
|
|
of the stick, the blood, and the animal remains and buttons in the
|
|
wood-pile, all were admirable. It was a net from which it seemed
|
|
to me a few hours ago that there was no possible escape. But he
|
|
had not that supreme gift of the artist, the knowledge of when to
|
|
stop. He wished to improve that which was already perfect --
|
|
to draw the rope tighter yet round the neck of his unfortunate
|
|
victim -- and so he ruined all. Let us descend, Lestrade.
|
|
There are just one or two questions that I would ask him."
|
|
|
|
The malignant creature was seated in his own parlour with a
|
|
policeman upon each side of him.
|
|
|
|
"It was a joke, my good sir, a practical joke, nothing more,"
|
|
he whined incessantly. "I assure you, sir, that I simply
|
|
concealed myself in order to see the effect of my disappearance,
|
|
and I am sure that you would not be so unjust as to imagine that
|
|
I would have allowed any harm to befall poor young Mr. McFarlane."
|
|
|
|
"That's for a jury to decide," said Lestrade. "Anyhow, we shall
|
|
have you on a charge of conspiracy, if not for attempted murder."
|
|
|
|
"And you'll probably find that your creditors will impound the
|
|
banking account of Mr. Cornelius," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
The little man started and turned his malignant eyes upon my friend.
|
|
|
|
"I have to thank you for a good deal," said he. "Perhaps I'll
|
|
pay my debt some day."
|
|
|
|
Holmes smiled indulgently.
|
|
|
|
"I fancy that for some few years you will find your time very
|
|
fully occupied," said he. "By the way, what was it you put into
|
|
the wood-pile besides your old trousers? A dead dog, or rabbits,
|
|
or what? You won't tell? Dear me, how very unkind of you!
|
|
Well, well, I dare say that a couple of rabbits would account
|
|
both for the blood and for the charred ashes. If ever you write
|
|
an account, Watson, you can make rabbits serve your turn."
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 26 DECEMBER, 1903
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
III. --- The Adventure of the Dancing Men.
|
|
|
|
|
|
HOLMES had been seated for some hours in silence with his long,
|
|
thin back curved over a chemical vessel in which he was brewing
|
|
a particularly malodorous product. His head was sunk upon his
|
|
breast, and he looked from my point of view like a strange,
|
|
lank bird, with dull grey plumage and a black top-knot.
|
|
|
|
"So, Watson," said he, suddenly, "you do not propose to invest
|
|
in South African securities?"
|
|
|
|
I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holmes's
|
|
curious faculties, this sudden intrusion into my most intimate
|
|
thoughts was utterly inexplicable.
|
|
|
|
"How on earth do you know that?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
He wheeled round upon his stool, with a steaming test-tube
|
|
in his hand and a gleam of amusement in his deep-set eyes.
|
|
|
|
"Now, Watson, confess yourself utterly taken aback," said he.
|
|
|
|
"I am."
|
|
|
|
"I ought to make you sign a paper to that effect."
|
|
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
"Because in five minutes you will say that it is all so
|
|
absurdly simple."
|
|
|
|
"I am sure that I shall say nothing of the kind."
|
|
|
|
"You see, my dear Watson" -- he propped his test-tube in the
|
|
rack and began to lecture with the air of a professor addressing
|
|
his class -- "it is not really difficult to construct a series
|
|
of inferences, each dependent upon its predecessor and each
|
|
simple in itself. If, after doing so, one simply knocks out all
|
|
the central inferences and presents one's audience with the
|
|
starting-point and the conclusion, one may produce a startling,
|
|
though possibly a meretricious, effect. Now, it was not really
|
|
difficult, by an inspection of the groove between your left
|
|
forefinger and thumb, to feel sure that you did NOT propose
|
|
to invest your small capital in the goldfields."
|
|
|
|
"I see no connection."
|
|
|
|
"Very likely not; but I can quickly show you a close connection.
|
|
Here are the missing links of the very simple chain: 1. You had
|
|
chalk between your left finger and thumb when you returned from the
|
|
club last night. 2. You put chalk there when you play billiards to
|
|
steady the cue. 3. You never play billiards except with Thurston.
|
|
4. You told me four weeks ago that Thurston had an option on some
|
|
South African property which would expire in a month, and which he
|
|
desired you to share with him. 5. Your cheque-book is locked in my
|
|
drawer, and you have not asked for the key. 6. You do not propose
|
|
to invest your money in this manner."
|
|
|
|
"How absurdly simple!" I cried.
|
|
|
|
"Quite so!" said he, a little nettled. "Every problem becomes
|
|
very childish when once it is explained to you. Here is an
|
|
unexplained one. See what you can make of that, friend Watson."
|
|
He tossed a sheet of paper upon the table and turned once more
|
|
to his chemical analysis.
|
|
|
|
I looked with amazement at the absurd hieroglyphics upon the paper.
|
|
|
|
"Why, Holmes, it is a child's drawing," I cried.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, that's your idea!"
|
|
|
|
"What else should it be?"
|
|
|
|
"That is what Mr. Hilton Cubitt, of Riding Thorpe Manor, Norfolk,
|
|
is very anxious to know. This little conundrum came by the first
|
|
post, and he was to follow by the next train. There's a ring at the
|
|
bell, Watson. I should not be very much surprised if this were he."
|
|
|
|
A heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and an instant later
|
|
there entered a tall, ruddy, clean-shaven gentleman, whose clear
|
|
eyes and florid cheeks told of a life led far from the fogs of
|
|
Baker Street. He seemed to bring a whiff of his strong, fresh,
|
|
bracing, east-coast air with him as he entered. Having shaken
|
|
hands with each of us, he was about to sit down when his eye
|
|
rested upon the paper with the curious markings, which I had
|
|
just examined and left upon the table.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these?" he cried.
|
|
"They told me that you were fond of queer mysteries, and I don't
|
|
think you can find a queerer one than that. I sent the paper on
|
|
ahead so that you might have time to study it before I came."
|
|
|
|
"It is certainly rather a curious production," said Holmes.
|
|
"At first sight it would appear to be some childish prank.
|
|
It consists of a number of absurd little figures dancing across
|
|
the paper upon which they are drawn. Why should you attribute
|
|
any importance to so grotesque an object?"
|
|
|
|
"I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does. It is frightening
|
|
her to death. She says nothing, but I can see terror in her eyes.
|
|
That's why I want to sift the matter to the bottom."
|
|
|
|
Holmes held up the paper so that the sunlight shone full upon it.
|
|
It was a page torn from a note-book. The markings were done in
|
|
pencil, and ran in this way:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
Holmes examined it for some time, and then, folding it carefully up,
|
|
he placed it in his pocket-book.
|
|
|
|
"This promises to be a most interesting and unusual case," said he.
|
|
"You gave me a few particulars in your letter, Mr. Hilton Cubitt,
|
|
but I should be very much obliged if you would kindly go over it
|
|
all again for the benefit of my friend, Dr. Watson."
|
|
|
|
"I'm not much of a story-teller," said our visitor, nervously
|
|
clasping and unclasping his great, strong hands. "You'll just
|
|
ask me anything that I don't make clear. I'll begin at the time
|
|
of my marriage last year; but I want to say first of all that,
|
|
though I'm not a rich man, my people have been at Ridling Thorpe
|
|
for a matter of five centuries, and there is no better known
|
|
family in the County of Norfolk. Last year I came up to London
|
|
for the Jubilee, and I stopped at a boarding-house in Russell
|
|
Square, because Parker, the vicar of our parish, was staying in
|
|
it. There was an American young lady there -- Patrick was the
|
|
name -- Elsie Patrick. In some way we became friends, until
|
|
before my month was up I was as much in love as a man could be.
|
|
We were quietly married at a registry office, and we returned to
|
|
Norfolk a wedded couple. You'll think it very mad, Mr. Holmes,
|
|
that a man of a good old family should marry a wife in this
|
|
fashion, knowing nothing of her past or of her people; but if
|
|
you saw her and knew her it would help you to understand.
|
|
|
|
"She was very straight about it, was Elsie. I can't say
|
|
that she did not give me every chance of getting out of it
|
|
if I wished to do so. `I have had some very disagreeable
|
|
associations in my life,' said she; `I wish to forget all about
|
|
them. I would rather never allude to the past, for it is very
|
|
painful to me. If you take me, Hilton, you will take a woman who
|
|
has nothing that she need be personally ashamed of; but you will
|
|
have to be content with my word for it, and to allow me to be
|
|
silent as to all that passed up to the time when I became yours.
|
|
If these conditions are too hard, then go back to Norfolk and
|
|
leave me to the lonely life in which you found me.' It was only
|
|
the day before our wedding that she said those very words to me.
|
|
I told her that I was content to take her on her own terms, and
|
|
I have been as good as my word.
|
|
|
|
"Well, we have been married now for a year, and very happy we
|
|
have been. But about a month ago, at the end of June, I saw
|
|
for the first time signs of trouble. One day my wife received
|
|
a letter from America. I saw the American stamp. She turned
|
|
deadly white, read the letter, and threw it into the fire.
|
|
She made no allusion to it afterwards, and I made none, for a
|
|
promise is a promise; but she has never known an easy hour from
|
|
that moment. There is always a look of fear upon her face --
|
|
a look as if she were waiting and expecting. She would do
|
|
better to trust me. She would find that I was her best friend.
|
|
But until she speaks I can say nothing. Mind you, she is a
|
|
truthful woman, Mr. Holmes, and whatever trouble there may have
|
|
been in her past life it has been no fault of hers. I am only
|
|
a simple Norfolk squire, but there is not a man in England who
|
|
ranks his family honour more highly than I do. She knows it well,
|
|
and she knew it well before she married me. She would never
|
|
bring any stain upon it -- of that I am sure.
|
|
|
|
"Well, now I come to the queer part of my story. About a week
|
|
ago -- it was the Tuesday of last week -- I found on one of the
|
|
window-sills a number of absurd little dancing figures, like
|
|
these upon the paper. They were scrawled with chalk. I thought
|
|
that it was the stable-boy who had drawn them, but the lad swore
|
|
he knew nothing about it. Anyhow, they had come there during
|
|
the night. I had them washed out, and I only mentioned the
|
|
matter to my wife afterwards. To my surprise she took it very
|
|
seriously, and begged me if any more came to let her see them.
|
|
None did come for a week, and then yesterday morning I found
|
|
this paper lying on the sun-dial in the garden. I showed it to
|
|
Elsie, and down she dropped in a dead faint. Since then she has
|
|
looked like a woman in a dream, half dazed, and with terror
|
|
always lurking in her eyes. It was then that I wrote and sent
|
|
the paper to you, Mr. Holmes. It was not a thing that I could
|
|
take to the police, for they would have laughed at me, but you
|
|
will tell me what to do. I am not a rich man; but if there is
|
|
any danger threatening my little woman I would spend my last
|
|
copper to shield her."
|
|
|
|
He was a fine creature, this man of the old English soil,
|
|
simple, straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest blue eyes
|
|
and broad, comely face. His love for his wife and his trust in
|
|
her shone in his features. Holmes had listened to his story
|
|
with the utmost attention, and now he sat for some time in
|
|
silent thought.
|
|
|
|
"Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt," said he, at last, "that your best
|
|
plan would be to make a direct appeal to your wife, and to ask
|
|
her to share her secret with you?"
|
|
|
|
Hilton Cubitt shook his massive head.
|
|
|
|
"A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to tell
|
|
me she would. If not, it is not for me to force her confidence.
|
|
But I am justified in taking my own line -- and I will."
|
|
|
|
"Then I will help you with all my heart. In the first place,
|
|
have you heard of any strangers being seen in your neighbourhood?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"I presume that it is a very quiet place. Any fresh face would
|
|
cause comment?"
|
|
|
|
"In the immediate neighbourhood, yes. But we have several small
|
|
watering-places not very far away. And the farmers take in lodgers."
|
|
|
|
"These hieroglyphics have evidently a meaning. If it is a
|
|
purely arbitrary one it may be impossible for us to solve it.
|
|
If, on the other hand, it is systematic, I have no doubt that
|
|
we shall get to the bottom of it. But this particular sample
|
|
is so short that I can do nothing, and the facts which you have
|
|
brought me are so indefinite that we have no basis for an
|
|
investigation. I would suggest that you return to Norfolk,
|
|
that you keep a keen look-out, and that you take an exact copy
|
|
of any fresh dancing men which may appear. It is a thousand
|
|
pities that we have not a reproduction of those which were done
|
|
in chalk upon the window-sill. Make a discreet inquiry also as
|
|
to any strangers in the neighbourhood. When you have collected
|
|
some fresh evidence come to me again. That is the best advice
|
|
which I can give you, Mr. Hilton Cubitt. If there are any
|
|
pressing fresh developments I shall be always ready to run down
|
|
and see you in your Norfolk home."
|
|
|
|
The interview left Sherlock Holmes very thoughtful, and several
|
|
times in the next few days I saw him take his slip of paper from
|
|
his note-book and look long and earnestly at the curious figures
|
|
inscribed upon it. He made no allusion to the affair, however,
|
|
until one afternoon a fortnight or so later. I was going out
|
|
when he called me back.
|
|
|
|
"You had better stay here, Watson."
|
|
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
"Because I had a wire from Hilton Cubitt this morning -- you
|
|
remember Hilton Cubitt, of the dancing men? He was to reach
|
|
Liverpool Street at one-twenty. He may be here at any moment.
|
|
I gather from his wire that there have been some new incidents
|
|
of importance."
|
|
|
|
We had not long to wait, for our Norfolk squire came straight from
|
|
the station as fast as a hansom could bring him. He was looking
|
|
worried and depressed, with tired eyes and a lined forehead.
|
|
|
|
"It's getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes," said he,
|
|
as he sank, like a wearied man, into an arm-chair. "It's bad
|
|
enough to feel that you are surrounded by unseen, unknown folk,
|
|
who have some kind of design upon you; but when, in addition to
|
|
that, you know that it is just killing your wife by inches, then
|
|
it becomes as much as flesh and blood can endure. She's wearing
|
|
away under it -- just wearing away before my eyes."
|
|
|
|
"Has she said anything yet?"
|
|
|
|
"No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been times
|
|
when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could not quite
|
|
bring herself to take the plunge. I have tried to help her;
|
|
but I dare say I did it clumsily, and scared her off from it.
|
|
She has spoken about my old family, and our reputation in the county,
|
|
and our pride in our unsullied honour, and I always felt it was
|
|
leading to the point; but somehow it turned off before we got there."
|
|
|
|
"But you have found out something for yourself?"
|
|
|
|
"A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancing men
|
|
pictures for you to examine, and, what is more important,
|
|
I have seen the fellow."
|
|
|
|
"What, the man who draws them?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I saw him at his work. But I will tell you everything
|
|
in order. When I got back after my visit to you, the very first
|
|
thing I saw next morning was a fresh crop of dancing men.
|
|
They had been drawn in chalk upon the black wooden door of the
|
|
tool-house, which stands beside the lawn in full view of the
|
|
front windows. I took an exact copy, and here it is."
|
|
He unfolded a paper and laid it upon the table. Here is a copy
|
|
of the hieroglyphics:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
"Excellent!" said Holmes. "Excellent! Pray continue."
|
|
|
|
"When I had taken the copy I rubbed out the marks;
|
|
but two mornings later a fresh inscription had appeared.
|
|
I have a copy of it here":--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
Holmes rubbed his hands and chuckled with delight.
|
|
|
|
"Our material is rapidly accumulating," said he.
|
|
|
|
"Three days later a message was left scrawled upon paper,
|
|
and placed under a pebble upon the sun-dial. Here it is.
|
|
The characters are, as you see, exactly the same as the last one.
|
|
After that I determined to lie in wait; so I got out my revolver
|
|
and I sat up in my study, which overlooks the lawn and garden.
|
|
About two in the morning I was seated by the window, all being
|
|
dark save for the moonlight outside, when I heard steps behind
|
|
me, and there was my wife in her dressing-gown. She implored me
|
|
to come to bed. I told her frankly that I wished to see who it
|
|
was who played such absurd tricks upon us. She answered that it
|
|
was some senseless practical joke, and that I should not take
|
|
any notice of it.
|
|
|
|
"`If it really annoys you, Hilton, we might go and travel,
|
|
you and I, and so avoid this nuisance.'
|
|
|
|
"`What, be driven out of our own house by a practical joker?'
|
|
said I. `Why, we should have the whole county laughing at us.'
|
|
|
|
"`Well, come to bed,' said she, `and we can discuss it
|
|
in the morning.'
|
|
|
|
"Suddenly, as she spoke, I saw her white face grow whiter yet
|
|
in the moonlight, and her hand tightened upon my shoulder.
|
|
Something was moving in the shadow of the tool-house. I saw a
|
|
dark, creeping figure which crawled round the corner and
|
|
squatted in front of the door. Seizing my pistol I was rushing
|
|
out, when my wife threw her arms round me and held me with
|
|
convulsive strength. I tried to throw her off, but she clung
|
|
to me most desperately. At last I got clear, but by the time
|
|
I had opened the door and reached the house the creature was gone.
|
|
He had left a trace of his presence, however, for there on the
|
|
door was the very same arrangement of dancing men which had
|
|
already twice appeared, and which I have copied on that paper.
|
|
There was no other sign of the fellow anywhere, though I ran all
|
|
over the grounds. And yet the amazing thing is that he must have
|
|
been there all the time, for when I examined the door again in
|
|
the morning he had scrawled some more of his pictures under the
|
|
line which I had already seen."
|
|
|
|
"Have you that fresh drawing?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; it is very short, but I made a copy of it, and here it is."
|
|
|
|
Again he produced a paper. The new dance was in this form:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
"Tell me," said Holmes -- and I could see by his eyes that
|
|
he was much excited -- "was this a mere addition to the first,
|
|
or did it appear to be entirely separate?"
|
|
|
|
"It was on a different panel of the door."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent! This is far the most important of all for our
|
|
purpose. It fills me with hopes. Now, Mr. Hilton Cubitt,
|
|
please continue your most interesting statement."
|
|
|
|
"I have nothing more to say, Mr. Holmes, except that I was angry
|
|
with my wife that night for having held me back when I might
|
|
have caught the skulking rascal. She said that she feared that
|
|
I might come to harm. For an instant it had crossed my mind
|
|
that perhaps what she really feared was that HE might come to
|
|
harm, for I could not doubt that she knew who this man was and
|
|
what he meant by these strange signals. But there is a tone in
|
|
my wife's voice, Mr. Holmes, and a look in her eyes which forbid
|
|
doubt, and I am sure that it was indeed my own safety that was
|
|
in her mind. There's the whole case, and now I want your advice
|
|
as to what I ought to do. My own inclination is to put
|
|
half-a-dozen of my farm lads in the shrubbery, and when this
|
|
fellow comes again to give him such a hiding that he will leave
|
|
us in peace for the future."
|
|
|
|
"I fear it is too deep a case for such simple remedies,"
|
|
said Holmes. "How long can you stay in London?"
|
|
|
|
"I must go back to-day. I would not leave my wife alone all night
|
|
for anything. She is very nervous and begged me to come back."
|
|
|
|
"I dare say you are right. But if you could have stopped I
|
|
might possibly have been able to return with you in a day or
|
|
two. Meanwhile you will leave me these papers, and I think
|
|
that it is very likely that I shall be able to pay you a visit
|
|
shortly and to throw some light upon your case."
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes preserved his calm professional manner until our
|
|
visitor had left us, although it was easy for me, who knew him
|
|
so well, to see that he was profoundly excited. The moment that
|
|
Hilton Cubitt's broad back had disappeared through the door my
|
|
comrade rushed to the table, laid out all the slips of paper
|
|
containing dancing men in front of him, and threw himself into
|
|
an intricate and elaborate calculation. For two hours I watched
|
|
him as he covered sheet after sheet of paper with figures and
|
|
letters, so completely absorbed in his task that he had
|
|
evidently forgotten my presence. Sometimes he was making
|
|
progress and whistled and sang at his work; sometimes he was
|
|
puzzled, and would sit for long spells with a furrowed brow and
|
|
a vacant eye. Finally he sprang from his chair with a cry of
|
|
satisfaction, and walked up and down the room rubbing his hands
|
|
together. Then he wrote a long telegram upon a cable form. "If
|
|
my answer to this is as I hope, you will have a very pretty case
|
|
to add to your collection, Watson," said he. "I expect that we
|
|
shall be able to go down to Norfolk to-morrow, and to take our
|
|
friend some very definite news as to the secret of his annoyance."
|
|
|
|
I confess that I was filled with curiosity, but I was aware that
|
|
Holmes liked to make his disclosures at his own time and in his
|
|
own way; so I waited until it should suit him to take me into
|
|
his confidence.
|
|
|
|
But there was a delay in that answering telegram, and two days
|
|
of impatience followed, during which Holmes pricked up his ears
|
|
at every ring of the bell. On the evening of the second there
|
|
came a letter from Hilton Cubitt. All was quiet with him,
|
|
save that a long inscription had appeared that morning upon the
|
|
pedestal of the sun-dial. He inclosed a copy of it, which is
|
|
here reproduced:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
Holmes bent over this grotesque frieze for some minutes,
|
|
and then suddenly sprang to his feet with an exclamation
|
|
of surprise and dismay. His face was haggard with anxiety.
|
|
|
|
"We have let this affair go far enough," said he.
|
|
"Is there a train to North Walsham to-night?"
|
|
|
|
I turned up the time-table. The last had just gone.
|
|
|
|
"Then we shall breakfast early and take the very first in the
|
|
morning," said Holmes. "Our presence is most urgently needed.
|
|
Ah! here is our expected cablegram. One moment, Mrs. Hudson;
|
|
there may be an answer. No, that is quite as I expected.
|
|
This message makes it even more essential that we should not
|
|
lose an hour in letting Hilton Cubitt know how matters stand,
|
|
for it is a singular and a dangerous web in which our simple
|
|
Norfolk squire is entangled."
|
|
|
|
So, indeed, it proved, and as I come to the dark conclusion of
|
|
a story which had seemed to me to be only childish and bizarre
|
|
I experience once again the dismay and horror with which I was
|
|
filled. Would that I had some brighter ending to communicate
|
|
to my readers, but these are the chronicles of fact, and I must
|
|
follow to their dark crisis the strange chain of events which
|
|
for some days made Ridling Thorpe Manor a household word through
|
|
the length and breadth of England.
|
|
|
|
We had hardly alighted at North Walsham, and mentioned the name
|
|
of our destination, when the station-master hurried towards us.
|
|
"I suppose that you are the detectives from London?" said he.
|
|
|
|
A look of annoyance passed over Holmes's face.
|
|
|
|
"What makes you think such a thing?"
|
|
|
|
"Because Inspector Martin from Norwich has just passed through.
|
|
But maybe you are the surgeons. She's not dead -- or wasn't by
|
|
last accounts. You may be in time to save her yet -- though it
|
|
be for the gallows."
|
|
|
|
Holmes's brow was dark with anxiety.
|
|
|
|
"We are going to Ridling Thorpe Manor," said he, "but we have
|
|
heard nothing of what has passed there."
|
|
|
|
"It's a terrible business," said the station-master. "They are
|
|
shot, both Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She shot him and
|
|
then herself -- so the servants say. He's dead and her life
|
|
is despaired of. Dear, dear, one of the oldest families in the
|
|
County of Norfolk, and one of the most honoured."
|
|
|
|
Without a word Holmes hurried to a carriage, and during the long
|
|
seven miles' drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom have I
|
|
seen him so utterly despondent. He had been uneasy during all
|
|
our journey from town, and I had observed that he had turned
|
|
over the morning papers with anxious attention; but now this
|
|
sudden realization of his worst fears left him in a blank
|
|
melancholy. He leaned back in his seat, lost in gloomy
|
|
speculation. Yet there was much around to interest us,
|
|
for we were passing through as singular a country-side as
|
|
any in England, where a few scattered cottages represented
|
|
the population of to-day, while on every hand enormous
|
|
square-towered churches bristled up from the flat, green
|
|
landscape and told of the glory and prosperity of old East
|
|
Anglia. At last the violet rim of the German Ocean appeared
|
|
over the green edge of the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed
|
|
with his whip to two old brick and timber gables which projected
|
|
from a grove of trees. "That's Ridling Thorpe Manor," said he.
|
|
|
|
As we drove up to the porticoed front door I observed in front
|
|
of it, beside the tennis lawn, the black tool-house and the
|
|
pedestalled sun-dial with which we had such strange associations.
|
|
A dapper little man, with a quick, alert manner and a waxed
|
|
moustache, had just descended from a high dog-cart.
|
|
He introduced himself as Inspector Martin, of the Norfolk
|
|
Constabulary, and he was considerably astonished when he heard
|
|
the name of my companion.
|
|
|
|
"Why, Mr. Holmes, the crime was only committed at three this
|
|
morning. How could you hear of it in London and get to the spot
|
|
as soon as I?"
|
|
|
|
"I anticipated it. I came in the hope of preventing it."
|
|
|
|
"Then you must have important evidence of which we are ignorant,
|
|
for they were said to be a most united couple."
|
|
|
|
"I have only the evidence of the dancing men," said Holmes.
|
|
"I will explain the matter to you later. Meanwhile, since it
|
|
is too late to prevent this tragedy, I am very anxious that I
|
|
should use the knowledge which I possess in order to ensure that
|
|
justice be done. Will you associate me in your investigation,
|
|
or will you prefer that I should act independently?"
|
|
|
|
"I should be proud to feel that we were acting together,
|
|
Mr. Holmes," said the inspector, earnestly.
|
|
|
|
"In that case I should be glad to hear the evidence and to
|
|
examine the premises without an instant of unnecessary delay."
|
|
|
|
Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to do
|
|
things in his own fashion, and contented himself with carefully
|
|
noting the results. The local surgeon, an old, white-haired
|
|
man, had just come down from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt's room, and he
|
|
reported that her injuries were serious, but not necessarily
|
|
fatal. The bullet had passed through the front of her brain,
|
|
and it would probably be some time before she could regain
|
|
consciousness. On the question of whether she had been shot or
|
|
had shot herself he would not venture to express any decided
|
|
opinion. Certainly the bullet had been discharged at very close
|
|
quarters. There was only the one pistol found in the room,
|
|
two barrels of which had been emptied. Mr. Hilton Cubitt had
|
|
been shot through the heart. It was equally conceivable that he
|
|
had shot her and then himself, or that she had been the criminal,
|
|
for the revolver lay upon the floor midway between them.
|
|
|
|
"Has he been moved?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"We have moved nothing except the lady. We could not leave her
|
|
lying wounded upon the floor."
|
|
|
|
"How long have you been here, doctor?"
|
|
|
|
"Since four o'clock."
|
|
|
|
"Anyone else?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, the constable here."
|
|
|
|
"And you have touched nothing?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing."
|
|
|
|
"You have acted with great discretion. Who sent for you?"
|
|
|
|
"The housemaid, Saunders."
|
|
|
|
"Was it she who gave the alarm?"
|
|
|
|
"She and Mrs. King, the cook."
|
|
|
|
"Where are they now?"
|
|
|
|
"In the kitchen, I believe."
|
|
|
|
"Then I think we had better hear their story at once."
|
|
|
|
The old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, had been turned
|
|
into a court of investigation. Holmes sat in a great,
|
|
old-fashioned chair, his inexorable eyes gleaming out of his
|
|
haggard face. I could read in them a set purpose to devote his
|
|
life to this quest until the client whom he had failed to save
|
|
should at last be avenged. The trim Inspector Martin, the old,
|
|
grey-headed country doctor, myself, and a stolid village
|
|
policeman made up the rest of that strange company.
|
|
|
|
The two women told their story clearly enough. They had been
|
|
aroused from their sleep by the sound of an explosion, which had
|
|
been followed a minute later by a second one. They slept in
|
|
adjoining rooms, and Mrs. King had rushed in to Saunders.
|
|
Together they had descended the stairs. The door of the study
|
|
was open and a candle was burning upon the table. Their master
|
|
lay upon his face in the centre of the room. He was quite dead.
|
|
Near the window his wife was crouching, her head leaning against
|
|
the wall. She was horribly wounded, and the side of her face
|
|
was red with blood. She breathed heavily, but was incapable of
|
|
saying anything. The passage, as well as the room, was full of
|
|
smoke and the smell of powder. The window was certainly shut
|
|
and fastened upon the inside. Both women were positive upon
|
|
the point. They had at once sent for the doctor and for the
|
|
constable. Then, with the aid of the groom and the stable-boy,
|
|
they had conveyed their injured mistress to her room. Both she
|
|
and her husband had occupied the bed. She was clad in her dress
|
|
-- he in his dressing-gown, over his night clothes. Nothing had
|
|
been moved in the study. So far as they knew there had never
|
|
been any quarrel between husband and wife. They had always
|
|
looked upon them as a very united couple.
|
|
|
|
These were the main points of the servants' evidence. In answer
|
|
to Inspector Martin they were clear that every door was fastened
|
|
upon the inside, and that no one could have escaped from the
|
|
house. In answer to Holmes they both remembered that they were
|
|
conscious of the smell of powder from the moment that they ran
|
|
out of their rooms upon the top floor. "I commend that fact
|
|
very carefully to your attention," said Holmes to his
|
|
professional colleague. "And now I think that we are in a
|
|
position to undertake a thorough examination of the room."
|
|
|
|
The study proved to be a small chamber, lined on three sides
|
|
with books, and with a writing-table facing an ordinary window,
|
|
which looked out upon the garden. Our first attention was given
|
|
to the body of the unfortunate squire, whose huge frame lay
|
|
stretched across the room. His disordered dress showed that he
|
|
had been hastily aroused from sleep. The bullet had been fired
|
|
at him from the front, and had remained in his body after
|
|
penetrating the heart. His death had certainly been instantaneous
|
|
and painless. There was no powder-marking either upon his
|
|
dressing-gown or on his hands. According to the country surgeon
|
|
the lady had stains upon her face, but none upon her hand.
|
|
|
|
"The absence of the latter means nothing, though its presence
|
|
may mean everything," said Holmes. "Unless the powder from
|
|
a badly-fitting cartridge happens to spurt backwards, one may
|
|
fire many shots without leaving a sign. I would suggest that
|
|
Mr. Cubitt's body may now be removed. I suppose, doctor,
|
|
you have not recovered the bullet which wounded the lady?"
|
|
|
|
"A serious operation will be necessary before that can be done.
|
|
But there are still four cartridges in the revolver. Two have
|
|
been fired and two wounds inflicted, so that each bullet can be
|
|
accounted for."
|
|
|
|
"So it would seem," said Holmes. "Perhaps you can account also for
|
|
the bullet which has so obviously struck the edge of the window?"
|
|
|
|
He had turned suddenly, and his long, thin finger was pointing
|
|
to a hole which had been drilled right through the lower
|
|
window-sash about an inch above the bottom.
|
|
|
|
"By George!" cried the inspector. "How ever did you see that?"
|
|
|
|
"Because I looked for it."
|
|
|
|
"Wonderful!" said the country doctor. "You are certainly right,
|
|
sir. Then a third shot has been fired, and therefore a third
|
|
person must have been present. But who could that have been
|
|
and how could he have got away?"
|
|
|
|
"That is the problem which we are now about to solve," said
|
|
Sherlock Holmes. "You remember, Inspector Martin, when the
|
|
servants said that on leaving their room they were at once
|
|
conscious of a smell of powder I remarked that the point was
|
|
an extremely important one?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; but I confess I did not quite follow you."
|
|
|
|
"It suggested that at the time of the firing the window as well
|
|
as the door of the room had been open. Otherwise the fumes of
|
|
powder could not have been blown so rapidly through the house.
|
|
A draught in the room was necessary for that. Both door and
|
|
window were only open for a very short time, however."
|
|
|
|
"How do you prove that?"
|
|
|
|
"Because the candle has not guttered."
|
|
|
|
"Capital!" cried the inspector. "Capital!"
|
|
|
|
"Feeling sure that the window had been open at the time of the
|
|
tragedy I conceived that there might have been a third person in
|
|
the affair, who stood outside this opening and fired through it.
|
|
Any shot directed at this person might hit the sash. I looked,
|
|
and there, sure enough, was the bullet mark!"
|
|
|
|
"But how came the window to be shut and fastened?"
|
|
|
|
"The woman's first instinct would be to shut and fasten the window.
|
|
But, halloa! what is this?"
|
|
|
|
It was a lady's hand-bag which stood upon the study table --
|
|
a trim little hand-bag of crocodile-skin and silver. Holmes
|
|
opened it and turned the contents out. There were twenty
|
|
fifty-pound notes of the Bank of England, held together by an
|
|
india-rubber band -- nothing else.
|
|
|
|
"This must be preserved, for it will figure in the trial," said
|
|
Holmes, as he handed the bag with its contents to the inspector.
|
|
"It is now necessary that we should try to throw some light upon
|
|
this third bullet, which has clearly, from the splintering of
|
|
the wood, been fired from inside the room. I should like to see
|
|
Mrs. King, the cook, again. You said, Mrs. King, that you were
|
|
awakened by a LOUD explosion. When you said that, did you mean
|
|
that it seemed to you to be louder than the second one?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, sir, it wakened me from my sleep, and so it is hard to judge.
|
|
But it did seem very loud."
|
|
|
|
"You don't think that it might have been two shots fired almost
|
|
at the same instant?"
|
|
|
|
"I am sure I couldn't say, sir."
|
|
|
|
"I believe that it was undoubtedly so. I rather think,
|
|
Inspector Martin, that we have now exhausted all that this room
|
|
can teach us. If you will kindly step round with me, we shall
|
|
see what fresh evidence the garden has to offer."
|
|
|
|
A flower-bed extended up to the study window, and we all broke
|
|
into an exclamation as we approached it. The flowers were
|
|
trampled down, and the soft soil was imprinted all over with
|
|
footmarks. Large, masculine feet they were, with peculiarly long,
|
|
sharp toes. Holmes hunted about among the grass and leaves like a
|
|
retriever after a wounded bird. Then, with a cry of satisfaction,
|
|
he bent forward and picked up a little brazen cylinder.
|
|
|
|
"I thought so," said he; "the revolver had an ejector, and here
|
|
is the third cartridge. I really think, Inspector Martin, that
|
|
our case is almost complete."
|
|
|
|
The country inspector's face had shown his intense amazement
|
|
at the rapid and masterful progress of Holmes's investigation.
|
|
At first he had shown some disposition to assert his own position;
|
|
but now he was overcome with admiration and ready to follow
|
|
without question wherever Holmes led.
|
|
|
|
"Whom do you suspect?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"I'll go into that later. There are several points in this
|
|
problem which I have not been able to explain to you yet.
|
|
Now that I have got so far I had best proceed on my own lines,
|
|
and then clear the whole matter up once and for all."
|
|
|
|
"Just as you wish, Mr. Holmes, so long as we get our man."
|
|
|
|
"I have no desire to make mysteries, but it is impossible at the
|
|
moment of action to enter into long and complex explanations.
|
|
I have the threads of this affair all in my hand. Even if this
|
|
lady should never recover consciousness we can still reconstruct
|
|
the events of last night and ensure that justice be done.
|
|
First of all I wish to know whether there is any inn in this
|
|
neighbourhood known as `Elrige's'?"
|
|
|
|
The servants were cross-questioned, but none of them had heard
|
|
of such a place. The stable-boy threw a light upon the matter
|
|
by remembering that a farmer of that name lived some miles off
|
|
in the direction of East Ruston.
|
|
|
|
"Is it a lonely farm?"
|
|
|
|
"Very lonely, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Perhaps they have not heard yet of all that happened here
|
|
during the night?"
|
|
|
|
"Maybe not, sir."
|
|
|
|
Holmes thought for a little and then a curious smile played
|
|
over his face.
|
|
|
|
"Saddle a horse, my lad," said he. "I shall wish you to take
|
|
a note to Elrige's Farm."
|
|
|
|
He took from his pocket the various slips of the dancing men.
|
|
With these in front of him he worked for some time at the
|
|
study-table. Finally he handed a note to the boy, with
|
|
directions to put it into the hands of the person to whom it was
|
|
addressed, and especially to answer no questions of any sort
|
|
which might be put to him. I saw the outside of the note,
|
|
addressed in straggling, irregular characters, very unlike
|
|
Holmes's usual precise hand. It was consigned to Mr. Abe
|
|
Slaney, Elrige's Farm, East Ruston, Norfolk.
|
|
|
|
"I think, inspector," Holmes remarked, "that you would do well
|
|
to telegraph for an escort, as, if my calculations prove to be
|
|
correct, you may have a particularly dangerous prisoner to
|
|
convey to the county gaol. The boy who takes this note could
|
|
no doubt forward your telegram. If there is an afternoon train
|
|
to town, Watson, I think we should do well to take it, as I have
|
|
a chemical analysis of some interest to finish, and this
|
|
investigation draws rapidly to a close."
|
|
|
|
When the youth had been dispatched with the note, Sherlock
|
|
Holmes gave his instructions to the servants. If any visitor
|
|
were to call asking for Mrs. Hilton Cubitt no information should
|
|
be given as to her condition, but he was to be shown at once
|
|
into the drawing-room. He impressed these points upon them with
|
|
the utmost earnestness. Finally he led the way into the
|
|
drawing-room with the remark that the business was now out of our
|
|
hands, and that we must while away the time as best we might until
|
|
we could see what was in store for us. The doctor had departed
|
|
to his patients, and only the inspector and myself remained.
|
|
|
|
"I think that I can help you to pass an hour in an interesting
|
|
and profitable manner," said Holmes, drawing his chair up to the
|
|
table and spreading out in front of him the various papers upon
|
|
which were recorded the antics of the dancing men. "As to you,
|
|
friend Watson, I owe you every atonement for having allowed your
|
|
natural curiosity to remain so long unsatisfied. To you,
|
|
inspector, the whole incident may appeal as a remarkable
|
|
professional study. I must tell you first of all the
|
|
interesting circumstances connected with the previous
|
|
consultations which Mr. Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker
|
|
Street." He then shortly recapitulated the facts which have
|
|
already been recorded. "I have here in front of me these
|
|
singular productions, at which one might smile had they not
|
|
proved themselves to be the fore-runners of so terrible a
|
|
tragedy. I am fairly familiar with all forms of secret
|
|
writings, and am myself the author of a trifling monograph upon
|
|
the subject, in which I analyze one hundred and sixty separate
|
|
ciphers; but I confess that this is entirely new to me.
|
|
The object of those who invented the system has apparently been
|
|
to conceal that these characters convey a message, and to give
|
|
the idea that they are the mere random sketches of children.
|
|
|
|
"Having once recognised, however, that the symbols stood for
|
|
letters, and having applied the rules which guide us in all
|
|
forms of secret writings, the solution was easy enough.
|
|
The first message submitted to me was so short that it was
|
|
impossible for me to do more than to say with some confidence
|
|
that the symbol XXX stood for E. As you are aware, E is the
|
|
most common letter in the English alphabet, and it predominates
|
|
to so marked an extent that even in a short sentence one would
|
|
expect to find it most often. Out of fifteen symbols in the
|
|
first message four were the same, so it was reasonable to set
|
|
this down as E. It is true that in some cases the figure was
|
|
bearing a flag and in some cases not, but it was probable from
|
|
the way in which the flags were distributed that they were used
|
|
to break the sentence up into words. I accepted this as a
|
|
hypothesis, and noted that E was represented by XXX.
|
|
|
|
"But now came the real difficulty of the inquiry. The order of
|
|
the English letters after E is by no means well marked, and any
|
|
preponderance which may be shown in an average of a printed
|
|
sheet may be reversed in a single short sentence. Speaking
|
|
roughly, T, A, O, I, N, S, H, R, D, and L are the numerical
|
|
order in which letters occur; but T, A, O, and I are very nearly
|
|
abreast of each other, and it would be an endless task to try
|
|
each combination until a meaning was arrived at. I, therefore,
|
|
waited for fresh material. In my second interview with Mr.
|
|
Hilton Cubitt he was able to give me two other short sentences
|
|
and one message, which appeared -- since there was no flag --
|
|
to be a single word. Here are the symbols. Now, in the single
|
|
word I have already got the two E's coming second and fourth in
|
|
a word of five letters. It might be `sever,' or `lever,' or
|
|
`never.' There can be no question that the latter as a reply
|
|
to an appeal is far the most probable, and the circumstances
|
|
pointed to its being a reply written by the lady. Accepting it
|
|
as correct, we are now able to say that the symbols XXX stand
|
|
respectively for N, V, and R.
|
|
|
|
"Even now I was in considerable difficulty, but a happy thought
|
|
put me in possession of several other letters. It occurred to
|
|
me that if these appeals came, as I expected, from someone who
|
|
had been intimate with the lady in her early life, a combination
|
|
which contained two E's with three letters between might very
|
|
well stand for the name `ELSIE.' On examination I found that
|
|
such a combination formed the termination of the message which
|
|
was three times repeated. It was certainly some appeal to `Elsie.'
|
|
In this way I had got my L, S, and I. But what appeal could it be?
|
|
There were only four letters in the word which preceded `Elsie,'
|
|
and it ended in E. Surely the word must be `COME.' I tried all
|
|
other four letters ending in E, but could find none to fit the case.
|
|
So now I was in possession of C, O, and M, and I was in a position
|
|
to attack the first message once more, dividing it into words
|
|
and putting dots for each symbol which was still unknown.
|
|
So treated it worked out in this fashion:--
|
|
|
|
.M .ERE ..E SL.NE.
|
|
|
|
"Now the first letter CAN only be A, which is a most useful
|
|
discovery, since it occurs no fewer than three times in this
|
|
short sentence, and the H is also apparent in the second word.
|
|
Now it becomes:--
|
|
|
|
AM HERE A.E SLANE.
|
|
|
|
Or, filling in the obvious vacancies in the name:--
|
|
|
|
AM HERE ABE SLANEY.
|
|
|
|
I had so many letters now that I could proceed with considerable
|
|
confidence to the second message, which worked out in this
|
|
fashion:--
|
|
|
|
A. ELRI.ES.
|
|
|
|
Here I could only make sense by putting T and G for the missing
|
|
letters, and supposing that the name was that of some house or
|
|
inn at which the writer was staying."
|
|
|
|
Inspector Martin and I had listened with the utmost interest to
|
|
the full and clear account of how my friend had produced results
|
|
which had led to so complete a command over our difficulties.
|
|
|
|
"What did you do then, sir?" asked the inspector.
|
|
|
|
"I had every reason to suppose that this Abe Slaney was an
|
|
American, since Abe is an American contraction, and since a
|
|
letter from America had been the starting-point of all the
|
|
trouble. I had also every cause to think that there was some
|
|
criminal secret in the matter. The lady's allusions to her past
|
|
and her refusal to take her husband into her confidence both
|
|
pointed in that direction. I therefore cabled to my friend,
|
|
Wilson Hargreave, of the New York Police Bureau, who has more
|
|
than once made use of my knowledge of London crime. I asked him
|
|
whether the name of Abe Slaney was known to him. Here is his
|
|
reply: `The most dangerous crook in Chicago.' On the very
|
|
evening upon which I had his answer Hilton Cubitt sent me the
|
|
last message from Slaney. Working with known letters it took
|
|
this form:--
|
|
|
|
ELSIE .RE.ARE TO MEET THY GO.
|
|
|
|
The addition of a P and a D completed a message which showed me
|
|
that the rascal was proceeding from persuasion to threats, and
|
|
my knowledge of the crooks of Chicago prepared me to find that
|
|
he might very rapidly put his words into action. I at once came
|
|
to Norfolk with my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, but, unhappily,
|
|
only in time to find that the worst had already occurred."
|
|
|
|
"It is a privilege to be associated with you in the handling of
|
|
a case," said the inspector, warmly. "You will excuse me,
|
|
however, if I speak frankly to you. You are only answerable to
|
|
yourself, but I have to answer to my superiors. If this Abe
|
|
Slaney, living at Elrige's, is indeed the murderer, and if he
|
|
has made his escape while I am seated here, I should certainly
|
|
get into serious trouble."
|
|
|
|
"You need not be uneasy. He will not try to escape."
|
|
|
|
"How do you know?"
|
|
|
|
"To fly would be a confession of guilt."
|
|
|
|
"Then let us go to arrest him."
|
|
|
|
"I expect him here every instant."
|
|
|
|
"But why should he come?"
|
|
|
|
"Because I have written and asked him."
|
|
|
|
"But this is incredible, Mr. Holmes! Why should he come because
|
|
you have asked him? Would not such a request rather rouse his
|
|
suspicions and cause him to fly?"
|
|
|
|
"I think I have known how to frame the letter," said Sherlock
|
|
Holmes. "In fact, if I am not very much mistaken, here is the
|
|
gentleman himself coming up the drive."
|
|
|
|
A man was striding up the path which led to the door. He was a
|
|
tall, handsome, swarthy fellow, clad in a suit of grey flannel,
|
|
with a Panama hat, a bristling black beard, and a great,
|
|
aggressive hooked nose, and flourishing a cane as he walked.
|
|
He swaggered up the path as if the place belonged to him,
|
|
and we heard his loud, confident peal at the bell.
|
|
|
|
"I think, gentlemen," said Holmes, quietly, "that we had best
|
|
take up our position behind the door. Every precaution is
|
|
necessary when dealing with such a fellow. You will need your
|
|
handcuffs, inspector. You can leave the talking to me."
|
|
|
|
We waited in silence for a minute -- one of those minutes which
|
|
one can never forget. Then the door opened and the man stepped
|
|
in. In an instant Holmes clapped a pistol to his head and Martin
|
|
slipped the handcuffs over his wrists. It was all done so swiftly
|
|
and deftly that the fellow was helpless before he knew that he was
|
|
attacked. He glared from one to the other of us with a pair of
|
|
blazing black eyes. Then he burst into a bitter laugh.
|
|
|
|
"Well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. I seem to
|
|
have knocked up against something hard. But I came here in
|
|
answer to a letter from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt. Don't tell me that she
|
|
is in this? Don't tell me that she helped to set a trap for me?"
|
|
|
|
"Mrs. Hilton Cubitt was seriously injured and is at death's door."
|
|
|
|
The man gave a hoarse cry of grief which rang through the house.
|
|
|
|
"You're crazy!" he cried, fiercely. "It was he that was hurt,
|
|
not she. Who would have hurt little Elsie? I may have
|
|
threatened her, God forgive me, but I would not have touched
|
|
a hair of her pretty head. Take it back -- you! Say that she
|
|
is not hurt!"
|
|
|
|
"She was found badly wounded by the side of her dead husband."
|
|
|
|
He sank with a deep groan on to the settee and buried his face in
|
|
his manacled hands. For five minutes he was silent. Then he raised
|
|
his face once more, and spoke with the cold composure of despair.
|
|
|
|
"I have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen," said he.
|
|
"If I shot the man he had his shot at me, and there's no murder
|
|
in that. But if you think I could have hurt that woman, then you
|
|
don't know either me or her. I tell you there was never a man
|
|
in this world loved a woman more than I loved her. I had a
|
|
right to her. She was pledged to me years ago. Who was this
|
|
Englishman that he should come between us? I tell you that I
|
|
had the first right to her, and that I was only claiming my own."
|
|
|
|
"She broke away from your influence when she found the man that
|
|
you are," said Holmes, sternly. "She fled from America to avoid
|
|
you, and she married an honourable gentleman in England.
|
|
You dogged her and followed her and made her life a misery to her
|
|
in order to induce her to abandon the husband whom she loved and
|
|
respected in order to fly with you, whom she feared and hated.
|
|
You have ended by bringing about the death of a noble man and
|
|
driving his wife to suicide. That is your record in this
|
|
business, Mr. Abe Slaney, and you will answer for it to the law."
|
|
|
|
"If Elsie dies I care nothing what becomes of me," said the
|
|
American. He opened one of his hands and looked at a note
|
|
crumpled up in his palm. "See here, mister, he cried, with a
|
|
gleam of suspicion in his eyes, "you're not trying to scare me
|
|
over this, are you? If the lady is hurt as bad as you say, who was
|
|
it that wrote this note?" He tossed it forwards on to the table.
|
|
|
|
"I wrote it to bring you here."
|
|
|
|
"You wrote it? There was no one on earth outside the Joint who
|
|
knew the secret of the dancing men. How came you to write it?"
|
|
|
|
"What one man can invent another can discover," said Holmes.
|
|
There is a cab coming to convey you to Norwich, Mr. Slaney.
|
|
But, meanwhile, you have time to make some small reparation for
|
|
the injury you have wrought. Are you aware that Mrs. Hilton
|
|
Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicion of the murder
|
|
of her husband, and that it was only my presence here and the
|
|
knowledge which I happened to possess which has saved her from
|
|
the accusation? The least that you owe her is to make it clear
|
|
to the whole world that she was in no way, directly or
|
|
indirectly, responsible for his tragic end."
|
|
|
|
"I ask nothing better," said the American. "I guess the very
|
|
best case I can make for myself is the absolute naked truth."
|
|
|
|
"It is my duty to warn you that it will be used against you,"
|
|
cried the inspector, with the magnificent fair-play of the
|
|
British criminal law.
|
|
|
|
Slaney shrugged his shoulders.
|
|
|
|
"I'll chance that," said he. "First of all, I want you
|
|
gentlemen to understand that I have known this lady since she
|
|
was a child. There were seven of us in a gang in Chicago, and
|
|
Elsie's father was the boss of the Joint. He was a clever man,
|
|
was old Patrick. It was he who invented that writing, which
|
|
would pass as a child's scrawl unless you just happened to have
|
|
the key to it. Well, Elsie learned some of our ways; but she
|
|
couldn't stand the business, and she had a bit of honest money
|
|
of her own, so she gave us all the slip and got away to London.
|
|
She had been engaged to me, and she would have married me,
|
|
I believe, if I had taken over another profession; but she would
|
|
have nothing to do with anything on the cross. It was only
|
|
after her marriage to this Englishman that I was able to find
|
|
out where she was. I wrote to her, but got no answer. After
|
|
that I came over, and, as letters were no use, I put my messages
|
|
where she could read them.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I have been here a month now. I lived in that farm,
|
|
where I had a room down below, and could get in and out every
|
|
night, and no one the wiser. I tried all I could to coax Elsie
|
|
away. I knew that she read the messages, for once she wrote an
|
|
answer under one of them. Then my temper got the better of me,
|
|
and I began to threaten her. She sent me a letter then,
|
|
imploring me to go away and saying that it would break her heart
|
|
if any scandal should come upon her husband. She said that she
|
|
would come down when her husband was asleep at three in the
|
|
morning, and speak with me through the end window, if I would
|
|
go away afterwards and leave her in peace. She came down and
|
|
brought money with her, trying to bribe me to go. This made
|
|
me mad, and I caught her arm and tried to pull her through the
|
|
window. At that moment in rushed the husband with his revolver
|
|
in his hand. Elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and we were
|
|
face to face. I was heeled also, and I held up my gun to scare
|
|
him off and let me get away. He fired and missed me. I pulled
|
|
off almost at the same instant, and down he dropped. I made
|
|
away across the garden, and as I went I heard the window shut
|
|
behind me. That's God's truth, gentlemen, every word of it,
|
|
and I heard no more about it until that lad came riding up with
|
|
a note which made me walk in here, like a jay, and give myself
|
|
into your hands."
|
|
|
|
A cab had driven up whilst the American had been talking.
|
|
Two uniformed policemen sat inside. Inspector Martin rose
|
|
and touched his prisoner on the shoulder.
|
|
|
|
"It is time for us to go."
|
|
|
|
"Can I see her first?"
|
|
|
|
"No, she is not conscious. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I only hope
|
|
that if ever again I have an important case I shall have the
|
|
good fortune to have you by my side."
|
|
|
|
We stood at the window and watched the cab drive away. As I
|
|
turned back my eye caught the pellet of paper which the prisoner
|
|
had tossed upon the table. It was the note with which Holmes
|
|
had decoyed him.
|
|
|
|
"See if you can read it, Watson," said he, with a smile.
|
|
|
|
It contained no word, but this little line of dancing men:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
"If you use the code which I have explained," said Holmes,
|
|
"you will find that it simply means `Come here at once.' I was
|
|
convinced that it was an invitation which he would not refuse,
|
|
since he could never imagine that it could come from anyone but
|
|
the lady. And so, my dear Watson, we have ended by turning the
|
|
dancing men to good when they have so often been the agents of
|
|
evil, and I think that I have fulfilled my promise of giving you
|
|
something unusual for your note-book. Three-forty is our train,
|
|
and I fancy we should be back in Baker Street for dinner.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Only one word of epilogue. The American, Abe Slaney, was
|
|
condemned to death at the winter assizes at Norwich; but his
|
|
penalty was changed to penal servitude in consideration of
|
|
mitigating circumstances, and the certainty that Hilton Cubitt
|
|
had fired the first shot. Of Mrs. Hilton Cubitt I only know
|
|
that I have heard she recovered entirely, and that she still
|
|
remains a widow, devoting her whole life to the care of the
|
|
poor and to the administration of her husband's estate.
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 27 JANUARY, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
IV. --- The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist.
|
|
|
|
|
|
FROM the years 1894 to 1901 inclusive Mr. Sherlock Holmes was a
|
|
very busy man. It is safe to say that there was no public case
|
|
of any difficulty in which he was not consulted during those
|
|
eight years, and there were hundreds of private cases, some of
|
|
them of the most intricate and extraordinary character, in which
|
|
he played a prominent part. Many startling successes and a few
|
|
unavoidable failures were the outcome of this long period of
|
|
continuous work. As I have preserved very full notes of all
|
|
these cases, and was myself personally engaged in many of them,
|
|
it may be imagined that it is no easy task to know which I
|
|
should select to lay before the public. I shall, however,
|
|
preserve my former rule, and give the preference to those cases
|
|
which derive their interest not so much from the brutality of
|
|
the crime as from the ingenuity and dramatic quality of the
|
|
solution. For this reason I will now lay before the reader the
|
|
facts connected with Miss Violet Smith, the solitary cyclist of
|
|
Charlington, and the curious sequel of our investigation, which
|
|
culminated in unexpected tragedy. It is true that the
|
|
circumstances did not admit of any striking illustration of those
|
|
powers for which my friend was famous, but there were some
|
|
points about the case which made it stand out in those long
|
|
records of crime from which I gather the material for these
|
|
little narratives.
|
|
|
|
On referring to my note-book for the year 1895 I find that it
|
|
was upon Saturday, the 23rd of April, that we first heard of
|
|
Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was, I remember, extremely
|
|
unwelcome to Holmes, for he was immersed at the moment in a very
|
|
abstruse and complicated problem concerning the peculiar
|
|
persecution to which John Vincent Harden, the well-known tobacco
|
|
millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, who loved above all
|
|
things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything
|
|
which distracted his attention from the matter in hand. And yet
|
|
without a harshness which was foreign to his nature it was
|
|
impossible to refuse to listen to the story of the young and
|
|
beautiful woman, tall, graceful, and queenly, who presented
|
|
herself at Baker Street late in the evening and implored his
|
|
assistance and advice. It was vain to urge that his time was
|
|
already fully occupied, for the young lady had come with the
|
|
determination to tell her story, and it was evident that nothing
|
|
short of force could get her out of the room until she had done
|
|
so. With a resigned air and a somewhat weary smile, Holmes
|
|
begged the beautiful intruder to take a seat and to inform us
|
|
what it was that was troubling her.
|
|
|
|
"At least it cannot be your health," said he, as his keen eyes
|
|
darted over her; "so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy."
|
|
|
|
She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the
|
|
slight roughening of the side of the sole caused by the friction
|
|
of the edge of the pedal.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something
|
|
to do with my visit to you to-day."
|
|
|
|
My friend took the lady's ungloved hand and examined it with as
|
|
close an attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would
|
|
show to a specimen.
|
|
|
|
"You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business," said he,
|
|
as he dropped it. "I nearly fell into the error of supposing
|
|
that you were typewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is
|
|
music. You observe the spatulate finger-end, Watson, which is
|
|
common to both professions? There is a spirituality about the
|
|
face, however" -- he gently turned it towards the light -- "which
|
|
the typewriter does not generate. This lady is a musician."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music."
|
|
|
|
"In the country, I presume, from your complexion."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey."
|
|
|
|
"A beautiful neighbourhood and full of the most interesting
|
|
associations. You remember, Watson, that it was near there that
|
|
we took Archie Stamford, the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has
|
|
happened to you near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey?"
|
|
|
|
The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the
|
|
following curious statement:--
|
|
|
|
"My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who
|
|
conducted the orchestra at the old Imperial Theatre. My mother
|
|
and I were left without a relation in the world except one
|
|
uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to Africa twenty-five years ago,
|
|
and we have never had a word from him since. When father died
|
|
we were left very poor, but one day we were told that there was
|
|
an advertisement in the TIMES inquiring for our whereabouts. You
|
|
can imagine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had
|
|
left us a fortune. We went at once to the lawyer whose name was
|
|
given in the paper. There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers
|
|
and Mr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Africa.
|
|
They said that my uncle was a friend of theirs, that he died
|
|
some months before in great poverty in Johannesburg, and that he
|
|
had asked them with his last breath to hunt up his relations and
|
|
see that they were in no want. It seemed strange to us that
|
|
Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when he was alive, should
|
|
be so careful to look after us when he was dead; but Mr. Carruthers
|
|
explained that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the
|
|
death of his brother, and so felt responsible for our fate."
|
|
|
|
"Excuse me," said Holmes; "when was this interview?"
|
|
|
|
"Last December -- four months ago."
|
|
|
|
"Pray proceed."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person.
|
|
He was for ever making eyes at me -- a coarse, puffy-faced,
|
|
red-moustached young man, with his hair plastered down on each
|
|
side of his forehead. I thought that he was perfectly hateful --
|
|
and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to know such a person."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, Cyril is his name!" said Holmes, smiling.
|
|
|
|
The young lady blushed and laughed.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Holmes; Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer,
|
|
and we hope to be married at the end of the summer. Dear me,
|
|
how DID I get talking about him? What I wished to say was that
|
|
Mr. Woodley was perfectly odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who
|
|
was a much older man, was more agreeable. He was a dark, sallow,
|
|
clean-shaven, silent person; but he had polite manners and a
|
|
pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding
|
|
that we were very poor he suggested that I should come and teach
|
|
music to his only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did not
|
|
like to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go
|
|
home to her every week-end, and he offered me a hundred a year,
|
|
which was certainly splendid pay. So it ended by my accepting,
|
|
and I went down to Chiltern Grange, about six miles from
|
|
Farnham. Mr. Carruthers was a widower, but he had engaged
|
|
a lady-housekeeper, a very respectable, elderly person, called
|
|
Mrs. Dixon, to look after his establishment. The child was
|
|
a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very
|
|
kind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings
|
|
together. Every week-end I went home to my mother in town.
|
|
|
|
"The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the
|
|
red-moustached Mr. Woodley. He came for a visit of a week,
|
|
and oh, it seemed three months to me! He was a dreadful person,
|
|
a bully to everyone else, but to me something infinitely worse.
|
|
He made odious love to me, boasted of his wealth, said that if
|
|
I married him I would have the finest diamonds in London, and
|
|
finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seized me
|
|
in his arms one day after dinner -- he was hideously strong --
|
|
and he swore that he would not let me go until I had kissed him.
|
|
Mr. Carruthers came in and tore him off from me, on which he
|
|
turned upon his own host, knocking him down and cutting his face
|
|
open. That was the end of his visit, as you can imagine.
|
|
Mr. Carruthers apologized to me next day, and assured me that
|
|
I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I have not
|
|
seen Mr. Woodley since.
|
|
|
|
"And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which
|
|
has caused me to ask your advice to-day. You must know that
|
|
every Saturday forenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station
|
|
in order to get the 12.22 to town. The road from Chiltern
|
|
Grange is a lonely one, and at one spot it is particularly so,
|
|
for it lies for over a mile between Charlington Heath upon one
|
|
side and the woods which lie round Charlington Hall upon the
|
|
other. You could not find a more lonely tract of road anywhere,
|
|
and it is quite rare to meet so much as a cart, or a peasant,
|
|
until you reach the high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeks
|
|
ago I was passing this place when I chanced to look back over
|
|
my shoulder, and about two hundred yards behind me I saw a man,
|
|
also on a bicycle. He seemed to be a middle-aged man, with
|
|
a short, dark beard. I looked back before I reached Farnham,
|
|
but the man was gone, so I thought no more about it. But you
|
|
can imagine how surprised I was, Mr. Holmes, when on my return
|
|
on the Monday I saw the same man on the same stretch of road.
|
|
My astonishment was increased when the incident occurred again,
|
|
exactly as before, on the following Saturday and Monday.
|
|
He always kept his distance and did not molest me in any way,
|
|
but still it certainly was very odd. I mentioned it to Mr.
|
|
Carruthers, who seemed interested in what I said, and told me
|
|
that he had ordered a horse and trap, so that in future I should
|
|
not pass over these lonely roads without some companion.
|
|
|
|
"The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some
|
|
reason they were not delivered, and again I had to cycle to the
|
|
station. That was this morning. You can think that I looked
|
|
out when I came to Charlington Heath, and there, sure enough,
|
|
was the man, exactly as he had been the two weeks before.
|
|
He always kept so far from me that I could not clearly see
|
|
his face, but it was certainly someone whom I did not know.
|
|
He was dressed in a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thing
|
|
about his face that I could clearly see was his dark beard.
|
|
To-day I was not alarmed, but I was filled with curiosity,
|
|
and I determined to find out who he was and what he wanted.
|
|
I slowed down my machine, but he slowed down his. Then I stopped
|
|
altogether, but he stopped also. Then I laid a trap for him.
|
|
There is a sharp turning of the road, and I pedalled very
|
|
quickly round this, and then I stopped and waited. I expected
|
|
him to shoot round and pass me before he could stop. But he
|
|
never appeared. Then I went back and looked round the corner.
|
|
I could see a mile of road, but he was not on it. To make it
|
|
the more extraordinary, there was no side road at this point
|
|
down which he could have gone."
|
|
|
|
Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "This case certainly
|
|
presents some features of its own," said he. "How much time
|
|
elapsed between your turning the corner and your discovery
|
|
that the road was clear?"
|
|
|
|
"Two or three minutes."
|
|
|
|
"Then he could not have retreated down the road, and you say
|
|
that there are no side roads?"
|
|
|
|
"None."
|
|
|
|
"Then he certainly took a footpath on one side or the other."
|
|
|
|
"It could not have been on the side of the heath or I should
|
|
have seen him."
|
|
|
|
"So by the process of exclusion we arrive at the fact that he
|
|
made his way towards Charlington Hall, which, as I understand,
|
|
is situated in its own grounds on one side of the road.
|
|
Anything else?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt
|
|
I should not be happy until I had seen you and had your advice."
|
|
|
|
Holmes sat in silence for some little time.
|
|
|
|
"Where is the gentleman to whom you are engaged?" he asked,
|
|
at last.
|
|
|
|
"He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry."
|
|
|
|
"He would not pay you a surprise visit?"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, Mr. Holmes! As if I should not know him!"
|
|
|
|
"Have you had any other admirers?"
|
|
|
|
"Several before I knew Cyril."
|
|
|
|
"And since?"
|
|
|
|
"There was this dreadful man, Woodley, if you can call him
|
|
an admirer."
|
|
|
|
"No one else?"
|
|
|
|
Our fair client seemed a little confused.
|
|
|
|
"Who was he?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it has seemed to me
|
|
sometimes that my employer, Mr. Carruthers, takes a great deal
|
|
of interest in me. We are thrown rather together. I play his
|
|
accompaniments in the evening. He has never said anything.
|
|
He is a perfect gentleman. But a girl always knows."
|
|
|
|
"Ha!" Holmes looked grave. "What does he do for a living?"
|
|
|
|
"He is a rich man."
|
|
|
|
"No carriages or horses?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, at least he is fairly well-to-do. But he goes into the
|
|
City two or three times a week. He is deeply interested in
|
|
South African gold shares."
|
|
|
|
"You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am
|
|
very busy just now, but I will find time to make some inquiries
|
|
into your case. In the meantime take no step without letting me
|
|
know. Good-bye, and I trust that we shall have nothing but good
|
|
news from you."
|
|
|
|
"It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl
|
|
should have followers," said Holmes, as he pulled at his meditative
|
|
pipe, "but for choice not on bicycles in lonely country roads.
|
|
Some secretive lover, beyond all doubt. But there are curious
|
|
and suggestive details about the case, Watson."
|
|
|
|
"That he should appear only at that point?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants
|
|
of Charlington Hall. Then, again, how about the connection
|
|
between Carruthers and Woodley, since they appear to be men of
|
|
such a different type? How came they BOTH to be so keen upon
|
|
looking up Ralph Smith's relations? One more point. What sort
|
|
of a MENAGE is it which pays double the market price for a
|
|
governess, but does not keep a horse although six miles from the
|
|
station? Odd, Watson -- very odd!"
|
|
|
|
"You will go down?"
|
|
|
|
"No, my dear fellow, YOU will go down. This may be some
|
|
trifling intrigue, and I cannot break my other important
|
|
research for the sake of it. On Monday you will arrive early
|
|
at Farnham; you will conceal yourself near Charlington Heath;
|
|
you will observe these facts for yourself, and act as your
|
|
own judgment advises. Then, having inquired as to the occupants
|
|
of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And now,
|
|
Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solid
|
|
stepping-stones on which we may hope to get across to our solution."
|
|
|
|
We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the
|
|
Monday by the train which leaves Waterloo at 9.50, so I started
|
|
early and caught the 9.13. At Farnham Station I had no
|
|
difficulty in being directed to Charlington Heath. It was
|
|
impossible to mistake the scene of the young lady's adventure,
|
|
for the road runs between the open heath on one side and an old
|
|
yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studded
|
|
with magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of
|
|
lichen-studded stone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering
|
|
heraldic emblems; but besides this central carriage drive
|
|
I observed several points where there were gaps in the hedge
|
|
and paths leading through them. The house was invisible from
|
|
the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and decay.
|
|
|
|
The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse,
|
|
gleaming magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine.
|
|
Behind one of these clumps I took up my position, so as to command
|
|
both the gateway of the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon
|
|
either side. It had been deserted when I left it,
|
|
but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the opposite
|
|
direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark
|
|
suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end
|
|
of the Charlington grounds he sprang from his machine and led it
|
|
through a gap in the hedge, disappearing from my view.
|
|
|
|
A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared.
|
|
This time it was the young lady coming from the station.
|
|
I saw her look about her as she came to the Charlington hedge.
|
|
An instant later the man emerged from his hiding-place, sprang upon
|
|
his cycle, and followed her. In all the broad landscape those
|
|
were the only moving figures, the graceful girl sitting very
|
|
straight upon her machine, and the man behind her bending low
|
|
over his handle-bar, with a curiously furtive suggestion in
|
|
every movement. She looked back at him and slowed her pace.
|
|
He slowed also. She stopped. He at once stopped too, keeping two
|
|
hundred yards behind her. Her next movement was as unexpected
|
|
as it was spirited. She suddenly whisked her wheels round and
|
|
dashed straight at him! He was as quick as she, however, and
|
|
darted off in desperate flight. Presently she came back up the
|
|
road again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigning to take
|
|
any further notice of her silent attendant. He had turned also,
|
|
and still kept his distance until the curve of the road hid them
|
|
from my sight.
|
|
|
|
I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so,
|
|
for presently the man reappeared cycling slowly back.
|
|
He turned in at the Hall gates and dismounted from his machine.
|
|
For some few minutes I could see him standing among the trees.
|
|
His hands were raised and he seemed to be settling his necktie.
|
|
Then he mounted his cycle and rode away from me down the drive
|
|
towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered through the
|
|
trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the old grey building
|
|
with its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the drive ran through a
|
|
dense shrubbery, and I saw no more of my man.
|
|
|
|
However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning's
|
|
work, and I walked back in high spirits to Farnham. The local
|
|
house-agent could tell me nothing about Charlington Hall, and
|
|
referred me to a well-known firm in Pall Mall. There I halted
|
|
on my way home, and met with courtesy from the representative.
|
|
No, I could not have Charlington Hall for the summer.
|
|
I was just too late. It had been let about a month ago.
|
|
Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. He was a respectable
|
|
elderly gentleman. The polite agent was afraid he could say no
|
|
more, as the affairs of his clients were not matters which he
|
|
could discuss.
|
|
|
|
Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report
|
|
which I was able to present to him that evening, but it did not
|
|
elicit that word of curt praise which I had hoped for and should
|
|
have valued. On the contrary, his austere face was even more
|
|
severe than usual as he commented upon the things that I had
|
|
done and the things that I had not.
|
|
|
|
"Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should
|
|
have been behind the hedge; then you would have had a close view
|
|
of this interesting person. As it is you were some hundreds
|
|
of yards away, and can tell me even less than Miss Smith.
|
|
She thinks she does not know the man; I am convinced she does.
|
|
Why, otherwise, should he be so desperately anxious that she
|
|
should not get so near him as to see his features? You describe
|
|
him as bending over the handle-bar. Concealment again, you see.
|
|
You really have done remarkably badly. He returns to the house and
|
|
you want to find out who he is. You come to a London house-agent!"
|
|
|
|
"What should I have done?" I cried, with some heat.
|
|
|
|
"Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of
|
|
country gossip. They would have told you every name, from the
|
|
master to the scullery-maid. Williamson! It conveys nothing to
|
|
my mind. If he is an elderly man he is not this active cyclist
|
|
who sprints away from that athletic young lady's pursuit. What
|
|
have we gained by your expedition? The knowledge that the
|
|
girl's story is true. I never doubted it. That there is a
|
|
connection between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubted
|
|
that either. That the Hall is tenanted by Williamson.
|
|
Who's the better for that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't
|
|
look so depressed. We can do little more until next Saturday,
|
|
and in the meantime I may make one or two inquiries myself."
|
|
|
|
Next morning we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly
|
|
and accurately the very incidents which I had seen, but the pith
|
|
of the letter lay in the postscript:--
|
|
|
|
"I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes,
|
|
when I tell you that my place here has become difficult owing
|
|
to the fact that my employer has proposed marriage to me. I am
|
|
convinced that his feelings are most deep and most honourable.
|
|
At the same time my promise is, of course, given. He took my
|
|
refusal very seriously, but also very gently. You can
|
|
understand, however, that the situation is a little strained."
|
|
|
|
"Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters,"
|
|
said Holmes, thoughtfully, as he finished the letter.
|
|
"The case certainly presents more features of interest and
|
|
more possibility of development than I had originally thought.
|
|
I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful day in the
|
|
country, and I am inclined to run down this afternoon and test
|
|
one or two theories which I have formed."
|
|
|
|
Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination,
|
|
for he arrived at Baker Street late in the evening with a cut
|
|
lip and a discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general
|
|
air of dissipation which would have made his own person the
|
|
fitting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was
|
|
immensely tickled by his own adventures, and laughed heartily
|
|
as he recounted them.
|
|
|
|
"I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat,"
|
|
said he. "You are aware that I have some proficiency in the
|
|
good old British sport of boxing. Occasionally it is of
|
|
service. To-day, for example, I should have come to very
|
|
ignominious grief without it."
|
|
|
|
I begged him to tell me what had occurred.
|
|
|
|
"I found that country pub which I had already recommended to
|
|
your notice, and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in
|
|
the bar, and a garrulous landlord was giving me all that I
|
|
wanted. Williamson is a white-bearded man, and he lives alone
|
|
with a small staff of servants at the Hall. There is some rumour
|
|
that he is or has been a clergyman; but one or two incidents of
|
|
his short residence at the Hall struck me as peculiarly
|
|
unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at a
|
|
clerical agency, and they tell me that there WAS a man of that
|
|
name in orders whose career has been a singularly dark one.
|
|
The landlord further informed me that there are usually week-end
|
|
visitors -- `a warm lot, sir' -- at the Hall, and especially one
|
|
gentleman with a red moustache, Mr. Woodley by name, who was
|
|
always there. We had got as far as this when who should walk in
|
|
but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the
|
|
tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was I?
|
|
What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had
|
|
a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous.
|
|
He ended a string of abuse by a vicious back-hander which I failed
|
|
to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was
|
|
a straight left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you
|
|
see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart. So ended my country trip,
|
|
and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the
|
|
Surrey border has not been much more profitable than your own."
|
|
|
|
The Thursday brought us another letter from our client.
|
|
|
|
"You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes," said she, "to hear
|
|
that I am leaving Mr. Carruthers's employment. Even the high
|
|
pay cannot reconcile me to the discomforts of my situation.
|
|
On Saturday I come up to town and I do not intend to return.
|
|
Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so the dangers of the lonely
|
|
road, if there ever were any dangers, are now over.
|
|
|
|
"As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the
|
|
strained situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the
|
|
reappearance of that odious man, Mr. Woodley. He was always
|
|
hideous, but he looks more awful than ever now, for he appears
|
|
to have had an accident and he is much disfigured. I saw him
|
|
out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not meet him.
|
|
He had a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed much excited
|
|
afterwards. Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, for
|
|
he did not sleep here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him again
|
|
this morning slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner
|
|
have a savage wild animal loose about the place. I loathe and
|
|
fear him more than I can say. How CAN Mr. Carruthers endure
|
|
such a creature for a moment? However, all my troubles will be
|
|
over on Saturday."
|
|
|
|
"So I trust, Watson; so I trust," said Holmes, gravely.
|
|
"There is some deep intrigue going on round that little woman,
|
|
and it is our duty to see that no one molests her upon that last
|
|
journey. I think, Watson, that we must spare time to run down
|
|
together on Saturday morning, and make sure that this curious
|
|
and inconclusive investigation has no untoward ending."
|
|
|
|
I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view
|
|
of the case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre
|
|
than dangerous. That a man should lie in wait for and follow
|
|
a very handsome woman is no unheard-of thing, and if he had so
|
|
little audacity that he not only dared not address her, but even
|
|
fled from her approach, he was not a very formidable assailant.
|
|
The ruffian Woodley was a very different person, but, except on
|
|
one occasion, he had not molested our client, and now he visited
|
|
the house of Carruthers without intruding upon her presence.
|
|
The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of those week-end
|
|
parties at the Hall of which the publican had spoken; but who
|
|
he was or what he wanted was as obscure as ever. It was the
|
|
severity of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a
|
|
revolver into his pocket before leaving our rooms which
|
|
impressed me with the feeling that tragedy might prove to
|
|
lurk behind this curious train of events.
|
|
|
|
A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the
|
|
heath-covered country-side with the glowing clumps of flowering
|
|
gorse seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of
|
|
the duns and drabs and slate-greys of London. Holmes and I
|
|
walked along the broad, sandy road inhaling the fresh morning
|
|
air, and rejoicing in the music of the birds and the fresh
|
|
breath of the spring. From a rise of the road on the shoulder
|
|
of Crooksbury Hill we could see the grim Hall bristling out from
|
|
amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were still
|
|
younger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed
|
|
down the long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band,
|
|
between the brown of the heath and the budding green of the
|
|
woods. Far away, a black dot, we could see a vehicle moving
|
|
in our direction. Holmes gave an exclamation of impatience.
|
|
|
|
"I had given a margin of half an hour," said he. "If that is
|
|
her trap she must be making for the earlier train. I fear,
|
|
Watson, that she will be past Charlington before we can possibly
|
|
meet her."
|
|
|
|
From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer see
|
|
the vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such a pace that my
|
|
sedentary life began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to
|
|
fall behind. Holmes, however, was always in training, for he
|
|
had inexhaustible stores of nervous energy upon which to draw.
|
|
His springy step never slowed until suddenly, when he was a
|
|
hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I saw him throw
|
|
up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the same
|
|
instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins
|
|
trailing, appeared round the curve of the road and rattled
|
|
swiftly towards us.
|
|
|
|
"Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to
|
|
his side. "Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train!
|
|
It's abduction, Watson -- abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what!
|
|
Block the road! Stop the horse! That's right. Now, jump in,
|
|
and let us see if I can repair the consequences of my own blunder."
|
|
|
|
We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the
|
|
horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along
|
|
the road. As we turned the curve the whole stretch of road
|
|
between the Hall and the heath was opened up. I grasped
|
|
Holmes's arm.
|
|
|
|
"That's the man!" I gasped.
|
|
|
|
A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down
|
|
and his shoulders rounded as he put every ounce of energy that
|
|
he possessed on to the pedals. He was flying like a racer.
|
|
Suddenly he raised his bearded face, saw us close to him, and
|
|
pulled up, springing from his machine. That coal-black beard
|
|
was in singular contrast to the pallor of his face, and his eyes
|
|
were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at us and at the
|
|
dog-cart. Then a look of amazement came over his face.
|
|
|
|
"Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to block
|
|
our road. "Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull up, man!"
|
|
he yelled, drawing a pistol from his side pocket. "Pull up,
|
|
I say, or, by George, I'll put a bullet into your horse."
|
|
|
|
Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the cart.
|
|
|
|
"You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?"
|
|
he said, in his quick, clear way.
|
|
|
|
"That's what I am asking you. You're in her dog-cart.
|
|
You ought to know where she is."
|
|
|
|
"We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it.
|
|
We drove back to help the young lady."
|
|
|
|
"Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?" cried the stranger,
|
|
in an ecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that hellhound Woodley
|
|
and the blackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are
|
|
her friend. Stand by me and we'll save her, if I have to leave
|
|
my carcass in Charlington Wood."
|
|
|
|
He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap
|
|
in the hedge. Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse
|
|
grazing beside the road, followed Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"This is where they came through," said he, pointing to the marks
|
|
of several feet upon the muddy path. "Halloa! Stop a minute!
|
|
Who's this in the bush?"
|
|
|
|
It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler,
|
|
with leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees
|
|
drawn up, a terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but
|
|
alive. A glance at his wound told me that it had not penetrated
|
|
the bone.
|
|
|
|
"That's Peter, the groom," cried the stranger. "He drove her.
|
|
The beasts have pulled him off and clubbed him. Let him lie;
|
|
we can't do him any good, but we may save her from the worst
|
|
fate that can befall a woman."
|
|
|
|
We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees.
|
|
We had reached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when
|
|
Holmes pulled up.
|
|
|
|
"They didn't go to the house. Here are their marks on the left
|
|
-- here, beside the laurel bushes! Ah, I said so!"
|
|
|
|
As he spoke a woman's shrill scream -- a scream which vibrated
|
|
with a frenzy of horror -- burst from the thick green clump of
|
|
bushes in front of us. It ended suddenly on its highest note
|
|
with a choke and a gurgle.
|
|
|
|
"This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley," cried the
|
|
stranger, darting through the bushes. "Ah, the cowardly dogs!
|
|
Follow me, gentlemen! Too late! too late! by the living Jingo!"
|
|
|
|
We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward
|
|
surrounded by ancient trees. On the farther side of it, under
|
|
the shadow of a mighty oak, there stood a singular group of
|
|
three people. One was a woman, our client, drooping and faint,
|
|
a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her stood a brutal,
|
|
heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legs parted
|
|
wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding-crop, his whole
|
|
attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an
|
|
elderly, grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light
|
|
tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding service,
|
|
for he pocketed his prayer-book as we appeared and slapped the
|
|
sinister bridegroom upon the back in jovial congratulation.
|
|
|
|
"They're married!" I gasped.
|
|
|
|
"Come on!" cried our guide; "come on!" He rushed across the
|
|
glade, Holmes and I at his heels. As we approached, the lady
|
|
staggered against the trunk of the tree for support.
|
|
Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed to us with mock politeness,
|
|
and the bully Woodley advanced with a shout of brutal and
|
|
exultant laughter.
|
|
|
|
"You can take your beard off, Bob," said he. "I know you right
|
|
enough. Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me
|
|
to be able to introduce you to Mrs. Woodley."
|
|
|
|
Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the
|
|
dark beard which had disguised him and threw it on the ground,
|
|
disclosing a long, sallow, clean-shaven face below it.
|
|
Then he raised his revolver and covered the young ruffian,
|
|
who was advancing upon him with his dangerous riding-crop
|
|
swinging in his hand.
|
|
|
|
"Yes," said our ally, "I AM Bob Carruthers, and I'll see this
|
|
woman righted if I have to swing for it. I told you what I'd do
|
|
if you molested her, and, by the Lord, I'll be as good as my word!"
|
|
|
|
"You're too late. She's my wife!"
|
|
|
|
"No, she's your widow."
|
|
|
|
His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front
|
|
of Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell
|
|
upon his back, his hideous red face turning suddenly to a
|
|
dreadful mottled pallor. The old man, still clad in his
|
|
surplice, burst into such a string of foul oaths as I have never
|
|
heard, and pulled out a revolver of his own, but before he could
|
|
raise it he was looking down the barrel of Holmes's weapon.
|
|
|
|
"Enough of this," said my friend, coldly. "Drop that pistol!
|
|
Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank you. You,
|
|
Carruthers, give me that revolver. We'll have no more violence.
|
|
Come, hand it over!"
|
|
|
|
"Who are you, then?"
|
|
|
|
"My name is Sherlock Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"Good Lord!"
|
|
|
|
"You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official
|
|
police until their arrival. Here, you!" he shouted to a
|
|
frightened groom who had appeared at the edge of the glade.
|
|
"Come here. Take this note as hard as you can ride to Farnham."
|
|
He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from his note-book. "Give
|
|
it to the superintendent at the police-station. Until he comes
|
|
I must detain you all under my personal custody."
|
|
|
|
The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic
|
|
scene, and all were equally puppets in his hands. Williamson
|
|
and Carruthers found themselves carrying the wounded Woodley
|
|
into the house, and I gave my arm to the frightened girl.
|
|
The injured man was laid on his bed, and at Holmes's request I
|
|
examined him. I carried my report to where he sat in the old
|
|
tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him.
|
|
|
|
"He will live," said I.
|
|
|
|
"What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. "I'll go
|
|
upstairs and finish him first. Do you tell me that that girl,
|
|
that angel, is to be tied to Roaring Jack Woodley for life?"
|
|
|
|
"You need not concern yourself about that," said Holmes.
|
|
"There are two very good reasons why she should under no
|
|
circumstances be his wife. In the first place, we are very safe
|
|
in questioning Mr. Williamson's right to solemnize a marriage."
|
|
|
|
"I have been ordained," cried the old rascal.
|
|
|
|
"And also unfrocked."
|
|
|
|
"Once a clergyman, always a clergyman."
|
|
|
|
"I think not. How about the license?"
|
|
|
|
"We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket."
|
|
|
|
"Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a forced marriage
|
|
is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will
|
|
discover before you have finished. You'll have time to think
|
|
the point out during the next ten years or so, unless I am
|
|
mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would have done better
|
|
to keep your pistol in your pocket."
|
|
|
|
"I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the
|
|
precaution I had taken to shield this girl -- for I loved her,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I knew what love
|
|
was -- it fairly drove me mad to think that she was in the power
|
|
of the greatest brute and bully in South Africa, a man whose
|
|
name is a holy terror from Kimberley to Johannesburg. Why, Mr.
|
|
Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but ever since that girl has
|
|
been in my employment I never once let her go past this house,
|
|
where I knew these rascals were lurking, without following her
|
|
on my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my
|
|
distance from her, and I wore a beard so that she should not
|
|
recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she
|
|
wouldn't have stayed in my employment long if she had thought
|
|
that I was following her about the country roads."
|
|
|
|
"Why didn't you tell her of her danger?"
|
|
|
|
"Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't
|
|
bear to face that. Even if she couldn't love me it was a great
|
|
deal to me just to see her dainty form about the house, and to
|
|
hear the sound of her voice."
|
|
|
|
"Well," said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers,
|
|
but I should call it selfishness."
|
|
|
|
"Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her
|
|
go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that she should
|
|
have someone near to look after her. Then when the cable came
|
|
I knew they were bound to make a move."
|
|
|
|
"What cable?"
|
|
|
|
Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket.
|
|
|
|
"That's it," said he.
|
|
|
|
It was short and concise:--
|
|
|
|
"The old man is dead."
|
|
|
|
"Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and I can
|
|
understand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a
|
|
head. But while we wait you might tell me what you can."
|
|
|
|
The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad
|
|
language.
|
|
|
|
"By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers,
|
|
I'll serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about
|
|
the girl to your heart's content, for that's your own affair,
|
|
but if you round on your pals to this plain-clothes copper
|
|
it will be the worst day's work that ever you did."
|
|
|
|
"Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a
|
|
cigarette. "The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask
|
|
is a few details for my private curiosity. However, if there's
|
|
any difficulty in your telling me I'll do the talking, and then
|
|
you will see how far you have a chance of holding back your secrets.
|
|
In the first place, three of you came from South Africa on this
|
|
game -- you Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley."
|
|
|
|
"Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of
|
|
them until two months ago, and I have never been in Africa
|
|
in my life, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it,
|
|
Mr. Busybody Holmes!"
|
|
|
|
"What he says is true," said Carruthers.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own
|
|
home-made article. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa.
|
|
You had reason to believe he would not live long. You found out
|
|
that his niece would inherit his fortune. How's that -- eh?"
|
|
|
|
Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore.
|
|
|
|
"She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old
|
|
fellow would make no will."
|
|
|
|
"Couldn't read or write," said Carruthers.
|
|
|
|
"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl.
|
|
The idea was that one of you was to marry her and the other have
|
|
a share of the plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as
|
|
the husband. Why was that?"
|
|
|
|
"We played cards for her on the voyage. He won."
|
|
|
|
"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there
|
|
Woodley was to do the courting. She recognised the drunken
|
|
brute that he was, and would have nothing to do with him.
|
|
Meanwhile, your arrangement was rather upset by the fact that
|
|
you had yourself fallen in love with the lady. You could no
|
|
longer bear the idea of this ruffian owning her."
|
|
|
|
"No, by George, I couldn't!"
|
|
|
|
"There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage,
|
|
and began to make his own plans independently of you."
|
|
|
|
"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can
|
|
tell this gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh.
|
|
"Yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am level with him
|
|
on that, anyhow. Then I lost sight of him. That was when he
|
|
picked up with this cast padre here. I found that they had set
|
|
up house-keeping together at this place on the line that she
|
|
had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her after that,
|
|
for I knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them from
|
|
time to time, for I was anxious to know what they were after.
|
|
Two days ago Woodley came up to my house with this cable, which
|
|
showed that Ralph Smith was dead. He asked me if I would stand
|
|
by the bargain. I said I would not. He asked me if I would
|
|
marry the girl myself and give him a share. I said I would
|
|
willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He said,
|
|
`Let us get her married first, and after a week or two she may
|
|
see things a bit different.' I said I would have nothing to do
|
|
with violence. So he went off cursing, like the foul-mouthed
|
|
blackguard that he was, and swearing that he would have her yet.
|
|
She was leaving me this week-end, and I had got a trap to take
|
|
her to the station, but I was so uneasy in my mind that I
|
|
followed her on my bicycle. She had got a start, however,
|
|
and before I could catch her the mischief was done. The first
|
|
thing I knew about it was when I saw you two gentlemen driving
|
|
back in her dog-cart."
|
|
|
|
Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate.
|
|
"I have been very obtuse, Watson," said he. "When in your
|
|
report you said that you had seen the cyclist as you thought
|
|
arrange his necktie in the shrubbery, that alone should have
|
|
told me all. However, we may congratulate ourselves upon a
|
|
curious and in some respects a unique case. I perceive three
|
|
of the county constabulary in the drive, and I am glad to see
|
|
that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them; so it is
|
|
likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom will be
|
|
permanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think,
|
|
Watson, that in your medical capacity you might wait upon Miss
|
|
Smith and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered we
|
|
shall be happy to escort her to her mother's home. If she is
|
|
not quite convalescent you will find that a hint that we were
|
|
about to telegraph to a young electrician in the Midlands would
|
|
probably complete the cure. As to you, Mr. Carruthers, I think
|
|
that you have done what you could to make amends for your share
|
|
in an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidence can
|
|
be of help to you in your trial it shall be at your disposal."
|
|
|
|
|
|
In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often been
|
|
difficult for me, as the reader has probably observed, to round
|
|
off my narratives, and to give those final details which the
|
|
curious might expect. Each case has been the prelude to
|
|
another, and the crisis once over the actors have passed for
|
|
ever out of our busy lives. I find, however, a short note at
|
|
the end of my manuscripts dealing with this case, in which
|
|
I have put it upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed
|
|
inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril
|
|
Morton, the senior partner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous
|
|
Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley were both
|
|
tried for abduction and assault, the former getting seven years
|
|
and the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers I have no record,
|
|
but I am sure that his assault was not viewed very gravely by
|
|
the Court, since Woodley had the reputation of being a most
|
|
dangerous ruffian, and I think that a few months were sufficient
|
|
to satisfy the demands of justice.
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 27 FEBRUARY, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
V. --- The Adventure of the Priory School.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WE have had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small
|
|
stage at Baker Street, but I cannot recollect anything more
|
|
sudden and startling than the first appearance of Thorneycroft
|
|
Huxtable, M.A., Ph.D., etc. His card, which seemed too small to
|
|
carry the weight of his academic distinctions, preceded him by a
|
|
few seconds, and then he entered himself -- so large, so pompous,
|
|
and so dignified that he was the very embodiment of self-possession
|
|
and solidity. And yet his first action when the door had closed
|
|
behind him was to stagger against the table, whence he slipped
|
|
down upon the floor, and there was that majestic figure prostrate
|
|
and insensible upon our bearskin hearthrug.
|
|
|
|
We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in
|
|
silent amazement at this ponderous piece of wreckage, which told
|
|
of some sudden and fatal storm far out on the ocean of life.
|
|
Then Holmes hurried with a cushion for his head and I with
|
|
brandy for his lips. The heavy white face was seamed with lines
|
|
of trouble, the hanging pouches under the closed eyes were
|
|
leaden in colour, the loose mouth drooped dolorously at the corners,
|
|
the rolling chins were unshaven. Collar and shirt bore the grime
|
|
of a long journey, and the hair bristled unkempt from the
|
|
well-shaped head. It was a sorely-stricken man who lay before us.
|
|
|
|
"What is it, Watson?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Absolute exhaustion -- possibly mere hunger and fatigue," said I,
|
|
with my finger on the thready pulse, where the stream of life
|
|
trickled thin and small.
|
|
|
|
"Return ticket from Mackleton, in the North of England," said Holmes,
|
|
drawing it from the watch-pocket. "It is not twelve o'clock yet.
|
|
He has certainly been an early starter."
|
|
|
|
The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of
|
|
vacant, grey eyes looked up at us. An instant later the man
|
|
had scrambled on to his feet, his face crimson with shame.
|
|
|
|
"Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes; I have been a little
|
|
overwrought. Thank you, if I might have a glass of milk and
|
|
a biscuit I have no doubt that I should be better. I came
|
|
personally, Mr. Holmes, in order to ensure that you would return
|
|
with me. I feared that no telegram would convince you of the
|
|
absolute urgency of the case."
|
|
|
|
"When you are quite restored ----"
|
|
|
|
"I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak.
|
|
I wish you, Mr. Holmes, to come to Mackleton with me by the next train."
|
|
|
|
My friend shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy
|
|
at present. I am retained in this case of the Ferrers Documents,
|
|
and the Abergavenny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very
|
|
important issue could call me from London at present."
|
|
|
|
"Important!" Our visitor threw up his hands. "Have you heard
|
|
nothing of the abduction of the only son of the Duke of Holdernesse?"
|
|
|
|
"What! the late Cabinet Minister?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there
|
|
was some rumour in the GLOBE last night. I thought it might
|
|
have reached your ears."
|
|
|
|
Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out Volume "H"
|
|
in his encyclopaedia of reference.
|
|
|
|
"`Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K.G., P.C.' -- half the alphabet!
|
|
`Baron Beverley, Earl of Carston' -- dear me, what a list!
|
|
`Lord Lieutenant of Hallamshire since 1900. Married Edith,
|
|
daughter of Sir Charles Appledore, 1888. Heir and only child,
|
|
Lord Saltire. Owns about two hundred and fifty thousand acres.
|
|
Minerals in Lancashire and Wales. Address: Carlton House
|
|
Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire; Carston Castle, Bangor,
|
|
Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief Secretary of State
|
|
for --' Well, well, this man is certainly one of the greatest
|
|
subjects of the Crown!"
|
|
|
|
"The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes,
|
|
that you take a very high line in professional matters, and that
|
|
you are prepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you,
|
|
however, that his Grace has already intimated that a cheque for five
|
|
thousand pounds will be handed over to the person who can tell him
|
|
where his son is, and another thousand to him who can name the man,
|
|
or men, who have taken him."
|
|
|
|
"It is a princely offer," said Holmes. "Watson, I think that
|
|
we shall accompany Dr. Huxtable back to the North of England.
|
|
And now, Dr. Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk you
|
|
will kindly tell me what has happened, when it happened,
|
|
how it happened, and, finally, what Dr. Thorneycroft Huxtable,
|
|
of the Priory School, near Mackleton, has to do with the matter,
|
|
and why he comes three days after an event -- the state of your
|
|
chin gives the date -- to ask for my humble services."
|
|
|
|
Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had
|
|
come back to his eyes and the colour to his cheeks as he set
|
|
himself with great vigour and lucidity to explain the situation.
|
|
|
|
"I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory
|
|
school, of which I am the founder and principal. `Huxtable's
|
|
Sidelights on Horace' may possibly recall my name to your
|
|
memories. The Priory is, without exception, the best and most
|
|
select preparatory school in England. Lord Leverstoke, the Earl
|
|
of Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames -- they all have entrusted
|
|
their sons to me. But I felt that my school had reached its
|
|
zenith when, three weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent
|
|
Mr. James Wilder, his secretary, with the intimation that young
|
|
Lord Saltire, ten years old, his only son and heir, was about
|
|
to be committed to my charge. Little did I think that this
|
|
would be the prelude to the most crushing misfortune of my life.
|
|
|
|
"On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the
|
|
summer term. He was a charming youth, and he soon fell into
|
|
our ways. I may tell you -- I trust that I am not indiscreet,
|
|
but half-confidences are absurd in such a case -- that he was
|
|
not entirely happy at home. It is an open secret that the Duke's
|
|
married life had not been a peaceful one, and the matter had
|
|
ended in a separation by mutual consent, the Duchess taking up
|
|
her residence in the South of France. This had occurred very
|
|
shortly before, and the boy's sympathies are known to have been
|
|
strongly with his mother. He moped after her departure from
|
|
Holdernesse Hall, and it was for this reason that the Duke
|
|
desired to send him to my establishment. In a fortnight the boy
|
|
was quite at home with us, and was apparently absolutely happy.
|
|
|
|
"He was last seen on the night of May 13th -- that is,
|
|
the night of last Monday. His room was on the second floor,
|
|
and was approached through another larger room in which two
|
|
boys were sleeping. These boys saw and heard nothing, so that
|
|
it is certain that young Saltire did not pass out that way.
|
|
His window was open, and there is a stout ivy plant leading to
|
|
the ground. We could trace no footmarks below, but it is sure
|
|
that this is the only possible exit.
|
|
|
|
"His absence was discovered at seven o'clock on Tuesday morning.
|
|
His bed had been slept in. He had dressed himself fully before
|
|
going off in his usual school suit of black Eton jacket and dark
|
|
grey trousers. There were no signs that anyone had entered the
|
|
room, and it is quite certain that anything in the nature of cries,
|
|
or a struggle, would have been heard, since Caunter, the elder boy
|
|
in the inner room, is a very light sleeper.
|
|
|
|
"When Lord Saltire's disappearance was discovered I at once
|
|
called a roll of the whole establishment, boys, masters,
|
|
and servants. It was then that we ascertained that Lord Saltire
|
|
had not been alone in his flight. Heidegger, the German master,
|
|
was missing. His room was on the second floor, at the farther
|
|
end of the building, facing the same way as Lord Saltire's.
|
|
His bed had also been slept in; but he had apparently gone away
|
|
partly dressed, since his shirt and socks were lying on the floor.
|
|
He had undoubtedly let himself down by the ivy, for we could see
|
|
the marks of his feet where he had landed on the lawn.
|
|
His bicycle was kept in a small shed beside this lawn,
|
|
and it also was gone.
|
|
|
|
"He had been with me for two years, and came with the best
|
|
references; but he was a silent, morose man, not very popular
|
|
either with masters or boys. No trace could be found of the
|
|
fugitives, and now on Thursday morning we are as ignorant as
|
|
we were on Tuesday. Inquiry was, of course, made at once at
|
|
Holdernesse Hall. It is only a few miles away, and we imagined
|
|
that in some sudden attack of home-sickness he had gone back
|
|
to his father; but nothing had been heard of him. The Duke is
|
|
greatly agitated -- and as to me, you have seen yourselves the
|
|
state of nervous prostration to which the suspense and the
|
|
responsibility have reduced me. Mr. Holmes, if ever you put
|
|
forward your full powers, I implore you to do so now, for never
|
|
in your life could you have a case which is more worthy of them."
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes had listened with the utmost intentness to the
|
|
statement of the unhappy schoolmaster. His drawn brows and the
|
|
deep furrow between them showed that he needed no exhortation to
|
|
concentrate all his attention upon a problem which, apart from
|
|
the tremendous interests involved, must appeal so directly to
|
|
his love of the complex and the unusual. He now drew out his
|
|
note-book and jotted down one or two memoranda.
|
|
|
|
"You have been very remiss in not coming to me sooner," said he,
|
|
severely. "You start me on my investigation with a very serious
|
|
handicap. It is inconceivable, for example, that this ivy and
|
|
this lawn would have yielded nothing to an expert observer."
|
|
|
|
"I am not to blame, Mr. Holmes. His Grace was extremely
|
|
desirous to avoid all public scandal. He was afraid of
|
|
his family unhappiness being dragged before the world.
|
|
He has a deep horror of anything of the kind."
|
|
|
|
"But there has been some official investigation?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing. An apparent
|
|
clue was at once obtained, since a boy and a young man were
|
|
reported to have been seen leaving a neighbouring station by
|
|
an early train. Only last night we had news that the couple
|
|
had been hunted down in Liverpool, and they prove to have no
|
|
connection whatever with the matter in hand. Then it was that
|
|
in my despair and disappointment, after a sleepless night,
|
|
I came straight to you by the early train."
|
|
|
|
"I suppose the local investigation was relaxed while this false
|
|
clue was being followed up?"
|
|
|
|
"It was entirely dropped."
|
|
|
|
"So that three days have been wasted. The affair has been most
|
|
deplorably handled."
|
|
|
|
"I feel it, and admit it."
|
|
|
|
"And yet the problem should be capable of ultimate solution.
|
|
I shall be very happy to look into it. Have you been able to trace
|
|
any connection between the missing boy and this German master?"
|
|
|
|
"None at all."
|
|
|
|
"Was he in the master's class?"
|
|
|
|
"No; he never exchanged a word with him so far as I know."
|
|
|
|
"That is certainly very singular. Had the boy a bicycle?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"Was any other bicycle missing?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"Is that certain?"
|
|
|
|
"Quite."
|
|
|
|
"Well, now, you do not mean to seriously suggest that this
|
|
German rode off upon a bicycle in the dead of the night bearing
|
|
the boy in his arms?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"Then what is the theory in your mind?"
|
|
|
|
"The bicycle may have been a blind. It may have been hidden
|
|
somewhere and the pair gone off on foot."
|
|
|
|
"Quite so; but it seems rather an absurd blind, does it not?
|
|
Were there other bicycles in this shed?"
|
|
|
|
"Several."
|
|
|
|
"Would he not have hidden A COUPLE had he desired to give the
|
|
idea that they had gone off upon them?"
|
|
|
|
"I suppose he would."
|
|
|
|
"Of course he would. The blind theory won't do. But the
|
|
incident is an admirable starting-point for an investigation.
|
|
After all, a bicycle is not an easy thing to conceal or to destroy.
|
|
One other question. Did anyone call to see the boy on the day
|
|
before he disappeared?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"Did he get any letters?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; one letter."
|
|
|
|
"From whom?"
|
|
|
|
"From his father."
|
|
|
|
"Do you open the boys' letters?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"How do you know it was from the father?"
|
|
|
|
"The coat of arms was on the envelope, and it was addressed
|
|
in the Duke's peculiar stiff hand. Besides, the Duke remembers
|
|
having written."
|
|
|
|
"When had he a letter before that?"
|
|
|
|
"Not for several days."
|
|
|
|
"Had he ever one from France?"
|
|
|
|
"No; never.
|
|
|
|
"You see the point of my questions, of course. Either the
|
|
boy was carried off by force or he went of his own free will.
|
|
In the latter case you would expect that some prompting from
|
|
outside would be needed to make so young a lad do such a thing.
|
|
If he has had no visitors, that prompting must have come in
|
|
letters. Hence I try to find out who were his correspondents."
|
|
|
|
"I fear I cannot help you much. His only correspondent,
|
|
so far as I know, was his own father."
|
|
|
|
"Who wrote to him on the very day of his disappearance.
|
|
Were the relations between father and son very friendly?"
|
|
|
|
"His Grace is never very friendly with anyone. He is completely
|
|
immersed in large public questions, and is rather inaccessible
|
|
to all ordinary emotions. But he was always kind to the boy in
|
|
his own way."
|
|
|
|
"But the sympathies of the latter were with the mother?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
|
|
"Did he say so?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"The Duke, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Good heavens, no!"
|
|
|
|
"Then how could you know?"
|
|
|
|
"I have had some confidential talks with Mr. James Wilder,
|
|
his Grace's secretary. It was he who gave me the information
|
|
about Lord Saltire's feelings."
|
|
|
|
"I see. By the way, that last letter of the Duke's -- was it
|
|
found in the boy's room after he was gone?"
|
|
|
|
"No; he had taken it with him. I think, Mr. Holmes, it is time
|
|
that we were leaving for Euston."
|
|
|
|
"I will order a four-wheeler. In a quarter of an hour we shall
|
|
be at your service. If you are telegraphing home, Mr. Huxtable,
|
|
it would be well to allow the people in your neighbourhood to
|
|
imagine that the inquiry is still going on in Liverpool, or
|
|
wherever else that red herring led your pack. In the meantime
|
|
I will do a little quiet work at your own doors, and perhaps
|
|
the scent is not so cold but that two old hounds like Watson
|
|
and myself may get a sniff of it."
|
|
|
|
|
|
That evening found us in the cold, bracing atmosphere of the
|
|
Peak country, in which Dr. Huxtable's famous school is situated.
|
|
It was already dark when we reached it. A card was lying on the
|
|
hall table, and the butler whispered something to his master,
|
|
who turned to us with agitation in every heavy feature.
|
|
|
|
"The Duke is here," said he. "The Duke and Mr. Wilder are
|
|
in the study. Come, gentlemen, and I will introduce you."
|
|
|
|
I was, of course, familiar with the pictures of the famous
|
|
statesman, but the man himself was very different from his
|
|
representation. He was a tall and stately person, scrupulously
|
|
dressed, with a drawn, thin face, and a nose which was
|
|
grotesquely curved and long. His complexion was of a dead
|
|
pallor, which was more startling by contrast with a long,
|
|
dwindling beard of vivid red, which flowed down over his white
|
|
waistcoat, with his watch-chain gleaming through its fringe.
|
|
Such was the stately presence who looked stonily at us from the
|
|
centre of Dr. Huxtable's hearthrug. Beside him stood a very
|
|
young man, whom I understood to be Wilder, the private
|
|
secretary. He was small, nervous, alert, with intelligent,
|
|
light-blue eyes and mobile features. It was he who at once,
|
|
in an incisive and positive tone, opened the conversation.
|
|
|
|
"I called this morning, Dr. Huxtable, too late to prevent you
|
|
from starting for London. I learned that your object was to
|
|
invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes to undertake the conduct of this
|
|
case. His Grace is surprised, Dr. Huxtable, that you should
|
|
have taken such a step without consulting him."
|
|
|
|
"When I learned that the police had failed ----"
|
|
|
|
"His Grace is by no means convinced that the police have failed."
|
|
|
|
"But surely, Mr. Wilder ----"
|
|
|
|
"You are well aware, Dr. Huxtable, that his Grace is particularly
|
|
anxious to avoid all public scandal. He prefers to take as few
|
|
people as possible into his confidence."
|
|
|
|
"The matter can be easily remedied," said the brow-beaten doctor;
|
|
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes can return to London by the morning train."
|
|
|
|
"Hardly that, Doctor, hardly that," said Holmes, in his
|
|
blandest voice. "This northern air is invigorating and pleasant,
|
|
so I propose to spend a few days upon your moors, and to occupy
|
|
my mind as best I may. Whether I have the shelter of your roof
|
|
or of the village inn is, of course, for you to decide."
|
|
|
|
I could see that the unfortunate doctor was in the last stage
|
|
of indecision, from which he was rescued by the deep, sonorous
|
|
voice of the red-bearded Duke, which boomed out like a dinner-gong.
|
|
|
|
"I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Huxtable, that you would have done
|
|
wisely to consult me. But since Mr. Holmes has already been
|
|
taken into your confidence, it would indeed be absurd that we
|
|
should not avail ourselves of his services. Far from going to
|
|
the inn, Mr. Holmes, I should be pleased if you would come and
|
|
stay with me at Holdernesse Hall."
|
|
|
|
"I thank your Grace. For the purposes of my investigation
|
|
I think that it would be wiser for me to remain at the scene
|
|
of the mystery."
|
|
|
|
"Just as you like, Mr. Holmes. Any information which Mr. Wilder
|
|
or I can give you is, of course, at your disposal."
|
|
|
|
"It will probably be necessary for me to see you at the Hall,"
|
|
said Holmes. "I would only ask you now, sir, whether you have
|
|
formed any explanation in your own mind as to the mysterious
|
|
disappearance of your son?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, I have not."
|
|
|
|
"Excuse me if I allude to that which is painful to you,
|
|
but I have no alternative. Do you think that the Duchess
|
|
had anything to do with the matter?"
|
|
|
|
The great Minister showed perceptible hesitation.
|
|
|
|
"I do not think so," he said, at last.
|
|
|
|
"The other most obvious explanation is that the child
|
|
has been kidnapped for the purpose of levying ransom.
|
|
You have not had any demand of the sort?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir."
|
|
|
|
"One more question, your Grace. I understand that you wrote
|
|
to your son upon the day when this incident occurred."
|
|
|
|
"No; I wrote upon the day before."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. But he received it on that day?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
|
|
"Was there anything in your letter which might have unbalanced
|
|
him or induced him to take such a step?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"Did you post that letter yourself?"
|
|
|
|
The nobleman's reply was interrupted by his secretary,
|
|
who broke in with some heat.
|
|
|
|
"His Grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself,"
|
|
said he. "This letter was laid with others upon the study table,
|
|
and I myself put them in the post-bag."
|
|
|
|
"You are sure this one was among them?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; I observed it."
|
|
|
|
"How many letters did your Grace write that day?"
|
|
|
|
"Twenty or thirty. I have a large correspondence.
|
|
But surely this is somewhat irrelevant?"
|
|
|
|
"Not entirely," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"For my own part," the Duke continued, "I have advised the
|
|
police to turn their attention to the South of France.
|
|
I have already said that I do not believe that the Duchess would
|
|
encourage so monstrous an action, but the lad had the most
|
|
wrong-headed opinions, and it is possible that he may have fled
|
|
to her, aided and abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable,
|
|
that we will now return to the Hall."
|
|
|
|
I could see that there were other questions which Holmes would
|
|
have wished to put; but the nobleman's abrupt manner showed that
|
|
the interview was at an end. It was evident that to his
|
|
intensely aristocratic nature this discussion of his intimate
|
|
family affairs with a stranger was most abhorrent, and that he
|
|
feared lest every fresh question would throw a fiercer light
|
|
into the discreetly shadowed corners of his ducal history.
|
|
|
|
When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung
|
|
himself at once with characteristic eagerness into the
|
|
investigation.
|
|
|
|
The boy's chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing
|
|
save the absolute conviction that it was only through the window
|
|
that he could have escaped. The German master's room and
|
|
effects gave no further clue. In his case a trailer of ivy had
|
|
given way under his weight, and we saw by the light of a lantern
|
|
the mark on the lawn where his heels had come down. That one
|
|
dint in the short green grass was the only material witness left
|
|
of this inexplicable nocturnal flight.
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after
|
|
eleven. He had obtained a large ordnance map of the
|
|
neighbourhood, and this he brought into my room, where he laid
|
|
it out on the bed, and, having balanced the lamp in the middle
|
|
of it, he began to smoke over it, and occasionally to point out
|
|
objects of interest with the reeking amber of his pipe.
|
|
|
|
"This case grows upon me, Watson," said he. "There are decidedly
|
|
some points of interest in connection with it. In this early
|
|
stage I want you to realize those geographical features which may
|
|
have a good deal to do with our investigation.
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
"Look at this map. This dark square is the Priory School.
|
|
I'll put a pin in it. Now, this line is the main road.
|
|
You see that it runs east and west past the school, and you
|
|
see also that there is no side road for a mile either way.
|
|
If these two folk passed away by road it was THIS road."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly."
|
|
|
|
"By a singular and happy chance we are able to some extent to
|
|
check what passed along this road during the night in question.
|
|
At this point, where my pipe is now resting, a country constable
|
|
was on duty from twelve to six. It is, as you perceive, the
|
|
first cross road on the east side. This man declares that he
|
|
was not absent from his post for an instant, and he is positive
|
|
that neither boy nor man could have gone that way unseen.
|
|
I have spoken with this policeman to-night, and he appears to
|
|
me to be a perfectly reliable person. That blocks this end.
|
|
We have now to deal with the other. There is an inn here,
|
|
the Red Bull, the landlady of which was ill. She had sent
|
|
to Mackleton for a doctor, but he did not arrive until morning,
|
|
being absent at another case. The people at the inn were alert
|
|
all night, awaiting his coming, and one or other of them seems
|
|
to have continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that
|
|
no one passed. If their evidence is good, then we are fortunate
|
|
enough to be able to block the west, and also to be able to say
|
|
that the fugitives did NOT use the road at all."
|
|
|
|
"But the bicycle?" I objected.
|
|
|
|
"Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently. To continue
|
|
our reasoning: if these people did not go by the road, they
|
|
must have traversed the country to the north of the house or
|
|
to the south of the house. That is certain. Let us weigh the
|
|
one against the other. On the south of the house is, as you
|
|
perceive, a large district of arable land, cut up into small
|
|
fields, with stone walls between them. There, I admit that a
|
|
bicycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to the
|
|
country on the north. Here there lies a grove of trees, marked
|
|
as the `Ragged Shaw,' and on the farther side stretches a great
|
|
rolling moor, Lower Gill Moor, extending for ten miles and
|
|
sloping gradually upwards. Here, at one side of this
|
|
wilderness, is Holdernesse Hall, ten miles by road, but only six
|
|
across the moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A few moor
|
|
farmers have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle.
|
|
Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only inhabitants
|
|
until you come to the Chesterfield high road. There is a church
|
|
there, you see, a few cottages, and an inn. Beyond that the
|
|
hills become precipitous. Surely it is here to the north that
|
|
our quest must lie."
|
|
|
|
"But the bicycle?" I persisted.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well!" said Holmes, impatiently. "A good cyclist does
|
|
not need a high road. The moor is intersected with paths and
|
|
the moon was at the full. Halloa! what is this?"
|
|
|
|
There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant
|
|
afterwards Dr. Huxtable was in the room. In his hand he held
|
|
a blue cricket-cap, with a white chevron on the peak.
|
|
|
|
"At last we have a clue!" he cried. "Thank Heaven! at last
|
|
we are on the dear boy's track! It is his cap."
|
|
|
|
"Where was it found?"
|
|
|
|
"In the van of the gipsies who camped on the moor.
|
|
They left on Tuesday. To-day the police traced them
|
|
down and examined their caravan. This was found."
|
|
|
|
"How do they account for it?"
|
|
|
|
"They shuffled and lied -- said that they found it on the
|
|
moor on Tuesday morning. They know where he is, the rascals!
|
|
Thank goodness, they are all safe under lock and key. Either
|
|
the fear of the law or the Duke's purse will certainly get out
|
|
of them all that they know."
|
|
|
|
"So far, so good," said Holmes, when the doctor had at last
|
|
left the room. "It at least bears out the theory that it is
|
|
on the side of the Lower Gill Moor that we must hope for results.
|
|
The police have really done nothing locally, save the arrest
|
|
of these gipsies. Look here, Watson! There is a watercourse
|
|
across the moor. You see it marked here in the map. In some
|
|
parts it widens into a morass. This is particularly so in the
|
|
region between Holdernesse Hall and the school. It is vain to
|
|
look elsewhere for tracks in this dry weather; but at THAT point
|
|
there is certainly a chance of some record being left. I will
|
|
call you early to-morrow morning, and you and I will try if we
|
|
can throw some little light upon the mystery."
|
|
|
|
The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form
|
|
of Holmes by my bedside. He was fully dressed, and had apparently
|
|
already been out.
|
|
|
|
"I have done the lawn and the bicycle shed," said he.
|
|
"I have also had a ramble through the Ragged Shaw. Now, Watson,
|
|
there is cocoa ready in the next room. I must beg you to hurry,
|
|
for we have a great day before us."
|
|
|
|
His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration
|
|
of the master workman who sees his work lie ready before him.
|
|
A very different Holmes, this active, alert man, from the
|
|
introspective and pallid dreamer of Baker Street. I felt,
|
|
as I looked upon that supple figure, alive with nervous energy,
|
|
that it was indeed a strenuous day that awaited us.
|
|
|
|
And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high
|
|
hopes we struck across the peaty, russet moor, intersected with
|
|
a thousand sheep paths, until we came to the broad, light-green
|
|
belt which marked the morass between us and Holdernesse.
|
|
Certainly, if the lad had gone homewards, he must have passed
|
|
this, and he could not pass it without leaving his traces.
|
|
But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a darkening
|
|
face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant of
|
|
every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep-marks there
|
|
were in profusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had
|
|
left their tracks. Nothing more.
|
|
|
|
"Check number one," said Holmes, looking gloomily over the
|
|
rolling expanse of the moor. "There is another morass down
|
|
yonder and a narrow neck between. Halloa! halloa! halloa!
|
|
what have we here?"
|
|
|
|
We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it,
|
|
clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle.
|
|
|
|
"Hurrah!" I cried. "We have it."
|
|
|
|
But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled and
|
|
expectant rather than joyous.
|
|
|
|
"A bicycle, certainly, but not THE bicycle," said he.
|
|
"I am familiar with forty-two different impressions left by tyres.
|
|
This, as you perceive, is a Dunlop, with a patch upon the outer cover.
|
|
Heidegger's tyres were Palmer's, leaving longitudinal stripes.
|
|
Aveling, the mathematical master, was sure upon the point.
|
|
Therefore, it is not Heidegger's track."
|
|
|
|
"The boy's, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his
|
|
possession. But this we have utterly failed to do. This track,
|
|
as you perceive, was made by a rider who was going from the
|
|
direction of the school."
|
|
|
|
"Or towards it?"
|
|
|
|
"No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is,
|
|
of course, the hind wheel, upon which the weight rests.
|
|
You perceive several places where it has passed across and
|
|
obliterated the more shallow mark of the front one. It was
|
|
undoubtedly heading away from the school. It may or may not
|
|
be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow it backwards
|
|
before we go any farther."
|
|
|
|
We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks
|
|
as we emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the
|
|
path backwards, we picked out another spot, where a spring
|
|
trickled across it. Here, once again, was the mark of the
|
|
bicycle, though nearly obliterated by the hoofs of cows. After
|
|
that there was no sign, but the path ran right on into Ragged
|
|
Shaw, the wood which backed on to the school. From this wood
|
|
the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down on a boulder and
|
|
rested his chin in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettes
|
|
before he moved.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well," said he, at last. "It is, of course, possible
|
|
that a cunning man might change the tyre of his bicycle in order
|
|
to leave unfamiliar tracks. A criminal who was capable of such
|
|
a thought is a man whom I should be proud to do business with.
|
|
We will leave this question undecided and hark back to our
|
|
morass again, for we have left a good deal unexplored."
|
|
|
|
We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden
|
|
portion of the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously
|
|
rewarded. Right across the lower part of the bog lay a miry
|
|
path. Holmes gave a cry of delight as he approached it.
|
|
An impression like a fine bundle of telegraph wires ran down
|
|
the centre of it. It was the Palmer tyre.
|
|
|
|
"Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!" cried Holmes, exultantly.
|
|
"My reasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson."
|
|
|
|
"I congratulate you."
|
|
|
|
"But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear
|
|
of the path. Now let us follow the trail. I fear that
|
|
it will not lead very far."
|
|
|
|
We found, however, as we advanced that this portion of the moor
|
|
is intersected with soft patches, and, though we frequently lost
|
|
sight of the track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more.
|
|
|
|
"Do you observe," said Holmes, "that the rider is now
|
|
undoubtedly forcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it.
|
|
Look at this impression, where you get both tyres clear.
|
|
The one is as deep as the other. That can only mean that
|
|
the rider is throwing his weight on to the handle-bar,
|
|
as a man does when he is sprinting. By Jove! he has had a fall."
|
|
|
|
There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the
|
|
track. Then there were a few footmarks, and the tyre reappeared
|
|
once more.
|
|
|
|
"A side-slip," I suggested.
|
|
|
|
Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my
|
|
horror I perceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled
|
|
with crimson. On the path, too, and among the heather were dark
|
|
stains of clotted blood.
|
|
|
|
"Bad!" said Holmes. "Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an
|
|
unnecessary footstep! What do I read here? He fell wounded,
|
|
he stood up, he remounted, he proceeded. But there is no other
|
|
track. Cattle on this side path. He was surely not gored by a
|
|
bull? Impossible! But I see no traces of anyone else. We must
|
|
push on, Watson. Surely with stains as well as the track to
|
|
guide us he cannot escape us now."
|
|
|
|
Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tyre
|
|
began to curve fantastically upon the wet and shining path.
|
|
Suddenly, as I looked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye
|
|
from amid the thick gorse bushes. Out of them we dragged a
|
|
bicycle, Palmer-tyred, one pedal bent, and the whole front of it
|
|
horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. On the other side of
|
|
the bushes a shoe was projecting. We ran round, and there lay
|
|
the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full bearded, with
|
|
spectacles, one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause
|
|
of his death was a frightful blow upon the head, which had
|
|
crushed in part of his skull. That he could have gone on after
|
|
receiving such an injury said much for the vitality and courage
|
|
of the man. He wore shoes, but no socks, and his open coat
|
|
disclosed a night-shirt beneath it. It was undoubtedly the
|
|
German master.
|
|
|
|
Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with
|
|
great attention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I
|
|
could see by his ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not,
|
|
in his opinion, advanced us much in our inquiry.
|
|
|
|
"It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson," said he,
|
|
at last. "My own inclinations are to push this inquiry on,
|
|
for we have already lost so much time that we cannot afford to
|
|
waste another hour. On the other hand, we are bound to inform
|
|
the police of the discovery, and to see that this poor fellow's
|
|
body is looked after."
|
|
|
|
"I could take a note back."
|
|
|
|
"But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit!
|
|
There is a fellow cutting peat up yonder. Bring him over here,
|
|
and he will guide the police."
|
|
|
|
I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the
|
|
frightened man with a note to Dr. Huxtable.
|
|
|
|
"Now, Watson," said he, "we have picked up two clues this morning.
|
|
One is the bicycle with the Palmer tyre, and we see what that
|
|
has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop.
|
|
Before we start to investigate that, let us try to realize what
|
|
we DO know so as to make the most of it, and to separate the
|
|
essential from the accidental."
|
|
|
|
"First of all I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly
|
|
left of his own free will. He got down from his window and he
|
|
went off, either alone or with someone. That is sure."
|
|
|
|
I assented.
|
|
|
|
"Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master.
|
|
The boy was fully dressed when he fled. Therefore, he foresaw
|
|
what he would do. But the German went without his socks.
|
|
He certainly acted on very short notice."
|
|
|
|
"Undoubtedly."
|
|
|
|
"Why did he go? Because, from his bedroom window, he saw the
|
|
flight of the boy. Because he wished to overtake him and bring
|
|
him back. He seized his bicycle, pursued the lad, and in
|
|
pursuing him met his death."
|
|
|
|
"So it would seem."
|
|
|
|
"Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural
|
|
action of a man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him.
|
|
He would know that he could overtake him. But the German does not
|
|
do so. He turns to his bicycle. I am told that he was an
|
|
excellent cyclist. He would not do this if he did not see that
|
|
the boy had some swift means of escape."
|
|
|
|
"The other bicycle."
|
|
|
|
"Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five
|
|
miles from the school -- not by a bullet, mark you, which even
|
|
a lad might conceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt
|
|
by a vigorous arm. The lad, then, HAD a companion in his flight.
|
|
And the flight was a swift one, since it took five miles before
|
|
an expert cyclist could overtake them. Yet we survey the ground
|
|
round the scene of the tragedy. What do we find? A few cattle
|
|
tracks, nothing more. I took a wide sweep round, and there is no
|
|
path within fifty yards. Another cyclist could have had nothing
|
|
to do with the actual murder. Nor were there any human footmarks."
|
|
|
|
"Holmes," I cried, "this is impossible."
|
|
|
|
"Admirable!" he said. "A most illuminating remark.
|
|
It IS impossible as I state it, and therefore I must in some
|
|
respect have stated it wrong. Yet you saw for yourself.
|
|
Can you suggest any fallacy?"
|
|
|
|
"He could not have fractured his skull in a fall?"
|
|
|
|
"In a morass, Watson?"
|
|
|
|
"I am at my wit's end."
|
|
|
|
"Tut, tut; we have solved some worse problems. At least we have
|
|
plenty of material, if we can only use it. Come, then, and,
|
|
having exhausted the Palmer, let us see what the Dunlop with the
|
|
patched cover has to offer us."
|
|
|
|
We picked up the track and followed it onwards for some distance;
|
|
but soon the moor rose into a long, heather-tufted curve, and we
|
|
left the watercourse behind us. No further help from tracks could
|
|
be hoped for. At the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tyre
|
|
it might equally have led to Holdernesse Hall, the stately towers
|
|
of which rose some miles to our left, or to a low, grey village
|
|
which lay in front of us, and marked the position of the
|
|
Chesterfield high road.
|
|
|
|
As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the
|
|
sign of a game-cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan
|
|
and clutched me by the shoulder to save himself from falling.
|
|
He had had one of those violent strains of the ankle which leave
|
|
a man helpless. With difficulty he limped up to the door, where
|
|
a squat, dark, elderly man was smoking a black clay pipe.
|
|
|
|
"How are you, Mr. Reuben Hayes?" said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Who are you, and how do you get my name so pat?" the countryman
|
|
answered, with a suspicious flash of a pair of cunning eyes.
|
|
|
|
"Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to
|
|
see a man who is master of his own house. I suppose you haven't
|
|
such a thing as a carriage in your stables?"
|
|
|
|
"No; I have not."
|
|
|
|
"I can hardly put my foot to the ground."
|
|
|
|
"Don't put it to the ground."
|
|
|
|
"But I can't walk."
|
|
|
|
"Well, then, hop."
|
|
|
|
Mr. Reuben Hayes's manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took
|
|
it with admirable good-humour.
|
|
|
|
"Look here, my man," said he. "This is really rather an awkward
|
|
fix for me. I don't mind how I get on."
|
|
|
|
"Neither do I," said the morose landlord.
|
|
|
|
"The matter is very important. I would offer you a sovereign
|
|
for the use of a bicycle."
|
|
|
|
The landlord pricked up his ears.
|
|
|
|
"Where do you want to go?"
|
|
|
|
"To Holdernesse Hall."
|
|
|
|
"Pals of the Dook, I suppose?" said the landlord, surveying our
|
|
mud-stained garments with ironical eyes.
|
|
|
|
Holmes laughed good-naturedly.
|
|
|
|
"He'll be glad to see us, anyhow."
|
|
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
|
|
"Because we bring him news of his lost son."
|
|
|
|
The landlord gave a very visible start.
|
|
|
|
"What, you're on his track?"
|
|
|
|
"He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him
|
|
every hour."
|
|
|
|
Again a swift change passed over the heavy, unshaven face.
|
|
His manner was suddenly genial.
|
|
|
|
"I've less reason to wish the Dook well than most men," said he,
|
|
"for I was his head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me.
|
|
It was him that sacked me without a character on the word of a
|
|
lying corn-chandler. But I'm glad to hear that the young lord
|
|
was heard of in Liverpool, and I'll help you to take the news
|
|
to the Hall."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you," said Holmes. "We'll have some food first.
|
|
Then you can bring round the bicycle."
|
|
|
|
"I haven't got a bicycle."
|
|
|
|
Holmes held up a sovereign.
|
|
|
|
"I tell you, man, that I haven't got one. I'll let you have two
|
|
horses as far as the Hall."
|
|
|
|
"Well, well," said Holmes, "we'll talk about it when we've had
|
|
something to eat."
|
|
|
|
When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen it was
|
|
astonishing how rapidly that sprained ankle recovered. It was
|
|
nearly nightfall, and we had eaten nothing since early morning,
|
|
so that we spent some time over our meal. Holmes was lost in
|
|
thought, and once or twice he walked over to the window and
|
|
stared earnestly out. It opened on to a squalid courtyard.
|
|
In the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad was at work.
|
|
On the other side were the stables. Holmes had sat down again
|
|
after one of these excursions, when he suddenly sprang out of
|
|
his chair with a loud exclamation.
|
|
|
|
"By Heaven, Watson, I believe that I've got it!" he cried.
|
|
"Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any
|
|
cow-tracks to-day?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, several."
|
|
|
|
"Where?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, everywhere. They were at the morass, and again
|
|
on the path, and again near where poor Heidegger met his death."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't remember seeing any."
|
|
|
|
"Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line,
|
|
but never a cow on the whole moor; very strange, Watson, eh?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, it is strange."
|
|
|
|
"Now, Watson, make an effort; throw your mind back!
|
|
Can you see those tracks upon the path?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I can."
|
|
|
|
"Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like that,
|
|
Watson" -- he arranged a number of bread-crumbs in this fashion
|
|
-- : : : : : -- "and sometimes like this" -- : . : . : . : . --
|
|
"and occasionally like this" -- . ` . ` . ` . "Can you remember that?"
|
|
|
|
"No, I cannot."
|
|
|
|
"But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at
|
|
our leisure and verify it. What a blind beetle I have been not
|
|
to draw my conclusion!"
|
|
|
|
"And what is your conclusion?"
|
|
|
|
"Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops.
|
|
By George, Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that
|
|
thought out such a blind as that! The coast seems to be clear,
|
|
save for that lad in the smithy. Let us slip out and see what
|
|
we can see."
|
|
|
|
There were two rough-haired, unkempt horses in the tumble-down
|
|
stable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud.
|
|
|
|
"Old shoes, but newly shod -- old shoes, but new nails. This
|
|
case deserves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy."
|
|
|
|
The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes's
|
|
eye darting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood
|
|
which was scattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we
|
|
heard a step behind us, and there was the landlord, his heavy
|
|
eyebrows drawn over his savage eyes, his swarthy features
|
|
convulsed with passion. He held a short, metal-headed stick
|
|
in his hand, and he advanced in so menacing a fashion that I was
|
|
right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket.
|
|
|
|
"You infernal spies!" the man cried. "What are you doing there?"
|
|
|
|
"Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes," said Holmes, coolly, "one might think
|
|
that you were afraid of our finding something out."
|
|
|
|
The man mastered himself with a violent effort, and his grim mouth
|
|
loosened into a false laugh, which was more menacing than his frown.
|
|
|
|
"You're welcome to all you can find out in my smithy," said he.
|
|
"But look here, mister, I don't care for folk poking about my
|
|
place without my leave, so the sooner you pay your score and get
|
|
out of this the better I shall be pleased."
|
|
|
|
"All right, Mr. Hayes -- no harm meant," said Holmes.
|
|
"We have been having a look at your horses, but I think I'll
|
|
walk after all. It's not far, I believe."
|
|
|
|
"Not more than two miles to the Hall gates. That's the road
|
|
to the left." He watched us with sullen eyes until we had
|
|
left his premises.
|
|
|
|
We did not go very far along the road, for Holmes stopped
|
|
the instant that the curve hid us from the landlord's view.
|
|
|
|
"We were warm, as the children say, at that inn," said he.
|
|
"I seem to grow colder every step that I take away from it.
|
|
No, no; I can't possibly leave it."
|
|
|
|
"I am convinced," said I, "that this Reuben Hayes knows
|
|
all about it. A more self-evident villain I never saw."
|
|
|
|
"Oh! he impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses,
|
|
there is the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place,
|
|
this Fighting Cock. I think we shall have another look at it
|
|
in an unobtrusive way."
|
|
|
|
A long, sloping hillside, dotted with grey limestone boulders,
|
|
stretched behind us. We had turned off the road, and were
|
|
making our way up the hill, when, looking in the direction
|
|
of Holdernesse Hall, I saw a cyclist coming swiftly along.
|
|
|
|
"Get down, Watson!" cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon my
|
|
shoulder. We had hardly sunk from view when the man flew past
|
|
us on the road. Amid a rolling cloud of dust I caught a glimpse
|
|
of a pale, agitated face -- a face with horror in every
|
|
lineament, the mouth open, the eyes staring wildly in front.
|
|
It was like some strange caricature of the dapper James Wilder
|
|
whom we had seen the night before.
|
|
|
|
"The Duke's secretary!" cried Holmes. "Come, Watson, let us see
|
|
what he does."
|
|
|
|
We scrambled from rock to rock until in a few moments we had
|
|
made our way to a point from which we could see the front door
|
|
of the inn. Wilder's bicycle was leaning against the wall
|
|
beside it. No one was moving about the house, nor could we
|
|
catch a glimpse of any faces at the windows. Slowly the
|
|
twilight crept down as the sun sank behind the high towers of
|
|
Holdernesse Hall. Then in the gloom we saw the two side-lamps
|
|
of a trap light up in the stable yard of the inn, and shortly
|
|
afterwards heard the rattle of hoofs, as it wheeled out into the
|
|
road and tore off at a furious pace in the direction of Chesterfield.
|
|
|
|
"What do you make of that, Watson?" Holmes whispered.
|
|
|
|
"It looks like a flight."
|
|
|
|
"A single man in a dog-cart, so far as I could see. Well, it
|
|
certainly was not Mr. James Wilder, for there he is at the door."
|
|
|
|
A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the
|
|
middle of it was the black figure of the secretary, his head
|
|
advanced, peering out into the night. It was evident that he
|
|
was expecting someone. Then at last there were steps in the
|
|
road, a second figure was visible for an instant against the
|
|
light, the door shut, and all was black once more. Five minutes
|
|
later a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor.
|
|
|
|
"It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by the
|
|
Fighting Cock," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"The bar is on the other side."
|
|
|
|
"Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests.
|
|
Now, what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at
|
|
this hour of night, and who is the companion who comes to meet
|
|
him there? Come, Watson, we must really take a risk and try to
|
|
investigate this a little more closely."
|
|
|
|
Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the
|
|
door of the inn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall.
|
|
Holmes struck a match and held it to the back wheel, and I
|
|
heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a patched Dunlop tyre.
|
|
Up above us was the lighted window.
|
|
|
|
"I must have a peep through that, Watson. If you bend your back
|
|
and support yourself upon the wall, I think that I can manage."
|
|
|
|
An instant later his feet were on my shoulders.
|
|
But he was hardly up before he was down again.
|
|
|
|
"Come, my friend," said he, "our day's work has been quite long
|
|
enough. I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a
|
|
long walk to the school, and the sooner we get started the better."
|
|
|
|
He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor,
|
|
nor would he enter the school when he reached it, but went on to
|
|
Mackleton Station, whence he could send some telegrams.
|
|
Late at night I heard him consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the
|
|
tragedy of his master's death, and later still he entered my room
|
|
as alert and vigorous as he had been when he started in the morning.
|
|
"All goes well, my friend," said he. "I promise that before
|
|
to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solution of the mystery."
|
|
|
|
|
|
At eleven o'clock next morning my friend and I were walking
|
|
up the famous yew avenue of Holdernesse Hall. We were ushered
|
|
through the magnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace's
|
|
study. There we found Mr. James Wilder, demure and courtly, but
|
|
with some trace of that wild terror of the night before still
|
|
lurking in his furtive eyes and in his twitching features.
|
|
|
|
"You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry; but the fact is
|
|
that the Duke is far from well. He has been very much upset
|
|
by the tragic news. We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable
|
|
yesterday afternoon, which told us of your discovery."
|
|
|
|
"I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder."
|
|
|
|
"But he is in his room."
|
|
|
|
"Then I must go to his room."
|
|
|
|
"I believe he is in his bed."
|
|
|
|
"I will see him there."
|
|
|
|
Holmes's cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary that
|
|
it was useless to argue with him.
|
|
|
|
"Very good, Mr. Holmes; I will tell him that you are here."
|
|
|
|
After half an hour's delay the great nobleman appeared.
|
|
His face was more cadaverous than ever, his shoulders had rounded,
|
|
and he seemed to me to be an altogether older man than he had been
|
|
the morning before. He greeted us with a stately courtesy and seated
|
|
himself at his desk, his red beard streaming down on to the table.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes?" said he.
|
|
|
|
But my friend's eyes were fixed upon the secretary, who stood by
|
|
his master's chair.
|
|
|
|
"I think, your Grace, that I could speak more freely in
|
|
Mr. Wilder's absence."
|
|
|
|
The man turned a shade paler and cast a malignant glance at Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"If your Grace wishes ----"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, yes; you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, what have you to say?"
|
|
|
|
My friend waited until the door had closed behind the
|
|
retreating secretary.
|
|
|
|
"The fact is, your Grace," said he, "that my colleague,
|
|
Dr. Watson, and myself had an assurance from Dr. Huxtable
|
|
that a reward had been offered in this case. I should like
|
|
to have this confirmed from your own lips."
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to five thousand pounds
|
|
to anyone who will tell you where your son is?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly."
|
|
|
|
"And another thousand to the man who will name the person
|
|
or persons who keep him in custody?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly."
|
|
|
|
"Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those
|
|
who may have taken him away, but also those who conspire to keep
|
|
him in his present position?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, yes," cried the Duke, impatiently. "If you do your work
|
|
well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you will have no reason to complain
|
|
of niggardly treatment."
|
|
|
|
My friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of
|
|
avidity which was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal tastes.
|
|
|
|
"I fancy that I see your Grace's cheque-book upon the table,"
|
|
said he. "I should be glad if you would make me out a cheque
|
|
for six thousand pounds. It would be as well, perhaps, for you
|
|
to cross it. The Capital and Counties Bank, Oxford Street branch,
|
|
are my agents."
|
|
|
|
His Grace sat very stern and upright in his chair, and looked
|
|
stonily at my friend.
|
|
|
|
"Is this a joke, Mr. Holmes? It is hardly a subject for pleasantry."
|
|
|
|
"Not at all, your Grace. I was never more earnest in my life."
|
|
|
|
"What do you mean, then?"
|
|
|
|
"I mean that I have earned the reward. I know where your son is,
|
|
and I know some, at least, of those who are holding him."
|
|
|
|
The Duke's beard had turned more aggressively red than ever
|
|
against his ghastly white face.
|
|
|
|
"Where is he?" he gasped.
|
|
|
|
"He is, or was last night, at the Fighting Cock Inn, about two
|
|
miles from your park gate."
|
|
|
|
The Duke fell back in his chair.
|
|
|
|
"And whom do you accuse?"
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes's answer was an astounding one. He stepped
|
|
swiftly forward and touched the Duke upon the shoulder.
|
|
|
|
"I accuse YOU," said he. "And now, your Grace, I'll trouble you
|
|
for that cheque."
|
|
|
|
Never shall I forget the Duke's appearance as he sprang up and
|
|
clawed with his hands like one who is sinking into an abyss.
|
|
Then, with an extraordinary effort of aristocratic self-command,
|
|
he sat down and sank his face in his hands. It was some minutes
|
|
before he spoke.
|
|
|
|
"How much do you know?" he asked at last, without raising his head.
|
|
|
|
"I saw you together last night."
|
|
|
|
"Does anyone else besides your friend know?"
|
|
|
|
"I have spoken to no one."
|
|
|
|
The Duke took a pen in his quivering fingers and opened
|
|
his cheque-book.
|
|
|
|
"I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I am about to write
|
|
your cheque, however unwelcome the information which you have
|
|
gained may be to me. When the offer was first made I little
|
|
thought the turn which events might take. But you and your
|
|
friend are men of discretion, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"I hardly understand your Grace."
|
|
|
|
"I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you two know of
|
|
this incident, there is no reason why it should go any farther.
|
|
I think twelve thousand pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not?"
|
|
|
|
But Holmes smiled and shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"I fear, your Grace, that matters can hardly be arranged so easily.
|
|
There is the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for."
|
|
|
|
"But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him
|
|
responsible for that. It was the work of this brutal ruffian
|
|
whom he had the misfortune to employ."
|
|
|
|
"I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks
|
|
upon a crime he is morally guilty of any other crime which
|
|
may spring from it."
|
|
|
|
"Morally, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. But surely not
|
|
in the eyes of the law. A man cannot be condemned for a murder
|
|
at which he was not present, and which he loathes and abhors
|
|
as much as you do. The instant that he heard of it he made
|
|
a complete confession to me, so filled was he with horror and
|
|
remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirely with the
|
|
murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him -- you must save
|
|
him! I tell you that you must save him!" The Duke had dropped
|
|
the last attempt at self-command, and was pacing the room with
|
|
a convulsed face and with his clenched hands raving in the air.
|
|
At last he mastered himself and sat down once more at his desk.
|
|
"I appreciate your conduct in coming here before you spoke to
|
|
anyone else," said he. "At least, we may take counsel how far
|
|
we can minimize this hideous scandal."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly," said Holmes. "I think, your Grace, that this can
|
|
only be done by absolute and complete frankness between us.
|
|
I am disposed to help your Grace to the best of my ability; but
|
|
in order to do so I must understand to the last detail how the
|
|
matter stands. I realize that your words applied to Mr. James
|
|
Wilder, and that he is not the murderer."
|
|
|
|
"No; the murderer has escaped."
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes smiled demurely.
|
|
|
|
"Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which
|
|
I possess, or you would not imagine that it is so easy to escape me.
|
|
Mr. Reuben Hayes was arrested at Chesterfield on my information
|
|
at eleven o'clock last night. I had a telegram from the head
|
|
of the local police before I left the school this morning."
|
|
|
|
The Duke leaned back in his chair and stared with amazement
|
|
at my friend.
|
|
|
|
"You seem to have powers that are hardly human," said he.
|
|
"So Reuben Hayes is taken? I am right glad to hear it,
|
|
if it will not react upon the fate of James."
|
|
|
|
"Your secretary?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; my son."
|
|
|
|
It was Holmes's turn to look astonished.
|
|
|
|
"I confess that this is entirely new to me, your Grace.
|
|
I must beg you to be more explicit."
|
|
|
|
"I will conceal nothing from you. I agree with you that
|
|
complete frankness, however painful it may be to me, is the
|
|
best policy in this desperate situation to which James's folly
|
|
and jealousy have reduced us. When I was a very young man,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a love as comes only once in
|
|
a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refused
|
|
it on the grounds that such a match might mar my career.
|
|
Had she lived I would certainly never have married anyone else.
|
|
She died, and left this one child, whom for her sake I have
|
|
cherished and cared for. I could not acknowledge the paternity
|
|
to the world; but I gave him the best of educations, and since
|
|
he came to manhood I have kept him near my person. He surprised
|
|
my secret, and has presumed ever since upon the claim which he
|
|
has upon me and upon his power of provoking a scandal, which
|
|
would be abhorrent to me. His presence had something to do with
|
|
the unhappy issue of my marriage. Above all, he hated my young
|
|
legitimate heir from the first with a persistent hatred.
|
|
You may well ask me why, under these circumstances, I still kept
|
|
James under my roof. I answer that it was because I could see
|
|
his mother's face in his, and that for her dear sake there was
|
|
no end to my long-suffering. All her pretty ways, too -- there
|
|
was not one of them which he could not suggest and bring back
|
|
to my memory. I COULD not send him away. But I feared so much
|
|
lest he should do Arthur -- that is, Lord Saltire -- a mischief
|
|
that I dispatched him for safety to Dr. Huxtable's school.
|
|
|
|
"James came into contact with this fellow Hayes because the man
|
|
was a tenant of mine, and James acted as agent. The fellow was
|
|
a rascal from the beginning; but in some extraordinary way
|
|
James became intimate with him. He had always a taste for low
|
|
company. When James determined to kidnap Lord Saltire it was
|
|
of this man's service that he availed himself. You remember
|
|
that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day. Well, James opened
|
|
the letter and inserted a note asking Arthur to meet him in a
|
|
little wood called the Ragged Shaw, which is near to the school.
|
|
He used the Duchess's name, and in that way got the boy to come.
|
|
That evening James bicycled over -- I am telling you what he has
|
|
himself confessed to me -- and he told Arthur, whom he met in
|
|
the wood, that his mother longed to see him, that she was
|
|
awaiting him on the moor, and that if he would come back into
|
|
the wood at midnight he would find a man with a horse, who would
|
|
take him to her. Poor Arthur fell into the trap. He came to
|
|
the appointment and found this fellow Hayes with a led pony.
|
|
Arthur mounted, and they set off together. It appears -- though
|
|
this James only heard yesterday -- that they were pursued,
|
|
that Hayes struck the pursuer with his stick, and that the man
|
|
died of his injuries. Hayes brought Arthur to his public-house,
|
|
the Fighting Cock, where he was confined in an upper room,
|
|
under the care of Mrs. Hayes, who is a kindly woman,
|
|
but entirely under the control of her brutal husband.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first
|
|
saw you two days ago. I had no more idea of the truth than you.
|
|
You will ask me what was James's motive in doing such a deed.
|
|
I answer that there was a great deal which was unreasoning and
|
|
fanatical in the hatred which he bore my heir. In his view he
|
|
should himself have been heir of all my estates, and he deeply
|
|
resented those social laws which made it impossible. At the
|
|
same time he had a definite motive also. He was eager that
|
|
I should break the entail, and he was of opinion that it lay
|
|
in my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me --
|
|
to restore Arthur if I would break the entail, and so make it
|
|
possible for the estate to be left to him by will. He knew well
|
|
that I should never willingly invoke the aid of the police
|
|
against him. I say that he would have proposed such a bargain
|
|
to me, but he did not actually do so, for events moved too quickly
|
|
for him, and he had not time to put his plans into practice.
|
|
|
|
"What brought all his wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery
|
|
of this man Heidegger's dead body. James was seized with horror
|
|
at the news. It came to us yesterday as we sat together in
|
|
this study. Dr. Huxtable had sent a telegram. James was so
|
|
overwhelmed with grief and agitation that my suspicions, which
|
|
had never been entirely absent, rose instantly to a certainty,
|
|
and I taxed him with the deed. He made a complete voluntary
|
|
confession. Then he implored me to keep his secret for three
|
|
days longer, so as to give his wretched accomplice a chance of
|
|
saving his guilty life. I yielded -- as I have always yielded
|
|
-- to his prayers, and instantly James hurried off to the
|
|
Fighting Cock to warn Hayes and give him the means of flight.
|
|
I could not go there by daylight without provoking comment,
|
|
but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see my dear Arthur.
|
|
I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expression by the
|
|
dreadful deed he had witnessed. In deference to my promise, and
|
|
much against my will, I consented to leave him there for three
|
|
days under the charge of Mrs. Hayes, since it was evident that
|
|
it was impossible to inform the police where he was without
|
|
telling them also who was the murderer, and I could not see how
|
|
that murderer could be punished without ruin to my unfortunate
|
|
James. You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I have taken
|
|
you at your word, for I have now told you everything without
|
|
an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do you in turn
|
|
be as frank with me."
|
|
|
|
"I will," said Holmes. "In the first place, your Grace,
|
|
I am bound to tell you that you have placed yourself in a most
|
|
serious position in the eyes of the law. You have condoned a
|
|
felony and you have aided the escape of a murderer; for I cannot
|
|
doubt that any money which was taken by James Wilder to aid his
|
|
accomplice in his flight came from your Grace's purse."
|
|
|
|
The Duke bowed his assent.
|
|
|
|
"This is indeed a most serious matter. Even more culpable in my
|
|
opinion, your Grace, is your attitude towards your younger son.
|
|
You leave him in this den for three days."
|
|
|
|
"Under solemn promises ----"
|
|
|
|
"What are promises to such people as these? You have no guarantee
|
|
that he will not be spirited away again. To humour your guilty
|
|
elder son you have exposed your innocent younger son to imminent
|
|
and unnecessary danger. It was a most unjustifiable action."
|
|
|
|
The proud lord of Holdernesse was not accustomed to be so rated
|
|
in his own ducal hall. The blood flushed into his high forehead,
|
|
but his conscience held him dumb.
|
|
|
|
"I will help you, but on one condition only. It is that you
|
|
ring for the footman and let me give such orders as I like."
|
|
|
|
Without a word the Duke pressed the electric bell.
|
|
A servant entered.
|
|
|
|
"You will be glad to hear," said Holmes, "that your young master
|
|
is found. It is the Duke's desire that the carriage shall go at
|
|
once to the Fighting Cock Inn to bring Lord Saltire home.
|
|
|
|
"Now," said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey had disappeared,
|
|
"having secured the future, we can afford to be more lenient
|
|
with the past. I am not in an official position, and there
|
|
is no reason, so long as the ends of justice are served, why I
|
|
should disclose all that I know. As to Hayes I say nothing.
|
|
The gallows awaits him, and I would do nothing to save him from
|
|
it. What he will divulge I cannot tell, but I have no doubt
|
|
that your Grace could make him understand that it is to his
|
|
interest to be silent. From the police point of view he will
|
|
have kidnapped the boy for the purpose of ransom. If they do
|
|
not themselves find it out I see no reason why I should prompt
|
|
them to take a broader point of view. I would warn your Grace,
|
|
however, that the continued presence of Mr. James Wilder in
|
|
your household can only lead to misfortune."
|
|
|
|
"I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that
|
|
he shall leave me for ever and go to seek his fortune in Australia."
|
|
|
|
"In that case, your Grace, since you have yourself stated that
|
|
any unhappiness in your married life was caused by his presence,
|
|
I would suggest that you make such amends as you can to the
|
|
Duchess, and that you try to resume those relations which have
|
|
been so unhappily interrupted."
|
|
|
|
"That also I have arranged, Mr. Holmes. I wrote to the Duchess
|
|
this morning."
|
|
|
|
"In that case," said Holmes, rising, "I think that my friend and
|
|
I can congratulate ourselves upon several most happy results
|
|
from our little visit to the North. There is one other small
|
|
point upon which I desire some light. This fellow Hayes had
|
|
shod his horses with shoes which counterfeited the tracks of cows.
|
|
Was it from Mr. Wilder that he learned so extraordinary a device?"
|
|
|
|
The Duke stood in thought for a moment, with a look of intense
|
|
surprise on his face. Then he opened a door and showed us into
|
|
a large room furnished as a museum. He led the way to a glass
|
|
case in a corner, and pointed to the inscription.
|
|
|
|
"These shoes," it ran, "were dug up in the moat of Holdernesse
|
|
Hall. They are for the use of horses; but they are shaped below
|
|
with a cloven foot of iron, so as to throw pursuers off the
|
|
track. They are supposed to have belonged to some of the
|
|
marauding Barons of Holdernesse in the Middle Ages."
|
|
|
|
Holmes opened the case, and moistening his finger he passed it
|
|
along the shoe. A thin film of recent mud was left upon his skin.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you," said he, as he replaced the glass. "It is the
|
|
second most interesting object that I have seen in the North."
|
|
|
|
"And the first?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes folded up his cheque and placed it carefully in his
|
|
note-book. "I am a poor man," said he, as he patted it
|
|
affectionately and thrust it into the depths of his inner pocket.
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
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THE STRAND MAGAZINE
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Vol. 27 MARCH, 1904
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THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
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VI. --- The Adventure of Black Peter.
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I HAVE never known my friend to be in better form, both mental
|
|
and physical, than in the year '95. His increasing fame had
|
|
brought with it an immense practice, and I should be guilty of
|
|
an indiscretion if I were even to hint at the identity of some
|
|
of the illustrious clients who crossed our humble threshold in
|
|
Baker Street. Holmes, however, like all great artists, lived
|
|
for his art's sake, and, save in the case of the Duke of
|
|
Holdernesse, I have seldom known him claim any large reward
|
|
for his inestimable services. So unworldly was he -- or so
|
|
capricious -- that he frequently refused his help to the
|
|
powerful and wealthy where the problem made no appeal to his
|
|
sympathies, while he would devote weeks of most intense
|
|
application to the affairs of some humble client whose case
|
|
presented those strange and dramatic qualities which appealed
|
|
to his imagination and challenged his ingenuity.
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|
|
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In this memorable year '95 a curious and incongruous succession
|
|
of cases had engaged his attention, ranging from his famous
|
|
investigation of the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca -- an
|
|
inquiry which was carried out by him at the express desire of
|
|
His Holiness the Pope -- down to his arrest of Wilson, the
|
|
notorious canary-trainer, which removed a plague-spot from the
|
|
East-End of London. Close on the heels of these two famous
|
|
cases came the tragedy of Woodman's Lee, and the very obscure
|
|
circumstances which surrounded the death of Captain Peter Carey.
|
|
No record of the doings of Mr. Sherlock Holmes would be complete
|
|
which did not include some account of this very unusual affair.
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|
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|
During the first week of July my friend had been absent so often
|
|
and so long from our lodgings that I knew he had something on
|
|
hand. The fact that several rough-looking men called during
|
|
that time and inquired for Captain Basil made me understand that
|
|
Holmes was working somewhere under one of the numerous disguises
|
|
and names with which he concealed his own formidable identity.
|
|
He had at least five small refuges in different parts of London in
|
|
which he was able to change his personality. He said nothing of
|
|
his business to me, and it was not my habit to force a confidence.
|
|
The first positive sign which he gave me of the direction
|
|
which his investigation was taking was an extraordinary one.
|
|
He had gone out before breakfast, and I had sat down to mine,
|
|
when he strode into the room, his hat upon his head and a huge
|
|
barbed-headed spear tucked like an umbrella under his arm.
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"Good gracious, Holmes!" I cried. "You don't mean to say
|
|
that you have been walking about London with that thing?"
|
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|
|
"I drove to the butcher's and back."
|
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|
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"The butcher's?"
|
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|
|
"And I return with an excellent appetite. There can be no
|
|
question, my dear Watson, of the value of exercise before
|
|
breakfast. But I am prepared to bet that you will not guess
|
|
the form that my exercise has taken."
|
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|
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"I will not attempt it."
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|
|
He chuckled as he poured out the coffee.
|
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|
|
"If you could have looked into Allardyce's back shop you would
|
|
have seen a dead pig swung from a hook in the ceiling, and a
|
|
gentleman in his shirt-sleeves furiously stabbing at it with
|
|
this weapon. I was that energetic person, and I have satisfied
|
|
myself that by no exertion of my strength can I transfix the pig
|
|
with a single blow. Perhaps you would care to try?"
|
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|
|
"Not for worlds. But why were you doing this?"
|
|
|
|
"Because it seemed to me to have an indirect bearing upon the
|
|
mystery of Woodman's Lee. Ah, Hopkins, I got your wire last
|
|
night, and I have been expecting you. Come and join us."
|
|
|
|
Our visitor was an exceedingly alert man, thirty years of age,
|
|
dressed in a quiet tweed suit, but retaining the erect bearing
|
|
of one who was accustomed to official uniform. I recognised him
|
|
at once as Stanley Hopkins, a young police inspector for whose
|
|
future Holmes had high hopes, while he in turn professed the
|
|
admiration and respect of a pupil for the scientific methods of
|
|
the famous amateur. Hopkins's brow was clouded, and he sat down
|
|
with an air of deep dejection.
|
|
|
|
"No, thank you, sir. I breakfasted before I came round.
|
|
I spent the night in town, for I came up yesterday to report."
|
|
|
|
"And what had you to report?"
|
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|
|
"Failure, sir; absolute failure."
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|
|
"You have made no progress?"
|
|
|
|
"None."
|
|
|
|
"Dear me! I must have a look at the matter."
|
|
|
|
"I wish to heavens that you would, Mr. Holmes. It's my first
|
|
big chance, and I am at my wit's end. For goodness' sake come
|
|
down and lend me a hand."
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, it just happens that I have already read all the
|
|
available evidence, including the report of the inquest, with
|
|
some care. By the way, what do you make of that tobacco-pouch
|
|
found on the scene of the crime? Is there no clue there?"
|
|
|
|
Hopkins looked surprised.
|
|
|
|
"It was the man's own pouch, sir. His initials were inside it.
|
|
And it was of seal-skin -- and he an old sealer."
|
|
|
|
"But he had no pipe."
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, we could find no pipe; indeed, he smoked very little.
|
|
And yet he might have kept some tobacco for his friends."
|
|
|
|
"No doubt. I only mention it because if I had been handling the
|
|
case I should have been inclined to make that the starting-point
|
|
of my investigation. However, my friend Dr. Watson knows
|
|
nothing of this matter, and I should be none the worse for
|
|
hearing the sequence of events once more. Just give us some
|
|
short sketch of the essentials."
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket.
|
|
|
|
"I have a few dates here which will give you the career of the
|
|
dead man, Captain Peter Carey. He was born in '45 -- fifty
|
|
years of age. He was a most daring and successful seal and
|
|
whale fisher. In 1883 he commanded the steam sealer SEA UNICORN,
|
|
of Dundee. He had then had several successful voyages
|
|
in succession, and in the following year, 1884, he retired.
|
|
After that he travelled for some years, and finally he bought
|
|
a small place called Woodman's Lee, near Forest Row, in Sussex.
|
|
There he has lived for six years, and there he died just a week
|
|
ago to-day.
|
|
|
|
"There were some most singular points about the man.
|
|
In ordinary life he was a strict Puritan -- a silent, gloomy
|
|
fellow. His household consisted of his wife, his daughter,
|
|
aged twenty, and two female servants. These last were continually
|
|
changing, for it was never a very cheery situation, and sometimes
|
|
it became past all bearing. The man was an intermittent drunkard,
|
|
and when he had the fit on him he was a perfect fiend.
|
|
He has been known to drive his wife and his daughter out of doors
|
|
in the middle of the night, and flog them through the park until
|
|
the whole village outside the gates was aroused by their screams.
|
|
|
|
"He was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar,
|
|
who had called upon him to remonstrate with him upon his
|
|
conduct. In short, Mr. Holmes, you would go far before you
|
|
found a more dangerous man than Peter Carey, and I have heard
|
|
that he bore the same character when he commanded his ship.
|
|
He was known in the trade as Black Peter, and the name was given
|
|
him, not only on account of his swarthy features and the colour
|
|
of his huge beard, but for the humours which were the terror of
|
|
all around him. I need not say that he was loathed and avoided
|
|
by every one of his neighbours, and that I have not heard one
|
|
single word of sorrow about his terrible end.
|
|
|
|
"You must have read in the account of the inquest about the
|
|
man's cabin, Mr. Holmes; but perhaps your friend here has not
|
|
heard of it. He had built himself a wooden outhouse -- he
|
|
always called it `the cabin' -- a few hundred yards from his
|
|
house, and it was here that he slept every night. It was a
|
|
little, single-roomed hut, sixteen feet by ten. He kept the key
|
|
in his pocket, made his own bed, cleaned it himself, and allowed
|
|
no other foot to cross the threshold. There are small windows
|
|
on each side, which were covered by curtains and never opened.
|
|
One of these windows was turned towards the high road, and when
|
|
the light burned in it at night the folk used to point it out
|
|
to each other and wonder what Black Peter was doing in there.
|
|
That's the window, Mr. Holmes, which gave us one of the few bits
|
|
of positive evidence that came out at the inquest.
|
|
|
|
"You remember that a stonemason, named Slater, walking from
|
|
Forest Row about one o'clock in the morning -- two days before
|
|
the murder -- stopped as he passed the grounds and looked at the
|
|
square of light still shining among the trees. He swears that
|
|
the shadow of a man's head turned sideways was clearly visible
|
|
on the blind, and that this shadow was certainly not that of
|
|
Peter Carey, whom he knew well. It was that of a bearded man,
|
|
but the beard was short and bristled forwards in a way very
|
|
different from that of the captain. So he says, but he had
|
|
been two hours in the public-house, and it is some distance from
|
|
the road to the window. Besides, this refers to the Monday,
|
|
and the crime was done upon the Wednesday.
|
|
|
|
"On the Tuesday Peter Carey was in one of his blackest moods,
|
|
flushed with drink and as savage as a dangerous wild beast.
|
|
He roamed about the house, and the women ran for it when they
|
|
heard him coming. Late in the evening he went down to his own hut.
|
|
About two o'clock the following morning his daughter, who slept
|
|
with her window open, heard a most fearful yell from that
|
|
direction, but it was no unusual thing for him to bawl and shout
|
|
when he was in drink, so no notice was taken. On rising at
|
|
seven one of the maids noticed that the door of the hut was open,
|
|
but so great was the terror which the man caused that it
|
|
was midday before anyone would venture down to see what had
|
|
become of him. Peeping into the open door they saw a sight
|
|
which sent them flying with white faces into the village.
|
|
Within an hour I was on the spot and had taken over the case.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I have fairly steady nerves, as you know, Mr. Holmes,
|
|
but I give you my word that I got a shake when I put my head into
|
|
that little house. It was droning like a harmonium with the
|
|
flies and bluebottles, and the floor and walls were like a
|
|
slaughter-house. He had called it a cabin, and a cabin it was
|
|
sure enough, for you would have thought that you were in a ship.
|
|
There was a bunk at one end, a sea-chest, maps and charts,
|
|
a picture of the SEA UNICORN, a line of log-books on a shelf,
|
|
all exactly as one would expect to find it in a captain's room.
|
|
And there in the middle of it was the man himself, his face twisted
|
|
like a lost soul in torment, and his great brindled beard stuck
|
|
upwards in his agony. Right through his broad breast a steel
|
|
harpoon had been driven, and it had sunk deep into the wood of
|
|
the wall behind him. He was pinned like a beetle on a card.
|
|
Of course, he was quite dead, and had been so from the instant
|
|
that he had uttered that last yell of agony.
|
|
|
|
"I know your methods, sir, and I applied them.
|
|
Before I permitted anything to be moved I examined most
|
|
carefully the ground outside, and also the floor of the room.
|
|
There were no footmarks."
|
|
|
|
"Meaning that you saw none?"
|
|
|
|
"I assure you, sir, that there were none."
|
|
|
|
"My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have
|
|
never yet seen one which was committed by a flying creature.
|
|
As long as the criminal remains upon two legs so long must there
|
|
be some indentation, some abrasion, some trifling displacement
|
|
which can be detected by the scientific searcher. It is
|
|
incredible that this blood-bespattered room contained no trace
|
|
which could have aided us. I understand, however, from the
|
|
inquest that there were some objects which you failed to overlook?"
|
|
|
|
The young inspector winced at my companion's ironical comments.
|
|
|
|
"I was a fool not to call you in at the time, Mr. Holmes.
|
|
However, that's past praying for now. Yes, there were several
|
|
objects in the room which called for special attention.
|
|
One was the harpoon with which the deed was committed.
|
|
It had been snatched down from a rack on the wall.
|
|
Two others remained there, and there was a vacant place for
|
|
the third. On the stock was engraved `Ss. SEA UNICORN, Dundee.'
|
|
This seemed to establish that the crime had been done in a moment
|
|
of fury, and that the murderer had seized the first weapon which
|
|
came in his way. The fact that the crime was committed at two
|
|
in the morning, and yet Peter Carey was fully dressed, suggested
|
|
that he had an appointment with the murderer, which is borne out
|
|
by the fact that a bottle of rum and two dirty glasses stood upon
|
|
the table."
|
|
|
|
"Yes," said Holmes; "I think that both inferences are permissible.
|
|
Was there any other spirit but rum in the room?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; there was a tantalus containing brandy and whisky on the
|
|
sea-chest. It is of no importance to us, however, since the
|
|
decanters were full, and it had therefore not been used."
|
|
|
|
"For all that its presence has some significance," said Holmes.
|
|
"However, let us hear some more about the objects which do seem
|
|
to you to bear upon the case."
|
|
|
|
"There was this tobacco-pouch upon the table."
|
|
|
|
"What part of the table?"
|
|
|
|
"It lay in the middle. It was of coarse seal-skin --
|
|
the straight-haired skin, with a leather thong to bind it.
|
|
Inside was `P.C.' on the flap. There was half an ounce of
|
|
strong ship's tobacco in it."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent! What more?"
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab-covered note-book.
|
|
The outside was rough and worn, the leaves discoloured.
|
|
On the first page were written the initials "J.H.N." and the
|
|
date "1883." Holmes laid it on the table and examined it in
|
|
his minute way, while Hopkins and I gazed over each shoulder.
|
|
On the second page were the printed letters "C.P.R.," and then
|
|
came several sheets of numbers. Another heading was Argentine,
|
|
another Costa Rica, and another San Paulo, each with pages of
|
|
signs and figures after it.
|
|
|
|
"What do you make of these?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"They appear to be lists of Stock Exchange securities.
|
|
I thought that `J.H.N.' were the initials of a broker,
|
|
and that `C.P.R.' may have been his client."
|
|
|
|
"Try Canadian Pacific Railway," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth and struck his thigh
|
|
with his clenched hand.
|
|
|
|
"What a fool I have been!" he cried. "Of course, it is as
|
|
you say. Then `J.H.N.' are the only initials we have to solve.
|
|
I have already examined the old Stock Exchange lists, and I can
|
|
find no one in 1883 either in the House or among the outside
|
|
brokers whose initials correspond with these. Yet I feel that
|
|
the clue is the most important one that I hold. You will admit,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, that there is a possibility that these initials are
|
|
those of the second person who was present -- in other words,
|
|
of the murderer. I would also urge that the introduction into
|
|
the case of a document relating to large masses of valuable
|
|
securities gives us for the first time some indication of a
|
|
motive for the crime."
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes's face showed that he was thoroughly taken aback
|
|
by this new development.
|
|
|
|
"I must admit both your points," said he. "I confess that this
|
|
note-book, which did not appear at the inquest, modifies any
|
|
views which I may have formed. I had come to a theory of the
|
|
crime in which I can find no place for this. Have you
|
|
endeavoured to trace any of the securities here mentioned?"
|
|
|
|
"Inquiries are now being made at the offices, but I fear that
|
|
the complete register of the stockholders of these South
|
|
American concerns is in South America, and that some weeks must
|
|
elapse before we can trace the shares."
|
|
|
|
Holmes had been examining the cover of the note-book with his
|
|
magnifying lens.
|
|
|
|
"Surely there is some discolouration here," said he.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, it is a blood-stain. I told you that I picked
|
|
the book off the floor."
|
|
|
|
"Was the blood-stain above or below?"
|
|
|
|
"On the side next the boards."
|
|
|
|
"Which proves, of course, that the book was dropped after
|
|
the crime was committed."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly, Mr. Holmes. I appreciated that point,
|
|
and I conjectured that it was dropped by the murderer
|
|
in his hurried flight. It lay near the door."
|
|
|
|
"I suppose that none of these securities have been found among
|
|
the property of the dead man?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Have you any reason to suspect robbery?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir. Nothing seemed to have been touched."
|
|
|
|
"Dear me, it is certainly a very interesting case.
|
|
Then there was a knife, was there not?"
|
|
|
|
"A sheath-knife, still in its sheath. It lay at the feet
|
|
of the dead man. Mrs. Carey has identified it as being her
|
|
husband's property."
|
|
|
|
Holmes was lost in thought for some time.
|
|
|
|
"Well," said he, at last, "I suppose I shall have to come out
|
|
and have a look at it."
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins gave a cry of joy.
|
|
|
|
"Thank you, sir. That will indeed be a weight off my mind."
|
|
|
|
Holmes shook his finger at the inspector.
|
|
|
|
"It would have been an easier task a week ago," said he.
|
|
"But even now my visit may not be entirely fruitless. Watson,
|
|
if you can spare the time I should be very glad of your company.
|
|
If you will call a four-wheeler, Hopkins, we shall be ready to
|
|
start for Forest Row in a quarter of an hour."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Alighting at the small wayside station, we drove for some miles
|
|
through the remains of widespread woods, which were once part of
|
|
that great forest which for so long held the Saxon invaders at
|
|
bay -- the impenetrable "weald," for sixty years the bulwark of
|
|
Britain. Vast sections of it have been cleared, for this is the
|
|
seat of the first iron-works of the country, and the trees have
|
|
been felled to smelt the ore. Now the richer fields of the
|
|
North have absorbed the trade, and nothing save these ravaged
|
|
groves and great scars in the earth show the work of the past.
|
|
Here in a clearing upon the green slope of a hill stood a long,
|
|
low stone house, approached by a curving drive running through
|
|
the fields. Nearer the road, and surrounded on three sides
|
|
by bushes, was a small outhouse, one window and the door facing
|
|
in our direction. It was the scene of the murder!
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins led us first to the house, where he introduced
|
|
us to a haggard, grey-haired woman, the widow of the murdered
|
|
man, whose gaunt and deep-lined face, with the furtive look of
|
|
terror in the depths of her red-rimmed eyes, told of the years
|
|
of hardship and ill-usage which she had endured. With her was
|
|
her daughter, a pale, fair-haired girl, whose eyes blazed
|
|
defiantly at us as she told us that she was glad that her father
|
|
was dead, and that she blessed the hand which had struck him
|
|
down. It was a terrible household that Black Peter Carey had
|
|
made for himself, and it was with a sense of relief that we
|
|
found ourselves in the sunlight again and making our way along
|
|
a path which had been worn across the fields by the feet of
|
|
the dead man.
|
|
|
|
The outhouse was the simplest of dwellings, wooden-walled,
|
|
shingle-roofed, one window beside the door and one on the
|
|
farther side. Stanley Hopkins drew the key from his pocket,
|
|
and had stooped to the lock, when he paused with a look of
|
|
attention and surprise upon his face.
|
|
|
|
"Someone has been tampering with it," he said.
|
|
|
|
There could be no doubt of the fact. The woodwork was cut and
|
|
the scratches showed white through the paint, as if they had
|
|
been that instant done. Holmes had been examining the window.
|
|
|
|
"Someone has tried to force this also. Whoever it was has failed
|
|
to make his way in. He must have been a very poor burglar."
|
|
|
|
"This is a most extraordinary thing," said the inspector;
|
|
"I could swear that these marks were not here yesterday evening."
|
|
|
|
"Some curious person from the village, perhaps," I suggested.
|
|
|
|
"Very unlikely. Few of them would dare to set foot in the
|
|
grounds, far less try to force their way into the cabin.
|
|
What do you think of it, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"I think that fortune is very kind to us."
|
|
|
|
"You mean that the person will come again?"
|
|
|
|
"It is very probable. He came expecting to find the door open.
|
|
He tried to get in with the blade of a very small penknife.
|
|
He could not manage it. What would he do?"
|
|
|
|
"Come again next night with a more useful tool."
|
|
|
|
"So I should say. It will be our fault if we are not there
|
|
to receive him. Meanwhile, let me see the inside of the cabin."
|
|
|
|
The traces of the tragedy had been removed, but the furniture
|
|
within the little room still stood as it had been on the night
|
|
of the crime. For two hours, with most intense concentration,
|
|
Holmes examined every object in turn, but his face showed that
|
|
his quest was not a successful one. Once only he paused in his
|
|
patient investigation.
|
|
|
|
"Have you taken anything off this shelf, Hopkins?"
|
|
|
|
"No; I have moved nothing."
|
|
|
|
"Something has been taken. There is less dust in this corner of
|
|
the shelf than elsewhere. It may have been a book lying on its
|
|
side. It may have been a box. Well, well, I can do nothing
|
|
more. Let us walk in these beautiful woods, Watson, and give a
|
|
few hours to the birds and the flowers. We shall meet you here
|
|
later, Hopkins, and see if we can come to closer quarters with
|
|
the gentleman who has paid this visit in the night."
|
|
|
|
It was past eleven o'clock when we formed our little ambuscade.
|
|
Hopkins was for leaving the door of the hut open, but Holmes
|
|
was of the opinion that this would rouse the suspicions of the
|
|
stranger. The lock was a perfectly simple one, and only a
|
|
strong blade was needed to push it back. Holmes also suggested
|
|
that we should wait, not inside the hut, but outside it among
|
|
the bushes which grew round the farther window. In this way we
|
|
should be able to watch our man if he struck a light, and see
|
|
what his object was in this stealthy nocturnal visit.
|
|
|
|
It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it
|
|
something of the thrill which the hunter feels when he lies
|
|
beside the water pool and waits for the coming of the thirsty
|
|
beast of prey. What savage creature was it which might steal
|
|
upon us out of the darkness? Was it a fierce tiger of crime,
|
|
which could only be taken fighting hard with flashing fang and
|
|
claw, or would it prove to be some skulking jackal, dangerous
|
|
only to the weak and unguarded?
|
|
|
|
In absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes, waiting
|
|
for whatever might come. At first the steps of a few belated
|
|
villagers, or the sound of voices from the village, lightened
|
|
our vigil; but one by one these interruptions died away and an
|
|
absolute stillness fell upon us, save for the chimes of the
|
|
distant church, which told us of the progress of the night,
|
|
and for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain falling amid the
|
|
foliage which roofed us in.
|
|
|
|
Half-past two had chimed, and it was the darkest hour which
|
|
precedes the dawn, when we all started as a low but sharp click
|
|
came from the direction of the gate. Someone had entered the
|
|
drive. Again there was a long silence, and I had begun to fear
|
|
that it was a false alarm, when a stealthy step was heard upon
|
|
the other side of the hut, and a moment later a metallic
|
|
scraping and clinking. The man was trying to force the lock!
|
|
This time his skill was greater or his tool was better,
|
|
for there was a sudden snap and the creak of the hinges.
|
|
Then a match was struck, and next instant the steady light from
|
|
a candle filled the interior of the hut. Through the gauze
|
|
curtain our eyes were all riveted upon the scene within.
|
|
|
|
The nocturnal visitor was a young man, frail and thin, with a
|
|
black moustache which intensified the deadly pallor of his face.
|
|
He could not have been much above twenty years of age. I have
|
|
never seen any human being who appeared to be in such a pitiable
|
|
fright, for his teeth were visibly chattering and he was shaking
|
|
in every limb. He was dressed like a gentleman, in Norfolk
|
|
jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon his head.
|
|
We watched him staring round with frightened eyes. Then he laid
|
|
the candle-end upon the table and disappeared from our view into
|
|
one of the corners. He returned with a large book, one of the
|
|
log-books which formed a line upon the shelves. Leaning on the
|
|
table he rapidly turned over the leaves of this volume until he
|
|
came to the entry which he sought. Then, with an angry gesture
|
|
of his clenched hand, he closed the book, replaced it in the
|
|
corner, and put out the light. He had hardly turned to leave
|
|
the hut when Hopkins's hand was on the fellow's collar, and I
|
|
heard his loud gasp of terror as he understood that he was
|
|
taken. The candle was re-lit, and there was our wretched
|
|
captive shivering and cowering in the grasp of the detective.
|
|
He sank down upon the sea-chest, and looked helplessly from one
|
|
of us to the other.
|
|
|
|
"Now, my fine fellow," said Stanley Hopkins, "who are you,
|
|
and what do you want here?"
|
|
|
|
The man pulled himself together and faced us with an effort
|
|
at self-composure.
|
|
|
|
"You are detectives, I suppose?" said he. "You imagine I am
|
|
connected with the death of Captain Peter Carey. I assure you
|
|
that I am innocent."
|
|
|
|
"We'll see about that," said Hopkins.
|
|
"First of all, what is your name?"
|
|
|
|
"It is John Hopley Neligan."
|
|
|
|
I saw Holmes and Hopkins exchange a quick glance.
|
|
|
|
"What are you doing here?"
|
|
|
|
"Can I speak confidentially?"
|
|
|
|
"No, certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"Why should I tell you?"
|
|
|
|
"If you have no answer it may go badly with you at the trial."
|
|
|
|
The young man winced.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I will tell you," he said. "Why should I not? And yet
|
|
I hate to think of this old scandal gaining a new lease of life.
|
|
Did you ever hear of Dawson and Neligan?"
|
|
|
|
I could see from Hopkins's face that he never had; but Holmes
|
|
was keenly interested.
|
|
|
|
"You mean the West-country bankers," said he. "They failed
|
|
for a million, ruined half the county families of Cornwall,
|
|
and Neligan disappeared."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. Neligan was my father."
|
|
|
|
At last we were getting something positive, and yet it seemed
|
|
a long gap between an absconding banker and Captain Peter Carey
|
|
pinned against the wall with one of his own harpoons. We all
|
|
listened intently to the young man's words.
|
|
|
|
"It was my father who was really concerned. Dawson had retired.
|
|
I was only ten years of age at the time, but I was old enough to
|
|
feel the shame and horror of it all. It has always been said
|
|
that my father stole all the securities and fled. It is not
|
|
true. It was his belief that if he were given time in which to
|
|
realize them all would be well and every creditor paid in full.
|
|
He started in his little yacht for Norway just before the
|
|
warrant was issued for his arrest. I can remember that last
|
|
night when he bade farewell to my mother. He left us a list of
|
|
the securities he was taking, and he swore that he would come
|
|
back with his honour cleared, and that none who had trusted him
|
|
would suffer. Well, no word was ever heard from him again.
|
|
Both the yacht and he vanished utterly. We believed, my mother
|
|
and I, that he and it, with the securities that he had taken
|
|
with him, were at the bottom of the sea. We had a faithful
|
|
friend, however, who is a business man, and it was he who
|
|
discovered some time ago that some of the securities which my
|
|
father had with him have reappeared on the London market.
|
|
You can imagine our amazement. I spent months in trying to
|
|
trace them, and at last, after many doublings and difficulties,
|
|
I discovered that the original seller had been Captain Peter
|
|
Carey, the owner of this hut.
|
|
|
|
"Naturally, I made some inquiries about the man. I found that
|
|
he had been in command of a whaler which was due to return from
|
|
the Arctic seas at the very time when my father was crossing to
|
|
Norway. The autumn of that year was a stormy one, and there was
|
|
a long succession of southerly gales. My father's yacht may
|
|
well have been blown to the north, and there met by Captain
|
|
Peter Carey's ship. If that were so, what had become of my
|
|
father? In any case, if I could prove from Peter Carey's
|
|
evidence how these securities came on the market it would be a
|
|
proof that my father had not sold them, and that he had no view
|
|
to personal profit when he took them.
|
|
|
|
"I came down to Sussex with the intention of seeing the captain,
|
|
but it was at this moment that his terrible death occurred.
|
|
I read at the inquest a description of his cabin, in which it
|
|
stated that the old log-books of his vessel were preserved in it.
|
|
It struck me that if I could see what occurred in the month
|
|
of August, 1883, on board the SEA UNICORN, I might settle the
|
|
mystery of my father's fate. I tried last night to get at these
|
|
log-books, but was unable to open the door. To-night I tried
|
|
again, and succeeded; but I find that the pages which deal with
|
|
that month have been torn from the book. It was at that moment
|
|
I found myself a prisoner in your hands."
|
|
|
|
"Is that all?" asked Hopkins.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, that is all." His eyes shifted as he said it.
|
|
|
|
"You have nothing else to tell us?"
|
|
|
|
He hesitated.
|
|
|
|
"No; there is nothing."
|
|
|
|
"You have not been here before last night?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"Then how do you account for THAT?" cried Hopkins, as he held up
|
|
the damning note-book, with the initials of our prisoner on the
|
|
first leaf and the blood-stain on the cover.
|
|
|
|
The wretched man collapsed. He sank his face in his hands and
|
|
trembled all over.
|
|
|
|
"Where did you get it?" he groaned. "I did not know.
|
|
I thought I had lost it at the hotel."
|
|
|
|
"That is enough," said Hopkins, sternly. "Whatever else you
|
|
have to say you must say in court. You will walk down with me
|
|
now to the police-station. Well, Mr. Holmes, I am very much
|
|
obliged to you and to your friend for coming down to help me.
|
|
As it turns out your presence was unnecessary, and I would have
|
|
brought the case to this successful issue without you; but none
|
|
the less I am very grateful. Rooms have been reserved for you
|
|
at the Brambletye Hotel, so we can all walk down to the village
|
|
together."
|
|
|
|
"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" asked Holmes,
|
|
as we travelled back next morning.
|
|
|
|
"I can see that you are not satisfied."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, yes, my dear Watson, I am perfectly satisfied. At the same
|
|
time Stanley Hopkins's methods do not commend themselves to me.
|
|
I am disappointed in Stanley Hopkins. I had hoped for better
|
|
things from him. One should always look for a possible
|
|
alternative and provide against it. It is the first rule of
|
|
criminal investigation."
|
|
|
|
"What, then, is the alternative?"
|
|
|
|
"The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing.
|
|
It may give us nothing. I cannot tell. But at least I shall
|
|
follow it to the end."
|
|
|
|
Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street.
|
|
He snatched one of them up, opened it, and burst out into
|
|
a triumphant chuckle of laughter.
|
|
|
|
"Excellent, Watson. The alternative develops. Have you
|
|
telegraph forms? Just write a couple of messages for me:
|
|
`Sumner, Shipping Agent, Ratcliff Highway. Send three men on,
|
|
to arrive ten to-morrow morning. -- Basil.' That's my name in
|
|
those parts. The other is: `Inspector Stanley Hopkins, 46,
|
|
Lord Street, Brixton. Come breakfast to-morrow at nine-thirty.
|
|
Important. Wire if unable to come. -- Sherlock Holmes.'
|
|
There, Watson, this infernal case has haunted me for ten days.
|
|
I hereby banish it completely from my presence. To-morrow
|
|
I trust that we shall hear the last of it for ever."
|
|
|
|
Sharp at the hour named Inspector Stanley Hopkins appeared,
|
|
and we sat down together to the excellent breakfast which
|
|
Mrs. Hudson had prepared. The young detective was in high
|
|
spirits at his success.
|
|
|
|
"You really think that your solution must be correct?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"I could not imagine a more complete case."
|
|
|
|
"It did not seem to me conclusive."
|
|
|
|
"You astonish me, Mr. Holmes. What more could one ask for?"
|
|
|
|
"Does your explanation cover every point?"
|
|
|
|
"Undoubtedly. I find that young Neligan arrived at the
|
|
Brambletye Hotel on the very day of the crime. He came on
|
|
the pretence of playing golf. His room was on the ground-floor,
|
|
and he could get out when he liked. That very night he went down
|
|
to Woodman's Lee, saw Peter Carey at the hut, quarrelled with him,
|
|
and killed him with the harpoon. Then, horrified by what he had
|
|
done, he fled out of the hut, dropping the note-book which he
|
|
had brought with him in order to question Peter Carey about
|
|
these different securities. You may have observed that some of
|
|
them were marked with ticks, and the others -- the great
|
|
majority -- were not. Those which are ticked have been traced
|
|
on the London market; but the others presumably were still in
|
|
the possession of Carey, and young Neligan, according to his own
|
|
account, was anxious to recover them in order to do the right
|
|
thing by his father's creditors. After his flight he did not
|
|
dare to approach the hut again for some time; but at last he
|
|
forced himself to do so in order to obtain the information
|
|
which he needed. Surely that is all simple and obvious?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes smiled and shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"It seems to me to have only one drawback, Hopkins, and that
|
|
is that it is intrinsically impossible. Have you tried to drive
|
|
a harpoon through a body? No? Tut, tut, my dear sir, you must
|
|
really pay attention to these details. My friend Watson could
|
|
tell you that I spent a whole morning in that exercise.
|
|
It is no easy matter, and requires a strong and practised arm.
|
|
But this blow was delivered with such violence that the head of
|
|
the weapon sank deep into the wall. Do you imagine that this
|
|
anaemic youth was capable of so frightful an assault? Is he the
|
|
man who hobnobbed in rum and water with Black Peter in the dead
|
|
of the night? Was it his profile that was seen on the blind two
|
|
nights before? No, no, Hopkins; it is another and a more
|
|
formidable person for whom we must seek."
|
|
|
|
The detective's face had grown longer and longer during Holmes's
|
|
speech. His hopes and his ambitions were all crumbling about him.
|
|
But he would not abandon his position without a struggle.
|
|
|
|
"You can't deny that Neligan was present that night, Mr. Holmes.
|
|
The book will prove that. I fancy that I have evidence enough
|
|
to satisfy a jury, even if you are able to pick a hole in it.
|
|
Besides, Mr. Holmes, I have laid my hand upon MY man. As to
|
|
this terrible person of yours, where is he?"
|
|
|
|
"I rather fancy that he is on the stair," said Holmes, serenely.
|
|
"I think, Watson, that you would do well to put that revolver
|
|
where you can reach it." He rose, and laid a written paper
|
|
upon a side-table. "Now we are ready," said he.
|
|
|
|
There had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and now
|
|
Mrs. Hudson opened the door to say that there were three men
|
|
inquiring for Captain Basil.
|
|
|
|
"Show them in one by one," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
The first who entered was a little ribston-pippin of a man,
|
|
with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers. Holmes had
|
|
drawn a letter from his pocket.
|
|
|
|
"What name?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"James Lancaster."
|
|
|
|
"I am sorry, Lancaster, but the berth is full. Here is half a
|
|
sovereign for your trouble. Just step into this room and wait
|
|
there for a few minutes."
|
|
|
|
The second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank hair and
|
|
sallow cheeks. His name was Hugh Pattins. He also received his
|
|
dismissal, his half-sovereign, and the order to wait.
|
|
|
|
The third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance.
|
|
A fierce bull-dog face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard,
|
|
and two bold dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of thick, tufted,
|
|
overhung eyebrows. He saluted and stood sailor-fashion, turning
|
|
his cap round in his hands.
|
|
|
|
"Your name?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Patrick Cairns."
|
|
|
|
"Harpooner?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. Twenty-six voyages."
|
|
|
|
"Dundee, I suppose?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"And ready to start with an exploring ship?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"What wages?"
|
|
|
|
"Eight pounds a month."
|
|
|
|
"Could you start at once?"
|
|
|
|
"As soon as I get my kit."
|
|
|
|
"Have you your papers?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir." He took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from
|
|
his pocket. Holmes glanced over them and returned them.
|
|
|
|
"You are just the man I want," said he. "Here's the agreement
|
|
on the side-table. If you sign it the whole matter will be settled."
|
|
|
|
The seaman lurched across the room and took up the pen.
|
|
|
|
"Shall I sign here?" he asked, stooping over the table.
|
|
|
|
Holmes leaned over his shoulder and passed both hands over his neck.
|
|
|
|
"This will do," said he.
|
|
|
|
I heard a click of steel and a bellow like an enraged bull.
|
|
The next instant Holmes and the seaman were rolling on the
|
|
ground together. He was a man of such gigantic strength that,
|
|
even with the handcuffs which Holmes had so deftly fastened upon
|
|
his wrists, he would have very quickly overpowered my friend had
|
|
Hopkins and I not rushed to his rescue. Only when I pressed the
|
|
cold muzzle of the revolver to his temple did he at last
|
|
understand that resistance was vain. We lashed his ankles with
|
|
cord and rose breathless from the struggle.
|
|
|
|
"I must really apologize, Hopkins," said Sherlock Holmes;
|
|
"I fear that the scrambled eggs are cold. However, you will
|
|
enjoy the rest of your breakfast all the better, will you not,
|
|
for the thought that you have brought your case to a triumphant
|
|
conclusion."
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins was speechless with amazement.
|
|
|
|
"I don't know what to say, Mr. Holmes," he blurted out at last,
|
|
with a very red face. "It seems to me that I have been making
|
|
a fool of myself from the beginning. I understand now, what I
|
|
should never have forgotten, that I am the pupil and you are the
|
|
master. Even now I see what you have done, but I don't know how
|
|
you did it, or what it signifies."
|
|
|
|
"Well, well," said Holmes, good-humouredly. "We all learn by
|
|
experience, and your lesson this time is that you should never
|
|
lose sight of the alternative. You were so absorbed in young
|
|
Neligan that you could not spare a thought to Patrick Cairns,
|
|
the true murderer of Peter Carey."
|
|
|
|
The hoarse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation.
|
|
|
|
"See here, mister," said he, "I make no complaint of
|
|
being man-handled in this fashion, but I would have you call
|
|
things by their right names. You say I murdered Peter Carey;
|
|
I say I KILLED Peter Carey, and there's all the difference.
|
|
Maybe you don't believe what I say. Maybe you think I am just
|
|
slinging you a yarn."
|
|
|
|
"Not at all," said Holmes. "Let us hear what you have to say."
|
|
|
|
"It's soon told, and, by the Lord, every word of it is truth.
|
|
I knew Black Peter, and when he pulled out his knife I whipped
|
|
a harpoon through him sharp, for I knew that it was him or me.
|
|
That's how he died. You can call it murder. Anyhow, I'd as
|
|
soon die with a rope round my neck as with Black Peter's knife
|
|
in my heart."
|
|
|
|
"How came you there?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"I'll tell it you from the beginning. Just sit me up a little
|
|
so as I can speak easy. It was in '83 that it happened --
|
|
August of that year. Peter Carey was master of the SEA UNICORN,
|
|
and I was spare harpooner. We were coming out of the ice-pack
|
|
on our way home, with head winds and a week's southerly gale,
|
|
when we picked up a little craft that had been blown north.
|
|
There was one man on her -- a landsman. The crew had thought
|
|
she would founder, and had made for the Norwegian coast in the
|
|
dinghy. I guess they were all drowned. Well, we took him on
|
|
board, this man, and he and the skipper had some long talks in
|
|
the cabin. All the baggage we took off with him was one tin box.
|
|
So far as I know, the man's name was never mentioned, and on the
|
|
second night he disappeared as if he had never been. It was
|
|
given out that he had either thrown himself overboard or fallen
|
|
overboard in the heavy weather that we were having. Only one
|
|
man knew what had happened to him, and that was me, for with my
|
|
own eyes I saw the skipper tip up his heels and put him over the
|
|
rail in the middle watch of a dark night, two days before we
|
|
sighted the Shetland lights.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I kept my knowledge to
|
|
myself and waited to see what would come of it. When we got
|
|
back to Scotland it was easily hushed up, and nobody asked any
|
|
questions. A stranger died by an accident, and it was nobody's
|
|
business to inquire. Shortly after Peter Carey gave up the sea,
|
|
and it was long years before I could find where he was.
|
|
I guessed that he had done the deed for the sake of what was in
|
|
that tin box, and that he could afford now to pay me well for
|
|
keeping my mouth shut.
|
|
|
|
"I found out where he was through a sailor man that had met him
|
|
in London, and down I went to squeeze him. The first night he
|
|
was reasonable enough, and was ready to give me what would make
|
|
me free of the sea for life. We were to fix it all two nights
|
|
later. When I came I found him three parts drunk and in a vile
|
|
temper. We sat down and we drank and we yarned about old times,
|
|
but the more he drank the less I liked the look on his face.
|
|
I spotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I might
|
|
need it before I was through. Then at last he broke out at me,
|
|
spitting and cursing, with murder in his eyes and a great
|
|
clasp-knife in his hand. He had not time to get it from the
|
|
sheath before I had the harpoon through him. Heavens! what
|
|
a yell he gave; and his face gets between me and my sleep!
|
|
I stood there, with his blood splashing round me, and I waited
|
|
for a bit; but all was quiet, so I took heart once more.
|
|
I looked round, and there was the tin box on a shelf. I had as
|
|
much right to it as Peter Carey, anyhow, so I took it with me and
|
|
left the hut. Like a fool I left my baccy-pouch upon the table.
|
|
|
|
"Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story.
|
|
I had hardly got outside the hut when I heard someone coming,
|
|
and I hid among the bushes. A man came slinking along,
|
|
went into the hut, gave a cry as if he had seen a ghost,
|
|
and legged it as hard as he could run until he was out of sight.
|
|
Who he was or what he wanted is more than I can tell.
|
|
For my part I walked ten miles, got a train at Tunbridge Wells,
|
|
and so reached London, and no one the wiser.
|
|
|
|
"Well, when I came to examine the box I found there was no money
|
|
in it, and nothing but papers that I would not dare to sell.
|
|
I had lost my hold on Black Peter, and was stranded in London
|
|
without a shilling. There was only my trade left. I saw these
|
|
advertisements about harpooners and high wages, so I went to
|
|
the shipping agents, and they sent me here. That's all I know,
|
|
and I say again that if I killed Black Peter the law should give
|
|
me thanks, for I saved them the price of a hempen rope."
|
|
|
|
"A very clear statement," said Holmes, rising and lighting
|
|
his pipe. "I think, Hopkins, that you should lose no time
|
|
in conveying your prisoner to a place of safety. This room
|
|
is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr. Patrick Cairns occupies
|
|
too large a proportion of our carpet."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes," said Hopkins, "I do not know how to express
|
|
my gratitude. Even now I do not understand how you attained
|
|
this result."
|
|
|
|
"Simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from
|
|
the beginning. It is very possible if I had known about this
|
|
note-book it might have led away my thoughts, as it did yours.
|
|
But all I heard pointed in the one direction. The amazing
|
|
strength, the skill in the use of the harpoon, the rum and
|
|
water, the seal-skin tobacco-pouch, with the coarse tobacco --
|
|
all these pointed to a seaman, and one who had been a whaler.
|
|
I was convinced that the initials `P.C.' upon the pouch were
|
|
a coincidence, and not those of Peter Carey, since he seldom
|
|
smoked, and no pipe was found in his cabin. You remember that
|
|
I asked whether whisky and brandy were in the cabin. You said
|
|
they were. How many landsmen are there who would drink rum when
|
|
they could get these other spirits? Yes, I was certain it was
|
|
a seaman."
|
|
|
|
"And how did you find him?"
|
|
|
|
"My dear sir, the problem had become a very simple one. If it
|
|
were a seaman, it could only be a seaman who had been with him
|
|
on the SEA UNICORN. So far as I could learn he had sailed in no
|
|
other ship. I spent three days in wiring to Dundee, and at the
|
|
end of that time I had ascertained the names of the crew of the
|
|
SEA UNICORN in 1883. When I found Patrick Cairns among the
|
|
harpooners my research was nearing its end. I argued that the
|
|
man was probably in London, and that he would desire to leave
|
|
the country for a time. I therefore spent some days in the
|
|
East-end, devised an Arctic expedition, put forth tempting terms
|
|
for harpooners who would serve under Captain Basil -- and behold
|
|
the result!"
|
|
|
|
"Wonderful!" cried Hopkins. "Wonderful!"
|
|
|
|
"You must obtain the release of young Neligan as soon as possible,"
|
|
said Holmes. "I confess that I think you owe him some apology.
|
|
The tin box must be returned to him, but, of course, the securities
|
|
which Peter Carey has sold are lost for ever. There's the cab,
|
|
Hopkins, and you can remove your man. If you want me for the trial,
|
|
my address and that of Watson will be somewhere in Norway --
|
|
I'll send particulars later."
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 27 APRIL, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
VII. --- The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.
|
|
|
|
|
|
IT is years since the incidents of which I speak took place,
|
|
and yet it is with diffidence that I allude to them. For a long
|
|
time, even with the utmost discretion and reticence, it would
|
|
have been impossible to make the facts public; but now the
|
|
principal person concerned is beyond the reach of human law,
|
|
and with due suppression the story may be told in such fashion
|
|
as to injure no one. It records an absolutely unique experience
|
|
in the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. The
|
|
reader will excuse me if I conceal the date or any other fact
|
|
by which he might trace the actual occurrence.
|
|
|
|
We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I,
|
|
and had returned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter's
|
|
evening. As Holmes turned up the lamp the light fell upon
|
|
a card on the table. He glanced at it, and then, with an
|
|
ejaculation of disgust, threw it on the floor.
|
|
I picked it up and read:--
|
|
|
|
CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON,
|
|
APPLEDORE TOWERS,
|
|
AGENT. HAMPSTEAD.
|
|
|
|
"Who is he?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"The worst man in London," Holmes answered, as he sat down and
|
|
stretched his legs before the fire. "Is anything on the back
|
|
of the card?"
|
|
|
|
I turned it over.
|
|
|
|
"Will call at 6.30 -- C.A.M.," I read.
|
|
|
|
"Hum! He's about due. Do you feel a creeping, shrinking
|
|
sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents in the
|
|
Zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with
|
|
their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces? Well, that's how
|
|
Milverton impresses me. I've had to do with fifty murderers in
|
|
my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion
|
|
which I have for this fellow. And yet I can't get out of doing
|
|
business with him -- indeed, he is here at my invitation."
|
|
|
|
"But who is he?"
|
|
|
|
"I'll tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers.
|
|
Heaven help the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and
|
|
reputation come into the power of Milverton. With a smiling
|
|
face and a heart of marble he will squeeze and squeeze until he
|
|
has drained them dry. The fellow is a genius in his way, and
|
|
would have made his mark in some more savoury trade. His method
|
|
is as follows: He allows it to be known that he is prepared to
|
|
pay very high sums for letters which compromise people of wealth
|
|
or position. He receives these wares not only from treacherous
|
|
valets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians who have
|
|
gained the confidence and affection of trusting women.
|
|
He deals with no niggard hand. I happen to know that he paid
|
|
seven hundred pounds to a footman for a note two lines in length,
|
|
and that the ruin of a noble family was the result. Everything
|
|
which is in the market goes to Milverton, and there are hundreds
|
|
in this great city who turn white at his name. No one knows
|
|
where his grip may fall, for he is far too rich and far too
|
|
cunning to work from hand to mouth. He will hold a card back
|
|
for years in order to play it at the moment when the stake is
|
|
best worth winning. I have said that he is the worst man in
|
|
London, and I would ask you how could one compare the ruffian
|
|
who in hot blood bludgeons his mate with this man, who
|
|
methodically and at his leisure tortures the soul and wrings
|
|
the nerves in order to add to his already swollen money-bags?"
|
|
|
|
I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling.
|
|
|
|
"But surely," said I, "the fellow must be within the grasp
|
|
of the law?"
|
|
|
|
"Technically, no doubt, but practically not. What would it
|
|
profit a woman, for example, to get him a few months'
|
|
imprisonment if her own ruin must immediately follow? His
|
|
victims dare not hit back. If ever he blackmailed an innocent
|
|
person, then, indeed, we should have him; but he is as cunning
|
|
as the Evil One. No, no; we must find other ways to fight him."
|
|
|
|
"And why is he here?"
|
|
|
|
"Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case
|
|
in my hands. It is the Lady Eva Brackwell, the most beautiful
|
|
DEBUTANTE of last season. She is to be married in a fortnight
|
|
to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend has several imprudent
|
|
letters -- imprudent, Watson, nothing worse -- which were
|
|
written to an impecunious young squire in the country.
|
|
They would suffice to break off the match. Milverton will send
|
|
the letters to the Earl unless a large sum of money is paid him.
|
|
I have been commissioned to meet him, and -- to make the best
|
|
terms I can."
|
|
|
|
At that instant there was a clatter and a rattle in the street
|
|
below. Looking down I saw a stately carriage and pair, the
|
|
brilliant lamps gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble
|
|
chestnuts. A footman opened the door, and a small, stout man
|
|
in a shaggy astrachan overcoat descended. A minute later he
|
|
was in the room.
|
|
|
|
Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large,
|
|
intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual
|
|
frozen smile, and two keen grey eyes, which gleamed brightly
|
|
from behind broad, golden-rimmed glasses. There was something
|
|
of Mr. Pickwick's benevolence in his appearance, marred only by
|
|
the insincerity of the fixed smile and by the hard glitter of
|
|
those restless and penetrating eyes. His voice was as smooth
|
|
and suave as his countenance, as he advanced with a plump little
|
|
hand extended, murmuring his regret for having missed us at his
|
|
first visit. Holmes disregarded the outstretched hand and
|
|
looked at him with a face of granite. Milverton's smile
|
|
broadened; he shrugged his shoulders, removed his overcoat,
|
|
folded it with great deliberation over the back of a chair,
|
|
and then took a seat.
|
|
|
|
"This gentleman?" said he, with a wave in my direction.
|
|
"Is it discreet? Is it right?"
|
|
|
|
"Dr. Watson is my friend and partner."
|
|
|
|
"Very good, Mr. Holmes. It is only in your client's interests
|
|
that I protested. The matter is so very delicate ----"
|
|
|
|
"Dr. Watson has already heard of it."
|
|
|
|
"Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting
|
|
for Lady Eva. Has she empowered you to accept my terms?"
|
|
|
|
"What are your terms?"
|
|
|
|
"Seven thousand pounds."
|
|
|
|
"And the alternative?"
|
|
|
|
"My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it; but if the
|
|
money is not paid on the 14th there certainly will be no
|
|
marriage on the 18th." His insufferable smile was more
|
|
complacent than ever.
|
|
|
|
Holmes thought for a little.
|
|
|
|
"You appear to me," he said, at last, "to be taking matters too
|
|
much for granted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents
|
|
of these letters. My client will certainly do what I may
|
|
advise. I shall counsel her to tell her future husband the
|
|
whole story and to trust to his generosity."
|
|
|
|
Milverton chuckled.
|
|
|
|
"You evidently do not know the Earl," said he.
|
|
|
|
From the baffled look upon Holmes's face I could see clearly
|
|
that he did.
|
|
|
|
"What harm is there in the letters?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"They are sprightly -- very sprightly," Milverton answered.
|
|
"The lady was a charming correspondent. But I can assure you
|
|
that the Earl of Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them.
|
|
However, since you think otherwise, we will let it rest at that.
|
|
It is purely a matter of business. If you think that it is in
|
|
the best interests of your client that these letters should
|
|
be placed in the hands of the Earl, then you would indeed be
|
|
foolish to pay so large a sum of money to regain them."
|
|
He rose and seized his astrachan coat.
|
|
|
|
Holmes was grey with anger and mortification.
|
|
|
|
"Wait a little," he said. "You go too fast. We would certainly
|
|
make every effort to avoid scandal in so delicate a matter."
|
|
|
|
Milverton relapsed into his chair.
|
|
|
|
"I was sure that you would see it in that light," he purred.
|
|
|
|
"At the same time," Holmes continued, "Lady Eva is not a wealthy
|
|
woman. I assure you that two thousand pounds would be a drain
|
|
upon her resources, and that the sum you name is utterly beyond
|
|
her power. I beg, therefore, that you will moderate your
|
|
demands, and that you will return the letters at the price I
|
|
indicate, which is, I assure you, the highest that you can get."
|
|
|
|
Milverton's smile broadened and his eyes twinkled humorously.
|
|
|
|
"I am aware that what you say is true about the lady's
|
|
resources," said he. "At the same time, you must admit that
|
|
the occasion of a lady's marriage is a very suitable time for
|
|
her friends and relatives to make some little effort upon her
|
|
behalf. They may hesitate as to an acceptable wedding present.
|
|
Let me assure them that this little bundle of letters would give
|
|
more joy than all the candelabra and butter-dishes in London."
|
|
|
|
"It is impossible," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate!" cried Milverton, taking out
|
|
a bulky pocket-book. "I cannot help thinking that ladies are
|
|
ill-advised in not making an effort. Look at this!" He held up
|
|
a little note with a coat-of-arms upon the envelope. "That
|
|
belongs to -- well, perhaps it is hardly fair to tell the name
|
|
until to-morrow morning. But at that time it will be in the
|
|
hands of the lady's husband. And all because she will not find
|
|
a beggarly sum which she could get by turning her diamonds into
|
|
paste. It IS such a pity. Now, you remember the sudden end of
|
|
the engagement between the Honourable Miss Miles and Colonel
|
|
Dorking? Only two days before the wedding there was a
|
|
paragraph in the MORNING POST to say that it was all off.
|
|
And why? It is almost incredible, but the absurd sum of twelve
|
|
hundred pounds would have settled the whole question.
|
|
Is it not pitiful? And here I find you, a man of sense,
|
|
boggling about terms when your client's future and honour are
|
|
at stake. You surprise me, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"What I say is true," Holmes answered. "The money cannot be
|
|
found. Surely it is better for you to take the substantial sum
|
|
which I offer than to ruin this woman's career, which can profit
|
|
you in no way?"
|
|
|
|
"There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit
|
|
me indirectly to a considerable extent. I have eight or ten
|
|
similar cases maturing. If it was circulated among them that
|
|
I had made a severe example of the Lady Eva I should find all of
|
|
them much more open to reason. You see my point?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes sprang from his chair.
|
|
|
|
"Get behind him, Watson! Don't let him out! Now, sir, let us
|
|
see the contents of that note-book."
|
|
|
|
Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room,
|
|
and stood with his back against the wall.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes," he said, turning the front of his coat
|
|
and exhibiting the butt of a large revolver, which projected
|
|
from the inside pocket. "I have been expecting you to do
|
|
something original. This has been done so often, and what good
|
|
has ever come from it? I assure you that I am armed to the
|
|
teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing
|
|
that the law will support me. Besides, your supposition that
|
|
I would bring the letters here in a note-book is entirely
|
|
mistaken. I would do nothing so foolish. And now, gentlemen,
|
|
I have one or two little interviews this evening, and it is a
|
|
long drive to Hampstead." He stepped forward, took up his coat,
|
|
laid his hand on his revolver, and turned to the door. I picked
|
|
up a chair, but Holmes shook his head and I laid it down again.
|
|
With bow, a smile, and a twinkle Milverton was out of the room,
|
|
and a few moments after we heard the slam of the carriage door
|
|
and the rattle of the wheels as he drove away.
|
|
|
|
Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his
|
|
trouser pockets, his chin sunk upon his breast, his eyes fixed
|
|
upon the glowing embers. For half an hour he was silent and
|
|
still. Then, with the gesture of a man who has taken his
|
|
decision, he sprang to his feet and passed into his bedroom.
|
|
A little later a rakish young workman with a goatee beard and a
|
|
swagger lit his clay pipe at the lamp before descending into the
|
|
street. "I'll be back some time, Watson," said he, and vanished
|
|
into the night. I understood that he had opened his campaign
|
|
against Charles Augustus Milverton; but I little dreamed the
|
|
strange shape which that campaign was destined to take.
|
|
|
|
For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire,
|
|
but beyond a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead,
|
|
and that it was not wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing.
|
|
At last, however, on a wild, tempestuous evening, when the wind
|
|
screamed and rattled against the windows, he returned from his
|
|
last expedition, and having removed his disguise he sat before
|
|
the fire and laughed heartily in his silent inward fashion.
|
|
|
|
"You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?"
|
|
|
|
"No, indeed!"
|
|
|
|
"You'll be interested to hear that I am engaged."
|
|
|
|
"My dear fellow! I congrat ----"
|
|
|
|
"To Milverton's housemaid."
|
|
|
|
"Good heavens, Holmes!"
|
|
|
|
"I wanted information, Watson."
|
|
|
|
"Surely you have gone too far?"
|
|
|
|
"It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a rising
|
|
business, Escott by name. I have walked out with her each
|
|
evening, and I have talked with her. Good heavens, those talks!
|
|
However, I have got all I wanted. I know Milverton's house as
|
|
I know the palm of my hand."
|
|
|
|
"But the girl, Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
He shrugged his shoulders.
|
|
|
|
"You can't help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards
|
|
as best you can when such a stake is on the table. However,
|
|
I rejoice to say that I have a hated rival who will certainly
|
|
cut me out the instant that my back is turned. What a splendid
|
|
night it is!"
|
|
|
|
"You like this weather?"
|
|
|
|
"It suits my purpose. Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton's
|
|
house to-night."
|
|
|
|
I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at the
|
|
words, which were slowly uttered in a tone of concentrated
|
|
resolution. As a flash of lightning in the night shows up in
|
|
an instant every detail of a wide landscape, so at one glance
|
|
I seemed to see every possible result of such an action -- the
|
|
detection, the capture, the honoured career ending in
|
|
irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at
|
|
the mercy of the odious Milverton.
|
|
|
|
"For Heaven's sake, Holmes, think what you are doing," I cried.
|
|
|
|
"My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration. I am
|
|
never precipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt so energetic
|
|
and indeed so dangerous a course if any other were possible.
|
|
Let us look at the matter clearly and fairly. I suppose that
|
|
you will admit that the action is morally justifiable, though
|
|
technically criminal. To burgle his house is no more than to
|
|
forcibly take his pocket-book -- an action in which you were
|
|
prepared to aid me."
|
|
|
|
I turned it over in my mind.
|
|
|
|
"Yes," I said; "it is morally justifiable so long as our object
|
|
is to take no articles save those which are used for an illegal
|
|
purpose."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. Since it is morally justifiable I have only to
|
|
consider the question of personal risk. Surely a gentleman
|
|
should not lay much stress upon this when a lady is in most
|
|
desperate need of his help?"
|
|
|
|
"You will be in such a false position."
|
|
|
|
"Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possible way
|
|
of regaining these letters. The unfortunate lady has not the
|
|
money, and there are none of her people in whom she could
|
|
confide. To-morrow is the last day of grace, and unless we can
|
|
get the letters to-night this villain will be as good as his
|
|
word and will bring about her ruin. I must, therefore, abandon
|
|
my client to her fate or I must play this last card. Between
|
|
ourselves, Watson, it's a sporting duel between this fellow
|
|
Milverton and me. He had, as you saw, the best of the first
|
|
exchanges; but my self-respect and my reputation are concerned
|
|
to fight it to a finish."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I don't like it; but I suppose it must be," said I.
|
|
"When do we start?"
|
|
|
|
"You are not coming."
|
|
|
|
"Then you are not going," said I. "I give you my word of honour
|
|
-- and I never broke it in my life -- that I will take a cab
|
|
straight to the police-station and give you away unless you let
|
|
me share this adventure with you."
|
|
|
|
"You can't help me."
|
|
|
|
"How do you know that? You can't tell what may happen.
|
|
Anyway, my resolution is taken. Other people beside you
|
|
have self-respect and even reputations."
|
|
|
|
Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped
|
|
me on the shoulder.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so. We have shared the
|
|
same room for some years, and it would be amusing if we ended
|
|
by sharing the same cell. You know, Watson, I don't mind
|
|
confessing to you that I have always had an idea that I would
|
|
have made a highly efficient criminal. This is the chance of my
|
|
lifetime in that direction. See here!" He took a neat little
|
|
leather case out of a drawer, and opening it he exhibited
|
|
a number of shining instruments. "This is a first-class,
|
|
up-to-date burgling kit, with nickel-plated jemmy, diamond-tipped
|
|
glass-cutter, adaptable keys, and every modern improvement which
|
|
the march of civilization demands. Here, too, is my dark lantern.
|
|
Everything is in order. Have you a pair of silent shoes?"
|
|
|
|
"I have rubber-soled tennis shoes."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent. And a mask?"
|
|
|
|
"I can make a couple out of black silk."
|
|
|
|
"I can see that you have a strong natural turn for this sort
|
|
of thing. Very good; do you make the masks. We shall have some
|
|
cold supper before we start. It is now nine-thirty. At eleven
|
|
we shall drive as far as Church Row. It is a quarter of an
|
|
hour's walk from there to Appledore Towers. We shall be at work
|
|
before midnight. Milverton is a heavy sleeper and retires
|
|
punctually at ten-thirty. With any luck we should be back here
|
|
by two, with the Lady Eva's letters in my pocket."
|
|
|
|
Holmes and I put on our dress-clothes, so that we might
|
|
appear to be two theatre-goers homeward bound. In Oxford Street
|
|
we picked up a hansom and drove to an address in Hampstead.
|
|
Here we paid off our cab, and with our great-coats buttoned up,
|
|
for it was bitterly cold and the wind seemed to blow through us,
|
|
we walked along the edge of the Heath.
|
|
|
|
"It's a business that needs delicate treatment," said Holmes.
|
|
"These documents are contained in a safe in the fellow's study,
|
|
and the study is the ante-room of his bed-chamber. On the other
|
|
hand, like all these stout, little men who do themselves well,
|
|
he is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha -- that's my FIANCEE -- says
|
|
it is a joke in the servants' hall that it's impossible to wake
|
|
the master. He has a secretary who is devoted to his interests
|
|
and never budges from the study all day. That's why we are
|
|
going at night. Then he has a beast of a dog which roams the
|
|
garden. I met Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks
|
|
the brute up so as to give me a clear run. This is the house,
|
|
this big one in its own grounds. Through the gate -- now to
|
|
the right among the laurels. We might put on our masks here,
|
|
I think. You see, there is not a glimmer of light in any of
|
|
the windows, and everything is working splendidly."
|
|
|
|
With our black silk face-coverings, which turned us into two of
|
|
the most truculent figures in London, we stole up to the silent,
|
|
gloomy house. A sort of tiled veranda extended along one side
|
|
of it, lined by several windows and two doors.
|
|
|
|
"That's his bedroom," Holmes whispered. "This door opens
|
|
straight into the study. It would suit us best, but it is
|
|
bolted as well as locked, and we should make too much noise
|
|
getting in. Come round here. There's a greenhouse which
|
|
opens into the drawing-room."
|
|
|
|
The place was locked, but Holmes removed a circle of glass and
|
|
turned the key from the inside. An instant afterwards he had
|
|
closed the door behind us, and we had become felons in the eyes
|
|
of the law. The thick, warm air of the conservatory and the
|
|
rich, choking fragrance of exotic plants took us by the throat.
|
|
He seized my hand in the darkness and led me swiftly past banks
|
|
of shrubs which brushed against our faces. Holmes had
|
|
remarkable powers, carefully cultivated, of seeing in the dark.
|
|
Still holding my hand in one of his he opened a door, and I was
|
|
vaguely conscious that we had entered a large room in which a
|
|
cigar had been smoked not long before. He felt his way among
|
|
the furniture, opened another door, and closed it behind us.
|
|
Putting out my hand I felt several coats hanging from the wall,
|
|
and I understood that I was in a passage. We passed along it,
|
|
and Holmes very gently opened a door upon the right-hand side.
|
|
Something rushed out at us and my heart sprang into my mouth,
|
|
but I could have laughed when I realized that it was the cat.
|
|
A fire was burning in this new room, and again the air was heavy
|
|
with tobacco smoke. Holmes entered on tiptoe, waited for me
|
|
to follow, and then very gently closed the door. We were in
|
|
Milverton's study, and a PORTIERE at the farther side showed
|
|
the entrance to his bedroom.
|
|
|
|
It was a good fire, and the room was illuminated by it.
|
|
Near the door I saw the gleam of an electric switch, but it
|
|
was unnecessary, even if it had been safe, to turn it on.
|
|
At one side of the fireplace was a heavy curtain, which covered
|
|
the bay window we had seen from outside. On the other side was
|
|
the door which communicated with the veranda. A desk stood in the
|
|
centre, with a turning chair of shining red leather. Opposite
|
|
was a large bookcase, with a marble bust of Athene on the top.
|
|
In the corner between the bookcase and the wall there stood a
|
|
tall green safe, the firelight flashing back from the polished
|
|
brass knobs upon its face. Holmes stole across and looked at
|
|
it. Then he crept to the door of the bedroom, and stood with
|
|
slanting head listening intently. No sound came from within.
|
|
Meanwhile it had struck me that it would be wise to secure our
|
|
retreat through the outer door, so I examined it. To my
|
|
amazement it was neither locked nor bolted! I touched Holmes
|
|
on the arm, and he turned his masked face in that direction.
|
|
I saw him start, and he was evidently as surprised as I.
|
|
|
|
"I don't like it," he whispered, putting his lips to my very ear.
|
|
"I can't quite make it out. Anyhow, we have no time to lose."
|
|
|
|
"Can I do anything?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; stand by the door. If you hear anyone come, bolt it
|
|
on the inside, and we can get away as we came. If they come
|
|
the other way, we can get through the door if our job is done,
|
|
or hide behind these window curtains if it is not. Do you
|
|
understand?"
|
|
|
|
I nodded and stood by the door. My first feeling of fear had
|
|
passed away, and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had
|
|
ever enjoyed when we were the defenders of the law instead of
|
|
its defiers. The high object of our mission, the consciousness
|
|
that it was unselfish and chivalrous, the villainous character
|
|
of our opponent, all added to the sporting interest of the
|
|
adventure. Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced and exulted
|
|
in our dangers. With a glow of admiration I watched Holmes
|
|
unrolling his case of instruments and choosing his tool with the
|
|
calm, scientific accuracy of a surgeon who performs a delicate
|
|
operation. I knew that the opening of safes was a particular
|
|
hobby with him, and I understood the joy which it gave him to be
|
|
confronted with this green and gold monster, the dragon which
|
|
held in its maw the reputations of many fair ladies. Turning up
|
|
the cuffs of his dress-coat -- he had placed his overcoat on a
|
|
chair -- Holmes laid out two drills, a jemmy, and several
|
|
skeleton keys. I stood at the centre door with my eyes glancing
|
|
at each of the others, ready for any emergency; though, indeed,
|
|
my plans were somewhat vague as to what I should do if we were
|
|
interrupted. For half an hour Holmes worked with concentrated
|
|
energy, laying down one tool, picking up another, handling each
|
|
with the strength and delicacy of the trained mechanic. Finally
|
|
I heard a click, the broad green door swung open, and inside
|
|
I had a glimpse of a number of paper packets, each tied, sealed,
|
|
and inscribed. Holmes picked one out, but it was hard to read
|
|
by the flickering fire, and he drew out his little dark lantern,
|
|
for it was too dangerous, with Milverton in the next room, to
|
|
switch on the electric light. Suddenly I saw him halt, listen
|
|
intently, and then in an instant he had swung the door of the
|
|
safe to, picked up his coat, stuffed his tools into the pockets,
|
|
and darted behind the window curtain, motioning me to do the same.
|
|
|
|
It was only when I had joined him there that I heard what had
|
|
alarmed his quicker senses. There was a noise somewhere within
|
|
the house. A door slammed in the distance. Then a confused,
|
|
dull murmur broke itself into the measured thud of heavy
|
|
footsteps rapidly approaching. They were in the passage outside
|
|
the room. They paused at the door. The door opened. There was
|
|
a sharp snick as the electric light was turned on. The door
|
|
closed once more, and the pungent reek of a strong cigar was
|
|
borne to our nostrils. Then the footsteps continued backwards
|
|
and forwards, backwards and forwards, within a few yards of us.
|
|
Finally, there was a creak from a chair, and the footsteps ceased.
|
|
Then a key clicked in a lock and I heard the rustle of papers.
|
|
|
|
So far I had not dared to look out, but now I gently parted the
|
|
division of the curtains in front of me and peeped through.
|
|
From the pressure of Holmes's shoulder against mine I knew
|
|
that he was sharing my observations. Right in front of us,
|
|
and almost within our reach, was the broad, rounded back of
|
|
Milverton. It was evident that we had entirely miscalculated
|
|
his movements, that he had never been to his bedroom, but that
|
|
he had been sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in the
|
|
farther wing of the house, the windows of which we had not seen.
|
|
His broad, grizzled head, with its shining patch of baldness,
|
|
was in the immediate foreground of our vision. He was leaning
|
|
far back in the red leather chair, his legs outstretched, a long
|
|
black cigar projecting at an angle from his mouth. He wore a
|
|
semi-military smoking jacket, claret-coloured, with a black
|
|
velvet collar. In his hand he held a long legal document, which
|
|
he was reading in an indolent fashion, blowing rings of tobacco
|
|
smoke from his lips as he did so. There was no promise of a
|
|
speedy departure in his composed bearing and his comfortable
|
|
attitude.
|
|
|
|
I felt Holmes's hand steal into mine and give me a reassuring
|
|
shake, as if to say that the situation was within his powers and
|
|
that he was easy in his mind. I was not sure whether he had
|
|
seen what was only too obvious from my position, that the door
|
|
of the safe was imperfectly closed, and that Milverton might at
|
|
any moment observe it. In my own mind I had determined that if
|
|
I were sure, from the rigidity of his gaze, that it had caught
|
|
his eye, I would at once spring out, throw my great-coat
|
|
over his head, pinion him, and leave the rest to Holmes.
|
|
But Milverton never looked up. He was languidly interested
|
|
by the papers in his hand, and page after page was turned as he
|
|
followed the argument of the lawyer. At least, I thought, when
|
|
he has finished the document and the cigar he will go to his
|
|
room; but before he had reached the end of either there came
|
|
a remarkable development which turned our thoughts into quite
|
|
another channel.
|
|
|
|
Several times I had observed that Milverton looked at his
|
|
watch, and once he had risen and sat down again, with a gesture
|
|
of impatience. The idea, however, that he might have an
|
|
appointment at so strange an hour never occurred to me until
|
|
a faint sound reached my ears from the veranda outside.
|
|
Milverton dropped his papers and sat rigid in his chair.
|
|
The sound was repeated, and then there came a gentle tap
|
|
at the door. Milverton rose and opened it.
|
|
|
|
"Well," said he, curtly, "you are nearly half an hour late."
|
|
|
|
So this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the
|
|
nocturnal vigil of Milverton. There was the gentle rustle of
|
|
a woman's dress. I had closed the slit between the curtains as
|
|
Milverton's face had turned in our direction, but now I ventured
|
|
very carefully to open it once more. He had resumed his seat,
|
|
the cigar still projecting at an insolent angle from the corner
|
|
of his mouth. In front of him, in the full glare of the
|
|
electric light, there stood a tall, slim, dark woman, a veil
|
|
over her face, a mantle drawn round her chin. Her breath came
|
|
quick and fast, and every inch of the lithe figure was quivering
|
|
with strong emotion.
|
|
|
|
"Well," said Milverton, "you've made me lose a good night's rest,
|
|
my dear. I hope you'll prove worth it. You couldn't come any
|
|
other time -- eh?"
|
|
|
|
The woman shook her head.
|
|
|
|
"Well, if you couldn't you couldn't. If the Countess is a
|
|
hard mistress you have your chance to get level with her now.
|
|
Bless the girl, what are you shivering about? That's right!
|
|
Pull yourself together! Now, let us get down to business."
|
|
He took a note from the drawer of his desk. "You say that
|
|
you have five letters which compromise the Countess d'Albert.
|
|
You want to sell them. I want to buy them. So far so good.
|
|
It only remains to fix a price. I should want to inspect the
|
|
letters, of course. If they are really good specimens ---
|
|
Great heavens, is it you?"
|
|
|
|
The woman without a word had raised her veil and dropped the
|
|
mantle from her chin. It was a dark, handsome, clear-cut face
|
|
which confronted Milverton, a face with a curved nose, strong,
|
|
dark eyebrows shading hard, glittering eyes, and a straight,
|
|
thin-lipped mouth set in a dangerous smile.
|
|
|
|
"It is I," she said; "the woman whose life you have ruined."
|
|
|
|
Milverton laughed, but fear vibrated in his voice. "You were
|
|
so very obstinate," said he. "Why did you drive me to such
|
|
extremities? I assure you I wouldn't hurt a fly of my own
|
|
accord, but every man has his business, and what was I to do?
|
|
I put the price well within your means. You would not pay."
|
|
|
|
"So you sent the letters to my husband, and he -- the noblest
|
|
gentleman that ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy
|
|
to lace -- he broke his gallant heart and died. You remember
|
|
that last night when I came through that door I begged and
|
|
prayed you for mercy, and you laughed in my face as you are
|
|
trying to laugh now, only your coward heart cannot keep your
|
|
lips from twitching? Yes, you never thought to see me here
|
|
again, but it was that night which taught me how I could meet
|
|
you face to face, and alone. Well, Charles Milverton, what have
|
|
you to say?"
|
|
|
|
"Don't imagine that you can bully me," said he, rising to
|
|
his feet. "I have only to raise my voice, and I could call
|
|
my servants and have you arrested. But I will make allowance
|
|
for your natural anger. Leave the room at once as you came,
|
|
and I will say no more."
|
|
|
|
The woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom, and the same
|
|
deadly smile on her thin lips.
|
|
|
|
"You will ruin no more lives as you ruined mine. You will wring
|
|
no more hearts as you wrung mine. I will free the world of a
|
|
poisonous thing. Take that, you hound, and that! -- and that!
|
|
-- and that!"
|
|
|
|
She had drawn a little, gleaming revolver, and emptied barrel
|
|
after barrel into Milverton's body, the muzzle within two feet
|
|
of his shirt front. He shrank away and then fell forward upon
|
|
the table, coughing furiously and clawing among the papers.
|
|
Then he staggered to his feet, received another shot, and rolled
|
|
upon the floor. "You've done me," he cried, and lay still.
|
|
The woman looked at him intently and ground her heel into his
|
|
upturned face. She looked again, but there was no sound or
|
|
movement. I heard a sharp rustle, the night air blew into the
|
|
heated room, and the avenger was gone.
|
|
|
|
No interference upon our part could have saved the man from
|
|
his fate; but as the woman poured bullet after bullet into
|
|
Milverton's shrinking body I was about to spring out, when I
|
|
felt Holmes's cold, strong grasp upon my wrist. I understood
|
|
the whole argument of that firm, restraining grip -- that it was
|
|
no affair of ours; that justice had overtaken a villain; that we
|
|
had our own duties and our own objects which were not to be lost
|
|
sight of. But hardly had the woman rushed from the room when
|
|
Holmes, with swift, silent steps, was over at the other door.
|
|
He turned the key in the lock. At the same instant we heard
|
|
voices in the house and the sound of hurrying feet. The
|
|
revolver shots had roused the household. With perfect coolness
|
|
Holmes slipped across to the safe, filled his two arms with
|
|
bundles of letters, and poured them all into the fire. Again
|
|
and again he did it, until the safe was empty. Someone turned
|
|
the handle and beat upon the outside of the door. Holmes looked
|
|
swiftly round. The letter which had been the messenger of death
|
|
for Milverton lay, all mottled with his blood, upon the table.
|
|
Holmes tossed it in among the blazing papers. Then he drew the
|
|
key from the outer door, passed through after me, and locked it
|
|
on the outside. "This way, Watson," said he; "we can scale the
|
|
garden wall in this direction."
|
|
|
|
I could not have believed that an alarm could have spread so
|
|
swiftly. Looking back, the huge house was one blaze of light.
|
|
The front door was open, and figures were rushing down the
|
|
drive. The whole garden was alive with people, and one fellow
|
|
raised a view-halloa as we emerged from the veranda and followed
|
|
hard at our heels. Holmes seemed to know the ground perfectly,
|
|
and he threaded his way swiftly among a plantation of small
|
|
trees, I close at his heels, and our foremost pursuer panting
|
|
behind us. It was a six-foot wall which barred our path, but he
|
|
sprang to the top and over. As I did the same I felt the hand
|
|
of the man behind me grab at my ankle; but I kicked myself free
|
|
and scrambled over a glass-strewn coping. I fell upon my face
|
|
among some bushes; but Holmes had me on my feet in an instant,
|
|
and together we dashed away across the huge expanse of Hampstead
|
|
Heath. We had run two miles, I suppose, before Holmes at last
|
|
halted and listened intently. All was absolute silence behind us.
|
|
We had shaken off our pursuers and were safe.
|
|
|
|
|
|
We had breakfasted and were smoking our morning pipe on the
|
|
day after the remarkable experience which I have recorded when
|
|
Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, very solemn and impressive,
|
|
was ushered into our modest sitting-room.
|
|
|
|
"Good morning, Mr. Holmes," said he; "good morning.
|
|
May I ask if you are very busy just now?"
|
|
|
|
"Not too busy to listen to you."
|
|
|
|
"I thought that, perhaps, if you had nothing particular on hand,
|
|
you might care to assist us in a most remarkable case which
|
|
occurred only last night at Hampstead."
|
|
|
|
"Dear me!" said Holmes. "What was that?"
|
|
|
|
"A murder -- a most dramatic and remarkable murder. I know how
|
|
keen you are upon these things, and I would take it as a great
|
|
favour if you would step down to Appledore Towers and give us
|
|
the benefit of your advice. It is no ordinary crime. We have
|
|
had our eyes upon this Mr. Milverton for some time, and, between
|
|
ourselves, he was a bit of a villain. He is known to have held
|
|
papers which he used for blackmailing purposes. These papers
|
|
have all been burned by the murderers. No article of value was
|
|
taken, as it is probable that the criminals were men of good
|
|
position, whose sole object was to prevent social exposure."
|
|
|
|
"Criminals!" said Holmes. "Plural!"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, there were two of them. They were, as nearly as possible,
|
|
captured red-handed. We have their foot-marks, we have their
|
|
description; it's ten to one that we trace them. The first
|
|
fellow was a bit too active, but the second was caught by the
|
|
under-gardener and only got away after a struggle. He was a
|
|
middle-sized, strongly-built man -- square jaw, thick neck,
|
|
moustache, a mask over his eyes."
|
|
|
|
"That's rather vague," said Sherlock Holmes.
|
|
"Why, it might be a description of Watson!"
|
|
|
|
"It's true," said the inspector, with much amusement.
|
|
"It might be a description of Watson."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I am afraid I can't help you, Lestrade," said Holmes.
|
|
"The fact is that I knew this fellow Milverton, that I
|
|
considered him one of the most dangerous men in London, and that
|
|
I think there are certain crimes which the law cannot touch,
|
|
and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge.
|
|
No, it's no use arguing. I have made up my mind. My sympathies
|
|
are with the criminals rather than with the victim, and I will
|
|
not handle this case."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedy which we
|
|
had witnessed, but I observed all the morning that he was in his
|
|
most thoughtful mood, and he gave me the impression, from his
|
|
vacant eyes and his abstracted manner, of a man who is striving
|
|
to recall something to his memory. We were in the middle of our
|
|
lunch when he suddenly sprang to his feet. "By Jove, Watson;
|
|
I've got it!" he cried. "Take your hat! Come with me!"
|
|
He hurried at his top speed down Baker Street and along Oxford
|
|
Street, until we had almost reached Regent Circus. Here on the
|
|
left hand there stands a shop window filled with photographs of
|
|
the celebrities and beauties of the day. Holmes's eyes fixed
|
|
themselves upon one of them, and following his gaze I saw the
|
|
picture of a regal and stately lady in Court dress, with a high
|
|
diamond tiara upon her noble head. I looked at that
|
|
delicately-curved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight
|
|
mouth, and the strong little chin beneath it. Then I caught my
|
|
breath as I read the time-honoured title of the great nobleman
|
|
and statesman whose wife she had been. My eyes met those of Holmes,
|
|
and he put his finger to his lips as we turned away from the window.
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
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THE STRAND MAGAZINE
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Vol. 27 MAY, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
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VIII. --- The Adventure of the Six Napoleons.
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|
IT was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard,
|
|
to look in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to
|
|
Sherlock Holmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with all
|
|
that was going on at the police head-quarters. In return for
|
|
the news which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready to
|
|
listen with attention to the details of any case upon which the
|
|
detective was engaged, and was able occasionally, without any
|
|
active interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn from
|
|
his own vast knowledge and experience.
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|
|
On this particular evening Lestrade had spoken of the weather
|
|
and the newspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffing
|
|
thoughtfully at his cigar. Holmes looked keenly at him.
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|
|
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"Anything remarkable on hand?" he asked.
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|
"Oh, no, Mr. Holmes, nothing very particular."
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"Then tell me about it."
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|
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Lestrade laughed.
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|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that there IS
|
|
something on my mind. And yet it is such an absurd business
|
|
that I hesitated to bother you about it. On the other hand,
|
|
although it is trivial, it is undoubtedly queer, and I know that
|
|
you have a taste for all that is out of the common. But in my
|
|
opinion it comes more in Dr. Watson's line than ours."
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"Disease?" said I.
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|
"Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness too! You wouldn't think
|
|
there was anyone living at this time of day who had such a
|
|
hatred of Napoleon the First that he would break any image of
|
|
him that he could see."
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|
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|
Holmes sank back in his chair.
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|
|
"That's no business of mine," said he.
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|
|
"Exactly. That's what I said. But then, when the man commits
|
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burglary in order to break images which are not his own, that
|
|
brings it away from the doctor and on to the policeman."
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Holmes sat up again.
|
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|
|
"Burglary! This is more interesting. Let me hear the details."
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|
|
Lestrade took out his official note-book and refreshed his
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memory from its pages.
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|
"The first case reported was four days ago," said he. "It was
|
|
at the shop of Morse Hudson, who has a place for the sale of
|
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pictures and statues in the Kennington Road. The assistant had
|
|
left the front shop for an instant when he heard a crash, and
|
|
hurrying in he found a plaster bust of Napoleon, which stood
|
|
with several other works of art upon the counter, lying shivered
|
|
into fragments. He rushed out into the road, but, although
|
|
several passers-by declared that they had noticed a man run out
|
|
of the shop, he could neither see anyone nor could he find any
|
|
means of identifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of those
|
|
senseless acts of Hooliganism which occur from time to time,
|
|
and it was reported to the constable on the beat as such.
|
|
The plaster cast was not worth more than a few shillings,
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|
and the whole affair appeared to be too childish for any
|
|
particular investigation.
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"The second case, however, was more serious and also more
|
|
singular. It occurred only last night.
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|
"In Kennington Road, and within a few hundred yards of Morse
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Hudson's shop, there lives a well-known medical practitioner,
|
|
named Dr. Barnicot, who has one of the largest practices upon
|
|
the south side of the Thames. His residence and principal
|
|
consulting-room is at Kennington Road, but he has a branch
|
|
surgery and dispensary at Lower Brixton Road, two miles away.
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|
This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and
|
|
his house is full of books, pictures, and relics of the French
|
|
Emperor. Some little time ago he purchased from Morse Hudson
|
|
two duplicate plaster casts of the famous head of Napoleon by
|
|
the French sculptor, Devine. One of these he placed in his
|
|
hall in the house at Kennington Road, and the other on the
|
|
mantelpiece of the surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr.
|
|
Barnicot came down this morning he was astonished to find that
|
|
his house had been burgled during the night, but that nothing
|
|
had been taken save the plaster head from the hall. It had been
|
|
carried out and had been dashed savagely against the garden
|
|
wall, under which its splintered fragments were discovered."
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Holmes rubbed his hands.
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|
|
"This is certainly very novel," said he.
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|
|
"I thought it would please you. But I have not got to the end
|
|
yet. Dr. Barnicot was due at his surgery at twelve o'clock,
|
|
and you can imagine his amazement when, on arriving there,
|
|
he found that the window had been opened in the night, and that
|
|
the broken pieces of his second bust were strewn all over the room.
|
|
It had been smashed to atoms where it stood. In neither case
|
|
were there any signs which could give us a clue as to the
|
|
criminal or lunatic who had done the mischief. Now, Mr. Holmes,
|
|
you have got the facts."
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|
|
|
"They are singular, not to say grotesque," said Holmes.
|
|
"May I ask whether the two busts smashed in Dr. Barnicot's
|
|
rooms were the exact duplicates of the one which was destroyed
|
|
in Morse Hudson's shop?"
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|
|
|
"They were taken from the same mould."
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|
|
|
"Such a fact must tell against the theory that the man who
|
|
breaks them is influenced by any general hatred of Napoleon.
|
|
Considering how many hundreds of statues of the great Emperor
|
|
must exist in London, it is too much to suppose such a
|
|
coincidence as that a promiscuous iconoclast should chance
|
|
to begin upon three specimens of the same bust."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I thought as you do," said Lestrade. "On the other hand,
|
|
this Morse Hudson is the purveyor of busts in that part of
|
|
London, and these three were the only ones which had been in his
|
|
shop for years. So, although, as you say, there are many
|
|
hundreds of statues in London, it is very probable that these
|
|
three were the only ones in that district. Therefore, a local
|
|
fanatic would begin with them. What do you think, Dr. Watson?"
|
|
|
|
"There are no limits to the possibilities of monomania,"
|
|
I answered. "There is the condition which the modern French
|
|
psychologists have called the `idee fixe,' which may be trifling
|
|
in character, and accompanied by complete sanity in every other
|
|
way. A man who had read deeply about Napoleon, or who had
|
|
possibly received some hereditary family injury through the
|
|
great war, might conceivably form such an `idee fixe' and under
|
|
its influence be capable of any fantastic outrage."
|
|
|
|
"That won't do, my dear Watson," said Holmes, shaking his head;
|
|
"for no amount of `idee fixe' would enable your interesting
|
|
monomaniac to find out where these busts were situated."
|
|
|
|
"Well, how do YOU explain it?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't attempt to do so. I would only observe that there is a
|
|
certain method in the gentleman's eccentric proceedings. For
|
|
example, in Dr. Barnicot's hall, where a sound might arouse the
|
|
family, the bust was taken outside before being broken, whereas
|
|
in the surgery, where there was less danger of an alarm, it was
|
|
smashed where it stood. The affair seems absurdly trifling, and
|
|
yet I dare call nothing trivial when I reflect that some of my
|
|
most classic cases have had the least promising commencement.
|
|
You will remember, Watson, how the dreadful business of the
|
|
Abernetty family was first brought to my notice by the depth
|
|
which the parsley had sunk into the butter upon a hot day.
|
|
I can't afford, therefore, to smile at your three broken busts,
|
|
Lestrade, and I shall be very much obliged to you if you will
|
|
let me hear of any fresh developments of so singular a chain
|
|
of events."
|
|
|
|
|
|
The development for which my friend had asked came in a quicker
|
|
and an infinitely more tragic form than he could have imagined.
|
|
I was still dressing in my bedroom next morning when there was
|
|
a tap at the door and Holmes entered, a telegram in his hand.
|
|
He read it aloud:--
|
|
|
|
"Come instantly, 131, Pitt Street, Kensington. -- Lestrade."
|
|
|
|
"What is it, then?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"Don't know -- may be anything. But I suspect it is the
|
|
sequel of the story of the statues. In that case our friend,
|
|
the image-breaker, has begun operations in another quarter of
|
|
London. There's coffee on the table, Watson, and I have a cab
|
|
at the door."
|
|
|
|
In half an hour we had reached Pitt Street, a quiet little
|
|
backwater just beside one of the briskest currents of London
|
|
life. No. 131 was one of a row, all flat-chested, respectable,
|
|
and most unromantic dwellings. As we drove up we found the
|
|
railings in front of the house lined by a curious crowd.
|
|
Holmes whistled.
|
|
|
|
"By George! it's attempted murder at the least. Nothing less
|
|
will hold the London message-boy. There's a deed of violence
|
|
indicated in that fellow's round shoulders and outstretched
|
|
neck. What's this, Watson? The top steps swilled down and the
|
|
other ones dry. Footsteps enough, anyhow! Well, well, there's
|
|
Lestrade at the front window, and we shall soon know all about it."
|
|
|
|
The official received us with a very grave face and showed us
|
|
into a sitting-room, where an exceedingly unkempt and agitated
|
|
elderly man, clad in a flannel dressing-gown, was pacing up and
|
|
down. He was introduced to us as the owner of the house --
|
|
Mr. Horace Harker, of the Central Press Syndicate.
|
|
|
|
"It's the Napoleon bust business again," said Lestrade.
|
|
"You seemed interested last night, Mr. Holmes, so I thought
|
|
perhaps you would be glad to be present now that the affair
|
|
has taken a very much graver turn."
|
|
|
|
"What has it turned to, then?"
|
|
|
|
"To murder. Mr. Harker, will you tell these gentlemen exactly
|
|
what has occurred?"
|
|
|
|
The man in the dressing-gown turned upon us with a most
|
|
melancholy face.
|
|
|
|
"It's an extraordinary thing," said he, "that all my life I have
|
|
been collecting other people's news, and now that a real piece
|
|
of news has come my own way I am so confused and bothered that
|
|
I can't put two words together. If I had come in here as a
|
|
journalist I should have interviewed myself and had two columns
|
|
in every evening paper. As it is I am giving away valuable copy
|
|
by telling my story over and over to a string of different people,
|
|
and I can make no use of it myself. However, I've heard your name,
|
|
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and if you'll only explain this queer business
|
|
I shall be paid for my trouble in telling you the story."
|
|
|
|
Holmes sat down and listened.
|
|
|
|
"It all seems to centre round that bust of Napoleon which I
|
|
bought for this very room about four months ago. I picked it up
|
|
cheap from Harding Brothers, two doors from the High Street
|
|
Station. A great deal of my journalistic work is done at night,
|
|
and I often write until the early morning. So it was to-day.
|
|
I was sitting in my den, which is at the back of the top of the
|
|
house, about three o'clock, when I was convinced that I heard
|
|
some sounds downstairs. I listened, but they were not repeated,
|
|
and I concluded that they came from outside. Then suddenly,
|
|
about five minutes later, there came a most horrible yell -- the
|
|
most dreadful sound, Mr. Holmes, that ever I heard. It will
|
|
ring in my ears as long as I live. I sat frozen with horror for
|
|
a minute or two. Then I seized the poker and went downstairs.
|
|
When I entered this room I found the window wide open, and I at
|
|
once observed that the bust was gone from the mantelpiece.
|
|
Why any burglar should take such a thing passes my understanding,
|
|
for it was only a plaster cast and of no real value whatever.
|
|
|
|
"You can see for yourself that anyone going out through that
|
|
open window could reach the front doorstep by taking a long
|
|
stride. This was clearly what the burglar had done, so I went
|
|
round and opened the door. Stepping out into the dark I nearly
|
|
fell over a dead man who was lying there. I ran back for a
|
|
light, and there was the poor fellow, a great gash in his throat
|
|
and the whole place swimming in blood. He lay on his back, his
|
|
knees drawn up, and his mouth horribly open. I shall see him in
|
|
my dreams. I had just time to blow on my police-whistle, and
|
|
then I must have fainted, for I knew nothing more until I found
|
|
the policeman standing over me in the hall."
|
|
|
|
"Well, who was the murdered man?" asked Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"There's nothing to show who he was," said Lestrade. "You shall
|
|
see the body at the mortuary, but we have made nothing of it up
|
|
to now. He is a tall man, sunburned, very powerful, not more
|
|
than thirty. He is poorly dressed, and yet does not appear to
|
|
be a labourer. A horn-handled clasp knife was lying in a pool
|
|
of blood beside him. Whether it was the weapon which did the
|
|
deed, or whether it belonged to the dead man, I do not know.
|
|
There was no name on his clothing, and nothing in his pockets
|
|
save an apple, some string, a shilling map of London, and a
|
|
photograph. Here it is."
|
|
|
|
It was evidently taken by a snap-shot from a small camera.
|
|
It represented an alert, sharp-featured simian man with thick
|
|
eyebrows, and a very peculiar projection of the lower part of
|
|
the face like the muzzle of a baboon.
|
|
|
|
"And what became of the bust?" asked Holmes, after a careful
|
|
study of this picture.
|
|
|
|
"We had news of it just before you came. It has been found
|
|
in the front garden of an empty house in Campden House Road.
|
|
It was broken into fragments. I am going round now to see it.
|
|
Will you come?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly. I must just take one look round." He examined the
|
|
carpet and the window. "The fellow had either very long legs or
|
|
was a most active man," said he. "With an area beneath, it was
|
|
no mean feat to reach that window-ledge and open that window.
|
|
Getting back was comparatively simple. Are you coming with us
|
|
to see the remains of your bust, Mr. Harker?"
|
|
|
|
The disconsolate journalist had seated himself at a writing-table.
|
|
|
|
"I must try and make something of it," said he, "though I have
|
|
no doubt that the first editions of the evening papers are out
|
|
already with full details. It's like my luck! You remember
|
|
when the stand fell at Doncaster? Well, I was the only
|
|
journalist in the stand, and my journal the only one that had
|
|
no account of it, for I was too shaken to write it. And now
|
|
I'll be too late with a murder done on my own doorstep."
|
|
|
|
As we left the room we heard his pen travelling shrilly over
|
|
the foolscap.
|
|
|
|
The spot where the fragments of the bust had been found was only
|
|
a few hundred yards away. For the first time our eyes rested
|
|
upon this presentment of the great Emperor, which seemed to
|
|
raise such frantic and destructive hatred in the mind of the
|
|
unknown. It lay scattered in splintered shards upon the
|
|
grass. Holmes picked up several of them and examined them
|
|
carefully. I was convinced from his intent face and his
|
|
purposeful manner that at last he was upon a clue.
|
|
|
|
"Well?" asked Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
|
|
|
|
"We have a long way to go yet," said he. "And yet -- and yet --
|
|
well, we have some suggestive facts to act upon. The possession
|
|
of this trifling bust was worth more in the eyes of this
|
|
strange criminal than a human life. That is one point.
|
|
Then there is the singular fact that he did not break it in the
|
|
house, or immediately outside the house, if to break it was his
|
|
sole object."
|
|
|
|
"He was rattled and bustled by meeting this other fellow.
|
|
He hardly knew what he was doing."
|
|
|
|
"Well, that's likely enough. But I wish to call your attention
|
|
very particularly to the position of this house in the garden
|
|
of which the bust was destroyed."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade looked about him.
|
|
|
|
"It was an empty house, and so he knew that he would not be
|
|
disturbed in the garden."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, but there is another empty house farther up the street
|
|
which he must have passed before he came to this one. Why did
|
|
he not break it there, since it is evident that every yard that
|
|
he carried it increased the risk of someone meeting him?"
|
|
|
|
"I give it up," said Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
Holmes pointed to the street lamp above our heads.
|
|
|
|
"He could see what he was doing here and he could not there.
|
|
That was his reason."
|
|
|
|
"By Jove! that's true," said the detective. "Now that I come to
|
|
think of it, Dr. Barnicot's bust was broken not far from his red
|
|
lamp. Well, Mr. Holmes, what are we to do with that fact?"
|
|
|
|
"To remember it -- to docket it. We may come on something
|
|
later which will bear upon it. What steps do you propose
|
|
to take now, Lestrade?"
|
|
|
|
"The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is to
|
|
identify the dead man. There should be no difficulty about
|
|
that. When we have found who he is and who his associates are,
|
|
we should have a good start in learning what he was doing in
|
|
Pitt Street last night, and who it was who met him and killed
|
|
him on the doorstep of Mr. Horace Harker. Don't you think so?"
|
|
|
|
"No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I should
|
|
approach the case."
|
|
|
|
"What would you do, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, you must not let me influence you in any way! I suggest
|
|
that you go on your line and I on mine. We can compare notes
|
|
afterwards, and each will supplement the other."
|
|
|
|
"Very good," said Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
"If you are going back to Pitt Street you might see Mr. Horace
|
|
Harker. Tell him from me that I have quite made up my mind,
|
|
and that it is certain that a dangerous homicidal lunatic with
|
|
Napoleonic delusions was in his house last night. It will be
|
|
useful for his article."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade stared.
|
|
|
|
"You don't seriously believe that?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes smiled.
|
|
|
|
"Don't I? Well, perhaps I don't. But I am sure that it will
|
|
interest Mr. Horace Harker and the subscribers of the Central
|
|
Press Syndicate. Now, Watson, I think that we shall find that
|
|
we have a long and rather complex day's work before us.
|
|
I should be glad, Lestrade, if you could make it convenient to
|
|
meet us at Baker Street at six o'clock this evening. Until then
|
|
I should like to keep this photograph found in the dead man's
|
|
pocket. It is possible that I may have to ask your company and
|
|
assistance upon a small expedition which will have be undertaken
|
|
to-night, if my chain of reasoning should prove to be correct.
|
|
Until then, good-bye and good luck!"
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the High Street, where
|
|
he stopped at the shop of Harding Brothers, whence the bust had
|
|
been purchased. A young assistant informed us that Mr. Harding
|
|
would be absent until after noon, and that he was himself a
|
|
newcomer who could give us no information. Holmes's face
|
|
showed his disappointment and annoyance.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, we can't expect to have it all our own way,
|
|
Watson," he said, at last. "We must come back in the afternoon
|
|
if Mr. Harding will not be here until then. I am, as you have
|
|
no doubt surmised, endeavouring to trace these busts to their
|
|
source, in order to find if there is not something peculiar
|
|
which may account for their remarkable fate. Let us make for
|
|
Mr. Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if he can
|
|
throw any light upon the problem."
|
|
|
|
A drive of an hour brought us to the picture-dealer's
|
|
establishment. He was a small, stout man with a red face
|
|
and a peppery manner.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. On my very counter, sir," said he. "What we pay
|
|
rates and taxes for I don't know, when any ruffian can come in
|
|
and break one's goods. Yes, sir, it was I who sold Dr. Barnicot
|
|
his two statues. Disgraceful, sir! A Nihilist plot, that's
|
|
what I make it. No one but an Anarchist would go about breaking
|
|
statues. Red republicans, that's what I call 'em. Who did I
|
|
get the statues from? I don't see what that has to do with it.
|
|
Well, if you really want to know, I got them from Gelder and Co.,
|
|
in Church Street, Stepney. They are a well-known house in the
|
|
trade, and have been this twenty years. How many had I?
|
|
Three -- two and one are three -- two of Dr. Barnicot's and one
|
|
smashed in broad daylight on my own counter. Do I know that
|
|
photograph? No, I don't. Yes, I do, though. Why, it's Beppo.
|
|
He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, who made himself useful
|
|
in the shop. He could carve a bit and gild and frame, and do
|
|
odd jobs. The fellow left me last week, and I've heard nothing
|
|
of him since. No, I don't know where he came from nor where he
|
|
went to. I have nothing against him while he was here. He was
|
|
gone two days before the bust was smashed."
|
|
|
|
"Well, that's all we could reasonably expect to get from Morse
|
|
Hudson," said Holmes, as we emerged from the shop. "We have this
|
|
Beppo as a common factor, both in Kennington and in Kensington,
|
|
so that is worth a ten-mile drive. Now, Watson, let us make
|
|
for Gelder and Co., of Stepney, the source and origin of busts.
|
|
I shall be surprised if we don't get some help down there."
|
|
|
|
In rapid succession we passed through the fringe of fashionable
|
|
London, hotel London, theatrical London, literary London,
|
|
commercial London, and, finally, maritime London, till we came
|
|
to a riverside city of a hundred thousand souls, where the
|
|
tenement houses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe.
|
|
Here, in a broad thoroughfare, once the abode of wealthy City
|
|
merchants, we found the sculpture works for which we searched.
|
|
Outside was a considerable yard full of monumental masonry.
|
|
Inside was a large room in which fifty workers were carving or
|
|
moulding. The manager, a big blond German, received us civilly,
|
|
and gave a clear answer to all Holmes's questions. A reference
|
|
to his books showed that hundreds of casts had been taken from
|
|
a marble copy of Devine's head of Napoleon, but that the three
|
|
which had been sent to Morse Hudson a year or so before had been
|
|
half of a batch of six, the other three being sent to Harding
|
|
Brothers, of Kensington. There was no reason why those six
|
|
should be different to any of the other casts. He could
|
|
suggest no possible cause why anyone should wish to destroy
|
|
them -- in fact, he laughed at the idea. Their wholesale price
|
|
was six shillings, but the retailer would get twelve or more.
|
|
The cast was taken in two moulds from each side of the face, and
|
|
then these two profiles of plaster of Paris were joined together
|
|
to make the complete bust. The work was usually done by
|
|
Italians in the room we were in. When finished the busts were
|
|
put on a table in the passage to dry, and afterwards stored.
|
|
That was all he could tell us.
|
|
|
|
But the production of the photograph had a remarkable effect
|
|
upon the manager. His face flushed with anger, and his brows
|
|
knotted over his blue Teutonic eyes.
|
|
|
|
"Ah, the rascal!" he cried. "Yes, indeed, I know him very well.
|
|
This has always been a respectable establishment, and the only
|
|
time that we have ever had the police in it was over this very
|
|
fellow. It was more than a year ago now. He knifed another
|
|
Italian in the street, and then he came to the works with the
|
|
police on his heels, and he was taken here. Beppo was his
|
|
name -- his second name I never knew. Serve me right for
|
|
engaging a man with such a face. But he was a good workman,
|
|
one of the best."
|
|
|
|
"What did he get?"
|
|
|
|
"The man lived and he got off with a year. I have no doubt he is
|
|
out now; but he has not dared to show his nose here. We have a
|
|
cousin of his here, and I dare say he could tell you where he is."
|
|
|
|
"No, no," cried Holmes, "not a word to the cousin -- not a word,
|
|
I beg you. The matter is very important, and the farther I go
|
|
with it the more important it seems to grow. When you referred
|
|
in your ledger to the sale of those casts I observed that the
|
|
date was June 3rd of last year. Could you give me the date when
|
|
Beppo was arrested?"
|
|
|
|
"I could tell you roughly by the pay-list," the manager
|
|
answered. "Yes," he continued, after some turning over of
|
|
pages, "he was paid last on May 20th."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you," said Holmes. "I don't think that I need intrude
|
|
upon your time and patience any more." With a last word of
|
|
caution that he should say nothing as to our researches we
|
|
turned our faces westward once more.
|
|
|
|
The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch
|
|
a hasty luncheon at a restaurant. A news-bill at the entrance
|
|
announced "Kensington Outrage. Murder by a Madman," and the
|
|
contents of the paper showed that Mr. Horace Harker had got his
|
|
account into print after all. Two columns were occupied with
|
|
a highly sensational and flowery rendering of the whole incident.
|
|
Holmes propped it against the cruet-stand and read it while he ate.
|
|
Once or twice he chuckled.
|
|
|
|
"This is all right, Watson," said he. "Listen to this:
|
|
`It is satisfactory to know that there can be no difference
|
|
of opinion upon this case, since Mr. Lestrade, one of the most
|
|
experienced members of the official force, and Mr. Sherlock
|
|
Holmes, the well-known consulting expert, have each come to the
|
|
conclusion that the grotesque series of incidents, which have
|
|
ended in so tragic a fashion, arise from lunacy rather than from
|
|
deliberate crime. No explanation save mental aberration can
|
|
cover the facts.' The Press, Watson, is a most valuable
|
|
institution if you only know how to use it. And now, if you
|
|
have quite finished, we will hark back to Kensington and see
|
|
what the manager of Harding Brothers has to say to the matter."
|
|
|
|
The founder of that great emporium proved to be a brisk,
|
|
crisp little person, very dapper and quick, with a clear head
|
|
and a ready tongue.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, I have already read the account in the evening
|
|
papers. Mr. Horace Harker is a customer of ours. We supplied
|
|
him with the bust some months ago. We ordered three busts of
|
|
that sort from Gelder and Co., of Stepney. They are all sold now.
|
|
To whom? Oh, I dare say by consulting our sales book we could
|
|
very easily tell you. Yes, we have the entries here. One to
|
|
Mr. Harker, you see, and one to Mr. Josiah Brown, of Laburnum
|
|
Lodge, Laburnum Vale, Chiswick, and one to Mr. Sandeford, of
|
|
Lower Grove Road, Reading. No, I have never seen this face
|
|
which you show me in the photograph. You would hardly forget
|
|
it, would you, sir, for I've seldom seen an uglier. Have we any
|
|
Italians on the staff? Yes, sir, we have several among our
|
|
workpeople and cleaners. I dare say they might get a peep at
|
|
that sales book if they wanted to. There is no particular
|
|
reason for keeping a watch upon that book. Well, well, it's a
|
|
very strange business, and I hope that you'll let me know if
|
|
anything comes of your inquiries."
|
|
|
|
Holmes had taken several notes during Mr. Harding's evidence,
|
|
and I could see that he was thoroughly satisfied by the turn
|
|
which affairs were taking. He made no remark, however, save
|
|
that, unless we hurried, we should be late for our appointment
|
|
with Lestrade. Sure enough, when we reached Baker Street the
|
|
detective was already there, and we found him pacing up and down
|
|
in a fever of impatience. His look of importance showed that
|
|
his day's work had not been in vain.
|
|
|
|
"Well?" he asked. "What luck, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"We have had a very busy day, and not entirely a wasted one,"
|
|
my friend explained. "We have seen both the retailers and also
|
|
the wholesale manufacturers. I can trace each of the busts now
|
|
from the beginning."
|
|
|
|
"The busts!" cried Lestrade. "Well, well, you have your own
|
|
methods, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and it is not for me to say a
|
|
word against them, but I think I have done a better day's work
|
|
than you. I have identified the dead man."
|
|
|
|
"You don't say so?"
|
|
|
|
"And found a cause for the crime."
|
|
|
|
"Splendid!"
|
|
|
|
"We have an inspector who makes a specialty of Saffron Hill and
|
|
the Italian quarter. Well, this dead man had some Catholic
|
|
emblem round his neck, and that, along with his colour, made me
|
|
think he was from the South. Inspector Hill knew him the moment
|
|
he caught sight of him. His name is Pietro Venucci, from Naples,
|
|
and he is one of the greatest cut-throats in London.
|
|
He is connected with the Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret
|
|
political society, enforcing its decrees by murder. Now you
|
|
see how the affair begins to clear up. The other fellow is
|
|
probably an Italian also, and a member of the Mafia. He has
|
|
broken the rules in some fashion. Pietro is set upon his track.
|
|
Probably the photograph we found in his pocket is the man
|
|
himself, so that he may not knife the wrong person. He dogs
|
|
the fellow, he sees him enter a house, he waits outside for him,
|
|
and in the scuffle he receives his own death-wound. How is that,
|
|
Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes clapped his hands approvingly.
|
|
|
|
"Excellent, Lestrade, excellent!" he cried. "But I didn't quite
|
|
follow your explanation of the destruction of the busts."
|
|
|
|
"The busts! You never can get those busts out of your head.
|
|
After all, that is nothing; petty larceny, six months at the most.
|
|
It is the murder that we are really investigating, and I tell
|
|
you that I am gathering all the threads into my hands."
|
|
|
|
"And the next stage?"
|
|
|
|
"Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the Italian
|
|
quarter, find the man whose photograph we have got, and arrest
|
|
him on the charge of murder. Will you come with us?"
|
|
|
|
"I think not. I fancy we can attain our end in a simpler way.
|
|
I can't say for certain, because it all depends -- well, it all
|
|
depends upon a factor which is completely outside our control.
|
|
But I have great hopes -- in fact, the betting is exactly two
|
|
to one -- that if you will come with us to-night I shall be able
|
|
to help you to lay him by the heels."
|
|
|
|
"In the Italian quarter?"
|
|
|
|
"No; I fancy Chiswick is an address which is more likely to find
|
|
him. If you will come with me to Chiswick to-night, Lestrade,
|
|
I'll promise to go to the Italian quarter with you to-morrow,
|
|
and no harm will be done by the delay. And now I think that a
|
|
few hours' sleep would do us all good, for I do not propose to
|
|
leave before eleven o'clock, and it is unlikely that we shall
|
|
be back before morning. You'll dine with us, Lestrade, and then
|
|
you are welcome to the sofa until it is time for us to start.
|
|
In the meantime, Watson, I should be glad if you would ring for
|
|
an express messenger, for I have a letter to send, and it is
|
|
important that it should go at once."
|
|
|
|
Holmes spent the evening in rummaging among the files of the
|
|
old daily papers with which one of our lumber-rooms was packed.
|
|
When at last he descended it was with triumph in his eyes,
|
|
but he said nothing to either of us as to the result of his
|
|
researches. For my own part, I had followed step by step the
|
|
methods by which he had traced the various windings of this
|
|
complex case, and, though I could not yet perceive the goal
|
|
which we would reach, I understood clearly that Holmes expected
|
|
this grotesque criminal to make an attempt upon the two
|
|
remaining busts, one of which, I remembered, was at Chiswick.
|
|
No doubt the object of our journey was to catch him in the very
|
|
act, and I could not but admire the cunning with which my friend
|
|
had inserted a wrong clue in the evening paper, so as to give
|
|
the fellow the idea that he could continue his scheme with
|
|
impunity. I was not surprised when Holmes suggested that
|
|
I should take my revolver with me. He had himself picked up
|
|
the loaded hunting-crop which was his favourite weapon.
|
|
|
|
A four-wheeler was at the door at eleven, and in it we drove to
|
|
a spot at the other side of Hammersmith Bridge. Here the cabman
|
|
was directed to wait. A short walk brought us to a secluded
|
|
road fringed with pleasant houses, each standing in its own
|
|
grounds. In the light of a street lamp we read "Laburnum Villa"
|
|
upon the gate-post of one of them. The occupants had evidently
|
|
retired to rest, for all was dark save for a fanlight over the
|
|
hall door, which shed a single blurred circle on to the garden
|
|
path. The wooden fence which separated the grounds from the
|
|
road threw a dense black shadow upon the inner side, and here
|
|
it was that we crouched.
|
|
|
|
"I fear that you'll have a long wait," Holmes whispered.
|
|
"We may thank our stars that it is not raining. I don't think we
|
|
can even venture to smoke to pass the time. However, it's a two
|
|
to one chance that we get something to pay us for our trouble."
|
|
|
|
It proved, however, that our vigil was not to be so long as
|
|
Holmes had led us to fear, and it ended in a very sudden and
|
|
singular fashion. In an instant, without the least sound to
|
|
warn us of his coming, the garden gate swung open, and a lithe,
|
|
dark figure, as swift and active as an ape, rushed up the garden
|
|
path. We saw it whisk past the light thrown from over the door
|
|
and disappear against the black shadow of the house. There was
|
|
a long pause, during which we held our breath, and then a very
|
|
gentle creaking sound came to our ears. The window was being
|
|
opened. The noise ceased, and again there was a long silence.
|
|
The fellow was making his way into the house. We saw the sudden
|
|
flash of a dark lantern inside the room. What he sought was
|
|
evidently not there, for again we saw the flash through another
|
|
blind, and then through another.
|
|
|
|
"Let us get to the open window. We will nab him as he climbs out,"
|
|
Lestrade whispered.
|
|
|
|
But before we could move the man had emerged again. As he came
|
|
out into the glimmering patch of light we saw that he carried
|
|
something white under his arm. He looked stealthily all round
|
|
him. The silence of the deserted street reassured him. Turning
|
|
his back upon us he laid down his burden, and the next instant
|
|
there was the sound of a sharp tap, followed by a clatter and
|
|
rattle. The man was so intent upon what he was doing that he
|
|
never heard our steps as we stole across the grass plot. With
|
|
the bound of a tiger Holmes was on his back, and an instant
|
|
later Lestrade and I had him by either wrist and the handcuffs
|
|
had been fastened. As we turned him over I saw a hideous,
|
|
sallow face, with writhing, furious features, glaring up at us,
|
|
and I knew that it was indeed the man of the photograph whom we
|
|
had secured.
|
|
|
|
But it was not our prisoner to whom Holmes was giving his
|
|
attention. Squatted on the doorstep, he was engaged in most
|
|
carefully examining that which the man had brought from the
|
|
house. It was a bust of Napoleon like the one which we had
|
|
seen that morning, and it had been broken into similar
|
|
fragments. Carefully Holmes held each separate shard to the
|
|
light, but in no way did it differ from any other shattered
|
|
piece of plaster. He had just completed his examination when
|
|
the hall lights flew up, the door opened, and the owner of the
|
|
house, a jovial, rotund figure in shirt and trousers, presented
|
|
himself.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Josiah Brown, I suppose?" said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; and you, no doubt, are Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I had
|
|
the note which you sent by the express messenger, and I did
|
|
exactly what you told me. We locked every door on the inside
|
|
and awaited developments. Well, I'm very glad to see that you
|
|
have got the rascal. I hope, gentlemen, that you will come in
|
|
and have some refreshment."
|
|
|
|
However, Lestrade was anxious to get his man into safe quarters,
|
|
so within a few minutes our cab had been summoned and we were
|
|
all four upon our way to London. Not a word would our captive
|
|
say; but he glared at us from the shadow of his matted hair, and
|
|
once, when my hand seemed within his reach, he snapped at it
|
|
like a hungry wolf. We stayed long enough at the police-station
|
|
to learn that a search of his clothing revealed nothing save a
|
|
few shillings and a long sheath knife, the handle of which bore
|
|
copious traces of recent blood.
|
|
|
|
"That's all right," said Lestrade, as we parted. "Hill knows
|
|
all these gentry, and he will give a name to him. You'll find
|
|
that my theory of the Mafia will work out all right. But I'm
|
|
sure I am exceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Holmes, for the
|
|
workmanlike way in which you laid hands upon him. I don't quite
|
|
understand it all yet."
|
|
|
|
"I fear it is rather too late an hour for explanations," said
|
|
Holmes. "Besides, there are one or two details which are not
|
|
finished off, and it is one of those cases which are worth
|
|
working out to the very end. If you will come round once more
|
|
to my rooms at six o'clock to-morrow I think I shall be able to
|
|
show you that even now you have not grasped the entire meaning
|
|
of this business, which presents some features which make it
|
|
absolutely original in the history of crime. If ever I permit
|
|
you to chronicle any more of my little problems, Watson,
|
|
I foresee that you will enliven your pages by an account of
|
|
the singular adventure of the Napoleonic busts."
|
|
|
|
|
|
When we met again next evening Lestrade was furnished with much
|
|
information concerning our prisoner. His name, it appeared, was
|
|
Beppo, second name unknown. He was a well-known ne'er-do-well
|
|
among the Italian colony. He had once been a skilful sculptor
|
|
and had earned an honest living, but he had taken to evil
|
|
courses and had twice already been in gaol -- once for a petty
|
|
theft and once, as we had already heard, for stabbing a
|
|
fellow-countryman. He could talk English perfectly well.
|
|
His reasons for destroying the busts were still unknown, and he
|
|
refused to answer any questions upon the subject; but the police
|
|
had discovered that these same busts might very well have been
|
|
made by his own hands, since he was engaged in this class of
|
|
work at the establishment of Gelder and Co. To all this
|
|
information, much of which we already knew, Holmes listened with
|
|
polite attention; but I, who knew him so well, could clearly see
|
|
that his thoughts were elsewhere, and I detected a mixture of
|
|
mingled uneasiness and expectation beneath that mask which he
|
|
was wont to assume. At last he started in his chair and his
|
|
eyes brightened. There had been a ring at the bell. A minute
|
|
later we heard steps upon the stairs, and an elderly, red-faced
|
|
man with grizzled side-whiskers was ushered in. In his right
|
|
hand he carried an old-fashioned carpet-bag, which he placed
|
|
upon the table.
|
|
|
|
"Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here?"
|
|
|
|
My friend bowed and smiled. "Mr. Sandeford, of Reading, I suppose?"
|
|
said he.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, I fear that I am a little late; but the trains were
|
|
awkward. You wrote to me about a bust that is in my possession."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly."
|
|
|
|
"I have your letter here. You said, `I desire to possess a copy
|
|
of Devine's Napoleon, and am prepared to pay you ten pounds for
|
|
the one which is in your possession.' Is that right?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly."
|
|
|
|
"I was very much surprised at your letter, for I could not
|
|
imagine how you knew that I owned such a thing."
|
|
|
|
"Of course you must have been surprised, but the explanation is
|
|
very simple. Mr. Harding, of Harding Brothers, said that they
|
|
had sold you their last copy, and he gave me your address."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, that was it, was it? Did he tell you what I paid for it?"
|
|
|
|
"No, he did not."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I am an honest man, though not a very rich one.
|
|
I only gave fifteen shillings for the bust, and I think
|
|
you ought to know that before I take ten pounds from you."
|
|
|
|
"I am sure the scruple does you honour, Mr. Sandeford.
|
|
But I have named that price, so I intend to stick to it."
|
|
|
|
"Well, it is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. I brought the
|
|
bust up with me, as you asked me to do. Here it is!" He opened
|
|
his bag, and at last we saw placed upon our table a complete
|
|
specimen of that bust which we had already seen more than once
|
|
in fragments.
|
|
|
|
Holmes took a paper from his pocket and laid a ten-pound note
|
|
upon the table.
|
|
|
|
"You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, in the presence
|
|
of these witnesses. It is simply to say that you transfer every
|
|
possible right that you ever had in the bust to me. I am a
|
|
methodical man, you see, and you never know what turn events
|
|
might take afterwards. Thank you, Mr. Sandeford; here is your
|
|
money, and I wish you a very good evening."
|
|
|
|
When our visitor had disappeared Sherlock Holmes's movements
|
|
were such as to rivet our attention. He began by taking a clean
|
|
white cloth from a drawer and laying it over the table. Then he
|
|
placed his newly-acquired bust in the centre of the cloth.
|
|
Finally, he picked up his hunting-crop and struck Napoleon a
|
|
sharp blow on the top of the head. The figure broke into
|
|
fragments, and Holmes bent eagerly over the shattered remains.
|
|
Next instant, with a loud shout of triumph, he held up one
|
|
splinter, in which a round, dark object was fixed like a plum
|
|
in a pudding.
|
|
|
|
"Gentlemen," he cried, "let me introduce you to the famous
|
|
black pearl of the Borgias."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade and I sat silent for a moment, and then, with a
|
|
spontaneous impulse, we both broke out clapping as at the
|
|
well-wrought crisis of a play. A flush of colour sprang to
|
|
Holmes's pale cheeks, and he bowed to us like the master
|
|
dramatist who receives the homage of his audience. It was at
|
|
such moments that for an instant he ceased to be a reasoning
|
|
machine, and betrayed his human love for admiration and
|
|
applause. The same singularly proud and reserved nature which
|
|
turned away with disdain from popular notoriety was capable
|
|
of being moved to its depths by spontaneous wonder and praise
|
|
from a friend.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, gentlemen," said he, "it is the most famous pearl
|
|
now existing in the world, and it has been my good fortune,
|
|
by a connected chain of inductive reasoning, to trace it from
|
|
the Prince of Colonna's bedroom at the Dacre Hotel, where it was
|
|
lost, to the interior of this, the last of the six busts of
|
|
Napoleon which were manufactured by Gelder and Co., of Stepney.
|
|
You will remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused by the
|
|
disappearance of this valuable jewel, and the vain efforts of the
|
|
London police to recover it. I was myself consulted upon the
|
|
case; but I was unable to throw any light upon it. Suspicion
|
|
fell upon the maid of the Princess, who was an Italian, and it
|
|
was proved that she had a brother in London, but we failed to
|
|
trace any connection between them. The maid's name was Lucretia
|
|
Venucci, and there is no doubt in my mind that this Pietro who
|
|
was murdered two nights ago was the brother. I have been
|
|
looking up the dates in the old files of the paper, and I find
|
|
that the disappearance of the pearl was exactly two days before
|
|
the arrest of Beppo for some crime of violence, an event which
|
|
took place in the factory of Gelder and Co., at the very moment
|
|
when these busts were being made. Now you clearly see the
|
|
sequence of events, though you see them, of course, in the
|
|
inverse order to the way in which they presented themselves to
|
|
me. Beppo had the pearl in his possession. He may have stolen
|
|
it from Pietro, he may have been Pietro's confederate, he may
|
|
have been the go-between of Pietro and his sister. It is of no
|
|
consequence to us which is the correct solution.
|
|
|
|
"The main fact is that he HAD the pearl, and at that moment,
|
|
when it was on his person, he was pursued by the police.
|
|
He made for the factory in which he worked, and he knew that
|
|
he had only a few minutes in which to conceal this enormously
|
|
valuable prize, which would otherwise be found on him when he
|
|
was searched. Six plaster casts of Napoleon were drying in
|
|
the passage. One of them was still soft. In an instant Beppo,
|
|
a skilful workman, made a small hole in the wet plaster, dropped
|
|
in the pearl, and with a few touches covered over the aperture
|
|
once more. It was an admirable hiding-place. No one could
|
|
possibly find it. But Beppo was condemned to a year's
|
|
imprisonment, and in the meanwhile his six busts were scattered
|
|
over London. He could not tell which contained his treasure.
|
|
Only by breaking them could he see. Even shaking would tell him
|
|
nothing, for as the plaster was wet it was probable that the
|
|
pearl would adhere to it -- as, in fact, it has done. Beppo did
|
|
not despair, and he conducted his search with considerable
|
|
ingenuity and perseverance. Through a cousin who works with
|
|
Gelder he found out the retail firms who had bought the busts.
|
|
He managed to find employment with Morse Hudson, and in that
|
|
way tracked down three of them. The pearl was not there.
|
|
Then, with the help of some Italian EMPLOYE, he succeeded in
|
|
finding out where the other three busts had gone. The first was
|
|
at Harker's. There he was dogged by his confederate, who held
|
|
Beppo responsible for the loss of the pearl, and he stabbed him
|
|
in the scuffle which followed."
|
|
|
|
"If he was his confederate why should he carry his photograph?"
|
|
I asked.
|
|
|
|
"As a means of tracing him if he wished to inquire about him
|
|
from any third person. That was the obvious reason. Well,
|
|
after the murder I calculated that Beppo would probably hurry
|
|
rather than delay his movements. He would fear that the police
|
|
would read his secret, and so he hastened on before they should
|
|
get ahead of him. Of course, I could not say that he had not
|
|
found the pearl in Harker's bust. I had not even concluded for
|
|
certain that it was the pearl; but it was evident to me that he
|
|
was looking for something, since he carried the bust past the
|
|
other houses in order to break it in the garden which had a lamp
|
|
overlooking it. Since Harker's bust was one in three the
|
|
chances were exactly as I told you, two to one against the pearl
|
|
being inside it. There remained two busts, and it was obvious
|
|
that he would go for the London one first. I warned the inmates
|
|
of the house, so as to avoid a second tragedy, and we went down
|
|
with the happiest results. By that time, of course, I knew
|
|
for certain that it was the Borgia pearl that we were after.
|
|
The name of the murdered man linked the one event with the other.
|
|
There only remained a single bust -- the Reading one -- and the
|
|
pearl must be there. I bought it in your presence from the
|
|
owner -- and there it lies."
|
|
|
|
We sat in silence for a moment.
|
|
|
|
"Well," said Lestrade, "I've seen you handle a good many cases,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, but I don't know that I ever knew a more workmanlike
|
|
one than that. We're not jealous of you at Scotland Yard.
|
|
No, sir, we are very proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow
|
|
there's not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest
|
|
constable, who wouldn't be glad to shake you by the hand."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you!" said Holmes. "Thank you!" and as he turned away
|
|
it seemed to me that he was more nearly moved by the softer
|
|
human emotions than I had ever seen him. A moment later he was
|
|
the cold and practical thinker once more. "Put the pearl in the
|
|
safe, Watson," said he, "and get out the papers of the
|
|
Conk-Singleton forgery case. Good-bye, Lestrade. If any little
|
|
problem comes your way I shall be happy, if I can, to give you
|
|
a hint or two as to its solution."
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 27 JUNE, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
IX. -- The Adventure of the Three Students.
|
|
|
|
|
|
IT was in the year '95 that a combination of events, into which
|
|
I need not enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend
|
|
some weeks in one of our great University towns, and it was
|
|
during this time that the small but instructive adventure which
|
|
I am about to relate befell us. It will be obvious that any
|
|
details which would help the reader to exactly identify the
|
|
college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive.
|
|
So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due
|
|
discretion the incident itself may, however, be described, since
|
|
it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my
|
|
friend was remarkable. I will endeavour in my statement to avoid
|
|
such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular
|
|
place, or give a clue as to the people concerned.
|
|
|
|
We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a
|
|
library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious
|
|
researches in early English charters -- researches which led to
|
|
results so striking that they may be the subject of one of my
|
|
future narratives. Here it was that one evening we received a
|
|
visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer
|
|
at the College of St. Luke's. Mr. Soames was a tall, spare man,
|
|
of a nervous and excitable temperament. I had always known him
|
|
to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he
|
|
was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear
|
|
something very unusual had occurred.
|
|
|
|
"I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your
|
|
valuable time. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's,
|
|
and really, but for the happy chance of your being in the town,
|
|
I should have been at a loss what to do."
|
|
|
|
"I am very busy just now, and I desire no distractions,"
|
|
my friend answered. "I should much prefer that you called
|
|
in the aid of the police."
|
|
|
|
"No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible.
|
|
When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this
|
|
is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college,
|
|
it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as
|
|
well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world
|
|
who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to do what you can."
|
|
|
|
My friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived
|
|
of the congenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his
|
|
scrap-books, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was
|
|
an uncomfortable man. He shrugged his shoulders in ungracious
|
|
acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words and with much
|
|
excitable gesticulation poured forth his story.
|
|
|
|
"I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to-morrow is the first
|
|
day of the examination for the Fortescue Scholarship. I am one
|
|
of the examiners. My subject is Greek, and the first of the
|
|
papers consists of a large passage of Greek translation which
|
|
the candidate has not seen. This passage is printed on the
|
|
examination paper, and it would naturally be an immense advantage
|
|
if the candidate could prepare it in advance. For this reason
|
|
great care is taken to keep the paper secret.
|
|
|
|
"To-day about three o'clock the proofs of this paper arrived
|
|
from the printers. The exercise consists of half a chapter of
|
|
Thucydides. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must
|
|
be absolutely correct. At four-thirty my task was not yet
|
|
completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's
|
|
rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather
|
|
more than an hour.
|
|
|
|
"You are aware, Mr. Holmes, that our college doors are double
|
|
-- a green baize one within and a heavy oak one without.
|
|
As I approached my outer door I was amazed to see a key in it.
|
|
For an instant I imagined that I had left my own there, but on
|
|
feeling in my pocket I found that it was all right. The only
|
|
duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged
|
|
to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my room
|
|
for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion.
|
|
I found that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room
|
|
to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left
|
|
the key in the door when he came out. His visit to my room
|
|
must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it.
|
|
His forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little
|
|
upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has produced
|
|
the most deplorable consequences.
|
|
|
|
"The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had
|
|
rummaged among my papers. The proof was in three long slips.
|
|
I had left them all together. Now, I found that one of them was
|
|
lying on the floor, one was on the side table near the window,
|
|
and the third was where I had left it."
|
|
|
|
Holmes stirred for the first time.
|
|
|
|
"The first page on the floor, the second in the window,
|
|
the third where you left it," said he.
|
|
|
|
"Exactly, Mr. Holmes. You amaze me. How could you possibly
|
|
know that?"
|
|
|
|
"Pray continue your very interesting statement."
|
|
|
|
"For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the
|
|
unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He denied it,
|
|
however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that
|
|
he was speaking the truth. The alternative was that someone
|
|
passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was
|
|
out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money
|
|
is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an
|
|
unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an
|
|
advantage over his fellows.
|
|
|
|
"Bannister was very much upset by the incident. He had nearly
|
|
fainted when we found that the papers had undoubtedly been
|
|
tampered with. I gave him a little brandy and left him collapsed
|
|
in a chair while I made a most careful examination of the room.
|
|
I soon saw that the intruder had left other traces of his
|
|
presence besides the rumpled papers. On the table in the window
|
|
were several shreds from a pencil which had been sharpened.
|
|
A broken tip of lead was lying there also. Evidently the rascal
|
|
had copied the paper in a great hurry, had broken his pencil,
|
|
and had been compelled to put a fresh point to it."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent!" said Holmes, who was recovering his good-humour
|
|
as his attention became more engrossed by the case.
|
|
"Fortune has been your friend."
|
|
|
|
"This was not all. I have a new writing-table with a fine
|
|
surface of red leather. I am prepared to swear, and so is
|
|
Bannister, that it was smooth and unstained. Now I found a
|
|
clean cut in it about three inches long -- not a mere scratch,
|
|
but a positive cut. Not only this, but on the table I found
|
|
a small ball of black dough, or clay, with specks of something
|
|
which looks like sawdust in it. I am convinced that these marks
|
|
were left by the man who rifled the papers. There were no footmarks
|
|
and no other evidence as to his identity. I was at my wits'
|
|
ends, when suddenly the happy thought occurred to me that you
|
|
were in the town, and I came straight round to put the matter
|
|
into your hands. Do help me, Mr. Holmes! You see my dilemma.
|
|
Either I must find the man or else the examination must be
|
|
postponed until fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot
|
|
be done without explanation there will ensue a hideous scandal,
|
|
which will throw a cloud not only on the college, but on the
|
|
University. Above all things I desire to settle the matter
|
|
quietly and discreetly."
|
|
|
|
"I shall be happy to look into it and to give you such advice
|
|
as I can," said Holmes, rising and putting on his overcoat.
|
|
"The case is not entirely devoid of interest. Had anyone visited
|
|
you in your room after the papers came to you?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; young Daulat Ras, an Indian student who lives on the same
|
|
stair, came in to ask me some particulars about the examination."
|
|
|
|
"For which he was entered?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
|
|
"And the papers were on your table?"
|
|
|
|
"To the best of my belief they were rolled up."
|
|
|
|
"But might be recognised as proofs?"
|
|
|
|
"Possibly."
|
|
|
|
"No one else in your room?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"Did anyone know that these proofs would be there?"
|
|
|
|
"No one save the printer."
|
|
|
|
"Did this man Bannister know?"
|
|
|
|
"No, certainly not. No one knew."
|
|
|
|
"Where is Bannister now?"
|
|
|
|
"He was very ill, poor fellow. I left him collapsed
|
|
in the chair. I was in such a hurry to come to you."
|
|
|
|
"You left your door open?"
|
|
|
|
"I locked up the papers first."
|
|
|
|
"Then it amounts to this, Mr. Soames, that unless the Indian
|
|
student recognised the roll as being proofs, the man who tampered
|
|
with them came upon them accidentally without knowing that they
|
|
were there."
|
|
|
|
"So it seems to me."
|
|
|
|
Holmes gave an enigmatic smile.
|
|
|
|
"Well," said he, "let us go round. Not one of your cases,
|
|
Watson -- mental, not physical. All right; come if you want to.
|
|
Now, Mr. Soames -- at your disposal!"
|
|
|
|
|
|
The sitting-room of our client opened by a long, low, latticed
|
|
window on to the ancient lichen-tinted court of the old college.
|
|
A Gothic arched door led to a worn stone staircase. On the
|
|
ground floor was the tutor's room. Above were three students,
|
|
one on each story. It was already twilight when we reached the
|
|
scene of our problem. Holmes halted and looked earnestly at the
|
|
window. Then he approached it, and, standing on tiptoe with his
|
|
neck craned, he looked into the room.
|
|
|
|
"He must have entered through the door. There is no opening
|
|
except the one pane," said our learned guide.
|
|
|
|
"Dear me!" said Holmes, and he smiled in a singular way as he
|
|
glanced at our companion. "Well, if there is nothing to be
|
|
learned here we had best go inside."
|
|
|
|
The lecturer unlocked the outer door and ushered us into his
|
|
room. We stood at the entrance while Holmes made an examination
|
|
of the carpet.
|
|
|
|
"I am afraid there are no signs here," said he. "One could
|
|
hardly hope for any upon so dry a day. Your servant seems to
|
|
have quite recovered. You left him in a chair, you say; which
|
|
chair?"
|
|
|
|
"By the window there."
|
|
|
|
"I see. Near this little table. You can come in now. I have
|
|
finished with the carpet. Let us take the little table first.
|
|
Of course, what has happened is very clear. The man entered
|
|
and took the papers, sheet by sheet, from the central table.
|
|
He carried them over to the window table, because from there he
|
|
could see if you came across the courtyard, and so could effect
|
|
an escape."
|
|
|
|
"As a matter of fact he could not," said Soames, "for I entered
|
|
by the side door."
|
|
|
|
"Ah, that's good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Let me
|
|
see the three strips. No finger impressions -- no! Well, he
|
|
carried over this one first and he copied it. How long would it
|
|
take him to do that, using every possible contraction? A quarter
|
|
of an hour, not less. Then he tossed it down and seized the
|
|
next. He was in the midst of that when your return caused him
|
|
to make a very hurried retreat -- VERY hurried, since he had not
|
|
time to replace the papers which would tell you that he had been
|
|
there. You were not aware of any hurrying feet on the stair as
|
|
you entered the outer door?"
|
|
|
|
"No, I can't say I was."
|
|
|
|
"Well, he wrote so furiously that he broke his pencil, and had,
|
|
as you observe, to sharpen it again. This is of interest,
|
|
Watson. The pencil was not an ordinary one. It was above the
|
|
usual size, with a soft lead; the outer colour was dark blue,
|
|
the maker's name was printed in silver lettering, and the piece
|
|
remaining is only about an inch and a half long. Look for such a
|
|
pencil, Mr. Soames, and you have got your man. When I add that he
|
|
possesses a large and very blunt knife, you have an additional aid."
|
|
|
|
Mr. Soames was somewhat overwhelmed by this flood of information.
|
|
"I can follow the other points," said he, "but really, in this
|
|
matter of the length ----"
|
|
|
|
Holmes held out a small chip with the letters NN and a space of
|
|
clear wood after them.
|
|
|
|
"You see?"
|
|
|
|
"No, I fear that even now ----"
|
|
|
|
"Watson, I have always done you an injustice. There are others.
|
|
What could this NN be? It is at the end of a word.
|
|
You are aware that Johann Faber is the most common maker's name.
|
|
Is it not clear that there is just as much of the pencil left
|
|
as usually follows the Johann?" He held the small table sideways
|
|
to the electric light. "I was hoping that if the paper on which
|
|
he wrote was thin some trace of it might come through upon this
|
|
polished surface. No, I see nothing. I don't think there is
|
|
anything more to be learned here. Now for the central table.
|
|
This small pellet is, I presume, the black, doughy mass you spoke
|
|
of. Roughly pyramidal in shape and hollowed out, I perceive.
|
|
As you say, there appear to be grains of sawdust in it. Dear me,
|
|
this is very interesting. And the cut -- a positive tear, I see.
|
|
It began with a thin scratch and ended in a jagged hole. I am
|
|
much indebted to you for directing my attention to this case,
|
|
Mr. Soames. Where does that door lead to?"
|
|
|
|
"To my bedroom."
|
|
|
|
"Have you been in it since your adventure?"
|
|
|
|
"No; I came straight away for you."
|
|
|
|
"I should like to have a glance round. What a charming,
|
|
old-fashioned room! Perhaps you will kindly wait a minute until
|
|
I have examined the floor. No, I see nothing. What about this
|
|
curtain? You hang your clothes behind it. If anyone were forced
|
|
to conceal himself in this room he must do it there, since the
|
|
bed is too low and the wardrobe too shallow. No one there,
|
|
I suppose?"
|
|
|
|
As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from some little
|
|
rigidity and alertness of his attitude, that he was prepared for
|
|
an emergency. As a matter of fact the drawn curtain disclosed
|
|
nothing but three or four suits of clothes hanging from a line
|
|
of pegs. Holmes turned away and stooped suddenly to the floor.
|
|
|
|
"Halloa! What's this?" said he.
|
|
|
|
It was a small pyramid of black, putty-like stuff, exactly like
|
|
the one upon the table of the study. Holmes held it out on his
|
|
open palm in the glare of the electric light.
|
|
|
|
"Your visitor seems to have left traces in your bedroom as well
|
|
as in your sitting-room, Mr. Soames."
|
|
|
|
"What could he have wanted there?"
|
|
|
|
"I think it is clear enough. You came back by an unexpected
|
|
way, and so he had no warning until you were at the very door.
|
|
What could he do? He caught up everything which would betray
|
|
him and he rushed into your bedroom to conceal himself."
|
|
|
|
"Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, do you mean to tell me that all the
|
|
time I was talking to Bannister in this room we had the man
|
|
prisoner if we had only known it?"
|
|
|
|
"So I read it."
|
|
|
|
"Surely there is another alternative, Mr. Holmes. I don't know
|
|
whether you observed my bedroom window?"
|
|
|
|
"Lattice-paned, lead framework, three separate windows,
|
|
one swinging on hinge and large enough to admit a man."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. And it looks out on an angle of the courtyard
|
|
so as to be partly invisible. The man might have effected his
|
|
entrance there, left traces as he passed through the bedroom,
|
|
and, finally, finding the door open have escaped that way."
|
|
|
|
Holmes shook his head impatiently.
|
|
|
|
"Let us be practical," said he. "I understand you to say
|
|
that there are three students who use this stair and are
|
|
in the habit of passing your door?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, there are."
|
|
|
|
"And they are all in for this examination?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
|
|
"Have you any reason to suspect any one of them more than
|
|
the others?"
|
|
|
|
Soames hesitated.
|
|
|
|
"It is a very delicate question," said he. "One hardly likes
|
|
to throw suspicion where there are no proofs."
|
|
|
|
"Let us hear the suspicions. I will look after the proofs."
|
|
|
|
"I will tell you, then, in a few words the character of the
|
|
three men who inhabit these rooms. The lower of the three is
|
|
Gilchrist, a fine scholar and athlete; plays in the Rugby team
|
|
and the cricket team for the college, and got his Blue for the
|
|
hurdles and the long jump. He is a fine, manly fellow. His
|
|
father was the notorious Sir Jabez Gilchrist, who ruined himself
|
|
on the turf. My scholar has been left very poor, but he is
|
|
hard-working and industrious. He will do well.
|
|
|
|
"The second floor is inhabited by Daulat Ras, the Indian.
|
|
He is a quiet, inscrutable fellow, as most of those Indians are.
|
|
He is well up in his work, though his Greek is his weak subject.
|
|
He is steady and methodical.
|
|
|
|
"The top floor belongs to Miles McLaren. He is a brilliant
|
|
fellow when he chooses to work -- one of the brightest
|
|
intellects of the University, but he is wayward, dissipated,
|
|
and unprincipled. He was nearly expelled over a card scandal
|
|
in his first year. He has been idling all this term, and he
|
|
must look forward with dread to the examination."
|
|
|
|
"Then it is he whom you suspect?"
|
|
|
|
"I dare not go so far as that. But of the three he is perhaps
|
|
the least unlikely."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. Now, Mr. Soames, let us have a look at your servant,
|
|
Bannister."
|
|
|
|
He was a little, white-faced, clean-shaven, grizzly-haired
|
|
fellow of fifty. He was still suffering from this sudden
|
|
disturbance of the quiet routine of his life. His plump face
|
|
was twitching with his nervousness, and his fingers could not
|
|
keep still.
|
|
|
|
"We are investigating this unhappy business, Bannister,"
|
|
said his master.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"I understand," said Holmes, "that you left your key in the door?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Was it not very extraordinary that you should do this on the
|
|
very day when there were these papers inside?"
|
|
|
|
"It was most unfortunate, sir. But I have occasionally done
|
|
the same thing at other times."
|
|
|
|
"When did you enter the room?"
|
|
|
|
"It was about half-past four. That is Mr. Soames's tea time."
|
|
|
|
"How long did you stay?"
|
|
|
|
"When I saw that he was absent I withdrew at once."
|
|
|
|
"Did you look at these papers on the table?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"How came you to leave the key in the door?"
|
|
|
|
"I had the tea-tray in my hand. I thought I would come back
|
|
for the key. Then I forgot."
|
|
|
|
"Has the outer door a spring lock?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Then it was open all the time?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Anyone in the room could get out?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"When Mr. Soames returned and called for you, you were very
|
|
much disturbed?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. Such a thing has never happened during the many
|
|
years that I have been here. I nearly fainted, sir."
|
|
|
|
"So I understand. Where were you when you began to feel bad?"
|
|
|
|
"Where was I, sir? Why, here, near the door."
|
|
|
|
"That is singular, because you sat down in that chair over
|
|
yonder near the corner. Why did you pass these other chairs?"
|
|
|
|
"I don't know, sir. It didn't matter to me where I sat."
|
|
|
|
"I really don't think he knew much about it, Mr. Holmes.
|
|
He was looking very bad -- quite ghastly."
|
|
|
|
"You stayed here when your master left?"
|
|
|
|
"Only for a minute or so. Then I locked the door and went
|
|
to my room."
|
|
|
|
"Whom do you suspect?"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, I would not venture to say, sir. I don't believe there
|
|
is any gentleman in this University who is capable of profiting
|
|
by such an action. No, sir, I'll not believe it."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you; that will do," said Holmes. "Oh, one more word.
|
|
You have not mentioned to any of the three gentlemen whom you
|
|
attend that anything is amiss?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; not a word."
|
|
|
|
"You haven't seen any of them?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Very good. Now, Mr. Soames, we will take a walk in the
|
|
quadrangle, if you please."
|
|
|
|
Three yellow squares of light shone above us in the gathering
|
|
gloom."
|
|
|
|
"Your three birds are all in their nests," said Holmes, looking up.
|
|
"Halloa! What's that? One of them seems restless enough."
|
|
|
|
It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly
|
|
upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room.
|
|
|
|
"I should like to have a peep at each of them," said Holmes.
|
|
"Is it possible?"
|
|
|
|
"No difficulty in the world," Soames answered. "This set of
|
|
rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual
|
|
for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I will personally
|
|
conduct you."
|
|
|
|
"No names, please!" said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's
|
|
door. A tall, flaxen-haired, slim young fellow opened it, and
|
|
made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some
|
|
really curious pieces of mediaeval domestic architecture within.
|
|
Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on
|
|
drawing it on his note-book, broke his pencil, had to borrow one
|
|
from our host, and finally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own.
|
|
The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the
|
|
Indian -- a silent, little, hook-nosed fellow, who eyed us
|
|
askance and was obviously glad when Holmes's architectural
|
|
studies had come to an end. I could not see that in either
|
|
case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was searching.
|
|
Only at the third did our visit prove abortive. The outer door
|
|
would not open to our knock, and nothing more substantial than
|
|
a torrent of bad language came from behind it. "I don't care
|
|
who you are. You can go to blazes!" roared the angry voice.
|
|
"To-morrow's the exam, and I won't be drawn by anyone."
|
|
|
|
"A rude fellow," said our guide, flushing with anger as we
|
|
withdrew down the stair. "Of course, he did not realize that it
|
|
was I who was knocking, but none the less his conduct was very
|
|
uncourteous, and, indeed, under the circumstances rather
|
|
suspicious."
|
|
|
|
Holmes's response was a curious one.
|
|
|
|
"Can you tell me his exact height?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller
|
|
than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot
|
|
six would be about it."
|
|
|
|
"That is very important," said Holmes. "And now, Mr. Soames,
|
|
I wish you good-night."
|
|
|
|
Our guide cried aloud in his astonishment and dismay. "Good
|
|
gracious, Mr. Holmes, you are surely not going to leave me in
|
|
this abrupt fashion! You don't seem to realize the position.
|
|
To-morrow is the examination. I must take some definite action
|
|
to-night. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of
|
|
the papers has been tampered with. The situation must be faced."
|
|
|
|
"You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to-morrow
|
|
morning and chat the matter over. It is possible that I may
|
|
be in a position then to indicate some course of action.
|
|
Meanwhile you change nothing -- nothing at all."
|
|
|
|
"Very good, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"You can be perfectly easy in your mind. We shall certainly
|
|
find some way out of your difficulties. I will take the black
|
|
clay with me, also the pencil cuttings. Good-bye."
|
|
|
|
When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle we again
|
|
looked up at the windows. The Indian still paced his room.
|
|
The others were invisible.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" Holmes asked, as we
|
|
came out into the main street. "Quite a little parlour game --
|
|
sort of three-card trick, is it not? There are your three men.
|
|
It must be one of them. You take your choice. Which is yours?"
|
|
|
|
"The foul-mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the
|
|
worst record. And yet that Indian was a sly fellow also.
|
|
Why should he be pacing his room all the time?"
|
|
|
|
"There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying
|
|
to learn anything by heart."
|
|
|
|
"He looked at us in a queer way."
|
|
|
|
"So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you
|
|
were preparing for an examination next day, and every moment was
|
|
of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives
|
|
-- all was satisfactory. But that fellow DOES puzzle me."
|
|
|
|
"Who?"
|
|
|
|
"Why, Bannister, the servant. What's his game in the matter?"
|
|
|
|
"He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man."
|
|
|
|
"So he did me. That's the puzzling part. Why should a
|
|
perfectly honest man -- well, well, here's a large stationer's.
|
|
We shall begin our researches here."
|
|
|
|
There were only four stationers of any consequence in the town,
|
|
and at each Holmes produced his pencil chips and bid high for a
|
|
duplicate. All were agreed that one could be ordered, but that
|
|
it was not a usual size of pencil and that it was seldom kept in
|
|
stock. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure,
|
|
but shrugged his shoulders in half-humorous resignation.
|
|
|
|
"No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue,
|
|
has run to nothing. But, indeed, I have little doubt that we can
|
|
build up a sufficient case without it. By Jove! my dear fellow,
|
|
it is nearly nine, and the landlady babbled of green peas at
|
|
seven-thirty. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your
|
|
irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit
|
|
and that I shall share your downfall -- not, however, before we
|
|
have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless
|
|
servant, and the three enterprising students."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Holmes made no further allusion to the matter that day, though
|
|
he sat lost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner.
|
|
At eight in the morning he came into my room just as I finished
|
|
my toilet.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Watson," said he, "it is time we went down to St. Luke's.
|
|
Can you do without breakfast?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly."
|
|
|
|
"Soames will be in a dreadful fidget until we are able to tell
|
|
him something positive."
|
|
|
|
"Have you anything positive to tell him?"
|
|
|
|
"I think so."
|
|
|
|
"You have formed a conclusion?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, my dear Watson; I have solved the mystery."
|
|
|
|
"But what fresh evidence could you have got?"
|
|
|
|
"Aha! It is not for nothing that I have turned myself out
|
|
of bed at the untimely hour of six. I have put in two hours'
|
|
hard work and covered at least five miles, with something
|
|
to show for it. Look at that!"
|
|
|
|
He held out his hand. On the palm were three little pyramids
|
|
of black, doughy clay.
|
|
|
|
"Why, Holmes, you had only two yesterday!"
|
|
|
|
"And one more this morning. It is a fair argument that wherever
|
|
No. 3 came from is also the source of Nos. 1 and 2. Eh, Watson?
|
|
Well, come along and put friend Soames out of his pain."
|
|
|
|
|
|
The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable
|
|
agitation when we found him in his chambers. In a few hours the
|
|
examination would commence, and he was still in the dilemma
|
|
between making the facts public and allowing the culprit to
|
|
compete for the valuable scholarship. He could hardly stand
|
|
still, so great was his mental agitation, and he ran towards
|
|
Holmes with two eager hands outstretched.
|
|
|
|
"Thank Heaven that you have come! I feared that you had given it
|
|
up in despair. What am I to do? Shall the examination proceed?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; let it proceed by all means."
|
|
|
|
"But this rascal ----?"
|
|
|
|
"He shall not compete."
|
|
|
|
"You know him?"
|
|
|
|
"I think so. If this matter is not to become public we must
|
|
give ourselves certain powers, and resolve ourselves into a small
|
|
private court-martial. You there, if you please, Soames! Watson,
|
|
you here! I'll take the arm-chair in the middle. I think that
|
|
we are now sufficiently imposing to strike terror into a guilty
|
|
breast. Kindly ring the bell!"
|
|
|
|
Bannister entered, and shrunk back in evident surprise and fear
|
|
at our judicial appearance.
|
|
|
|
"You will kindly close the door," said Holmes. "Now, Bannister,
|
|
will you please tell us the truth about yesterday's incident?"
|
|
|
|
The man turned white to the roots of his hair.
|
|
|
|
"I have told you everything, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Nothing to add?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing at all, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Well, then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you sat
|
|
down on that chair yesterday, did you do so in order to conceal
|
|
some object which would have shown who had been in the room?"
|
|
|
|
Bannister's face was ghastly.
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"It is only a suggestion," said Holmes, suavely. "I frankly
|
|
admit that I am unable to prove it. But it seems probable
|
|
enough, since the moment that Mr. Soames's back was turned
|
|
you released the man who was hiding in that bedroom."
|
|
|
|
Bannister licked his dry lips.
|
|
|
|
"There was no man, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Ah, that's a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have spoken
|
|
the truth, but now I know that you have lied."
|
|
|
|
The man's face set in sullen defiance.
|
|
|
|
"There was no man, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Come, come, Bannister!"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; there was no one."
|
|
|
|
"In that case you can give us no further information.
|
|
Would you please remain in the room? Stand over there near
|
|
the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I am going to ask you to have
|
|
the great kindness to go up to the room of young Gilchrist,
|
|
and to ask him to step down into yours."
|
|
|
|
An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the
|
|
student. He was a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe, and agile,
|
|
with a springy step and a pleasant, open face. His troubled blue
|
|
eyes glanced at each of us, and finally rested with an expression
|
|
of blank dismay upon Bannister in the farther corner.
|
|
|
|
"Just close the door," said Holmes. "Now, Mr. Gilchrist,
|
|
we are all quite alone here, and no one need ever know one word
|
|
of what passes between us. We can be perfectly frank with each
|
|
other. We want to know, Mr. Gilchrist, how you, an honourable
|
|
man, ever came to commit such an action as that of yesterday?"
|
|
|
|
The unfortunate young man staggered back and cast a look full
|
|
of horror and reproach at Bannister.
|
|
|
|
"No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir; I never said a word -- never one
|
|
word!" cried the servant.
|
|
|
|
"No, but you have now," said Holmes. "Now, sir, you must
|
|
see that after Bannister's words your position is hopeless,
|
|
and that your only chance lies in a frank confession."
|
|
|
|
For a moment Gilchrist, with upraised hand, tried to control
|
|
his writhing features. The next he had thrown himself on his
|
|
knees beside the table and, burying his face in his hands,
|
|
he had burst into a storm of passionate sobbing.
|
|
|
|
"Come, come," said Holmes, kindly; "it is human to err,
|
|
and at least no one can accuse you of being a callous criminal.
|
|
Perhaps it would be easier for you if I were to tell Mr. Soames
|
|
what occurred, and you can check me where I am wrong. Shall I
|
|
do so? Well, well, don't trouble to answer. Listen, and see
|
|
that I do you no injustice.
|
|
|
|
"From the moment, Mr. Soames, that you said to me that no one,
|
|
not even Bannister, could have told that the papers were in
|
|
your room, the case began to take a definite shape in my mind.
|
|
The printer one could, of course, dismiss. He could examine the
|
|
papers in his own office. The Indian I also thought nothing of.
|
|
If the proofs were in a roll he could not possibly know what they
|
|
were. On the other hand, it seemed an unthinkable coincidence
|
|
that a man should dare to enter the room, and that by chance on
|
|
that very day the papers were on the table. I dismissed that.
|
|
The man who entered knew that the papers were there. How did
|
|
he know?
|
|
|
|
"When I approached your room I examined the window. You amused
|
|
me by supposing that I was contemplating the possibility of
|
|
someone having in broad daylight, under the eyes of all these
|
|
opposite rooms, forced himself through it. Such an idea was
|
|
absurd. I was measuring how tall a man would need to be in order
|
|
to see as he passed what papers were on the central table. I am
|
|
six feet high, and I could do it with an effort. No one less
|
|
than that would have a chance. Already you see I had reason to
|
|
think that if one of your three students was a man of unusual
|
|
height he was the most worth watching of the three.
|
|
|
|
"I entered and I took you into my confidence as to the
|
|
suggestions of the side table. Of the centre table I could make
|
|
nothing, until in your description of Gilchrist you mentioned
|
|
that he was a long-distance jumper. Then the whole thing came to
|
|
me in an instant, and I only needed certain corroborative proofs,
|
|
which I speedily obtained.
|
|
|
|
"What happened was this. This young fellow had employed his
|
|
afternoon at the athletic grounds, where he had been practising
|
|
the jump. He returned carrying his jumping shoes, which are
|
|
provided, as you are aware, with several sharp spikes. As he
|
|
passed your window he saw, by means of his great height, these
|
|
proofs upon your table, and conjectured what they were. No harm
|
|
would have been done had it not been that as he passed your door
|
|
he perceived the key which had been left by the carelessness of
|
|
your servant. A sudden impulse came over him to enter and see
|
|
if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerous exploit,
|
|
for he could always pretend that he had simply looked in to ask
|
|
a question.
|
|
|
|
"Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was
|
|
then that he yielded to temptation. He put his shoes on the
|
|
table. What was it you put on that chair near the window?"
|
|
|
|
"Gloves," said the young man.
|
|
|
|
Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. "He put his gloves on
|
|
the chair, and he took the proofs, sheet by sheet, to copy them.
|
|
He thought the tutor must return by the main gate, and that he
|
|
would see him. As we know, he came back by the side gate.
|
|
Suddenly he heard him at the very door. There was no possible
|
|
escape. He forgot his gloves, but he caught up his shoes and
|
|
darted into the bedroom. You observe that the scratch on that
|
|
table is slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the
|
|
bedroom door. That in itself is enough to show us that the shoe
|
|
had been drawn in that direction and that the culprit had taken
|
|
refuge there. The earth round the spike had been left on the
|
|
table, and a second sample was loosened and fell in the bedroom.
|
|
I may add that I walked out to the athletic grounds this morning,
|
|
saw that tenacious black clay is used in the jumping-pit, and
|
|
carried away a specimen of it, together with some of the fine tan
|
|
or sawdust which is strewn over it to prevent the athlete from
|
|
slipping. Have I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?"
|
|
|
|
The student had drawn himself erect.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, it is true," said he.
|
|
|
|
"Good heavens, have you nothing to add?" cried Soames.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, I have, but the shock of this disgraceful exposure has
|
|
bewildered me. I have a letter here, Mr. Soames, which I wrote
|
|
to you early this morning in the middle of a restless night.
|
|
It was before I knew that my sin had found me out. Here it is,
|
|
sir. You will see that I have said, `I have determined not to go
|
|
in for the examination. I have been offered a commission in the
|
|
Rhodesian Police, and I am going out to South Africa at once."'
|
|
|
|
"I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to profit
|
|
by your unfair advantage," said Soames. "But why did you change
|
|
your purpose?"
|
|
|
|
Gilchrist pointed to Bannister.
|
|
|
|
"There is the man who set me in the right path," said he.
|
|
|
|
"Come now, Bannister," said Holmes. "It will be clear to you
|
|
from what I have said that only you could have let this young
|
|
man out, since you were left in the room, and must have locked
|
|
the door when you went out. As to his escaping by that window,
|
|
it was incredible. Can you not clear up the last point in this
|
|
mystery, and tell us the reasons for your action?"
|
|
|
|
"It was simple enough, sir, if you only had known; but with all
|
|
your cleverness it was impossible that you could know. Time was,
|
|
sir, when I was butler to old Sir Jabez Gilchrist, this young
|
|
gentleman's father. When he was ruined I came to the college as
|
|
servant, but I never forgot my old employer because he was down
|
|
in the world. I watched his son all I could for the sake of the
|
|
old days. Well, sir, when I came into this room yesterday when
|
|
the alarm was given, the very first thing I saw was Mr. Gilchrist's
|
|
tan gloves a-lying in that chair. I knew those gloves well,
|
|
and I understood their message. If Mr. Soames saw them the game
|
|
was up. I flopped down into that chair, and nothing would budge
|
|
me until Mr. Soames he went for you. Then out came my poor young
|
|
master, whom I had dandled on my knee, and confessed it all to me.
|
|
Wasn't it natural, sir, that I should save him, and wasn't it
|
|
natural also that I should try to speak to him as his dead father
|
|
would have done, and make him understand that he could not profit
|
|
by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"No, indeed," said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet.
|
|
"Well, Soames, I think we have cleared your little problem up, and
|
|
our breakfast awaits us at home. Come, Watson! As to you, sir,
|
|
I trust that a bright future awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you
|
|
have fallen low. Let us see in the future how high you can rise."
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------
|
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|
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|
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|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 28 JULY, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
|
|
|
|
X. --- The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WHEN I look at the three massive manuscript volumes which
|
|
contain our work for the year 1894 I confess that it is very
|
|
difficult for me, out of such a wealth of material, to select
|
|
the cases which are most interesting in themselves and at the
|
|
same time most conducive to a display of those peculiar powers
|
|
for which my friend was famous. As I turn over the pages I see
|
|
my notes upon the repulsive story of the red leech and the
|
|
terrible death of Crosby the banker. Here also I find an
|
|
account of the Addleton tragedy and the singular contents
|
|
of the ancient British barrow. The famous Smith-Mortimer
|
|
succession case comes also within this period, and so does
|
|
the tracking and arrest of Huret, the Boulevard assassin --
|
|
an exploit which won for Holmes an autograph letter of thanks
|
|
from the French President and the Order of the Legion of Honour.
|
|
Each of these would furnish a narrative, but on the whole I am
|
|
of opinion that none of them unite so many singular points of
|
|
interest as the episode of Yoxley Old Place, which includes not
|
|
only the lamentable death of young Willoughby Smith, but also
|
|
those subsequent developments which threw so curious a light
|
|
upon the causes of the crime.
|
|
|
|
It was a wild, tempestuous night towards the close of November.
|
|
Holmes and I sat together in silence all the evening, he engaged
|
|
with a powerful lens deciphering the remains of the original
|
|
inscription upon a palimpsest, I deep in a recent treatise upon
|
|
surgery. Outside the wind howled down Baker Street, while the
|
|
rain beat fiercely against the windows. It was strange there
|
|
in the very depths of the town, with ten miles of man's
|
|
handiwork on every side of us, to feel the iron grip of Nature,
|
|
and to be conscious that to the huge elemental forces all London
|
|
was no more than the molehills that dot the fields.
|
|
I walked to the window and looked out on the deserted street.
|
|
The occasional lamps gleamed on the expanse of muddy road and
|
|
shining pavement. A single cab was splashing its way from the
|
|
Oxford Street end.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Watson, it's as well we have not to turn out to-night,"
|
|
said Holmes, laying aside his lens and rolling up the palimpsest.
|
|
"I've done enough for one sitting. It is trying work for the eyes.
|
|
So far as I can make out it is nothing more exciting than an Abbey's
|
|
accounts dating from the second half of the fifteenth century.
|
|
Halloa! halloa! halloa! What's this?"
|
|
|
|
Amid the droning of the wind there had come the stamping of a
|
|
horse's hoofs and the long grind of a wheel as it rasped against
|
|
the kerb. The cab which I had seen had pulled up at our door.
|
|
|
|
"What can he want?" I ejaculated, as a man stepped out of it.
|
|
|
|
"Want! He wants us. And we, my poor Watson, want overcoats and
|
|
cravats and goloshes, and every aid that man ever invented to
|
|
fight the weather. Wait a bit, though! There's the cab off again!
|
|
There's hope yet. He'd have kept it if he had wanted us to come.
|
|
Run down, my dear fellow, and open the door, for all virtuous
|
|
folk have been long in bed."
|
|
|
|
When the light of the hall lamp fell upon our midnight visitor
|
|
I had no difficulty in recognising him. It was young Stanley
|
|
Hopkins, a promising detective, in whose career Holmes had
|
|
several times shown a very practical interest.
|
|
|
|
"Is he in?" he asked, eagerly.
|
|
|
|
"Come up, my dear sir," said Holmes's voice from above.
|
|
"I hope you have no designs upon us on such a night as this."
|
|
|
|
|
|
The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleamed upon his
|
|
shining waterproof. I helped him out of it while Holmes
|
|
knocked a blaze out of the logs in the grate.
|
|
|
|
"Now, my dear Hopkins, draw up and warm your toes," said he.
|
|
"Here's a cigar, and the doctor has a prescription containing hot
|
|
water and a lemon which is good medicine on a night like this.
|
|
It must be something important which has brought you out
|
|
in such a gale."
|
|
|
|
"It is indeed, Mr. Holmes. I've had a bustling afternoon,
|
|
I promise you. Did you see anything of the Yoxley case in
|
|
the latest editions?"
|
|
|
|
"I've seen nothing later than the fifteenth century to-day."
|
|
|
|
"Well, it was only a paragraph, and all wrong at that, so you
|
|
have not missed anything. I haven't let the grass grow under
|
|
my feet. It's down in Kent, seven miles from Chatham and three
|
|
from the railway line. I was wired for at three-fifteen, reached
|
|
Yoxley Old Place at five, conducted my investigation, was back
|
|
at Charing Cross by the last train, and straight to you by cab."
|
|
|
|
"Which means, I suppose, that you are not quite clear about your case?"
|
|
|
|
"It means that I can make neither head nor tail of it.
|
|
So far as I can see it is just as tangled a business as ever I
|
|
handled, and yet at first it seemed so simple that one couldn't
|
|
go wrong. There's no motive, Mr. Holmes. That's what bothers
|
|
me -- I can't put my hand on a motive. Here's a man dead --
|
|
there's no denying that -- but, so far as I can see, no reason
|
|
on earth why anyone should wish him harm."
|
|
|
|
Holmes lit his cigar and leaned back in his chair.
|
|
|
|
"Let us hear about it," said he.
|
|
|
|
"I've got my facts pretty clear," said Stanley Hopkins.
|
|
"All I want now is to know what they all mean. The story,
|
|
so far as I can make it out, is like this. Some years ago this
|
|
country house, Yoxley Old Place, was taken by an elderly man,
|
|
who gave the name of Professor Coram. He was an invalid,
|
|
keeping his bed half the time, and the other half hobbling round
|
|
the house with a stick or being pushed about the grounds by the
|
|
gardener in a bath-chair. He was well liked by the few neighbours
|
|
who called upon him, and he has the reputation down there of
|
|
being a very learned man. His household used to consist of an
|
|
elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Marker, and of a maid, Susan Tarlton.
|
|
These have both been with him since his arrival, and they seem
|
|
to be women of excellent character. The Professor is writing
|
|
a learned book, and he found it necessary about a year ago to
|
|
engage a secretary. The first two that he tried were not
|
|
successes; but the third, Mr. Willoughby Smith, a very young man
|
|
straight from the University, seems to have been just what his
|
|
employer wanted. His work consisted in writing all the morning
|
|
to the Professor's dictation, and he usually spent the evening
|
|
in hunting up references and passages which bore upon the next
|
|
day's work. This Willoughby Smith has nothing against him
|
|
either as a boy at Uppingham or as a young man at Cambridge.
|
|
I have seen his testimonials, and from the first he was a decent,
|
|
quiet, hardworking fellow, with no weak spot in him at all.
|
|
And yet this is the lad who has met his death this morning in the
|
|
Professor's study under circumstances which can point only to murder."
|
|
|
|
The wind howled and screamed at the windows. Holmes and I drew
|
|
closer to the fire while the young inspector slowly and point
|
|
by point developed his singular narrative.
|
|
|
|
"If you were to search all England," said he, "I don't suppose
|
|
you could find a household more self-contained or free from
|
|
outside influences. Whole weeks would pass and not one of them
|
|
go past the garden gate. The Professor was buried in his work
|
|
and existed for nothing else. Young Smith knew nobody in the
|
|
neighbourhood, and lived very much as his employer did. The two
|
|
women had nothing to take them from the house. Mortimer the
|
|
gardener, who wheels the bath-chair, is an Army pensioner -- an
|
|
old Crimean man of excellent character. He does not live in the
|
|
house, but in a three-roomed cottage at the other end of the
|
|
garden. Those are the only people that you would find within
|
|
the grounds of Yoxley Old Place. At the same time, the gate
|
|
of the garden is a hundred yards from the main London to Chatham
|
|
road. It opens with a latch, and there is nothing to prevent
|
|
anyone from walking in.
|
|
|
|
"Now I will give you the evidence of Susan Tarlton, who is the
|
|
only person who can say anything positive about the matter.
|
|
It was in the forenoon, between eleven and twelve.
|
|
She was engaged at the moment in hanging some curtains in
|
|
the upstairs front bedroom. Professor Coram was still in bed,
|
|
for when the weather is bad he seldom rises before midday.
|
|
The housekeeper was busied with some work in the back of the house.
|
|
Willoughby Smith had been in his bedroom, which he uses as a
|
|
sitting-room; but the maid heard him at that moment pass along
|
|
the passage and descend to the study immediately below her.
|
|
She did not see him, but she says that she could not be mistaken
|
|
in his quick, firm tread. She did not hear the study door close,
|
|
but a minute or so later there was a dreadful cry in the room below.
|
|
It was a wild, hoarse scream, so strange and unnatural that it
|
|
might have come either from a man or a woman. At the same instant
|
|
there was a heavy thud, which shook the old house, and then all
|
|
was silence. The maid stood petrified for a moment, and then,
|
|
recovering her courage, she ran downstairs. The study door was shut,
|
|
and she opened it. Inside young Mr. Willoughby Smith was stretched
|
|
upon the floor. At first she could see no injury, but as she tried
|
|
to raise him she saw that blood was pouring from the underside of
|
|
his neck. It was pierced by a very small but very deep wound,
|
|
which had divided the carotid artery. The instrument with which
|
|
the injury had been inflicted lay upon the carpet beside him.
|
|
It was one of those small sealing-wax knives to be found on
|
|
old-fashioned writing-tables, with an ivory handle and a stiff
|
|
blade. It was part of the fittings of the Professor's own desk.
|
|
|
|
"At first the maid thought that young Smith was already dead,
|
|
but on pouring some water from the carafe over his forehead he
|
|
opened his eyes for an instant. `The Professor,' he murmured --
|
|
`it was she.' The maid is prepared to swear that those were
|
|
the exact words. He tried desperately to say something else,
|
|
and he held his right hand up in the air. Then he fell back dead.
|
|
|
|
"In the meantime the housekeeper had also arrived upon the scene,
|
|
but she was just too late to catch the young man's dying words.
|
|
Leaving Susan with the body, she hurried to the Professor's room.
|
|
He was sitting up in bed horribly agitated, for he had heard
|
|
enough to convince him that something terrible had occurred.
|
|
Mrs. Marker is prepared to swear that the Professor was still
|
|
in his night-clothes, and, indeed, it was impossible for him to
|
|
dress without the help of Mortimer, whose orders were to come
|
|
at twelve o'clock. The Professor declares that he heard the
|
|
distant cry, but that he knows nothing more. He can give no
|
|
explanation of the young man's last words, `The Professor --
|
|
it was she,' but imagines that they were the outcome of delirium.
|
|
He believes that Willoughby Smith had not an enemy in the world,
|
|
and can give no reason for the crime. His first action was to
|
|
send Mortimer the gardener for the local police. A little later
|
|
the chief constable sent for me. Nothing was moved before I
|
|
got there, and strict orders were given that no one should walk
|
|
upon the paths leading to the house. It was a splendid chance
|
|
of putting your theories into practice, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
|
|
There was really nothing wanting."
|
|
|
|
"Except Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said my companion, with a somewhat
|
|
bitter smile. "Well, let us hear about it. What sort of job
|
|
did you make of it?"
|
|
|
|
"I must ask you first, Mr. Holmes, to glance at this rough plan,
|
|
which will give you a general idea of the position of the
|
|
Professor's study and the various points of the case.
|
|
It will help you in following my investigation."
|
|
|
|
He unfolded the rough chart, which I here reproduce, and he laid
|
|
it across Holmes's knee. I rose, and, standing behind Holmes,
|
|
I studied it over his shoulder.
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
"It is very rough, of course, and it only deals with the points
|
|
which seem to me to be essential. All the rest you will see
|
|
later for yourself. Now, first of all, presuming that the
|
|
assassin entered the house, how did he or she come in?
|
|
Undoubtedly by the garden path and the back door, from which
|
|
there is direct access to the study. Any other way would have
|
|
been exceedingly complicated. The escape must have also been
|
|
made along that line, for of the two other exits from the room
|
|
one was blocked by Susan as she ran downstairs and the other
|
|
leads straight to the Professor's bedroom. I therefore directed
|
|
my attention at once to the garden path, which was saturated
|
|
with recent rain and would certainly show any footmarks.
|
|
|
|
"My examination showed me that I was dealing with a cautious
|
|
and expert criminal. No footmarks were to be found on the path.
|
|
There could be no question, however, that someone had passed
|
|
along the grass border which lines the path, and that he had
|
|
done so in order to avoid leaving a track. I could not find
|
|
anything in the nature of a distinct impression, but the grass
|
|
was trodden down and someone had undoubtedly passed. It could
|
|
only have been the murderer, since neither the gardener nor
|
|
anyone else had been there that morning and the rain had only
|
|
begun during the night."
|
|
|
|
"One moment," said Holmes. "Where does this path lead to?"
|
|
|
|
"To the road."
|
|
|
|
"How long is it?"
|
|
|
|
"A hundred yards or so."
|
|
|
|
"At the point where the path passes through the gate you could
|
|
surely pick up the tracks?"
|
|
|
|
"Unfortunately, the path was tiled at that point."
|
|
|
|
"Well, on the road itself?"
|
|
|
|
"No; it was all trodden into mire."
|
|
|
|
"Tut-tut! Well, then, these tracks upon the grass,
|
|
were they coming or going?"
|
|
|
|
"It was impossible to say. There was never any outline."
|
|
|
|
"A large foot or a small?"
|
|
|
|
"You could not distinguish."
|
|
|
|
Holmes gave an ejaculation of impatience.
|
|
|
|
"It has been pouring rain and blowing a hurricane ever since,"
|
|
said he. "It will be harder to read now than that palimpsest.
|
|
Well, well, it can't be helped. What did you do, Hopkins,
|
|
after you had made certain that you had made certain of nothing?"
|
|
|
|
"I think I made certain of a good deal, Mr. Holmes.
|
|
I knew that someone had entered the house cautiously from without.
|
|
I next examined the corridor. It is lined with cocoanut matting
|
|
and had taken no impression of any kind. This brought me into the
|
|
study itself. It is a scantily-furnished room. The main article
|
|
is a large writing-table with a fixed bureau. This bureau
|
|
consists of a double column of drawers with a central small
|
|
cupboard between them. The drawers were open, the cupboard locked.
|
|
The drawers, it seems, were always open, and nothing of value was
|
|
kept in them. There were some papers of importance in the cupboard,
|
|
but there were no signs that this had been tampered with, and the
|
|
Professor assures me that nothing was missing. It is certain that
|
|
no robbery has been committed.
|
|
|
|
"I come now to the body of the young man.
|
|
It was found near the bureau, and just to the left of it,
|
|
as marked upon that chart. The stab was on the right side
|
|
of the neck and from behind forwards, so that it is almost
|
|
impossible that it could have been self-inflicted."
|
|
|
|
"Unless he fell upon the knife," said Holmes.
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. The idea crossed my mind. But we found the knife some
|
|
feet away from the body, so that seems impossible. Then, of course,
|
|
there are the man's own dying words. And, finally, there was this
|
|
very important piece of evidence which was found clasped in the
|
|
dead man's right hand."
|
|
|
|
From his pocket Stanley Hopkins drew a small paper packet.
|
|
He unfolded it and disclosed a golden pince-nez, with two broken
|
|
ends of black silk cord dangling from the end of it.
|
|
"Willoughby Smith had excellent sight," he added. "There can be
|
|
no question that this was snatched from the face or the person
|
|
of the assassin."
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes took the glasses into his hand and examined
|
|
them with the utmost attention and interest. He held them on
|
|
his nose, endeavoured to read through them, went to the window
|
|
and stared up the street with them, looked at them most minutely
|
|
in the full light of the lamp, and finally, with a chuckle,
|
|
seated himself at the table and wrote a few lines upon a sheet
|
|
of paper, which he tossed across to Stanley Hopkins.
|
|
|
|
"That's the best I can do for you," said he.
|
|
"It may prove to be of some use."
|
|
|
|
The astonished detective read the note aloud. It ran as follows:--
|
|
|
|
"Wanted, a woman of good address, attired like a lady.
|
|
She has a remarkably thick nose, with eyes which are set close
|
|
upon either side of it. She has a puckered forehead, a peering
|
|
expression, and probably rounded shoulders. There are
|
|
indications that she has had recourse to an optician at least
|
|
twice during the last few months. As her glasses are of
|
|
remarkable strength and as opticians are not very numerous,
|
|
there should be no difficulty in tracing her."
|
|
|
|
Holmes smiled at the astonishment of Hopkins, which must have
|
|
been reflected upon my features.
|
|
|
|
"Surely my deductions are simplicity itself," said he.
|
|
"It would be difficult to name any articles which afford a finer
|
|
field for inference than a pair of glasses, especially so
|
|
remarkable a pair as these. That they belong to a woman I
|
|
infer from their delicacy, and also, of course, from the last
|
|
words of the dying man. As to her being a person of refinement
|
|
and well dressed, they are, as you perceive, handsomely mounted
|
|
in solid gold, and it is inconceivable that anyone who wore such
|
|
glasses could be slatternly in other respects. You will find
|
|
that the clips are too wide for your nose, showing that the
|
|
lady's nose was very broad at the base. This sort of nose is
|
|
usually a short and coarse one, but there are a sufficient number
|
|
of exceptions to prevent me from being dogmatic or from insisting
|
|
upon this point in my description. My own face is a narrow one,
|
|
and yet I find that I cannot get my eyes into the centre, or
|
|
near the centre, of these glasses. Therefore the lady's eyes
|
|
are set very near to the sides of the nose. You will perceive,
|
|
Watson, that the glasses are concave and of unusual strength.
|
|
A lady whose vision has been so extremely contracted all her
|
|
life is sure to have the physical characteristics of such vision,
|
|
which are seen in the forehead, the eyelids, and the shoulders."
|
|
|
|
"Yes," I said, "I can follow each of your arguments. I confess,
|
|
however, that I am unable to understand how you arrive at the
|
|
double visit to the optician."
|
|
|
|
Holmes took the glasses in his hand.
|
|
|
|
"You will perceive," he said, "that the clips are lined with
|
|
tiny bands of cork to soften the pressure upon the nose. One of
|
|
these is discoloured and worn to some slight extent, but the
|
|
other is new. Evidently one has fallen off and been replaced.
|
|
I should judge that the older of them has not been there more
|
|
than a few months. They exactly correspond, so I gather that
|
|
the lady went back to the same establishment for the second."
|
|
|
|
"By George, it's marvellous!" cried Hopkins, in an ecstasy of
|
|
admiration. "To think that I had all that evidence in my hand
|
|
and never knew it! I had intended, however, to go the round of
|
|
the London opticians."
|
|
|
|
"Of course you would. Meanwhile, have you anything more to tell
|
|
us about the case?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing, Mr. Holmes. I think that you know as much as I do
|
|
now -- probably more. We have had inquiries made as to any
|
|
stranger seen on the country roads or at the railway station.
|
|
We have heard of none. What beats me is the utter want of all
|
|
object in the crime. Not a ghost of a motive can anyone suggest."
|
|
|
|
"Ah! there I am not in a position to help you. But I suppose
|
|
you want us to come out to-morrow?"
|
|
|
|
"If it is not asking too much, Mr. Holmes. There's a train from
|
|
Charing Cross to Chatham at six in the morning, and we should be
|
|
at Yoxley Old Place between eight and nine."
|
|
|
|
"Then we shall take it. Your case has certainly some features
|
|
of great interest, and I shall be delighted to look into it.
|
|
Well, it's nearly one, and we had best get a few hours' sleep.
|
|
I dare say you can manage all right on the sofa in front of the
|
|
fire. I'll light my spirit-lamp and give you a cup of coffee
|
|
before we start."
|
|
|
|
|
|
The gale had blown itself out next day, but it was a bitter
|
|
morning when we started upon our journey. We saw the cold
|
|
winter sun rise over the dreary marshes of the Thames and the
|
|
long, sullen reaches of the river, which I shall ever associate
|
|
with our pursuit of the Andaman Islander in the earlier days of
|
|
our career. After a long and weary journey we alighted at a
|
|
small station some miles from Chatham. While a horse was being
|
|
put into a trap at the local inn we snatched a hurried breakfast,
|
|
and so we were all ready for business when we at last arrived
|
|
at Yoxley Old Place. A constable met us at the garden gate.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Wilson, any news?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, nothing."
|
|
|
|
"No reports of any stranger seen?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir. Down at the station they are certain that no stranger
|
|
either came or went yesterday."
|
|
|
|
"Have you had inquiries made at inns and lodgings?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; there is no one that we cannot account for."
|
|
|
|
"Well, it's only a reasonable walk to Chatham. Anyone might
|
|
stay there, or take a train without being observed. This is the
|
|
garden path of which I spoke, Mr. Holmes. I'll pledge my word
|
|
there was no mark on it yesterday."
|
|
|
|
"On which side were the marks on the grass?"
|
|
|
|
"This side, sir. This narrow margin of grass between the path
|
|
and the flower-bed. I can't see the traces now, but they were
|
|
clear to me then."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, yes; someone has passed along," said Holmes, stooping over
|
|
the grass border. "Our lady must have picked her steps carefully,
|
|
must she not, since on the one side she would leave a track on
|
|
the path, and on the other an even clearer one on the soft bed?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, she must have been a cool hand."
|
|
|
|
I saw an intent look pass over Holmes's face.
|
|
|
|
"You say that she must have come back this way?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; there is no other."
|
|
|
|
"On this strip of grass?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
"Hum! It was a very remarkable performance -- very remarkable.
|
|
Well, I think we have exhausted the path. Let us go farther.
|
|
This garden door is usually kept open, I suppose? Then this
|
|
visitor had nothing to do but to walk in. The idea of murder
|
|
was not in her mind, or she would have provided herself with
|
|
some sort of weapon, instead of having to pick this knife off
|
|
the writing-table. She advanced along this corridor, leaving no
|
|
traces upon the cocoanut matting. Then she found herself in this
|
|
study. How long was she there? We have no means of judging."
|
|
|
|
"Not more than a few minutes, sir. I forgot to tell you that
|
|
Mrs. Marker, the housekeeper, had been in there tidying not very
|
|
long before -- about a quarter of an hour, she says."
|
|
|
|
"Well, that gives us a limit. Our lady enters this room and
|
|
what does she do? She goes over to the writing-table.
|
|
What for? Not for anything in the drawers. If there had been
|
|
anything worth her taking it would surely have been locked up.
|
|
No; it was for something in that wooden bureau. Halloa! what
|
|
is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold a match, Watson.
|
|
Why did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?"
|
|
|
|
The mark which he was examining began upon the brass work on
|
|
the right-hand side of the keyhole, and extended for about four
|
|
inches, where it had scratched the varnish from the surface.
|
|
|
|
"I noticed it, Mr. Holmes. But you'll always find scratches
|
|
round a keyhole."
|
|
|
|
"This is recent, quite recent. See how the brass shines where
|
|
it is cut. An old scratch would be the same colour as the surface.
|
|
Look at it through my lens. There's the varnish, too, like earth
|
|
on each side of a furrow. Is Mrs. Marker there?"
|
|
|
|
A sad-faced, elderly woman came into the room.
|
|
|
|
"Did you dust this bureau yesterday morning?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Did you notice this scratch?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, I did not."
|
|
|
|
"I am sure you did not, for a duster would have swept away
|
|
these shreds of varnish. Who has the key of this bureau?"
|
|
|
|
"The Professor keeps it on his watch-chain."
|
|
|
|
"Is it a simple key?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; it is a Chubb's key."
|
|
|
|
"Very good. Mrs. Marker, you can go. Now we are making a
|
|
little progress. Our lady enters the room, advances to the
|
|
bureau, and either opens it or tries to do so. While she is
|
|
thus engaged young Willoughby Smith enters the room. In her
|
|
hurry to withdraw the key she makes this scratch upon the door.
|
|
He seizes her, and she, snatching up the nearest object, which
|
|
happens to be this knife, strikes at him in order to make him
|
|
let go his hold. The blow is a fatal one. He falls and she
|
|
escapes, either with or without the object for which she has
|
|
come. Is Susan the maid there? Could anyone have got away
|
|
through that door after the time that you heard the cry, Susan?"
|
|
|
|
"No sir; it is impossible. Before I got down the stair I'd have
|
|
seen anyone in the passage. Besides, the door never opened,
|
|
for I would have heard it."
|
|
|
|
"That settles this exit. Then no doubt the lady went out the
|
|
way she came. I understand that this other passage leads only
|
|
to the Professor's room. There is no exit that way?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir."
|
|
|
|
"We shall go down it and make the acquaintance of the Professor.
|
|
Halloa, Hopkins! this is very important, very important indeed.
|
|
The Professor's corridor is also lined with cocoanut matting."
|
|
|
|
"Well, sir, what of that?"
|
|
|
|
"Don't you see any bearing upon the case? Well, well, I don't
|
|
insist upon it. No doubt I am wrong. And yet it seems to me to
|
|
be suggestive. Come with me and introduce me."
|
|
|
|
We passed down the passage, which was of the same length as that
|
|
which led to the garden. At the end was a short flight of steps
|
|
ending in a door. Our guide knocked, and then ushered us into
|
|
the Professor's bedroom.
|
|
|
|
It was a very large chamber, lined with innumerable volumes,
|
|
which had overflowed from the shelves and lay in piles in the
|
|
corners, or were stacked all round at the base of the cases.
|
|
The bed was in the centre of the room, and in it, propped up
|
|
with pillows, was the owner of the house. I have seldom seen a
|
|
more remarkable-looking person. It was a gaunt, aquiline face
|
|
which was turned towards us, with piercing dark eyes, which
|
|
lurked in deep hollows under overhung and tufted brows. His
|
|
hair and beard were white, save that the latter was curiously
|
|
stained with yellow around his mouth. A cigarette glowed amid
|
|
the tangle of white hair, and the air of the room was fetid
|
|
with stale tobacco-smoke. As he held out his hand to Holmes
|
|
I perceived that it also was stained yellow with nicotine.
|
|
|
|
"A smoker, Mr. Holmes?" said he, speaking well-chosen English
|
|
with a curious little mincing accent. "Pray take a cigarette.
|
|
And you, sir? I can recommend them, for I have them
|
|
especially prepared by Ionides of Alexandria. He sends me a
|
|
thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that I have to arrange
|
|
for a fresh supply every fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad, but an
|
|
old man has few pleasures. Tobacco and my work -- that is all
|
|
that is left to me."
|
|
|
|
Holmes had lit a cigarette, and was shooting little darting
|
|
glances all over the room.
|
|
|
|
"Tobacco and my work, but now only tobacco," the old man exclaimed.
|
|
"Alas! what a fatal interruption! Who could have foreseen such a
|
|
terrible catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that
|
|
after a few months' training he was an admirable assistant.
|
|
What do you think of the matter, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"I have not yet made up my mind."
|
|
|
|
"I shall indeed be indebted to you if you can throw a light
|
|
where all is so dark to us. To a poor bookworm and invalid like
|
|
myself such a blow is paralyzing. I seem to have lost the
|
|
faculty of thought. But you are a man of action -- you are a
|
|
man of affairs. It is part of the everyday routine of your life.
|
|
You can preserve your balance in every emergency. We are
|
|
fortunate indeed in having you at our side."
|
|
|
|
Holmes was pacing up and down one side of the room whilst the
|
|
old Professor was talking. I observed that he was smoking with
|
|
extraordinary rapidity. It was evident that he shared our
|
|
host's liking for the fresh Alexandrian cigarettes.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, it is a crushing blow," said the old man. "That is
|
|
my MAGNUM OPUS -- the pile of papers on the side table yonder.
|
|
It is my analysis of the documents found in the Coptic monasteries
|
|
of Syria and Egypt, a work which will cut deep at the very
|
|
foundations of revealed religion. With my enfeebled health
|
|
I do not know whether I shall ever be able to complete it now
|
|
that my assistant has been taken from me. Dear me, Mr. Holmes;
|
|
why, you are even a quicker smoker than I am myself."
|
|
|
|
Holmes smiled.
|
|
|
|
"I am a connoisseur," said he, taking another cigarette from the
|
|
box -- his fourth -- and lighting it from the stub of that which
|
|
he had finished. "I will not trouble you with any lengthy
|
|
cross-examination, Professor Coram, since I gather that you were
|
|
in bed at the time of the crime and could know nothing about it.
|
|
I would only ask this. What do you imagine that this poor
|
|
fellow meant by his last words: `The Professor -- it was she'?"
|
|
|
|
The Professor shook his head.
|
|
|
|
"Susan is a country girl," said he, "and you know the incredible
|
|
stupidity of that class. I fancy that the poor fellow murmured
|
|
some incoherent delirious words, and that she twisted them into
|
|
this meaningless message."
|
|
|
|
"I see. You have no explanation yourself of the tragedy?"
|
|
|
|
"Possibly an accident; possibly -- I only breathe it among
|
|
ourselves -- a suicide. Young men have their hidden troubles --
|
|
some affair of the heart, perhaps, which we have never known.
|
|
It is a more probable supposition than murder."
|
|
|
|
"But the eye-glasses?"
|
|
|
|
"Ah! I am only a student -- a man of dreams. I cannot explain
|
|
the practical things of life. But still, we are aware, my friend,
|
|
that love-gages may take strange shapes. By all means take
|
|
another cigarette. It is a pleasure to see anyone appreciate
|
|
them so. A fan, a glove, glasses -- who knows what article may
|
|
be carried as a token or treasured when a man puts an end to his
|
|
life? This gentleman speaks of footsteps in the grass; but, after
|
|
all, it is easy to be mistaken on such a point. As to the knife,
|
|
it might well be thrown far from the unfortunate man as he fell.
|
|
It is possible that I speak as a child, but to me it seems that
|
|
Willoughby Smith has met his fate by his own hand."
|
|
|
|
Holmes seemed struck by the theory thus put forward, and he
|
|
continued to walk up and down for some time, lost in thought
|
|
and consuming cigarette after cigarette.
|
|
|
|
"Tell me, Professor Coram," he said, at last, "what is in that
|
|
cupboard in the bureau?"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing that would help a thief. Family papers, letters from
|
|
my poor wife, diplomas of Universities which have done me honour.
|
|
Here is the key. You can look for yourself."
|
|
|
|
Holmes picked up the key and looked at it for an instant;
|
|
then he handed it back.
|
|
|
|
"No; I hardly think that it would help me," said he. "I should
|
|
prefer to go quietly down to your garden and turn the whole
|
|
matter over in my head. There is something to be said for the
|
|
theory of suicide which you have put forward. We must apologize
|
|
for having intruded upon you, Professor Coram, and I promise
|
|
that we won't disturb you until after lunch. At two o'clock
|
|
we will come again and report to you anything which may have
|
|
happened in the interval."
|
|
|
|
Holmes was curiously distrait, and we walked up and down the
|
|
garden path for some time in silence.
|
|
|
|
"Have you a clue?" I asked, at last.
|
|
|
|
"It depends upon those cigarettes that I smoked," said he.
|
|
"It is possible that I am utterly mistaken. The cigarettes
|
|
will show me."
|
|
|
|
"My dear Holmes," I exclaimed, "how on earth ----"
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, you may see for yourself. If not, there's no harm
|
|
done. Of course, we always have the optician clue to fall back
|
|
upon, but I take a short cut when I can get it. Ah, here is the
|
|
good Mrs. Marker! Let us enjoy five minutes of instructive
|
|
conversation with her."
|
|
|
|
I may have remarked before that Holmes had, when he liked,
|
|
a peculiarly ingratiating way with women, and that he very readily
|
|
established terms of confidence with them. In half the time
|
|
which he had named he had captured the housekeeper's goodwill,
|
|
and was chatting with her as if he had known her for years.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Holmes, it is as you say, sir. He does smoke
|
|
something terrible. All day and sometimes all night, sir.
|
|
I've seen that room of a morning -- well, sir, you'd have thought
|
|
it was a London fog. Poor young Mr. Smith, he was a smoker also,
|
|
but not as bad as the Professor. His health -- well, I don't
|
|
know that it's better nor worse for the smoking."
|
|
|
|
"Ah!" said Holmes, "but it kills the appetite."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I don't know about that, sir."
|
|
|
|
"I suppose the Professor eats hardly anything?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, he is variable. I'll say that for him."
|
|
|
|
"I'll wager he took no breakfast this morning, and won't face
|
|
his lunch after all the cigarettes I saw him consume."
|
|
|
|
"Well, you're out there, sir, as it happens, for he ate a remarkable
|
|
big breakfast this morning. I don't know when I've known him make
|
|
a better one, and he's ordered a good dish of cutlets for his lunch.
|
|
I'm surprised myself, for since I came into that room yesterday
|
|
and saw young Mr. Smith lying there on the floor I couldn't bear
|
|
to look at food. Well, it takes all sorts to make a world, and the
|
|
Professor hasn't let it take his appetite away."
|
|
|
|
We loitered the morning away in the garden. Stanley Hopkins had
|
|
gone down to the village to look into some rumours of a strange
|
|
woman who had been seen by some children on the Chatham Road the
|
|
previous morning. As to my friend, all his usual energy seemed
|
|
to have deserted him. I had never known him handle a case in
|
|
such a half-hearted fashion. Even the news brought back by
|
|
Hopkins that he had found the children and that they had
|
|
undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes's
|
|
description, and wearing either spectacles or eye-glasses, failed
|
|
to rouse any sign of keen interest. He was more attentive when
|
|
Susan, who waited upon us at lunch, volunteered the information
|
|
that she believed Mr. Smith had been out for a walk yesterday
|
|
morning, and that he had only returned half an hour before the
|
|
tragedy occurred. I could not myself see the bearing of this
|
|
incident, but I clearly perceived that Holmes was weaving it
|
|
into the general scheme which he had formed in his brain.
|
|
Suddenly he sprang from his chair and glanced at his watch.
|
|
"Two o'clock, gentlemen," said he. "We must go up and have
|
|
it out with our friend the Professor."
|
|
|
|
The old man had just finished his lunch, and certainly his empty
|
|
dish bore evidence to the good appetite with which his
|
|
housekeeper had credited him. He was, indeed, a weird figure
|
|
as he turned his white mane and his glowing eyes towards us.
|
|
The eternal cigarette smouldered in his mouth. He had been
|
|
dressed and was seated in an arm-chair by the fire.
|
|
|
|
"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved this mystery yet?" He shoved
|
|
the large tin of cigarettes which stood on a table beside him
|
|
towards my companion. Holmes stretched out his hand at the same
|
|
moment, and between them they tipped the box over the edge.
|
|
For a minute or two we were all on our knees retrieving stray
|
|
cigarettes from impossible places. When we rose again I observed
|
|
that Holmes's eyes were shining and his cheeks tinged with colour.
|
|
Only at a crisis have I seen those battle-signals flying.
|
|
|
|
"Yes," said he, "I have solved it."
|
|
|
|
Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a
|
|
sneer quivered over the gaunt features of the old Professor.
|
|
|
|
"Indeed! In the garden?"
|
|
|
|
"No, here."
|
|
|
|
"Here! When?"
|
|
|
|
"This instant."
|
|
|
|
"You are surely joking, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You compel me to tell
|
|
you that this is too serious a matter to be treated in such a fashion."
|
|
|
|
"I have forged and tested every link of my chain, Professor Coram,
|
|
and I am sure that it is sound. What your motives are or what
|
|
exact part you play in this strange business I am not yet able to
|
|
say. In a few minutes I shall probably hear it from your own lips.
|
|
Meanwhile I will reconstruct what is past for your benefit, so that
|
|
you may know the information which I still require.
|
|
|
|
"A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with the intention
|
|
of possessing herself of certain documents which were in your
|
|
bureau. She had a key of her own. I have had an opportunity
|
|
of examining yours, and I do not find that slight discolouration
|
|
which the scratch made upon the varnish would have produced.
|
|
You were not an accessory, therefore, and she came, so far as
|
|
I can read the evidence, without your knowledge to rob you."
|
|
|
|
The Professor blew a cloud from his lips. "This is most
|
|
interesting and instructive," said he. "Have you no more to add?
|
|
Surely, having traced this lady so far, you can also say what has
|
|
become of her."
|
|
|
|
"I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was
|
|
seized by your secretary, and stabbed him in order to escape.
|
|
This catastrophe I am inclined to regard as an unhappy accident,
|
|
for I am convinced that the lady had no intention of inflicting
|
|
so grievous an injury. An assassin does not come unarmed.
|
|
Horrified by what she had done she rushed wildly away from the
|
|
scene of the tragedy. Unfortunately for her she had lost her
|
|
glasses in the scuffle, and as she was extremely short-sighted
|
|
she was really helpless without them. She ran down a corridor,
|
|
which she imagined to be that by which she had come -- both were
|
|
lined with cocoanut matting -- and it was only when it was too
|
|
late that she understood that she had taken the wrong passage
|
|
and that her retreat was cut off behind her. What was she to do?
|
|
She could not go back. She could not remain where she was.
|
|
She must go on. She went on. She mounted a stair, pushed open
|
|
a door, and found herself in your room."
|
|
|
|
The old man sat with his mouth open staring wildly at Holmes.
|
|
Amazement and fear were stamped upon his expressive features.
|
|
Now, with an effort, he shrugged his shoulders and burst into
|
|
insincere laughter.
|
|
|
|
"All very fine, Mr. Holmes," said he. "But there is one
|
|
little flaw in your splendid theory. I was myself in my room,
|
|
and I never left it during the day."
|
|
|
|
"I am aware of that, Professor Coram."
|
|
|
|
"And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not
|
|
be aware that a woman had entered my room?"
|
|
|
|
"I never said so. You WERE aware of it. You spoke with her.
|
|
You recognised her. You aided her to escape."
|
|
|
|
Again the Professor burst into high-keyed laughter.
|
|
He had risen to his feet and his eyes glowed like embers.
|
|
|
|
"You are mad!" he cried. "You are talking insanely.
|
|
I helped her to escape? Where is she now?"
|
|
|
|
"She is there," said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcase
|
|
in the corner of the room.
|
|
|
|
I saw the old man throw up his arms, a terrible convulsion
|
|
passed over his grim face, and he fell back in his chair.
|
|
At the same instant the bookcase at which Holmes pointed swung
|
|
round upon a hinge, and a woman rushed out into the room.
|
|
"You are right!" she cried, in a strange foreign voice.
|
|
"You are right! I am here."
|
|
|
|
She was brown with the dust and draped with the cobwebs which
|
|
had come from the walls of her hiding-place. Her face, too,
|
|
was streaked with grime, and at the best she could never have been
|
|
handsome, for she had the exact physical characteristics which
|
|
Holmes had divined, with, in addition, a long and obstinate chin.
|
|
What with her natural blindness, and what with the change from
|
|
dark to light, she stood as one dazed, blinking about her to see
|
|
where and who we were. And yet, in spite of all these disadvantages,
|
|
there was a certain nobility in the woman's bearing, a gallantry
|
|
in the defiant chin and in the upraised head, which compelled
|
|
something of respect and admiration. Stanley Hopkins had laid
|
|
his hand upon her arm and claimed her as his prisoner, but she
|
|
waved him aside gently, and yet with an overmastering dignity
|
|
which compelled obedience. The old man lay back in his chair,
|
|
with a twitching face, and stared at her with brooding eyes.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, I am your prisoner," she said. "From where I stood
|
|
I could hear everything, and I know that you have learned the
|
|
truth. I confess it all. It was I who killed the young man.
|
|
But you are right, you who say it was an accident. I did not
|
|
even know that it was a knife which I held in my hand, for in my
|
|
despair I snatched anything from the table and struck at him to
|
|
make him let me go. It is the truth that I tell."
|
|
|
|
"Madam," said Holmes, "I am sure that it is the truth.
|
|
I fear that you are far from well."
|
|
|
|
She had turned a dreadful colour, the more ghastly under the
|
|
dark dust-streaks upon her face. She seated herself on the
|
|
side of the bed; then she resumed.
|
|
|
|
"I have only a little time here," she said, "but I would have
|
|
you to know the whole truth. I am this man's wife. He is not
|
|
an Englishman. He is a Russian. His name I will not tell."
|
|
|
|
For the first time the old man stirred. "God bless you, Anna!"
|
|
he cried. "God bless you!"
|
|
|
|
She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction.
|
|
"Why should you cling so hard to that wretched life of yours,
|
|
Sergius?" said she. "It has done harm to many and good to
|
|
none -- not even to yourself. However, it is not for me to
|
|
cause the frail thread to be snapped before God's time.
|
|
I have enough already upon my soul since I crossed the threshold
|
|
of this cursed house. But I must speak or I shall be too late.
|
|
|
|
"I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man's wife. He was
|
|
fifty and I a foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was
|
|
in a city of Russia, a University -- I will not name the place."
|
|
|
|
"God bless you, Anna!" murmured the old man again.
|
|
|
|
"We were reformers -- revolutionists -- Nihilists, you understand.
|
|
He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble,
|
|
a police officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was
|
|
wanted, and in order to save his own life and to earn a great
|
|
reward my husband betrayed his own wife and his companions.
|
|
Yes, we were all arrested upon his confession. Some of us found
|
|
our way to the gallows and some to Siberia. I was among these
|
|
last, but my term was not for life. My husband came to England
|
|
with his ill-gotten gains, and has lived in quiet ever since,
|
|
knowing well that if the Brotherhood knew where he was not
|
|
a week would pass before justice would be done."
|
|
|
|
The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself
|
|
to a cigarette. "I am in your hands, Anna," said he.
|
|
"You were always good to me."
|
|
|
|
"I have not yet told you the height of his villainy," said she.
|
|
"Among our comrades of the Order there was one who was the
|
|
friend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving -- all that
|
|
my husband was not. He hated violence. We were all guilty --
|
|
if that is guilt -- but he was not. He wrote for ever dissuading
|
|
us from such a course. These letters would have saved him.
|
|
So would my diary, in which from day to day I had entered both
|
|
my feelings towards him and the view which each of us had taken.
|
|
My husband found and kept both diary and letters. He hid them,
|
|
and he tried hard to swear away the young man's life. In this
|
|
he failed, but Alexis was sent a convict to Siberia, where now,
|
|
at this moment, he works in a salt mine. Think of that, you
|
|
villain, you villain; now, now, at this very moment, Alexis,
|
|
a man whose name you are not worthy to speak, works and lives like
|
|
a slave, and yet I have your life in my hands and I let you go."
|
|
|
|
"You were always a noble woman, Anna," said the old man, puffing
|
|
at his cigarette.
|
|
|
|
She had risen, but she fell back again with a little cry of pain.
|
|
|
|
"I must finish," she said. "When my term was over I set myself
|
|
to get the diary and letters which, if sent to the Russian
|
|
Government, would procure my friend's release. I knew that my
|
|
husband had come to England. After months of searching I
|
|
discovered where he was. I knew that he still had the diary,
|
|
for when I was in Siberia I had a letter from him once
|
|
reproaching me and quoting some passages from its pages.
|
|
Yet I was sure that with his revengeful nature he would never
|
|
give it to me of his own free will. I must get it for myself.
|
|
With this object I engaged an agent from a private detective firm,
|
|
who entered my husband's house as secretary -- it was your
|
|
second secretary, Sergius, the one who left you so hurriedly.
|
|
He found that papers were kept in the cupboard, and he got an
|
|
impression of the key. He would not go farther. He furnished
|
|
me with a plan of the house, and he told me that in the forenoon
|
|
the study was always empty, as the secretary was employed up here.
|
|
So at last I took my courage in both hands and I came down to
|
|
get the papers for myself. I succeeded, but at what a cost!
|
|
|
|
"I had just taken the papers and was locking the cupboard when
|
|
the young man seized me. I had seen him already that morning.
|
|
He had met me in the road and I had asked him to tell me where
|
|
Professor Coram lived, not knowing that he was in his employ."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly! exactly!" said Holmes. "The secretary came back and
|
|
told his employer of the woman he had met. Then in his last
|
|
breath he tried to send a message that it was she -- the she whom
|
|
he had just discussed with him."
|
|
|
|
"You must let me speak," said the woman, in an imperative voice,
|
|
and her face contracted as if in pain. "When he had fallen
|
|
I rushed from the room, chose the wrong door, and found myself
|
|
in my husband's room. He spoke of giving me up. I showed him
|
|
that if he did so his life was in my hands. If he gave me to
|
|
the law I could give him to the Brotherhood. It was not that
|
|
I wished to live for my own sake, but it was that I desired to
|
|
accomplish my purpose. He knew that I would do what I said --
|
|
that his own fate was involved in mine. For that reason
|
|
and for no other he shielded me. He thrust me into that dark
|
|
hiding-place, a relic of old days, known only to himself.
|
|
He took his meals in his own room, and so was able to give me
|
|
part of his food. It was agreed that when the police left
|
|
the house I should slip away by night and come back no more.
|
|
But in some way you have read our plans." She tore from the
|
|
bosom of her dress a small packet. "These are my last words,"
|
|
said she; "here is the packet which will save Alexis.
|
|
I confide it to your honour and to your love of justice.
|
|
Take it! You will deliver it at the Russian Embassy.
|
|
Now I have done my duty, and ----"
|
|
|
|
"Stop her!" cried Holmes. He had bounded across the room
|
|
and had wrenched a small phial from her hand.
|
|
|
|
"Too late!" she said, sinking back on the bed. "Too late!
|
|
I took the poison before I left my hiding-place. My head swims!
|
|
I am going! I charge you, sir, to remember the packet."
|
|
|
|
|
|
"A simple case, and yet in some ways an instructive one,"
|
|
Holmes remarked, as we travelled back to town. "It hinged from
|
|
the outset upon the pince-nez. But for the fortunate chance of
|
|
the dying man having seized these I am not sure that we could
|
|
ever have reached our solution. It was clear to me from the
|
|
strength of the glasses that the wearer must have been very
|
|
blind and helpless when deprived of them. When you asked me to
|
|
believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass without
|
|
once making a false step I remarked, as you may remember, that
|
|
it was a noteworthy performance. In my mind I set it down as an
|
|
impossible performance, save in the unlikely case that she had a
|
|
second pair of glasses. I was forced, therefore, to seriously
|
|
consider the hypothesis that she had remained within the house.
|
|
On perceiving the similarity of the two corridors it became
|
|
clear that she might very easily have made such a mistake,
|
|
and in that case it was evident that she must have entered
|
|
the Professor's room. I was keenly on the alert, therefore,
|
|
for whatever would bear out this supposition, and I examined
|
|
the room narrowly for anything in the shape of a hiding-place.
|
|
The carpet seemed continuous and firmly nailed, so I dismissed
|
|
the idea of a trap-door. There might well be a recess behind
|
|
the books. As you are aware, such devices are common in old
|
|
libraries. I observed that books were piled on the floor at all
|
|
other points, but that one bookcase was left clear. This, then,
|
|
might be the door. I could see no marks to guide me, but the
|
|
carpet was of a dun colour, which lends itself very well to
|
|
examination. I therefore smoked a great number of those
|
|
excellent cigarettes, and I dropped the ash all over the space
|
|
in front of the suspected bookcase. It was a simple trick, but
|
|
exceedingly effective. I then went downstairs and I ascertained,
|
|
in your presence, Watson, without your perceiving the drift of my
|
|
remarks, that Professor Coram's consumption of food had increased
|
|
-- as one would expect when he is supplying a second person.
|
|
We then ascended to the room again, when, by upsetting the
|
|
cigarette-box, I obtained a very excellent view of the floor,
|
|
and was able to see quite clearly, from the traces upon the
|
|
cigarette ash, that the prisoner had, in our absence, come out
|
|
from her retreat. Well, Hopkins, here we are at Charing Cross,
|
|
and I congratulate you on having brought your case to a successful
|
|
conclusion. You are going to head-quarters, no doubt. I think,
|
|
Watson, you and I will drive together to the Russian Embassy."
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 28 AUGUST, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
XI. --- The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter.
|
|
|
|
|
|
WE were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker
|
|
Street, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached
|
|
us on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago and
|
|
gave Mr. Sherlock Holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. It was
|
|
addressed to him, and ran thus:--
|
|
|
|
"Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quarter
|
|
missing; indispensable to morrow. -- OVERTON."
|
|
|
|
"Strand post-mark and dispatched ten-thirty-six," said Holmes,
|
|
reading it over and over. "Mr. Overton was evidently considerably
|
|
excited when he sent it, and somewhat incoherent in consequence.
|
|
Well, well, he will be here, I dare say, by the time I have looked
|
|
through the TIMES, and then we shall know all about it. Even the
|
|
most insignificant problem would be welcome in these stagnant days."
|
|
|
|
Things had indeed been very slow with us, and I had learned
|
|
to dread such periods of inaction, for I knew by experience
|
|
that my companion's brain was so abnormally active that it was
|
|
dangerous to leave it without material upon which to work.
|
|
For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which
|
|
had threatened once to check his remarkable career. Now I knew
|
|
that under ordinary conditions he no longer craved for this
|
|
artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was
|
|
not dead, but sleeping; and I have known that the sleep was a
|
|
light one and the waking near when in periods of idleness I have
|
|
seen the drawn look upon Holmes's ascetic face, and the brooding
|
|
of his deep-set and inscrutable eyes. Therefore I blessed this
|
|
Mr. Overton, whoever he might be, since he had come with his
|
|
enigmatic message to break that dangerous calm which brought more
|
|
peril to my friend than all the storms of his tempestuous life.
|
|
|
|
As we had expected, the telegram was soon followed by its
|
|
sender, and the card of Mr. Cyril Overton, of Trinity College,
|
|
Cambridge, announced the arrival of an enormous young man,
|
|
sixteen stone of solid bone and muscle, who spanned the doorway
|
|
with his broad shoulders and looked from one of us to the other
|
|
with a comely face which was haggard with anxiety.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
My companion bowed.
|
|
|
|
"I've been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes.
|
|
I saw Inspector Stanley Hopkins. He advised me to come to you.
|
|
He said the case, so far as he could see, was more in your line
|
|
than in that of the regular police."
|
|
|
|
"Pray sit down and tell me what is the matter."
|
|
|
|
"It's awful, Mr. Holmes, simply awful! I wonder my hair isn't grey.
|
|
Godfrey Staunton -- you've heard of him, of course? He's simply the
|
|
hinge that the whole team turns on. I'd rather spare two from the
|
|
pack and have Godfrey for my three-quarter line. Whether it's
|
|
passing, or tackling, or dribbling, there's no one to touch him;
|
|
and then, he's got the head and can hold us all together.
|
|
What am I to do? That's what I ask you, Mr. Holmes.
|
|
There's Moorhouse, first reserve, but he is trained as a half,
|
|
and he always edges right in on to the scrum instead of keeping
|
|
out on the touch-line. He's a fine place-kick, it's true, but,
|
|
then, he has no judgment, and he can't sprint for nuts.
|
|
Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him.
|
|
Stevenson is fast enough, but he couldn't drop from the twenty-five
|
|
line, and a three-quarter who can't either punt or drop isn't worth
|
|
a place for pace alone. No, Mr. Holmes, we are done unless you can
|
|
help me to find Godfrey Staunton."
|
|
|
|
My friend had listened with amused surprise to this long speech,
|
|
which was poured forth with extraordinary vigour and earnestness,
|
|
every point being driven home by the slapping of a brawny hand
|
|
upon the speaker's knee. When our visitor was silent Holmes
|
|
stretched out his hand and took down letter "S" of his
|
|
commonplace book. For once he dug in vain into that mine of
|
|
varied information.
|
|
|
|
"There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger,"
|
|
said he, "and there was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang,
|
|
but Godfrey Staunton is a new name to me."
|
|
|
|
It was our visitor's turn to look surprised.
|
|
|
|
"Why, Mr. Holmes, I thought you knew things," said he.
|
|
"I suppose, then, if you have never heard of Godfrey Staunton
|
|
you don't know Cyril Overton either?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes shook his head good-humouredly.
|
|
|
|
"Great Scot!" cried the athlete. "Why, I was first reserve
|
|
for England against Wales, and I've skippered the 'Varsity all
|
|
this year. But that's nothing! I didn't think there was a
|
|
soul in England who didn't know Godfrey Staunton, the crack
|
|
three-quarter, Cambridge, Blackheath, and five Internationals.
|
|
Good Lord! Mr. Holmes, where HAVE you lived?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes laughed at the young giant's naive astonishment.
|
|
|
|
"You live in a different world to me, Mr. Overton, a sweeter
|
|
and healthier one. My ramifications stretch out into many
|
|
sections of society, but never, I am happy to say, into amateur
|
|
sport, which is the best and soundest thing in England. However,
|
|
your unexpected visit this morning shows me that even in that
|
|
world of fresh air and fair play there may be work for me to do;
|
|
so now, my good sir, I beg you to sit down and to tell me slowly
|
|
and quietly exactly what it is that has occurred, and how you
|
|
desire that I should help you."
|
|
|
|
Young Overton's face assumed the bothered look of the man who
|
|
is more accustomed to using his muscles than his wits; but by
|
|
degrees, with many repetitions and obscurities which I may omit
|
|
from his narrative, he laid his strange story before us.
|
|
|
|
|
|
"It's this way, Mr. Holmes. As I have said, I am the skipper
|
|
of the Rugger team of Cambridge 'Varsity, and Godfrey Staunton
|
|
is my best man. To-morrow we play Oxford. Yesterday we
|
|
all came up and we settled at Bentley's private hotel. At ten
|
|
o'clock I went round and saw that all the fellows had gone to
|
|
roost, for I believe in strict training and plenty of sleep to
|
|
keep a team fit. I had a word or two with Godfrey before he
|
|
turned in. He seemed to me to be pale and bothered. I asked him
|
|
what was the matter. He said he was all right -- just a touch
|
|
of headache. I bade him good-night and left him. Half an hour
|
|
later the porter tells me that a rough-looking man with a beard
|
|
called with a note for Godfrey. He had not gone to bed and the
|
|
note was taken to his room. Godfrey read it and fell back in a
|
|
chair as if he had been pole-axed. The porter was so scared that
|
|
he was going to fetch me, but Godfrey stopped him, had a drink of
|
|
water, and pulled himself together. Then he went downstairs,
|
|
said a few words to the man who was waiting in the hall, and the
|
|
two of them went off together. The last that the porter saw of
|
|
them, they were almost running down the street in the direction
|
|
of the Strand. This morning Godfrey's room was empty, his bed
|
|
had never been slept in, and his things were all just as I had
|
|
seen them the night before. He had gone off at a moment's notice
|
|
with this stranger, and no word has come from him since. I don't
|
|
believe he will ever come back. He was a sportsman, was Godfrey,
|
|
down to his marrow, and he wouldn't have stopped his training and
|
|
let in his skipper if it were not for some cause that was too
|
|
strong for him. No; I feel as if he were gone for good and we
|
|
should never see him again."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes listened with the deepest attention to this
|
|
singular narrative.
|
|
|
|
"What did you do?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"I wired to Cambridge to learn if anything had been heard
|
|
of him there. I have had an answer. No one has seen him."
|
|
|
|
"Could he have got back to Cambridge?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, there is a late train -- quarter-past eleven."
|
|
|
|
"But so far as you can ascertain he did not take it?"
|
|
|
|
"No, he has not been seen."
|
|
|
|
"What did you do next?"
|
|
|
|
"I wired to Lord Mount-James."
|
|
|
|
"Why to Lord Mount-James?"
|
|
|
|
"Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest
|
|
relative -- his uncle, I believe."
|
|
|
|
"Indeed. This throws new light upon the matter.
|
|
Lord Mount-James is one of the richest men in England."
|
|
|
|
"So I've heard Godfrey say."
|
|
|
|
"And your friend was closely related?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty --
|
|
cram full of gout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue
|
|
with his knuckles. He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his
|
|
life, for he is an absolute miser, but it will all come to him
|
|
right enough."
|
|
|
|
"Have you heard from Lord Mount-James?"
|
|
|
|
"No."
|
|
|
|
"What motive could your friend have in going to Lord Mount-James?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, something was worrying him the night before, and if
|
|
it was to do with money it is possible that he would make for his
|
|
nearest relative who had so much of it, though from all I have
|
|
heard he would not have much chance of getting it. Godfrey was
|
|
not fond of the old man. He would not go if he could help it."
|
|
|
|
"Well, we can soon determine that. If your friend was going
|
|
to his relative, Lord Mount-James, you have then to explain
|
|
the visit of this rough-looking fellow at so late an hour,
|
|
and the agitation that was caused by his coming."
|
|
|
|
Cyril Overton pressed his hands to his head. "I can make
|
|
nothing of it," said he.
|
|
|
|
"Well, well, I have a clear day, and I shall be happy to look
|
|
into the matter," said Holmes. "I should strongly recommend
|
|
you to make your preparations for your match without reference
|
|
to this young gentleman. It must, as you say, have been an
|
|
overpowering necessity which tore him away in such a fashion,
|
|
and the same necessity is likely to hold him away. Let us step
|
|
round together to this hotel, and see if the porter can throw
|
|
any fresh light upon the matter."
|
|
|
|
Sherlock Holmes was a past-master in the art of putting a
|
|
humble witness at his ease, and very soon, in the privacy of
|
|
Godfrey Staunton's abandoned room, he had extracted all that
|
|
the porter had to tell. The visitor of the night before was not
|
|
a gentleman, neither was he a working man. He was simply what
|
|
the porter described as a "medium-looking chap"; a man of fifty,
|
|
beard grizzled, pale face, quietly dressed. He seemed himself
|
|
to be agitated. The porter had observed his hand trembling when
|
|
he had held out the note. Godfrey Staunton had crammed the note
|
|
into his pocket. Staunton had not shaken hands with the man in
|
|
the hall. They had exchanged a few sentences, of which the
|
|
porter had only distinguished the one word "time." Then they
|
|
had hurried off in the manner described. It was just half-past
|
|
ten by the hall clock.
|
|
|
|
"Let me see," said Holmes, seating himself on Staunton's bed.
|
|
"You are the day porter, are you not?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; I go off duty at eleven."
|
|
|
|
"The night porter saw nothing, I suppose?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir; one theatre party came in late. No one else."
|
|
|
|
"Were you on duty all day yesterday?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Did you take any messages to Mr. Staunton?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; one telegram."
|
|
|
|
"Ah! that's interesting. What o'clock was this?"
|
|
|
|
"About six."
|
|
|
|
"Where was Mr. Staunton when he received it?"
|
|
|
|
"Here in his room."
|
|
|
|
"Were you present when he opened it?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; I waited to see if there was an answer."
|
|
|
|
"Well, was there?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. He wrote an answer."
|
|
|
|
"Did you take it?"
|
|
|
|
"No; he took it himself."
|
|
|
|
"But he wrote it in your presence?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir. I was standing by the door, and he with his
|
|
back turned at that table. When he had written it he said,
|
|
`All right, porter, I will take this myself.'"
|
|
|
|
"What did he write it with?"
|
|
|
|
"A pen, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Was the telegraphic form one of these on the table?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; it was the top one."
|
|
|
|
Holmes rose. Taking the forms he carried them over to the
|
|
window and carefully examined that which was uppermost.
|
|
|
|
"It is a pity he did not write in pencil," said he, throwing
|
|
them down again with a shrug of disappointment. "As you have no
|
|
doubt frequently observed, Watson, the impression usually goes
|
|
through -- a fact which has dissolved many a happy marriage.
|
|
However, I can find no trace here. I rejoice, however,
|
|
to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quill pen,
|
|
and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon
|
|
this blotting-pad. Ah, yes, surely this is the very thing!"
|
|
|
|
He tore off a strip of the blotting-paper and turned towards
|
|
us the following hieroglyphic:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
Cyril Overton was much excited. "Hold it to the glass!" he cried.
|
|
|
|
"That is unnecessary," said Holmes. "The paper is thin,
|
|
and the reverse will give the message. Here it is."
|
|
He turned it over and we read:--
|
|
|
|
GRAPHIC
|
|
|
|
"So that is the tail end of the telegram which Godfrey Staunton
|
|
dispatched within a few hours of his disappearance.
|
|
There are at least six words of the message which have escaped us;
|
|
but what remains -- `Stand by us for God's sake!' -- proves that
|
|
this young man saw a formidable danger which approached him,
|
|
and from which someone else could protect him. `US,' mark you!
|
|
Another person was involved. Who should it be but the pale-faced,
|
|
bearded man, who seemed himself in so nervous a state?
|
|
What, then, is the connection between Godfrey Staunton and the
|
|
bearded man? And what is the third source from which each of
|
|
them sought for help against pressing danger? Our inquiry has
|
|
already narrowed down to that."
|
|
|
|
"We have only to find to whom that telegram is addressed,"
|
|
I suggested.
|
|
|
|
"Exactly, my dear Watson. Your reflection, though profound,
|
|
had already crossed my mind. But I dare say it may have come to
|
|
your notice that if you walk into a post-office and demand to
|
|
see the counterfoil of another man's message there may be some
|
|
disinclination on the part of the officials to oblige you. There
|
|
is so much red tape in these matters! However, I have no doubt
|
|
that with a little delicacy and finesse the end may be attained.
|
|
Meanwhile, I should like in your presence, Mr. Overton, to go
|
|
through these papers which have been left upon the table."
|
|
|
|
There were a number of letters, bills, and note-books, which
|
|
Holmes turned over and examined with quick, nervous fingers and
|
|
darting, penetrating eyes. "Nothing here," he said, at last.
|
|
"By the way, I suppose your friend was a healthy young fellow --
|
|
nothing amiss with him?"
|
|
|
|
"Sound as a bell."
|
|
|
|
"Have you ever known him ill?"
|
|
|
|
"Not a day. He has been laid up with a hack, and once he
|
|
slipped his knee-cap, but that was nothing."
|
|
|
|
"Perhaps he was not so strong as you suppose. I should think
|
|
he may have had some secret trouble. With your assent I will
|
|
put one or two of these papers in my pocket, in case they
|
|
should bear upon our future inquiry."
|
|
|
|
"One moment! one moment!" cried a querulous voice, and we
|
|
looked up to find a queer little old man, jerking and twitching
|
|
in the doorway. He was dressed in rusty black, with a very
|
|
broad brimmed top-hat and a loose white necktie -- the whole
|
|
effect being that of a very rustic parson or of an undertaker's
|
|
mute. Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurd appearance,
|
|
his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quick intensity
|
|
which commanded attention.
|
|
|
|
"Who are you, sir, and by what right do you touch this
|
|
gentleman's papers?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
"I am a private detective, and I am endeavouring to explain
|
|
his disappearance."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, you are, are you? And who instructed you, eh?"
|
|
|
|
"This gentleman, Mr. Staunton's friend, was referred to me
|
|
by Scotland Yard."
|
|
|
|
"Who are you, sir?"
|
|
|
|
"I am Cyril Overton."
|
|
|
|
"Then it is you who sent me a telegram. My name is Lord Mount-James.
|
|
I came round as quickly as the Bayswater 'bus would bring me.
|
|
So you have instructed a detective?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir."
|
|
|
|
"And are you prepared to meet the cost?"
|
|
|
|
"I have no doubt, sir, that my friend Godfrey, when we find him,
|
|
will be prepared to do that."
|
|
|
|
"But if he is never found, eh? Answer me that!"
|
|
|
|
"In that case no doubt his family ----"
|
|
|
|
"Nothing of the sort, sir!" screamed the little man.
|
|
"Don't look to me for a penny -- not a penny! You understand that,
|
|
Mr. Detective! I am all the family that this young man has got,
|
|
and I tell you that I am not responsible. If he has any expectations
|
|
it is due to the fact that I have never wasted money, and I do
|
|
not propose to begin to do so now. As to those papers with which
|
|
you are making so free, I may tell you that in case there should
|
|
be anything of any value among them you will be held strictly
|
|
to account for what you do with them."
|
|
|
|
"Very good, sir," said Sherlock Holmes. "May I ask in the
|
|
meanwhile whether you have yourself any theory to account for
|
|
this young man's disappearance?"
|
|
|
|
"No, sir, I have not. He is big enough and old enough to look
|
|
after himself, and if he is so foolish as to lose himself I
|
|
entirely refuse to accept the responsibility of hunting for him."
|
|
|
|
"I quite understand your position," said Holmes, with a
|
|
mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps you don't quite
|
|
understand mine. Godfrey Staunton appears to have been a poor
|
|
man. If he has been kidnapped it could not have been for
|
|
anything which he himself possesses. The fame of your wealth has
|
|
gone abroad, Lord Mount-James, and it is entirely possible that a
|
|
gang of thieves have secured your nephew in order to gain from him
|
|
some information as to your house, your habits, and your treasure."
|
|
|
|
The face of our unpleasant little visitor turned as white as
|
|
his neckcloth.
|
|
|
|
"Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy!
|
|
What inhuman rogues there are in the world! But Godfrey is a
|
|
fine lad -- a staunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give
|
|
his old uncle away. I'll have the plate moved over to the bank
|
|
this evening. In the meantime spare no pains, Mr. Detective!
|
|
I beg you to leave no stone unturned to bring him safely back.
|
|
As to money, well, so far as a fiver, or even a tenner, goes,
|
|
you can always look to me."
|
|
|
|
Even in his chastened frame of mind the noble miser could give
|
|
us no information which could help us, for he knew little of
|
|
the private life of his nephew. Our only clue lay in the
|
|
truncated telegram, and with a copy of this in his hand Holmes
|
|
set forth to find a second link for his chain. We had shaken off
|
|
Lord Mount-James, and Overton had gone to consult with the other
|
|
members of his team over the misfortune which had befallen them.
|
|
|
|
There was a telegraph-office at a short distance from the hotel.
|
|
We halted outside it.
|
|
|
|
"It's worth trying, Watson," said Holmes. "Of course, with
|
|
a warrant we could demand to see the counterfoils, but we have
|
|
not reached that stage yet. I don't suppose they remember faces
|
|
in so busy a place. Let us venture it."
|
|
|
|
"I am sorry to trouble you," said he, in his blandest manner,
|
|
to the young woman behind the grating; "there is some small
|
|
mistake about a telegram I sent yesterday. I have had no answer,
|
|
and I very much fear that I must have omitted to put my name
|
|
at the end. Could you tell me if this was so?"
|
|
|
|
The young woman turned over a sheaf of counterfoils.
|
|
|
|
"What o'clock was it?" she asked.
|
|
|
|
"A little after six."
|
|
|
|
"Whom was it to?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes put his finger to his lips and glanced at me.
|
|
"The last words in it were `for God's sake,'" he whispered,
|
|
confidentially; "I am very anxious at getting no answer."
|
|
|
|
The young woman separated one of the forms.
|
|
|
|
"This is it. There is no name," said she, smoothing it out
|
|
upon the counter.
|
|
|
|
"Then that, of course, accounts for my getting no answer,"
|
|
said Holmes. "Dear me, how very stupid of me, to be sure!
|
|
Good morning, miss, and many thanks for having relieved my mind."
|
|
He chuckled and rubbed his hands when we found ourselves in the
|
|
street once more.
|
|
|
|
"Well?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"We progress, my dear Watson, we progress. I had seven
|
|
different schemes for getting a glimpse of that telegram,
|
|
but I could hardly hope to succeed the very first time."
|
|
|
|
"And what have you gained?"
|
|
|
|
"A starting-point for our investigation." He hailed a cab.
|
|
"King's Cross Station," said he.
|
|
|
|
"We have a journey, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; I think we must run down to Cambridge together.
|
|
All the indications seem to me to point in that direction."
|
|
|
|
"Tell me," I asked, as we rattled up Gray's Inn Road,
|
|
"have you any suspicion yet as to the cause of the disappearance?
|
|
I don't think that among all our cases I have known one where the
|
|
motives are more obscure. Surely you don't really imagine that
|
|
he may be kidnapped in order to give information against his
|
|
wealthy uncle?"
|
|
|
|
"I confess, my dear Watson, that that does not appeal to
|
|
me as a very probable explanation. It struck me, however,
|
|
as being the one which was most likely to interest that
|
|
exceedingly unpleasant old person."
|
|
|
|
"It certainly did that. But what are your alternatives?"
|
|
|
|
"I could mention several. You must admit that it is curious
|
|
and suggestive that this incident should occur on the eve of this
|
|
important match, and should involve the only man whose presence
|
|
seems essential to the success of the side. It may, of course,
|
|
be coincidence, but it is interesting. Amateur sport is free
|
|
from betting, but a good deal of outside betting goes on among
|
|
the public, and it is possible that it might be worth someone's
|
|
while to get at a player as the ruffians of the turf get at a
|
|
race-horse. There is one explanation. A second very obvious one
|
|
is that this young man really is the heir of a great property,
|
|
however modest his means may at present be, and it is not
|
|
impossible that a plot to hold him for ransom might be concocted."
|
|
|
|
"These theories take no account of the telegram."
|
|
|
|
"Quite true, Watson. The telegram still remains the only
|
|
solid thing with which we have to deal, and we must not permit
|
|
our attention to wander away from it. It is to gain light upon
|
|
the purpose of this telegram that we are now upon our way to
|
|
Cambridge. The path of our investigation is at present obscure,
|
|
but I shall be very much surprised if before evening we have not
|
|
cleared it up or made a considerable advance along it."
|
|
|
|
It was already dark when we reached the old University city.
|
|
Holmes took a cab at the station, and ordered the man to drive to
|
|
the house of Dr. Leslie Armstrong. A few minutes later we had
|
|
stopped at a large mansion in the busiest thoroughfare. We were
|
|
shown in, and after a long wait were at last admitted into the
|
|
consulting-room, where we found the doctor seated behind his table.
|
|
|
|
It argues the degree in which I had lost touch with my
|
|
profession that the name of Leslie Armstrong was unknown to me.
|
|
Now I am aware that he is not only one of the heads of the
|
|
medical school of the University, but a thinker of European
|
|
reputation in more than one branch of science. Yet even without
|
|
knowing his brilliant record one could not fail to be impressed
|
|
by a mere glance at the man, the square, massive face, the
|
|
brooding eyes under the thatched brows, and the granite moulding
|
|
of the inflexible jaw. A man of deep character, a man with an
|
|
alert mind, grim, ascetic, self-contained, formidable -- so I read
|
|
Dr. Leslie Armstrong. He held my friend's card in his hand, and
|
|
he looked up with no very pleased expression upon his dour features.
|
|
|
|
"I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware
|
|
of your profession, one of which I by no means approve."
|
|
|
|
"In that, doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with
|
|
every criminal in the country," said my friend, quietly.
|
|
|
|
"So far as your efforts are directed towards the suppression
|
|
of crime, sir, they must have the support of every reasonable
|
|
member of the community, though I cannot doubt that the official
|
|
machinery is amply sufficient for the purpose. Where your
|
|
calling is more open to criticism is when you pry into the
|
|
secrets of private individuals, when you rake up family matters
|
|
which are better hidden, and when you incidentally waste the time
|
|
of men who are more busy than yourself. At the present moment,
|
|
for example, I should be writing a treatise instead of conversing
|
|
with you."
|
|
|
|
"No doubt, doctor; and yet the conversation may prove more
|
|
important than the treatise. Incidentally I may tell you that
|
|
we are doing the reverse of what you very justly blame, and that
|
|
we are endeavouring to prevent anything like public exposure of
|
|
private matters which must necessarily follow when once the case
|
|
is fairly in the hands of the official police. You may look
|
|
upon me simply as an irregular pioneer who goes in front of the
|
|
regular forces of the country. I have come to ask you about
|
|
Mr. Godfrey Staunton."
|
|
|
|
"What about him?"
|
|
|
|
"You know him, do you not?"
|
|
|
|
"He is an intimate friend of mine."
|
|
|
|
"You are aware that he has disappeared?"
|
|
|
|
"Ah, indeed!" There was no change of expression in the
|
|
rugged features of the doctor.
|
|
|
|
"He left his hotel last night. He has not been heard of."
|
|
|
|
"No doubt he will return."
|
|
|
|
"To-morrow is the 'Varsity football match."
|
|
|
|
"I have no sympathy with these childish games. The young
|
|
man's fate interests me deeply, since I know him and like him.
|
|
The football match does not come within my horizon at all."
|
|
|
|
"I claim your sympathy, then, in my investigation of Mr.
|
|
Staunton's fate. Do you know where he is?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"You have not seen him since yesterday?"
|
|
|
|
"No, I have not."
|
|
|
|
"Was Mr. Staunton a healthy man?"
|
|
|
|
"Absolutely."
|
|
|
|
"Did you ever know him ill?"
|
|
|
|
"Never."
|
|
|
|
Holmes popped a sheet of paper before the doctor's eyes.
|
|
"Then perhaps you will explain this receipted bill for thirteen
|
|
guineas, paid by Mr. Godfrey Staunton last month to Dr. Leslie
|
|
Armstrong of Cambridge. I picked it out from among the papers
|
|
upon his desk."
|
|
|
|
The doctor flushed with anger.
|
|
|
|
"I do not feel that there is any reason why I should render
|
|
an explanation to you, Mr. Holmes."
|
|
|
|
Holmes replaced the bill in his note-book. "If you prefer
|
|
a public explanation it must come sooner or later," said he.
|
|
"I have already told you that I can hush up that which others
|
|
will be bound to publish, and you would really be wiser to
|
|
take me into your complete confidence."
|
|
|
|
"I know nothing about it."
|
|
|
|
"Did you hear from Mr. Staunton in London?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly not."
|
|
|
|
"Dear me, dear me; the post-office again!" Holmes sighed,
|
|
wearily. "A most urgent telegram was dispatched to you from
|
|
London by Godfrey Staunton at six-fifteen yesterday evening --
|
|
a telegram which is undoubtedly associated with his disappearance
|
|
-- and yet you have not had it. It is most culpable. I shall
|
|
certainly go down to the office here and register a complaint."
|
|
|
|
Dr. Leslie Armstrong sprang up from behind his desk, and his
|
|
dark face was crimson with fury.
|
|
|
|
"I'll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir," said he.
|
|
"You can tell your employer, Lord Mount-James, that I do not
|
|
wish to have anything to do either with him or with his agents.
|
|
No, sir, not another word!" He rang the bell furiously.
|
|
"John, show these gentlemen out!" A pompous butler ushered
|
|
us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in the street.
|
|
Holmes burst out laughing.
|
|
|
|
"Dr. Leslie Armstrong is certainly a man of energy and
|
|
character," said he. "I have not seen a man who, if he turned
|
|
his talents that way, was more calculated to fill the gap left by
|
|
the illustrious Moriarty. And now, my poor Watson, here we are,
|
|
stranded and friendless in this inhospitable town, which we
|
|
cannot leave without abandoning our case. This little inn just
|
|
opposite Armstrong's house is singularly adapted to our needs.
|
|
If you would engage a front room and purchase the necessaries
|
|
for the night, I may have time to make a few inquiries."
|
|
|
|
These few inquiries proved, however, to be a more lengthy
|
|
proceeding than Holmes had imagined, for he did not return to
|
|
the inn until nearly nine o'clock. He was pale and dejected,
|
|
stained with dust, and exhausted with hunger and fatigue.
|
|
A cold supper was ready upon the table, and when his needs were
|
|
satisfied and his pipe alight he was ready to take that half comic
|
|
and wholly philosophic view which was natural to him when his
|
|
affairs were going awry. The sound of carriage wheels caused him
|
|
to rise and glance out of the window. A brougham and pair of greys
|
|
under the glare of a gas-lamp stood before the doctor's door.
|
|
|
|
"It's been out three hours," said Holmes; "started at half-past
|
|
six, and here it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or
|
|
twelve miles, and he does it once, or sometimes twice, a day."
|
|
|
|
"No unusual thing for a doctor in practice."
|
|
|
|
"But Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice. He is a
|
|
lecturer and a consultant, but he does not care for general
|
|
practice, which distracts him from his literary work.
|
|
Why, then, does he make these long journeys, which must be
|
|
exceedingly irksome to him, and who is it that he visits?"
|
|
|
|
"His coachman ----"
|
|
|
|
"My dear Watson, can you doubt that it was to him that I
|
|
first applied? I do not know whether it came from his own innate
|
|
depravity or from the promptings of his master, but he was rude
|
|
enough to set a dog at me. Neither dog nor man liked the look of
|
|
my stick, however, and the matter fell through. Relations were
|
|
strained after that, and further inquiries out of the question.
|
|
All that I have learned I got from a friendly native in the yard
|
|
of our own inn. It was he who told me of the doctor's habits and
|
|
of his daily journey. At that instant, to give point to his
|
|
words, the carriage came round to the door."
|
|
|
|
"Could you not follow it?"
|
|
|
|
"Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening.
|
|
The idea did cross my mind. There is, as you may have observed,
|
|
a bicycle shop next to our inn. Into this I rushed, engaged a
|
|
bicycle, and was able to get started before the carriage was
|
|
quite out of sight. I rapidly overtook it, and then, keeping at
|
|
a discreet distance of a hundred yards or so, I followed its
|
|
lights until we were clear of the town. We had got well out on
|
|
the country road when a somewhat mortifying incident occurred.
|
|
The carriage stopped, the doctor alighted, walked swiftly back to
|
|
where I had also halted, and told me in an excellent sardonic
|
|
fashion that he feared the road was narrow, and that he hoped his
|
|
carriage did not impede the passage of my bicycle. Nothing could
|
|
have been more admirable than his way of putting it. I at once
|
|
rode past the carriage, and, keeping to the main road, I went on
|
|
for a few miles, and then halted in a convenient place to see if
|
|
the carriage passed. There was no sign of it, however, and so it
|
|
became evident that it had turned down one of several side roads
|
|
which I had observed. I rode back, but again saw nothing of the
|
|
carriage, and now, as you perceive, it has returned after me.
|
|
Of course, I had at the outset no particular reason to connect
|
|
these journeys with the disappearance of Godfrey Staunton,
|
|
and was only inclined to investigate them on the general grounds
|
|
that everything which concerns Dr. Armstrong is at present of
|
|
interest to us; but, now that I find he keeps so keen a look-out
|
|
upon anyone who may follow him on these excursions, the affair
|
|
appears more important, and I shall not be satisfied until
|
|
I have made the matter clear."
|
|
|
|
"We can follow him to-morrow."
|
|
|
|
"Can we? It is not so easy as you seem to think. You are
|
|
not familiar with Cambridgeshire scenery, are you? It does not
|
|
lend itself to concealment. All this country that I passed over
|
|
to-night is as flat and clean as the palm of your hand, and the
|
|
man we are following is no fool, as he very clearly showed
|
|
to-night. I have wired to Overton to let us know any fresh
|
|
London developments at this address, and in the meantime we can
|
|
only concentrate our attention upon Dr. Armstrong, whose name
|
|
the obliging young lady at the office allowed me to read upon
|
|
the counterfoil of Staunton's urgent message. He knows where
|
|
the young man is -- to that I'll swear -- and if he knows,
|
|
then it must be our own fault if we cannot manage to know also.
|
|
At present it must be admitted that the odd trick is in his
|
|
possession, and, as you are aware, Watson, it is not my habit
|
|
to leave the game in that condition."
|
|
|
|
And yet the next day brought us no nearer to the solution of
|
|
the mystery. A note was handed in after breakfast, which Holmes
|
|
passed across to me with a smile.
|
|
|
|
"Sir," it ran, "I can assure you that you are wasting your time
|
|
in dogging my movements. I have, as you discovered last night,
|
|
a window at the back of my brougham, and if you desire a
|
|
twenty-mile ride which will lead you to the spot from which you
|
|
started, you have only to follow me. Meanwhile, I can inform you
|
|
that no spying upon me can in any way help Mr. Godfrey Staunton,
|
|
and I am convinced that the best service you can do to that
|
|
gentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your
|
|
employer that you are unable to trace him. Your time in
|
|
Cambridge will certainly be wasted.
|
|
"Yours faithfully,
|
|
"LESLIE ARMSTRONG."
|
|
|
|
"An outspoken, honest antagonist is the doctor," said Holmes.
|
|
"Well, well, he excites my curiosity, and I must really know
|
|
more before I leave him."
|
|
|
|
"His carriage is at his door now," said I. "There he is stepping
|
|
into it. I saw him glance up at our window as he did so.
|
|
Suppose I try my luck upon the bicycle?"
|
|
|
|
"No, no, my dear Watson! With all respect for your natural
|
|
acumen I do not think that you are quite a match for the worthy
|
|
doctor. I think that possibly I can attain our end by some
|
|
independent explorations of my own. I am afraid that I must
|
|
leave you to your own devices, as the appearance of TWO inquiring
|
|
strangers upon a sleepy countryside might excite more gossip than
|
|
I care for. No doubt you will find some sights to amuse you in
|
|
this venerable city, and I hope to bring back a more favourable
|
|
report to you before evening."
|
|
|
|
Once more, however, my friend was destined to be disappointed.
|
|
He came back at night weary and unsuccessful.
|
|
|
|
"I have had a blank day, Watson. Having got the doctor's
|
|
general direction, I spent the day in visiting all the villages
|
|
upon that side of Cambridge, and comparing notes with publicans
|
|
and other local news agencies. I have covered some ground:
|
|
Chesterton, Histon, Waterbeach, and Oakington have each been
|
|
explored and have each proved disappointing. The daily
|
|
appearance of a brougham and pair could hardly have been
|
|
overlooked in such Sleepy Hollows. The doctor has scored once
|
|
more. Is there a telegram for me?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; I opened it. Here it is: `Ask for Pompey from Jeremy
|
|
Dixon, Trinity College.' I don't understand it."
|
|
|
|
"Oh, it is clear enough. It is from our friend Overton,
|
|
and is in answer to a question from me. I'll just send round
|
|
a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon, and then I have no doubt that our
|
|
luck will turn. By the way, is there any news of the match?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, the local evening paper has an excellent account in its
|
|
last edition. Oxford won by a goal and two tries. The last
|
|
sentences of the description say: `The defeat of the Light Blues
|
|
may be entirely attributed to the unfortunate absence of the crack
|
|
International, Godfrey Staunton, whose want was felt at every
|
|
instant of the game. The lack of combination in the three-quarter
|
|
line and their weakness both in attack and defence more than
|
|
neutralized the efforts of a heavy and hard-working pack.'"
|
|
|
|
"Then our friend Overton's forebodings have been justified,"
|
|
said Holmes. "Personally I am in agreement with Dr. Armstrong,
|
|
and football does not come within my horizon. Early to bed to-night,
|
|
Watson, for I foresee that to-morrow may be an eventful day."
|
|
|
|
|
|
I was horrified by my first glimpse of Holmes next morning,
|
|
for he sat by the fire holding his tiny hypodermic syringe.
|
|
I associated that instrument with the single weakness of his
|
|
nature, and I feared the worst when I saw it glittering in his
|
|
hand. He laughed at my expression of dismay, and laid it upon
|
|
the table.
|
|
|
|
"No, no, my dear fellow, there is no cause for alarm. It is
|
|
not upon this occasion the instrument of evil, but it will rather
|
|
prove to be the key which will unlock our mystery. On this
|
|
syringe I base all my hopes. I have just returned from a small
|
|
scouting expedition and everything is favourable. Eat a good
|
|
breakfast, Watson, for I propose to get upon Dr. Armstrong's
|
|
trail to-day, and once on it I will not stop for rest or food
|
|
until I run him to his burrow."
|
|
|
|
"In that case," said I, "we had best carry our breakfast with us,
|
|
for he is making an early start. His carriage is at the door."
|
|
|
|
"Never mind. Let him go. He will be clever if he can drive
|
|
where I cannot follow him. When you have finished come
|
|
downstairs with me, and I will introduce you to a detective who
|
|
is a very eminent specialist in the work that lies before us."
|
|
|
|
When we descended I followed Holmes into the stable yard, where
|
|
he opened the door of a loose-box and led out a squat, lop-eared,
|
|
white-and-tan dog, something between a beagle and a foxhound.
|
|
|
|
"Let me introduce you to Pompey," said he. "Pompey is the
|
|
pride of the local draghounds, no very great flier, as his build
|
|
will show, but a staunch hound on a scent. Well, Pompey, you may
|
|
not be fast, but I expect you will be too fast for a couple of
|
|
middle-aged London gentlemen, so I will take the liberty of
|
|
fastening this leather leash to your collar. Now, boy, come
|
|
along, and show what you can do." He led him across to the
|
|
doctor's door. The dog sniffed round for an instant, and then
|
|
with a shrill whine of excitement started off down the street,
|
|
tugging at his leash in his efforts to go faster. In half an hour,
|
|
we were clear of the town and hastening down a country road.
|
|
|
|
"What have you done, Holmes?" I asked.
|
|
|
|
"A threadbare and venerable device, but useful upon occasion.
|
|
I walked into the doctor's yard this morning and shot my
|
|
syringe full of aniseed over the hind wheel. A draghound will
|
|
follow aniseed from here to John o' Groat's, and our friend
|
|
Armstrong would have to drive through the Cam before he would
|
|
shake Pompey off his trail. Oh, the cunning rascal!
|
|
This is how he gave me the slip the other night."
|
|
|
|
The dog had suddenly turned out of the main road into a
|
|
grass-grown lane. Half a mile farther this opened into another
|
|
broad road, and the trail turned hard to the right in the
|
|
direction of the town, which we had just quitted. The road took
|
|
a sweep to the south of the town and continued in the opposite
|
|
direction to that in which we started.
|
|
|
|
"This DETOUR has been entirely for our benefit, then?" said
|
|
Holmes. "No wonder that my inquiries among those villages led
|
|
to nothing. The doctor has certainly played the game for all
|
|
it is worth, and one would like to know the reason for such
|
|
elaborate deception. This should be the village of Trumpington
|
|
to the right of us. And, by Jove! here is the brougham coming
|
|
round the corner. Quick, Watson, quick, or we are done!"
|
|
|
|
He sprang through a gate into a field, dragging the
|
|
reluctant Pompey after him. We had hardly got under the shelter
|
|
of the hedge when the carriage rattled past. I caught a glimpse
|
|
of Dr. Armstrong within, his shoulders bowed, his head sunk on
|
|
his hands, the very image of distress. I could tell by my
|
|
companion's graver face that he also had seen.
|
|
|
|
"I fear there is some dark ending to our quest," said he.
|
|
"It cannot be long before we know it. Come, Pompey!
|
|
Ah, it is the cottage in the field!"
|
|
|
|
There could be no doubt that we had reached the end of our
|
|
journey. Pompey ran about and whined eagerly outside the gate
|
|
where the marks of the brougham's wheels were still to be seen.
|
|
A footpath led across to the lonely cottage. Holmes tied the dog
|
|
to the hedge, and we hastened onwards. My friend knocked at the
|
|
little rustic door, and knocked again without response. And yet
|
|
the cottage was not deserted, for a low sound came to our ears --
|
|
a kind of drone of misery and despair, which was indescribably
|
|
melancholy. Holmes paused irresolute, and then he glanced back
|
|
at the road which we had just traversed. A brougham was coming
|
|
down it, and there could be no mistaking those grey horses.
|
|
|
|
"By Jove, the doctor is coming back!" cried Holmes. "That
|
|
settles it. We are bound to see what it means before he comes."
|
|
|
|
He opened the door and we stepped into the hall. The droning
|
|
sound swelled louder upon our ears until it became one long,
|
|
deep wail of distress. It came from upstairs. Holmes darted
|
|
up and I followed him. He pushed open a half-closed door
|
|
and we both stood appalled at the sight before us.
|
|
|
|
A woman, young and beautiful, was lying dead upon the bed.
|
|
Her calm, pale face, with dim, wide-opened blue eyes, looked
|
|
upward from amid a great tangle of golden hair. At the foot of
|
|
the bed, half sitting, half kneeling, his face buried in the
|
|
clothes, was a young man, whose frame was racked by his sobs.
|
|
So absorbed was he by his bitter grief that he never looked
|
|
up until Holmes's hand was on his shoulder.
|
|
|
|
"Are you Mr. Godfrey Staunton?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, yes; I am -- but you are too late. She is dead."
|
|
|
|
The man was so dazed that he could not be made to understand
|
|
that we were anything but doctors who had been sent to his
|
|
assistance. Holmes was endeavouring to utter a few words of
|
|
consolation, and to explain the alarm which had been caused to
|
|
his friends by his sudden disappearance, when there was a step
|
|
upon the stairs, and there was the heavy, stern, questioning
|
|
face of Dr. Armstrong at the door.
|
|
|
|
"So, gentlemen," said he, "you have attained your end, and
|
|
have certainly chosen a particularly delicate moment for your
|
|
intrusion. I would not brawl in the presence of death, but I can
|
|
assure you that if I were a younger man your monstrous conduct
|
|
would not pass with impunity."
|
|
|
|
"Excuse me, Dr. Armstrong, I think we are a little at
|
|
cross-purposes," said my friend, with dignity. "If you could
|
|
step downstairs with us we may each be able to give some light
|
|
to the other upon this miserable affair."
|
|
|
|
A minute later the grim doctor and ourselves were in the
|
|
sitting-room below.
|
|
|
|
"Well, sir?" said he.
|
|
|
|
"I wish you to understand, in the first place, that I am not
|
|
employed by Lord Mount-James, and that my sympathies in this
|
|
matter are entirely against that nobleman. When a man is lost it
|
|
is my duty to ascertain his fate, but having done so the matter
|
|
ends so far as I am concerned; and so long as there is nothing
|
|
criminal, I am much more anxious to hush up private scandals than
|
|
to give them publicity. If, as I imagine, there is no breach of
|
|
the law in this matter, you can absolutely depend upon my discretion
|
|
and my co-operation in keeping the facts out of the papers."
|
|
|
|
Dr. Armstrong took a quick step forward and wrung Holmes by the hand.
|
|
|
|
"You are a good fellow," said he. "I had misjudged you.
|
|
I thank Heaven that my compunction at leaving poor Staunton
|
|
all alone in this plight caused me to turn my carriage back,
|
|
and so to make your acquaintance. Knowing as much as you do,
|
|
the situation is very easily explained. A year ago Godfrey Staunton
|
|
lodged in London for a time, and became passionately attached to
|
|
his landlady's daughter, whom he married. She was as good as she
|
|
was beautiful, and as intelligent as she was good. No man need
|
|
be ashamed of such a wife. But Godfrey was the heir to this
|
|
crabbed old nobleman, and it was quite certain that the news of
|
|
his marriage would have been the end of his inheritance. I knew
|
|
the lad well, and I loved him for his many excellent qualities.
|
|
I did all I could to help him to keep things straight. We did
|
|
our very best to keep the thing from everyone, for when once such
|
|
a whisper gets about it is not long before everyone has heard it.
|
|
Thanks to this lonely cottage and his own discretion, Godfrey has
|
|
up to now succeeded. Their secret was known to no one save to me
|
|
and to one excellent servant who has at present gone for
|
|
assistance to Trumpington. But at last there came a terrible
|
|
blow in the shape of dangerous illness to his wife. It was
|
|
consumption of the most virulent kind. The poor boy was half
|
|
crazed with grief, and yet he had to go to London to play this
|
|
match, for he could not get out of it without explanations which
|
|
would expose his secret. I tried to cheer him up by a wire, and
|
|
he sent me one in reply imploring me to do all I could. This was
|
|
the telegram which you appear in some inexplicable way to have
|
|
seen. I did not tell him how urgent the danger was, for I knew
|
|
that he could do no good here, but I sent the truth to the girl's
|
|
father, and he very injudiciously communicated it to Godfrey.
|
|
The result was that he came straight away in a state bordering on
|
|
frenzy, and has remained in the same state, kneeling at the end
|
|
of her bed, until this morning death put an end to her sufferings.
|
|
That is all, Mr. Holmes, and I am sure that I can rely upon your
|
|
discretion and that of your friend."
|
|
|
|
Holmes grasped the doctor's hand.
|
|
|
|
"Come, Watson," said he, and we passed from that house of grief
|
|
into the pale sunlight of the winter day.
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
THE STRAND MAGAZINE
|
|
Vol. 28 SEPTEMBER, 1904
|
|
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
|
|
By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
|
|
|
|
XII. --- The Adventure of the Abbey Grange.
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning during the winter
|
|
of '97 that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was
|
|
Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping
|
|
face and told me at a glance that something was amiss.
|
|
|
|
"Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word!
|
|
Into your clothes and come!"
|
|
|
|
Ten minutes later we were both in a cab and rattling through the
|
|
silent streets on our way to Charing Cross Station. The first
|
|
faint winter's dawn was beginning to appear, and we could dimly
|
|
see the occasional figure of an early workman as he passed us,
|
|
blurred and indistinct in the opalescent London reek. Holmes
|
|
nestled in silence into his heavy coat, and I was glad to do the
|
|
same, for the air was most bitter and neither of us had broken
|
|
our fast. It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the
|
|
station, and taken our places in the Kentish train, that we were
|
|
sufficiently thawed, he to speak and I to listen. Holmes drew a
|
|
note from his pocket and read it aloud:--
|
|
|
|
"Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent,
|
|
"3.30 a.m.
|
|
"MY DEAR MR. HOLMES, --- I should be very glad of your immediate
|
|
assistance in what promises to be a most remarkable case.
|
|
It is something quite in your line. Except for releasing the lady
|
|
I will see that everything is kept exactly as I have found it,
|
|
but I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficult to leave
|
|
Sir Eustace there.
|
|
"Yours faithfully, STANLEY HOPKINS."
|
|
|
|
"Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion
|
|
his summons has been entirely justified," said Holmes.
|
|
"I fancy that every one of his cases has found its way into your
|
|
collection, and I must admit, Watson, that you have some power
|
|
of selection which atones for much which I deplore in your
|
|
narratives. Your fatal habit of looking at everything from the
|
|
point of view of a story instead of as a scientific exercise has
|
|
ruined what might have been an instructive and even classical
|
|
series of demonstrations. You slur over work of the utmost
|
|
finesse and delicacy in order to dwell upon sensational details
|
|
which may excite, but cannot possibly instruct, the reader."
|
|
|
|
"Why do you not write them yourself?" I said, with some bitterness.
|
|
|
|
"I will, my dear Watson, I will. At present I am, as you know,
|
|
fairly busy, but I propose to devote my declining years to the
|
|
composition of a text-book which shall focus the whole art of
|
|
detection into one volume. Our present research appears to be
|
|
a case of murder."
|
|
|
|
"You think this Sir Eustace is dead, then?"
|
|
|
|
"I should say so. Hopkins's writing shows considerable
|
|
agitation, and he is not an emotional man. Yes, I gather there
|
|
has been violence, and that the body is left for our inspection.
|
|
A mere suicide would not have caused him to send for me.
|
|
As to the release of the lady, it would appear that she has been
|
|
locked in her room during the tragedy. We are moving in high life,
|
|
Watson; crackling paper, `E.B.' monogram, coat-of-arms,
|
|
picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins will live up
|
|
to his reputation and that we shall have an interesting
|
|
morning. The crime was committed before twelve last night."
|
|
|
|
"How can you possibly tell?"
|
|
|
|
"By an inspection of the trains and by reckoning the time.
|
|
The local police had to be called in, they had to communicate
|
|
with Scotland Yard, Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had
|
|
to send for me. All that makes a fair night's work.
|
|
Well, here we are at Chislehurst Station, and we shall soon
|
|
set our doubts at rest."
|
|
|
|
A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes
|
|
brought us to a park gate, which was opened for us by an old
|
|
lodge-keeper, whose haggard face bore the reflection of some
|
|
great disaster. The avenue ran through a noble park, between
|
|
lines of ancient elms, and ended in a low, widespread house,
|
|
pillared in front after the fashion of Palladio. The central
|
|
part was evidently of a great age and shrouded in ivy, but the
|
|
large windows showed that modern changes had been carried out,
|
|
and one wing of the house appeared to be entirely new.
|
|
The youthful figure and alert, eager face of Inspector Stanley
|
|
Hopkins confronted us in the open doorway.
|
|
|
|
"I'm very glad you have come, Mr. Holmes. And you too,
|
|
Dr. Watson! But, indeed, if I had my time over again I
|
|
should not have troubled you, for since the lady has come to
|
|
herself she has given so clear an account of the affair that
|
|
there is not much left for us to do. You remember that
|
|
Lewisham gang of burglars?"
|
|
|
|
"What, the three Randalls?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly; the father and two sons. It's their work.
|
|
I have not a doubt of it. They did a job at Sydenham a
|
|
fortnight ago, and were seen and described. Rather cool
|
|
to do another so soon and so near, but it is they,
|
|
beyond all doubt. It's a hanging matter this time."
|
|
|
|
"Sir Eustace is dead, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; his head was knocked in with his own poker."
|
|
|
|
"Sir Eustace Brackenstall, the driver tells me."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly -- one of the richest men in Kent.
|
|
Lady Brackenstall is in the morning-room. Poor lady,
|
|
she has had a most dreadful experience. She seemed half
|
|
dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see her
|
|
and hear her account of the facts. Then we will examine
|
|
the dining-room together."
|
|
|
|
Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Seldom have I seen
|
|
so graceful a figure, so womanly a presence, and so beautiful
|
|
a face. She was a blonde, golden-haired, blue-eyed, and would,
|
|
no doubt, have had the perfect complexion which goes with such
|
|
colouring had not her recent experience left her drawn and
|
|
haggard. Her sufferings were physical as well as mental, for
|
|
over one eye rose a hideous, plum-coloured swelling, which her
|
|
maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing assiduously with
|
|
vinegar and water. The lady lay back exhausted upon a couch,
|
|
but her quick, observant gaze as we entered the room, and the
|
|
alert expression of her beautiful features, showed that neither
|
|
her wits nor her courage had been shaken by her terrible
|
|
experience. She was enveloped in a loose dressing-gown of blue
|
|
and silver, but a black sequin-covered dinner-dress was hung
|
|
upon the couch beside her.
|
|
|
|
"I have told you all that happened, Mr. Hopkins," she said,
|
|
wearily; "could you not repeat it for me? Well, if you think
|
|
it necessary, I will tell these gentlemen what occurred.
|
|
Have they been in the dining-room yet?"
|
|
|
|
"I thought they had better hear your ladyship's story first."
|
|
|
|
"I shall be glad when you can arrange matters. It is horrible
|
|
to me to think of him still lying there." She shuddered and
|
|
buried her face in her hands. As she did so the loose gown
|
|
fell back from her forearms. Holmes uttered an exclamation.
|
|
|
|
"You have other injuries, madam! What is this?"
|
|
Two vivid red spots stood out on one of the white, round limbs.
|
|
She hastily covered it.
|
|
|
|
"It is nothing. It has no connection with the hideous business
|
|
of last night. If you and your friend will sit down I will
|
|
tell you all I can.
|
|
|
|
"I am the wife of Sir Eustace Brackenstall. I have been married
|
|
about a year. I suppose that it is no use my attempting to
|
|
conceal that our marriage has not been a happy one.
|
|
I fear that all our neighbours would tell you that, even if I
|
|
were to attempt to deny it. Perhaps the fault may be partly mine.
|
|
I was brought up in the freer, less conventional atmosphere of
|
|
South Australia, and this English life, with its proprieties and
|
|
its primness, is not congenial to me. But the main reason lies
|
|
in the one fact which is notorious to everyone, and that is that
|
|
Sir Eustace was a confirmed drunkard. To be with such a man for
|
|
an hour is unpleasant. Can you imagine what it means for a
|
|
sensitive and high-spirited woman to be tied to him for day and
|
|
night? It is a sacrilege, a crime, a villainy to hold that such
|
|
a marriage is binding. I say that these monstrous laws of yours
|
|
will bring a curse upon the land -- Heaven will not let such
|
|
wickedness endure." For an instant she sat up, her cheeks flushed,
|
|
and her eyes blazing from under the terrible mark upon her brow.
|
|
Then the strong, soothing hand of the austere maid drew her head
|
|
down on to the cushion, and the wild anger died away into
|
|
passionate sobbing. At last she continued:--
|
|
|
|
"I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps,
|
|
that in this house all servants sleep in the modern wing.
|
|
This central block is made up of the dwelling-rooms, with the
|
|
kitchen behind and our bedroom above. My maid Theresa sleeps
|
|
above my room. There is no one else, and no sound could alarm
|
|
those who are in the farther wing. This must have been well
|
|
known to the robbers, or they would not have acted as they did.
|
|
|
|
"Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The servants had
|
|
already gone to their quarters. Only my maid was up, and she
|
|
had remained in her room at the top of the house until I needed
|
|
her services. I sat until after eleven in this room, absorbed
|
|
in a book. Then I walked round to see that all was right before
|
|
I went upstairs. It was my custom to do this myself, for,
|
|
as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted.
|
|
I went into the kitchen, the butler's pantry, the gun-room,
|
|
the billiard-room, the drawing-room, and finally the dining-room.
|
|
As I approached the window, which is covered with thick curtains,
|
|
I suddenly felt the wind blow upon my face and realized that it
|
|
was open. I flung the curtain aside and found myself face to
|
|
face with a broad-shouldered, elderly man who had just stepped
|
|
into the room. The window is a long French one, which really
|
|
forms a door leading to the lawn. I held my bedroom candle
|
|
lit in my hand, and, by its light, behind the first man I saw
|
|
two others, who were in the act of entering. I stepped back,
|
|
but the fellow was on me in an instant. He caught me first by
|
|
the wrist and then by the throat. I opened my mouth to scream,
|
|
but he struck me a savage blow with his fist over the eye,
|
|
and felled me to the ground. I must have been unconscious for
|
|
a few minutes, for when I came to myself I found that they
|
|
had torn down the bell-rope and had secured me tightly to the
|
|
oaken chair which stands at the head of the dining-room table.
|
|
I was so firmly bound that I could not move, and a handkerchief
|
|
round my mouth prevented me from uttering any sound. It was at
|
|
this instant that my unfortunate husband entered the room.
|
|
He had evidently heard some suspicious sounds, and he came
|
|
prepared for such a scene as he found. He was dressed in his
|
|
shirt and trousers, with his favourite blackthorn cudgel in his
|
|
hand. He rushed at one of the burglars, but another -- it was
|
|
the elderly man -- stooped, picked the poker out of the grate,
|
|
and struck him a horrible blow as he passed. He fell without
|
|
a groan, and never moved again. I fainted once more, but again
|
|
it could only have been a very few minutes during which I was
|
|
insensible. When I opened my eyes I found that they had
|
|
collected the silver from the sideboard, and they had drawn
|
|
a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had a glass
|
|
in his hand. I have already told you, have I not, that one
|
|
was elderly, with a beard, and the others young, hairless lads.
|
|
They might have been a father with his two sons. They talked
|
|
together in whispers. Then they came over and made sure that
|
|
I was still securely bound. Finally they withdrew, closing
|
|
the window after them. It was quite a quarter of an hour
|
|
before I got my mouth free. When I did so my screams brought
|
|
the maid to my assistance. The other servants were soon alarmed,
|
|
and we sent for the local police, who instantly communicated
|
|
with London. That is really all that I can tell you, gentlemen,
|
|
and I trust that it will not be necessary for me to go over so
|
|
painful a story again."
|
|
|
|
"Any questions, Mr. Holmes?" asked Hopkins.
|
|
|
|
"I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's
|
|
patience and time," said Holmes. "Before I go into the
|
|
dining-room I should like to hear your experience."
|
|
He looked at the maid.
|
|
|
|
"I saw the men before ever they came into the house," said she.
|
|
"As I sat by my bedroom window I saw three men in the moonlight
|
|
down by the lodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at
|
|
the time. It was more than an hour after that I heard my
|
|
mistress scream, and down I ran, to find her, poor lamb, just as
|
|
she says, and him on the floor with his blood and brains over
|
|
the room. It was enough to drive a woman out of her wits, tied
|
|
there, and her very dress spotted with him; but she never wanted
|
|
courage, did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide, and Lady Brackenstall
|
|
of Abbey Grange hasn't learned new ways. You've questioned her
|
|
long enough, you gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room,
|
|
just with her old Theresa, to get the rest that she badly needs."
|
|
|
|
With a motherly tenderness the gaunt woman put her arm round her
|
|
mistress and led her from the room.
|
|
|
|
"She has been with her all her life," said Hopkins.
|
|
"Nursed her as a baby, and came with her to England
|
|
when they first left Australia eighteen months ago.
|
|
Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maid you don't
|
|
pick up nowadays. This way, Mr. Holmes, if you please!"
|
|
|
|
The keen interest had passed out of Holmes's expressive face,
|
|
and I knew that with the mystery all the charm of the case had
|
|
departed. There still remained an arrest to be effected,
|
|
but what were these commonplace rogues that he should soil his
|
|
hands with them? An abstruse and learned specialist who finds
|
|
that he has been called in for a case of measles would experience
|
|
something of the annoyance which I read in my friend's eyes.
|
|
Yet the scene in the dining-room of the Abbey Grange was
|
|
sufficiently strange to arrest his attention and to recall
|
|
his waning interest.
|
|
|
|
It was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling,
|
|
oaken panelling, and a fine array of deer's heads and ancient
|
|
weapons around the walls. At the farther end from the door was
|
|
the high French window of which we had heard. Three smaller
|
|
windows on the right-hand side filled the apartment with cold
|
|
winter sunshine. On the left was a large, deep fireplace, with
|
|
a massive, over-hanging oak mantelpiece. Beside the fireplace
|
|
was a heavy oaken chair with arms and cross-bars at the bottom.
|
|
In and out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord,
|
|
which was secured at each side to the crosspiece below.
|
|
In releasing the lady the cord had been slipped off her,
|
|
but the knots with which it had been secured still remained.
|
|
These details only struck our attention afterwards, for our
|
|
thoughts were entirely absorbed by the terrible object which
|
|
lay upon the tiger-skin hearthrug in front of the fire.
|
|
|
|
It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about forty years of
|
|
age. He lay upon his back, his face upturned, with his white
|
|
teeth grinning through his short black beard. His two clenched
|
|
hands were raised above his head, and a heavy blackthorn stick
|
|
lay across them. His dark, handsome, aquiline features were
|
|
convulsed into a spasm of vindictive hatred, which had set his
|
|
dead face in a terribly fiendish expression. He had evidently
|
|
been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, for he wore a
|
|
foppish embroidered night-shirt, and his bare feet projected from
|
|
his trousers. His head was horribly injured, and the whole room
|
|
bore witness to the savage ferocity of the blow which had struck
|
|
him down. Beside him lay the heavy poker, bent into a curve by
|
|
the concussion. Holmes examined both it and the indescribable
|
|
wreck which it had wrought.
|
|
|
|
"He must be a powerful man, this elder Randall," he remarked.
|
|
|
|
"Yes," said Hopkins. "I have some record of the fellow,
|
|
and he is a rough customer."
|
|
|
|
"You should have no difficulty in getting him."
|
|
|
|
"Not the slightest. We have been on the look-out for him,
|
|
and there was some idea that he had got away to America.
|
|
Now that we know the gang are here I don't see how they
|
|
can escape. We have the news at every seaport already,
|
|
and a reward will be offered before evening. What beats
|
|
me is how they could have done so mad a thing, knowing
|
|
that the lady could describe them, and that we could not
|
|
fail to recognise the description."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. One would have expected that they would have
|
|
silenced Lady Brackenstall as well."
|
|
|
|
"They may not have realized," I suggested, "that she had
|
|
recovered from her faint."
|
|
|
|
"That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless they
|
|
would not take her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins?
|
|
I seem to have heard some queer stories about him."
|
|
|
|
"He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect
|
|
fiend when he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk,
|
|
for he seldom really went the whole way. The devil seemed
|
|
to be in him at such times, and he was capable of anything.
|
|
From what I hear, in spite of all his wealth and his title,
|
|
he very nearly came our way once or twice. There was a
|
|
scandal about his drenching a dog with petroleum and setting
|
|
it on fire -- her ladyship's dog, to make the matter worse --
|
|
and that was only hushed up with difficulty. Then he threw
|
|
a decanter at that maid, Theresa Wright; there was trouble
|
|
about that. On the whole, and between ourselves, it will be
|
|
a brighter house without him. What are you looking at now?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes was down on his knees examining with great attention the
|
|
knots upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured.
|
|
Then he carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where
|
|
it had snapped off when the burglar had dragged it down.
|
|
|
|
"When this was pulled down the bell in the kitchen must have
|
|
rung loudly," he remarked.
|
|
|
|
"No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back
|
|
of the house."
|
|
|
|
"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he
|
|
pull at a bell-rope in that reckless fashion?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which
|
|
I have asked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that
|
|
this fellow must have known the house and its habits. He must
|
|
have perfectly understood that the servants would all be in bed
|
|
at that comparatively early hour, and that no one could possibly
|
|
hear a bell ring in the kitchen. Therefore he must have been in
|
|
close league with one of the servants. Surely that is evident.
|
|
But there are eight servants, and all of good character."
|
|
|
|
"Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the
|
|
one at whose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that
|
|
would involve treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman
|
|
seems devoted. Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when
|
|
you have Randall you will probably find no difficulty in
|
|
securing his accomplice. The lady's story certainly seems to be
|
|
corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by every detail which
|
|
we see before us." He walked to the French window and threw it
|
|
open. "There are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard,
|
|
and one would not expect them. I see that these candles on the
|
|
mantelpiece have been lighted."
|
|
|
|
"Yes; it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom
|
|
candle that the burglars saw their way about."
|
|
|
|
"And what did they take?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, they did not take much -- only half-a-dozen articles of
|
|
plate off the sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they
|
|
were themselves so disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that
|
|
they did not ransack the house as they would otherwise have done."
|
|
|
|
"No doubt that is true. And yet they drank some wine, I understand."
|
|
|
|
"To steady their own nerves."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been
|
|
untouched, I suppose?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; and the bottle stands as they left it."
|
|
|
|
"Let us look at it. Halloa! halloa! what is this?"
|
|
|
|
The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged
|
|
with wine, and one of them containing some dregs of bees-wing.
|
|
The bottle stood near them, two-thirds full, and beside it lay
|
|
a long, deeply-stained cork. Its appearance and the dust upon
|
|
the bottle showed that it was no common vintage which the
|
|
murderers had enjoyed.
|
|
|
|
A change had come over Holmes's manner. He had lost his listless
|
|
expression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen,
|
|
deep-set eyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely.
|
|
|
|
"How did they draw it?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
Hopkins pointed to a half-opened drawer. In it lay some table
|
|
linen and a large cork-screw.
|
|
|
|
"Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?"
|
|
|
|
"No; you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the
|
|
bottle was opened."
|
|
|
|
"Quite so. As a matter of fact that screw was NOT used.
|
|
This bottle was opened by a pocket-screw, probably contained
|
|
in a knife, and not more than an inch and a half long. If you
|
|
examine the top of the cork you will observe that the screw was
|
|
driven in three times before the cork was extracted. It has never
|
|
been transfixed. This long screw would have transfixed it and
|
|
drawn it with a single pull. When you catch this fellow you will
|
|
find that he has one of these multiplex knives in his possession."
|
|
|
|
"Excellent!" said Hopkins.
|
|
|
|
"But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall
|
|
actually SAW the three men drinking, did she not?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; she was clear about that."
|
|
|
|
"Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said?
|
|
And yet you must admit that the three glasses are very
|
|
remarkable, Hopkins. What, you see nothing remarkable!
|
|
Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps when a man has special
|
|
knowledge and special powers like my own it rather encourages
|
|
him to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at hand.
|
|
Of course, it must be a mere chance about the glasses.
|
|
Well, good morning, Hopkins. I don't see that I can be of
|
|
any use to you, and you appear to have your case very clear.
|
|
You will let me know when Randall is arrested, and any further
|
|
developments which may occur. I trust that I shall soon have
|
|
to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come, Watson,
|
|
I fancy that we may employ ourselves more profitably at home."
|
|
|
|
During our return journey I could see by Holmes's face that
|
|
he was much puzzled by something which he had observed.
|
|
Every now and then, by an effort, he would throw off the
|
|
impression and talk as if the matter were clear, but then his
|
|
doubts would settle down upon him again, and his knitted brows
|
|
and abstracted eyes would show that his thoughts had gone back
|
|
once more to the great dining-room of the Abbey Grange in which
|
|
this midnight tragedy had been enacted. At last, by a sudden
|
|
impulse, just as our train was crawling out of a suburban station,
|
|
he sprang on to the platform and pulled me out after him.
|
|
|
|
"Excuse me, my dear fellow," said he, as we watched the rear
|
|
carriages of our train disappearing round a curve; "I am sorry
|
|
to make you the victim of what may seem a mere whim, but on my
|
|
life, Watson, I simply CAN'T leave that case in this condition.
|
|
Every instinct that I possess cries out against it.
|
|
It's wrong -- it's all wrong -- I'll swear that it's wrong.
|
|
And yet the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroboration
|
|
was sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put
|
|
against that? Three wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had
|
|
not taken things for granted, if I had examined everything with
|
|
care which I would have shown had we approached the case DE NOVO
|
|
and had no cut-and-dried story to warp my mind, would I not then
|
|
have found something more definite to go upon? Of course I should.
|
|
Sit down on this bench, Watson, until a train for Chislehurst
|
|
arrives, and allow me to lay the evidence before you, imploring
|
|
you in the first instance to dismiss from your mind the idea that
|
|
anything which the maid or her mistress may have said must
|
|
necessarily be true. The lady's charming personality must not
|
|
be permitted to warp our judgment.
|
|
|
|
"Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at it
|
|
in cold blood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made
|
|
a considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account
|
|
of them and of their appearance was in the papers, and would
|
|
naturally occur to anyone who wished to invent a story in which
|
|
imaginary robbers should play a part. As a matter of fact,
|
|
burglars who have done a good stroke of business are, as a rule,
|
|
only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without
|
|
embarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusual
|
|
for burglars to operate at so early an hour; it is unusual for
|
|
burglars to strike a lady to prevent her screaming, since one
|
|
would imagine that was the sure way to make her scream; it is
|
|
unusual for them to commit murder when their numbers are
|
|
sufficient to overpower one man; it is unusual for them to be
|
|
content with a limited plunder when there is much more within
|
|
their reach; and finally I should say that it was very unusual
|
|
for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these
|
|
unusuals strike you, Watson?"
|
|
|
|
"Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each
|
|
of them is quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all,
|
|
as it seems to me, is that the lady should be tied to the chair."
|
|
|
|
"Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson; for it is evident
|
|
that they must either kill her or else secure her in such a
|
|
way that she could not give immediate notice of their escape.
|
|
But at any rate I have shown, have I not, that there is a certain
|
|
element of improbability about the lady's story? And now
|
|
on the top of this comes the incident of the wine-glasses."
|
|
|
|
"What about the wine-glasses?"
|
|
|
|
"Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
|
|
|
|
"I see them clearly."
|
|
|
|
"We are told that three men drank from them.
|
|
Does that strike you as likely?"
|
|
|
|
"Why not? There was wine in each glass."
|
|
|
|
"Exactly; but there was bees-wing only in one glass. You must
|
|
have noticed that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?"
|
|
|
|
"The last glass filled would be most likely to contain bees-wing."
|
|
|
|
"Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable
|
|
that the first two glasses were clear and the third heavily
|
|
charged with it. There are two possible explanations, and only
|
|
two. One is that after the second glass was filled the bottle
|
|
was violently agitated, and so the third glass received the
|
|
bees-wing. That does not appear probable. No, no; I am sure
|
|
that I am right."
|
|
|
|
"What, then, do you suppose?"
|
|
|
|
"That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of
|
|
both were poured into a third glass, so as to give the false
|
|
impression that three people had been here. In that way all
|
|
the bees-wing would be in the last glass, would it not? Yes,
|
|
I am convinced that this is so. But if I have hit upon the true
|
|
explanation of this one small phenomenon, then in an instant the
|
|
case rises from the commonplace to the exceedingly remarkable,
|
|
for it can only mean that Lady Brackenstall and her maid have
|
|
deliberately lied to us, that not one word of their story is to
|
|
be believed, that they have some very strong reason for covering
|
|
the real criminal, and that we must construct our case for
|
|
ourselves without any help from them. That is the mission which
|
|
now lies before us, and here, Watson, is the Chislehurst train."
|
|
|
|
The household of the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our
|
|
return, but Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had
|
|
gone off to report to head-quarters, took possession of the
|
|
dining-room, locked the door upon the inside, and devoted
|
|
himself for two hours to one of those minute and laborious
|
|
investigations which formed the solid basis on which his
|
|
brilliant edifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a
|
|
corner like an interested student who observes the demonstration
|
|
of his professor, I followed every step of that remarkable research.
|
|
The window, the curtains, the carpet, the chair, the rope -- each
|
|
in turn was minutely examined and duly pondered. The body of
|
|
the unfortunate baronet had been removed, but all else remained
|
|
as we had seen it in the morning. Then, to my astonishment,
|
|
Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece. Far above his
|
|
head hung the few inches of red cord which were still attached
|
|
to the wire. For a long time he gazed upward at it, and then in
|
|
an attempt to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden
|
|
bracket on the wall. This brought his hand within a few inches
|
|
of the broken end of the rope, but it was not this so much as
|
|
the bracket itself which seemed to engage his attention.
|
|
Finally he sprang down with an ejaculation of satisfaction.
|
|
|
|
"It's all right, Watson," said he. "We have got our case --
|
|
one of the most remarkable in our collection. But, dear me,
|
|
how slow-witted I have been, and how nearly I have committed
|
|
the blunder of my lifetime! Now, I think that with a few
|
|
missing links my chain is almost complete."
|
|
|
|
"You have got your men?"
|
|
|
|
"Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person.
|
|
Strong as a lion -- witness the blow that bent that poker.
|
|
Six foot three in height, active as a squirrel, dexterous
|
|
with his fingers; finally, remarkably quick-witted, for this
|
|
whole ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes, Watson,
|
|
we have come upon the handiwork of a very remarkable individual.
|
|
And yet in that bell-rope he has given us a clue which should
|
|
not have left us a doubt."
|
|
|
|
"Where was the clue?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, if you were to pull down a bell-rope, Watson, where would
|
|
you expect it to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached
|
|
to the wire. Why should it break three inches from the top as
|
|
this one has done?"
|
|
|
|
"Because it is frayed there?"
|
|
|
|
"Exactly. This end, which we can examine, is frayed. He was
|
|
cunning enough to do that with his knife. But the other end is
|
|
not frayed. You could not observe that from here, but if you
|
|
were on the mantelpiece you would see that it is cut clean off
|
|
without any mark of fraying whatever. You can reconstruct what
|
|
occurred. The man needed the rope. He would not tear it down
|
|
for fear of giving the alarm by ringing the bell. What did he do?
|
|
He sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it,
|
|
put his knee on the bracket -- you will see the impression in the
|
|
dust -- and so got his knife to bear upon the cord. I could not
|
|
reach the place by at least three inches, from which I infer
|
|
that he is at least three inches a bigger man than I. Look at
|
|
that mark upon the seat of the oaken chair! What is it?"
|
|
|
|
"Blood."
|
|
|
|
"Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady's story out
|
|
of court. If she were seated on the chair when the crime was
|
|
done, how comes that mark? No, no; she was placed in the chair
|
|
AFTER the death of her husband. I'll wager that the black dress
|
|
shows a corresponding mark to this. We have not yet met our
|
|
Waterloo, Watson, but this is our Marengo, for it begins in
|
|
defeat and ends in victory. I should like now to have a few
|
|
words with the nurse Theresa. We must be wary for awhile,
|
|
if we are to get the information which we want."
|
|
|
|
She was an interesting person, this stern Australian nurse.
|
|
Taciturn, suspicious, ungracious, it took some time before
|
|
Holmes's pleasant manner and frank acceptance of all that she
|
|
said thawed her into a corresponding amiability. She did not
|
|
attempt to conceal her hatred for her late employer.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me.
|
|
I heard him call my mistress a name, and I told him that he
|
|
would not dare to speak so if her brother had been there.
|
|
Then it was that he threw it at me. He might have thrown a
|
|
dozen if he had but left my bonny bird alone. He was for ever
|
|
illtreating her, and she too proud to complain. She will not
|
|
even tell me all that he has done to her. She never told me
|
|
of those marks on her arm that you saw this morning, but I know
|
|
very well that they come from a stab with a hat-pin.
|
|
The sly fiend -- Heaven forgive me that I should speak of him so,
|
|
now that he is dead, but a fiend he was if ever one walked the earth.
|
|
He was all honey when first we met him, only eighteen months ago,
|
|
and we both feel as if it were eighteen years. She had only just
|
|
arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage -- she had never
|
|
been from home before. He won her with his title and his money
|
|
and his false London ways. If she made a mistake she has paid
|
|
for it, if ever a woman did. What month did we meet him? Well,
|
|
I tell you it was just after we arrived. We arrived in June,
|
|
and it was July. They were married in January of last year.
|
|
Yes, she is down in the morning-room again, and I have no doubt
|
|
she will see you, but you must not ask too much of her, for she
|
|
has gone through all that flesh and blood will stand."
|
|
|
|
Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked
|
|
brighter than before. The maid had entered with us, and began
|
|
once more to foment the bruise upon her mistress's brow.
|
|
|
|
"I hope," said the lady, "that you have not come to
|
|
cross-examine me again?"
|
|
|
|
"No," Holmes answered, in his gentlest voice, "I will not cause
|
|
you any unnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall, and my whole
|
|
desire is to make things easy for you, for I am convinced that
|
|
you are a much-tried woman. If you will treat me as a friend
|
|
and trust me you may find that I will justify your trust."
|
|
|
|
"What do you want me to do?"
|
|
|
|
"To tell me the truth."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes!"
|
|
|
|
"No, no, Lady Brackenstall, it is no use. You may have heard
|
|
of any little reputation which I possess. I will stake it all
|
|
on the fact that your story is an absolute fabrication."
|
|
|
|
Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes with pale faces
|
|
and frightened eyes.
|
|
|
|
"You are an impudent fellow!" cried Theresa. "Do you mean to
|
|
say that my mistress has told a lie?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes rose from his chair.
|
|
|
|
"Have you nothing to tell me?"
|
|
|
|
"I have told you everything."
|
|
|
|
"Think once more, Lady Brackenstall. Would it not be better
|
|
to be frank?"
|
|
|
|
For an instant there was hesitation in her beautiful face.
|
|
Then some new strong thought caused it to set like a mask.
|
|
|
|
"I have told you all I know."
|
|
|
|
Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. "I am sorry,"
|
|
he said, and without another word we left the room and the
|
|
house. There was a pond in the park, and to this my friend
|
|
led the way. It was frozen over, but a single hole was left
|
|
for the convenience of a solitary swan. Holmes gazed at it and
|
|
then passed on to the lodge gate. There he scribbled a short
|
|
note for Stanley Hopkins and left it with the lodge-keeper.
|
|
|
|
"It may be a hit or it may be a miss, but we are bound to do
|
|
something for friend Hopkins, just to justify this second visit,"
|
|
said he. "I will not quite take him into my confidence yet.
|
|
I think our next scene of operations must be the shipping office
|
|
of the Adelaide-Southampton line, which stands at the end of
|
|
Pall Mall, if I remember right. There is a second line of
|
|
steamers which connect South Australia with England, but we
|
|
will draw the larger cover first."
|
|
|
|
Holmes's card sent in to the manager ensured instant attention,
|
|
and he was not long in acquiring all the information which he
|
|
needed. In June of '95 only one of their line had reached a
|
|
home port. It was the ROCK OF GIBRALTAR, their largest and best
|
|
boat. A reference to the passenger list showed that Miss Fraser
|
|
of Adelaide, with her maid, had made the voyage in her. The
|
|
boat was now on her way to Australia, somewhere to the south of
|
|
the Suez Canal. Her officers were the same as in '95, with one
|
|
exception. The first officer, Mr. Jack Croker, had been made a
|
|
captain and was to take charge of their new ship, the BASS ROCK,
|
|
sailing in two days' time from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham,
|
|
but he was likely to be in that morning for instructions, if we
|
|
cared to wait for him.
|
|
|
|
No; Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to
|
|
know more about his record and character.
|
|
|
|
His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in the
|
|
fleet to touch him. As to his character, he was reliable on
|
|
duty, but a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship,
|
|
hot-headed, excitable, but loyal, honest, and kind-hearted.
|
|
That was the pith of the information with which Holmes left the
|
|
office of the Adelaide-Southampton company. Thence he drove to
|
|
Scotland Yard, but instead of entering he sat in his cab with
|
|
his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought. Finally he
|
|
drove round to the Charing Cross telegraph office, sent off a
|
|
message, and then, at last, we made for Baker Street once more.
|
|
|
|
"No, I couldn't do it, Watson," said he, as we re-entered our
|
|
room. "Once that warrant was made out nothing on earth would
|
|
save him. Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done
|
|
more real harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever he had
|
|
done by his crime. I have learned caution now, and I had rather
|
|
play tricks with the law of England than with my own conscience.
|
|
Let us know a little more before we act."
|
|
|
|
Before evening we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins.
|
|
Things were not going very well with him.
|
|
|
|
"I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really do
|
|
sometimes think that you have powers that are not human.
|
|
Now, how on earth could you know that the stolen silver was
|
|
at the bottom of that pond?"
|
|
|
|
"I didn't know it."
|
|
|
|
"But you told me to examine it."
|
|
|
|
"You got it, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, I got it."
|
|
|
|
"I am very glad if I have helped you."
|
|
|
|
"But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far more
|
|
difficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and
|
|
then throw it into the nearest pond?"
|
|
|
|
"It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merely
|
|
going on the idea that if the silver had been taken by persons
|
|
who did not want it, who merely took it for a blind as it were,
|
|
then they would naturally be anxious to get rid of it."
|
|
|
|
"But why should such an idea cross your mind?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through
|
|
the French window there was the pond, with one tempting little
|
|
hole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there be
|
|
a better hiding-place?"
|
|
|
|
"Ah, a hiding-place -- that is better!" cried Stanley Hopkins.
|
|
"Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folk
|
|
upon the roads, they were afraid of being seen with the silver,
|
|
so they sank it in the pond, intending to return for it when
|
|
the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes -- that is better
|
|
than your idea of a blind."
|
|
|
|
"Quite so; you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt
|
|
that my own ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that they
|
|
have ended in discovering the silver."
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, yes. It was all your doing. But I have had
|
|
a bad set-back."
|
|
|
|
"A set-back?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New York
|
|
this morning."
|
|
|
|
"Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your
|
|
theory that they committed a murder in Kent last night."
|
|
|
|
"It is fatal, Mr. Holmes, absolutely fatal. Still, there are
|
|
other gangs of three besides the Randalls, or it may be some
|
|
new gang of which the police have never heard."
|
|
|
|
"Quite so; it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?"
|
|
|
|
Yes, Mr. Holmes; there is no rest for me until I have got to the
|
|
bottom of the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?"
|
|
|
|
"I have given you one."
|
|
|
|
"Which?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, I suggested a blind."
|
|
|
|
"But why, Mr. Holmes, why?"
|
|
|
|
"Ah, that's the question, of course. But I commend the idea
|
|
to your mind. You might possibly find that there was something
|
|
in it. You won't stop for dinner? Well, good-bye, and let us
|
|
know how you get on."
|
|
|
|
Dinner was over and the table cleared before Holmes alluded to
|
|
the matter again. He had lit his pipe and held his slippered
|
|
feet to the cheerful blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked at
|
|
his watch.
|
|
|
|
"I expect developments, Watson."
|
|
|
|
"When?"
|
|
|
|
"Now -- within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I acted
|
|
rather badly to Stanley Hopkins just now?"
|
|
|
|
"I trust your judgment."
|
|
|
|
"A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way:
|
|
what I know is unofficial; what he knows is official. I have
|
|
the right to private judgment, but he has none. He must disclose
|
|
all, or he is a traitor to his service. In a doubtful case I
|
|
would not put him in so painful a position, and so I reserve my
|
|
information until my own mind is clear upon the matter."
|
|
|
|
"But when will that be?"
|
|
|
|
"The time has come. You will now be present at the last scene
|
|
of a remarkable little drama."
|
|
|
|
There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened to
|
|
admit as fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it.
|
|
He was a very tall young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed,
|
|
with a skin which had been burned by tropical suns, and a springy
|
|
step which showed that the huge frame was as active as it was
|
|
strong. He closed the door behind him, and then he stood with
|
|
clenched hands and heaving breast, choking down some
|
|
overmastering emotion.
|
|
|
|
"Sit down, Captain Croker. You got my telegram?"
|
|
|
|
Our visitor sank into an arm-chair and looked from one to the
|
|
other of us with questioning eyes.
|
|
|
|
"I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heard
|
|
that you had been down to the office. There was no getting away
|
|
from you. Let's hear the worst. What are you going to do with me?
|
|
Arrest me? Speak out, man! You can't sit there and play with me
|
|
like a cat with a mouse."
|
|
|
|
"Give him a cigar," said Holmes. "Bite on that, Captain Croker,
|
|
and don't let your nerves run away with you. I should not sit
|
|
here smoking with you if I thought that you were a common criminal,
|
|
you may be sure of that. Be frank with me, and we may do some good.
|
|
Play tricks with me, and I'll crush you."
|
|
|
|
"What do you wish me to do?"
|
|
|
|
"To give me a true account of all that happened at the Abbey
|
|
Grange last night -- a TRUE account, mind you, with nothing added
|
|
and nothing taken off. I know so much already that if you go
|
|
one inch off the straight I'll blow this police whistle from my
|
|
window and the affair goes out of my hands for ever."
|
|
|
|
The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with
|
|
his great, sun-burned hand.
|
|
|
|
"I'll chance it," he cried. "I believe you are a man of your
|
|
word, and a white man, and I'll tell you the whole story.
|
|
But one thing I will say first. So far as I am concerned I regret
|
|
nothing and I fear nothing, and I would do it all again and be
|
|
proud of the job. Curse the beast, if he had as many lives as a
|
|
cat he would owe them all to me! But it's the lady, Mary --
|
|
Mary Fraser -- for never will I call her by that accursed name.
|
|
When I think of getting her into trouble, I who would give my life
|
|
just to bring one smile to her dear face, it's that that turns my
|
|
soul into water. And yet -- and yet -- what less could I do?
|
|
I'll tell you my story, gentlemen, and then I'll ask you as man
|
|
to man what less could I do.
|
|
|
|
"I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expect
|
|
that you know that I met her when she was a passenger and I was
|
|
first officer of the ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. From the first day I
|
|
met her she was the only woman to me. Every day of that voyage
|
|
I loved her more, and many a time since have I kneeled down in
|
|
the darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of that ship
|
|
because I knew her dear feet had trod it. She was never engaged
|
|
to me. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treated a man.
|
|
I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side, and
|
|
all good comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted she
|
|
was a free woman, but I could never again be a free man.
|
|
|
|
"Next time I came back from sea I heard of her marriage.
|
|
Well, why shouldn't she marry whom she liked? Title and money --
|
|
who could carry them better than she? She was born for all
|
|
that is beautiful and dainty. I didn't grieve over her marriage.
|
|
I was not such a selfish hound as that. I just rejoiced that good
|
|
luck had come her way, and that she had not thrown herself away
|
|
on a penniless sailor. That's how I loved Mary Fraser.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I never thought to see her again; but last voyage I was
|
|
promoted, and the new boat was not yet launched, so I had to
|
|
wait for a couple of months with my people at Sydenham.
|
|
One day out in a country lane I met Theresa Wright, her old maid.
|
|
She told me about her, about him, about everything. I tell you,
|
|
gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. This drunken hound, that he
|
|
should dare to raise his hand to her whose boots he was not worthy
|
|
to lick! I met Theresa again. Then I met Mary herself --
|
|
and met her again. Then she would meet me no more. But the
|
|
other day I had a notice that I was to start on my voyage within
|
|
a week, and I determined that I would see her once before I left.
|
|
Theresa was always my friend, for she loved Mary and hated this
|
|
villain almost as much as I did. From her I learned
|
|
the ways of the house. Mary used to sit up reading in her own
|
|
little room downstairs. I crept round there last night and
|
|
scratched at the window. At first she would not open to me,
|
|
but in her heart I know that now she loves me, and she could not
|
|
leave me in the frosty night. She whispered to me to come round
|
|
to the big front window, and I found it open before me so as to
|
|
let me into the dining-room. Again I heard from her own lips
|
|
things that made my blood boil, and again I cursed this brute
|
|
who mishandled the woman that I loved. Well, gentlemen, I was
|
|
standing with her just inside the window, in all innocence,
|
|
as Heaven is my judge, when he rushed like a madman into the room,
|
|
called her the vilest name that a man could use to a woman, and
|
|
welted her across the face with the stick he had in his hand.
|
|
I had sprung for the poker, and it was a fair fight between us.
|
|
See here on my arm where his first blow fell. Then it was my
|
|
turn, and I went through him as if he had been a rotten pumpkin.
|
|
Do you think I was sorry? Not I! It was his life or mine,
|
|
but far more than that it was his life or hers, for how could I
|
|
leave her in the power of this madman? That was how I killed him.
|
|
Was I wrong? Well, then, what would either of you gentlemen
|
|
have done if you had been in my position?"
|
|
|
|
"She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought old
|
|
Theresa down from the room above. There was a bottle of wine
|
|
on the sideboard, and I opened it and poured a little between
|
|
Mary's lips, for she was half dead with the shock. Then I took
|
|
a drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice, and it was her plot
|
|
as much as mine. We must make it appear that burglars had done
|
|
the thing. Theresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress,
|
|
while I swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashed
|
|
her in her chair, and frayed out the end of the rope to make it
|
|
look natural, else they would wonder how in the world a burglar
|
|
could have got up there to cut it. Then I gathered up a few
|
|
plates and pots of silver, to carry out the idea of a robbery,
|
|
and there I left them with orders to give the alarm when I had
|
|
a quarter of an hour's start. I dropped the silver into the
|
|
pond and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for once in my life
|
|
I had done a real good night's work. And that's the truth and
|
|
the whole truth, Mr. Holmes, if it costs me my neck."
|
|
|
|
Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed
|
|
the room and shook our visitor by the hand.
|
|
|
|
"That's what I think," said he. "I know that every word is
|
|
true, for you have hardly said a word which I did not know.
|
|
No one but an acrobat or a sailor could have got up to that
|
|
bell-rope from the bracket, and no one but a sailor could have
|
|
made the knots with which the cord was fastened to the chair.
|
|
Only once had this lady been brought into contact with sailors,
|
|
and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own class
|
|
of life, since she was trying hard to shield him and so showing
|
|
that she loved him. You see how easy it was for me to lay my
|
|
hands upon you when once I had started upon the right trail."
|
|
|
|
"I thought the police never could have seen through our dodge."
|
|
|
|
"And the police haven't; nor will they, to the best of my belief.
|
|
Now, look here, Captain Croker, this is a very serious matter,
|
|
though I am willing to admit that you acted under the most extreme
|
|
provocation to which any man could be subjected. I am not sure
|
|
that in defence of your own life your action will not be pronounced
|
|
legitimate. However, that is for a British jury to decide.
|
|
Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for you that if you choose to
|
|
disappear in the next twenty-four hours I will promise you that
|
|
no one will hinder you."
|
|
|
|
"And then it will all come out?"
|
|
|
|
"Certainly it will come out."
|
|
|
|
The sailor flushed with anger.
|
|
|
|
"What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I know enough
|
|
of law to understand that Mary would be had as accomplice.
|
|
Do you think I would leave her alone to face the music while
|
|
I slunk away? No, sir; let them do their worst upon me,
|
|
but for Heaven's sake, Mr. Holmes, find some way of keeping
|
|
my poor Mary out of the courts."
|
|
|
|
Holmes for a second time held out his hand to the sailor.
|
|
|
|
"I was only testing you, and you ring true every time.
|
|
Well, it is a great responsibility that I take upon myself,
|
|
but I have given Hopkins an excellent hint, and if he can't
|
|
avail himself of it I can do no more. See here, Captain Croker,
|
|
we'll do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner.
|
|
Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who was
|
|
more eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge.
|
|
Now, gentleman of the jury, you have heard the evidence.
|
|
Do you find the prisoner guilty or not guilty?"
|
|
|
|
"Not guilty, my lord," said I.
|
|
|
|
"Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Croker.
|
|
So long as the law does not find some other victim you are
|
|
safe from me. Come back to this lady in a year, and may her
|
|
future and yours justify us in the judgment which we have
|
|
pronounced this night."
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---------------------------------------------------------------
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THE STRAND MAGAZINE
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Vol. 28 DECEMBER, 1904
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THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
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By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
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XIII. --- The Adventure of the Second Stain.
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I HAD intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be the
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last of those exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, which
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I should ever communicate to the public. This resolution of
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mine was not due to any lack of material, since I have notes of
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many hundreds of cases to which I have never alluded, nor was it
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caused by any waning interest on the part of my readers in the
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singular personality and unique methods of this remarkable man.
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The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr. Holmes has shown
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to the continued publication of his experiences. So long as he
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was in actual professional practice the records of his successes
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were of some practical value to him; but since he has definitely
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retired from London and betaken himself to study and bee-farming
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on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become hateful to him, and he
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has peremptorily requested that his wishes in this matter should
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be strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to him
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that I had given a promise that "The Adventure of the Second
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Stain" should be published when the times were ripe, and
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pointing out to him that it is only appropriate that this long
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series of episodes should culminate in the most important
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international case which he has ever been called upon to handle,
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that I at last succeeded in obtaining his consent that a
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carefully-guarded account of the incident should at last be laid
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before the public. If in telling the story I seem to be
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somewhat vague in certain details the public will readily
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understand that there is an excellent reason for my reticence.
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It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be
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nameless, that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found two
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visitors of European fame within the walls of our humble room
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in Baker Street. The one, austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed,
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and dominant, was none other than the illustrious Lord Bellinger,
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twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, clear-cut, and
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elegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed with every beauty
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of body and of mind, was the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope,
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Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising statesman
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in the country. They sat side by side upon our paper-littered
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settee, and it was easy to see from their worn and anxious faces
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that it was business of the most pressing importance which had
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brought them. The Premier's thin, blue-veined hands were
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clasped tightly over the ivory head of his umbrella, and his
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gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me.
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The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustache and
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fidgeted with the seals of his watch-chain.
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"When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight
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o'clock this morning, I at once informed the Prime Minister.
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It was at his suggestion that we have both come to you."
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"Have you informed the police?"
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"No, sir," said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisive
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manner for which he was famous. "We have not done so, nor is
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it possible that we should do so. To inform the police must,
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in the long run, mean to inform the public. This is what we
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particularly desire to avoid."
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"And why, sir?"
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"Because the document in question is of such immense importance
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that its publication might very easily -- I might almost say
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probably -- lead to European complications of the utmost moment.
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It is not too much to say that peace or war may hang upon the
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issue. Unless its recovery can be attended with the utmost
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secrecy, then it may as well not be recovered at all, for all
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that is aimed at by those who have taken it is that its contents
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should be generally known."
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"I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much
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obliged if you would tell me exactly the circumstances under
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which this document disappeared."
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"That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes.
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The letter -- for it was a letter from a foreign potentate --
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was received six days ago. It was of such importance that I have
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never left it in my safe, but I have taken it across each evening
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to my house in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it in my bedroom in a
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locked despatch-box. It was there last night. Of that I am
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certain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing for
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dinner, and saw the document inside. This morning it was gone.
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The despatch-box had stood beside the glass upon my dressing-table
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all night. I am a light sleeper, and so is my wife. We are both
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prepared to swear that no one could have entered the room during
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the night. And yet I repeat that the paper is gone."
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"What time did you dine?"
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"Half-past seven."
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"How long was it before you went to bed?"
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"My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her.
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It was half-past eleven before we went to our room."
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"Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?"
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"No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the housemaid
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in the morning, and my valet, or my wife's maid, during the rest
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of the day. They are both trusty servants who have been with us
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for some time. Besides, neither of them could possibly have
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known that there was anything more valuable than the ordinary
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departmental papers in my despatch-box."
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"Who did know of the existence of that letter?"
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"No one in the house."
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"Surely your wife knew?"
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"No, sir; I had said nothing to my wife until I missed the
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paper this morning."
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The Premier nodded approvingly.
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"I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty,"
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said he. "I am convinced that in the case of a secret of this
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importance it would rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties."
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The European Secretary bowed.
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"You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I have
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never breathed one word to my wife upon this matter."
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"Could she have guessed?"
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"No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed -- nor could anyone
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have guessed."
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"Have you lost any documents before?"
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"No, sir."
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"Who is there in England who did know of the existence of this letter?"
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"Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday;
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but the pledge of secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting
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was increased by the solemn warning which was given by the Prime
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Minister. Good heavens, to think that within a few hours I
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should myself have lost it!" His handsome face was distorted
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with a spasm of despair, and his hands tore at his hair.
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For a moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man, impulsive,
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ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask was
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replaced, and the gentle voice had returned. "Besides the
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members of the Cabinet there are two, or possibly three,
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departmental officials who know of the letter. No one else
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in England, Mr. Holmes, I assure you."
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"But abroad?"
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"I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it.
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I am well convinced that his Ministers -- that the usual official
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channels have not been employed."
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Holmes considered for some little time.
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"Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is,
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and why its disappearance should have such momentous consequences?"
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The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier's
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shaggy eyebrows gathered in a frown.
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"Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour.
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There is a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion.
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It is addressed in large, bold handwriting to ---"
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"I fear, sir," said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeed
|
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essential as these details are, my inquiries must go more to the
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root of things. What WAS the letter?"
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"That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear
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that I cannot tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary.
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If by the aid of the powers which you are said to possess you
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can find such an envelope as I describe with its enclosure,
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you will have deserved well of your country, and earned any
|
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reward which it lies in our power to bestow."
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Sherlock Holmes rose with a smile.
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"You are two of the most busy men in the country," said he,
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"and in my own small way I have also a good many calls upon me.
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I regret exceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter,
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and any continuation of this interview would be a waste of time."
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The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of
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|
his deep-set eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. "I am not
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accustomed, sir ----" he began, but mastered his anger and
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|
resumed his seat. For a minute or more we all sat in silence.
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Then the old statesman shrugged his shoulders.
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"We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right,
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and it is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we
|
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give you our entire confidence."
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"I agree with you, sir," said the younger statesman.
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"Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and
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that of your colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal to your
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patriotism also, for I could not imagine a greater misfortune
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for the country than that this affair should come out."
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"You may safely trust us."
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"The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who has
|
|
been ruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this
|
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country. It has been written hurriedly and upon his own
|
|
responsibility entirely. Inquiries have shown that his
|
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Ministers know nothing of the matter. At the same time it is
|
|
couched in so unfortunate a manner, and certain phrases in it
|
|
are of so provocative a character, that its publication would
|
|
undoubtedly lead to a most dangerous state of feeling in this
|
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country. There would be such a ferment, sir, that I do not
|
|
hesitate to say that within a week of the publication of that
|
|
letter this country would be involved in a great war."
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Holmes wrote a name upon a slip of paper and handed it to the
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Premier.
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"Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter -- this letter which
|
|
may well mean the expenditure of a thousand millions and the
|
|
lives of a hundred thousand men -- which has become lost in this
|
|
unaccountable fashion."
|
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"Have you informed the sender?"
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|
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"Yes, sir, a cipher telegram has been despatched."
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|
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"Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter."
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|
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"No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he already
|
|
understands that he has acted in an indiscreet and hot-headed
|
|
manner. It would be a greater blow to him and to his country
|
|
than to us if this letter were to come out."
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"If this is so, whose interest is it that the letter should
|
|
come out? Why should anyone desire to steal it or to publish it?"
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"There, Mr. Holmes, you take me into regions of high
|
|
international politics. But if you consider the European
|
|
situation you will have no difficulty in perceiving the motive.
|
|
The whole of Europe is an armed camp. There is a double league
|
|
which makes a fair balance of military power. Great Britain
|
|
holds the scales. If Britain were driven into war with one
|
|
confederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the other
|
|
confederacy, whether they joined in the war or not. Do you follow?"
|
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|
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"Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of this
|
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potentate to secure and publish this letter, so as to make a
|
|
breach between his country and ours?"
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|
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"Yes, sir."
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|
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"And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into the
|
|
hands of an enemy?"
|
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|
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"To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably
|
|
speeding on its way thither at the present instant as fast as
|
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steam can take it."
|
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Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groaned
|
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aloud. The Premier placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder.
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|
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"It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you.
|
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There is no precaution which you have neglected.
|
|
Now, Mr. Holmes, you are in full possession of the facts.
|
|
What course do you recommend?"
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|
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Holmes shook his head mournfully.
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|
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"You think, sir, that unless this document is recovered there
|
|
will be war?"
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|
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"I think it is very probable."
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|
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"Then, sir, prepare for war."
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|
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"That is a hard saying, Mr. Holmes."
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|
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"Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken
|
|
after eleven-thirty at night, since I understand that Mr. Hope
|
|
and his wife were both in the room from that hour until the loss
|
|
was found out. It was taken, then, yesterday evening between
|
|
seven-thirty and eleven-thirty, probably near the earlier hour,
|
|
since whoever took it evidently knew that it was there and would
|
|
naturally secure it as early as possible. Now, sir, if a
|
|
document of this importance were taken at that hour, where can
|
|
it be now? No one has any reason to retain it. It has been
|
|
passed rapidly on to those who need it. What chance have we now
|
|
to overtake or even to trace it? It is beyond our reach."
|
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|
|
The Prime Minister rose from the settee.
|
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|
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"What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that the
|
|
matter is indeed out of our hands."
|
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|
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"Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document was
|
|
taken by the maid or by the valet ----"
|
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|
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"They are both old and tried servants."
|
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|
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"I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor,
|
|
that there is no entrance from without, and that from within no
|
|
one could go up unobserved. It must, then, be somebody in the
|
|
house who has taken it. To whom would the thief take it?
|
|
To one of several international spies and secret agents, whose
|
|
names are tolerably familiar to me. There are three who may be
|
|
said to be the heads of their profession. I will begin my
|
|
research by going round and finding if each of them is at his
|
|
post. If one is missing -- especially if he has disappeared
|
|
since last night -- we will have some indication as to where
|
|
the document has gone."
|
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|
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"Why should he be missing?" asked the European Secretary.
|
|
"He would take the letter to an Embassy in London, as likely as not."
|
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|
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"I fancy not. These agents work independently, and their
|
|
relations with the Embassies are often strained."
|
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|
|
The Prime Minister nodded his acquiescence.
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|
|
"I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable
|
|
a prize to head-quarters with his own hands. I think that your
|
|
course of action is an excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope,
|
|
we cannot neglect all our other duties on account of this one
|
|
misfortune. Should there be any fresh developments during the
|
|
day we shall communicate with you, and you will no doubt let us
|
|
know the results of your own inquiries."
|
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|
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The two statesmen bowed and walked gravely from the room.
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When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmes lit his pipe
|
|
in silence, and sat for some time lost in the deepest thought.
|
|
I had opened the morning paper and was immersed in a sensational
|
|
crime which had occurred in London the night before, when my
|
|
friend gave an exclamation, sprang to his feet, and laid his
|
|
pipe down upon the mantelpiece.
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|
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"Yes," said he, "there is no better way of approaching it.
|
|
The situation is desperate, but not hopeless. Even now,
|
|
if we could be sure which of them has taken it, it is just
|
|
possible that it has not yet passed out of his hands.
|
|
After all, it is a question of money with these fellows,
|
|
and I have the British Treasury behind me. If it's on the
|
|
market I'll buy it -- if it means another penny on the income-tax.
|
|
It is conceivable that the fellow might hold it back to see what
|
|
bids come from this side before he tries his luck on the other.
|
|
There are only those three capable of playing so bold a game;
|
|
there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas.
|
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I will see each of them."
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I glanced at my morning paper.
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|
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"Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?"
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"Yes."
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"You will not see him."
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"Why not?"
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|
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"He was murdered in his house last night."
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|
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My friend has so often astonished me in the course of our
|
|
adventures that it was with a sense of exultation that I
|
|
realized how completely I had astonished him. He stared in
|
|
amazement, and then snatched the paper from my hands. This was
|
|
the paragraph which I had been engaged in reading when he rose
|
|
from his chair:--
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|
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"MURDER IN WESTMINSTER.
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|
|
"A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16,
|
|
Godolphin Street, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows of
|
|
eighteenth-century houses which lie between the river and the
|
|
Abbey, almost in the shadow of the great Tower of the Houses of
|
|
Parliament. This small but select mansion has been inhabited
|
|
for some years by Mr. Eduardo Lucas, well known in society
|
|
circles both on account of his charming personality and because
|
|
he has the well-deserved reputation of being one of the best
|
|
amateur tenors in the country. Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man,
|
|
thirty-four years of age, and his establishment consists of
|
|
Mrs. Pringle, an elderly housekeeper, and of Mitton, his valet.
|
|
The former retires early and sleeps at the top of the house.
|
|
The valet was out for the evening, visiting a friend at Hammersmith.
|
|
From ten o'clock onwards Mr. Lucas had the house to himself.
|
|
What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but at
|
|
a quarter to twelve Police-constable Barrett, passing along
|
|
Godolphin Street, observed that the door of No. 16 was ajar.
|
|
He knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a light in
|
|
the front room he advanced into the passage and again knocked,
|
|
but without reply. He then pushed open the door and entered.
|
|
The room was in a state of wild disorder, the furniture being
|
|
all swept to one side, and one chair lying on its back in the
|
|
centre. Beside this chair, and still grasping one of its legs,
|
|
lay the unfortunate tenant of the house. He had been stabbed
|
|
to the heart and must have died instantly. The knife with which
|
|
the crime had been committed was a curved Indian dagger, plucked
|
|
down from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned one of the
|
|
walls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of the
|
|
crime, for there had been no attempt to remove the valuable
|
|
contents of the room. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known and
|
|
popular that his violent and mysterious fate will arouse painful
|
|
interest and intense sympathy in a wide-spread circle of friends."
|
|
|
|
"Well, Watson, what do you make of this?" asked Holmes,
|
|
after a long pause.
|
|
|
|
"It is an amazing coincidence."
|
|
|
|
"A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had named
|
|
as possible actors in this drama, and he meets a violent death
|
|
during the very hours when we know that that drama was being
|
|
enacted. The odds are enormous against its being coincidence.
|
|
No figures could express them. No, my dear Watson, the two
|
|
events are connected -- MUST be connected. It is for us to find
|
|
the connection."
|
|
|
|
"But now the official police must know all."
|
|
|
|
"Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street.
|
|
They know -- and shall know -- nothing of Whitehall Terrace.
|
|
Only WE know of both events, and can trace the relation between them.
|
|
There is one obvious point which would, in any case, have turned
|
|
my suspicions against Lucas. Godolphin Street, Westminster,
|
|
is only a few minutes' walk from Whitehall Terrace. The other
|
|
secret agents whom I have named live in the extreme West-end.
|
|
It was easier, therefore, for Lucas than for the others to
|
|
establish a connection or receive a message from the European
|
|
Secretary's household -- a small thing, and yet where events are
|
|
compressed into a few hours it may prove essential.
|
|
Halloa! what have we here?"
|
|
|
|
Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady's card upon her salver.
|
|
Holmes glanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and handed it over to me.
|
|
|
|
"Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope if she will be kind enough to
|
|
step up," said he.
|
|
|
|
A moment later our modest apartment, already so distinguished
|
|
that morning, was further honoured by the entrance of the most
|
|
lovely woman in London. I had often heard of the beauty of the
|
|
youngest daughter of the Duke of Belminster, but no description
|
|
of it, and no contemplation of colourless photographs, had
|
|
prepared me for the subtle, delicate charm and the beautiful
|
|
colouring of that exquisite head. And yet as we saw it that
|
|
autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be the first
|
|
thing to impress the observer. The cheek was lovely, but it
|
|
was paled with emotion; the eyes were bright, but it was the
|
|
brightness of fever; the sensitive mouth was tight and drawn in
|
|
an effort after self-command. Terror -- not beauty -- was what
|
|
sprang first to the eye as our fair visitor stood framed for an
|
|
instant in the open door.
|
|
|
|
"Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, madam, he has been here."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes, I implore you not to tell him that I came here."
|
|
Holmes bowed coldly, and motioned the lady to a chair.
|
|
|
|
"Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position.
|
|
I beg that you will sit down and tell me what you desire;
|
|
but I fear that I cannot make any unconditional promise."
|
|
|
|
She swept across the room and seated herself with her back
|
|
to the window. It was a queenly presence -- tall, graceful,
|
|
and intensely womanly.
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes," she said, and her white-gloved hands clasped and
|
|
unclasped as she spoke -- "I will speak frankly to you in the
|
|
hope that it may induce you to speak frankly in return. There
|
|
is complete confidence between my husband and me on all matters
|
|
save one. That one is politics. On this his lips are sealed.
|
|
He tells me nothing. Now, I am aware that there was a most
|
|
deplorable occurrence in our house last night. I know that a
|
|
paper has disappeared. But because the matter is political my
|
|
husband refuses to take me into his complete confidence. Now it
|
|
is essential -- essential, I say -- that I should thoroughly
|
|
understand it. You are the only other person, save only these
|
|
politicians, who knows the true facts. I beg you, then,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happened and what it
|
|
will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard for your
|
|
client's interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his
|
|
interests, if he would only see it, would be best served by
|
|
taking me into his complete confidence. What was this paper
|
|
which was stolen?"
|
|
|
|
"Madam, what you ask me is really impossible."
|
|
|
|
She groaned and sank her face in her hands.
|
|
|
|
"You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks
|
|
fit to keep you in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who
|
|
has only learned the true facts under the pledge of professional
|
|
secrecy, to tell what he has withheld? It is not fair to ask it.
|
|
It is him whom you must ask."
|
|
|
|
"I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But without
|
|
your telling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great
|
|
service if you would enlighten me on one point."
|
|
|
|
"What is it, madam?"
|
|
|
|
"Is my husband's political career likely to suffer through
|
|
this incident?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have
|
|
a very unfortunate effect."
|
|
|
|
"Ah!" She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubts
|
|
are resolved.
|
|
|
|
"One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which my
|
|
husband dropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood
|
|
that terrible public consequences might arise from the loss of
|
|
this document."
|
|
|
|
"If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it."
|
|
|
|
"Of what nature are they?"
|
|
|
|
"Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possibly answer."
|
|
|
|
"Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you,
|
|
Mr. Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you on
|
|
your side will not, I am sure, think the worse of me because
|
|
I desire, even against his will, to share my husband's anxieties.
|
|
Once more I beg that you will say nothing of my visit."
|
|
She looked back at us from the door, and I had a last impression
|
|
of that beautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawn
|
|
mouth. Then she was gone.
|
|
|
|
"Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes,
|
|
with a smile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had ended
|
|
in the slam of the front door. "What was the fair lady's game?
|
|
What did she really want?"
|
|
|
|
"Surely her own statement is clear and her anxiety very natural."
|
|
|
|
"Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson -- her manner,
|
|
her suppressed excitement, her restlessness, her tenacity
|
|
in asking questions. Remember that she comes of a caste
|
|
who do not lightly show emotion."
|
|
|
|
"She was certainly much moved."
|
|
|
|
"Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured
|
|
us that it was best for her husband that she should know all.
|
|
What did she mean by that? And you must have observed, Watson,
|
|
how she manoeuvred to have the light at her back. She did not
|
|
wish us to read her expression."
|
|
|
|
"Yes; she chose the one chair in the room."
|
|
|
|
"And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You remember
|
|
the woman at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason.
|
|
No powder on her nose -- that proved to be the correct solution.
|
|
How can you build on such a quicksand? Their most trivial action
|
|
may mean volumes, or their most extraordinary conduct may depend
|
|
upon a hairpin or a curling-tongs. Good morning, Watson."
|
|
|
|
"You are off?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; I will wile away the morning at Godolphin Street with our
|
|
friends of the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas lies
|
|
the solution of our problem, though I must admit that I have not
|
|
an inkling as to what form it may take. It is a capital mistake
|
|
to theorize in advance of the facts. Do you stay on guard, my
|
|
good Watson, and receive any fresh visitors. I'll join you at
|
|
lunch if I am able."
|
|
|
|
|
|
All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a mood
|
|
which his friends would call taciturn, and others morose.
|
|
He ran out and ran in, smoked incessantly, played snatches on
|
|
his violin, sank into reveries, devoured sandwiches at irregular
|
|
hours, and hardly answered the casual questions which I put to
|
|
him. It was evident to me that things were not going well with
|
|
him or his quest. He would say nothing of the case, and it was
|
|
from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest,
|
|
and the arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton,
|
|
the valet of the deceased. The coroner's jury brought in the
|
|
obvious "Wilful Murder," but the parties remained as unknown as
|
|
ever. No motive was suggested. The room was full of articles
|
|
of value, but none had been taken. The dead man's papers had
|
|
not been tampered with. They were carefully examined,
|
|
and showed that he was a keen student of international politics,
|
|
an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and an untiring
|
|
letter-writer. He had been on intimate terms with the leading
|
|
politicians of several countries. But nothing sensational was
|
|
discovered among the documents which filled his drawers. As to
|
|
his relations with women, they appeared to have been promiscuous
|
|
but superficial. He had many acquaintances among them, but few
|
|
friends, and no one whom he loved. His habits were regular,
|
|
his conduct inoffensive. His death was an absolute mystery,
|
|
and likely to remain so.
|
|
|
|
As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a counsel
|
|
of despair as an alternative to absolute inaction. But no case
|
|
could be sustained against him. He had visited friends in
|
|
Hammersmith that night. The ALIBI was complete. It is true
|
|
that he started home at an hour which should have brought him
|
|
to Westminster before the time when the crime was discovered,
|
|
but his own explanation that he had walked part of the way
|
|
seemed probable enough in view of the fineness of the night.
|
|
He had actually arrived at twelve o'clock, and appeared to be
|
|
overwhelmed by the unexpected tragedy. He had always been on
|
|
good terms with his master. Several of the dead man's
|
|
possessions -- notably a small case of razors -- had been found in
|
|
the valet's boxes, but he explained that they had been presents
|
|
from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able to corroborate
|
|
the story. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for three
|
|
years. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take Mitton on the
|
|
Continent with him. Sometimes he visited Paris for three months
|
|
on end, but Mitton was left in charge of the Godolphin Street
|
|
house. As to the housekeeper, she had heard nothing on the
|
|
night of the crime. If her master had a visitor he had himself
|
|
admitted him.
|
|
|
|
So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I could
|
|
follow it in the papers. If Holmes knew more he kept his own
|
|
counsel, but, as he told me that Inspector Lestrade had taken
|
|
him into his confidence in the case, I knew that he was in
|
|
close touch with every development. Upon the fourth day there
|
|
appeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed to solve the
|
|
whole question.
|
|
|
|
"A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police," said
|
|
the DAILY TELEGRAPH, "which raises the veil which hung round the
|
|
tragic fate of Mr. Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence
|
|
last Monday night at Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers
|
|
will remember that the deceased gentleman was found stabbed in
|
|
his room, and that some suspicion attached to his valet, but
|
|
that the case broke down on an ALIBI. Yesterday a lady, who has
|
|
been known as Mme. Henri Fournaye, occupying a small villa in
|
|
the Rue Austerlitz, was reported to the authorities by her
|
|
servants as being insane. An examination showed that she had
|
|
indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form.
|
|
On inquiry the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournaye
|
|
only returned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there
|
|
is evidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster.
|
|
A comparison of photographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri
|
|
Fournaye and Eduardo Lucas were really one and the same person,
|
|
and that the deceased had for some reason lived a double life
|
|
in London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye, who is of Creole origin,
|
|
is of an extremely excitable nature, and has suffered in the
|
|
past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted to frenzy.
|
|
It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committed
|
|
the terrible crime which has caused such a sensation in London.
|
|
Her movements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced,
|
|
but it is undoubted that a woman answering to her description
|
|
attracted much attention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday
|
|
morning by the wildness of her appearance and the violence of
|
|
her gestures. It is probable, therefore, that the crime was
|
|
either committed when insane, or that its immediate effect was
|
|
to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. At present she
|
|
is unable to give any coherent account of the past, and the
|
|
doctors hold out no hopes of the re-establishment of her reason.
|
|
There is evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye,
|
|
was seen for some hours on Monday night watching the house in
|
|
Godolphin Street."
|
|
|
|
"What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the account
|
|
aloud to him, while he finished his breakfast.
|
|
|
|
"My dear Watson," said he, as he rose from the table and paced
|
|
up and down the room, "you are most long-suffering, but if I
|
|
have told you nothing in the last three days it is because there
|
|
is nothing to tell. Even now this report from Paris does not
|
|
help us much."
|
|
|
|
"Surely it is final as regards the man's death."
|
|
|
|
"The man's death is a mere incident -- a trivial episode -- in
|
|
comparison with our real task, which is to trace this document
|
|
and save a European catastrophe. Only one important thing has
|
|
happened in the last three days, and that is that nothing has
|
|
happened. I get reports almost hourly from the Government,
|
|
and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is there any sign of
|
|
trouble. Now, if this letter were loose -- no, it CAN'T be
|
|
loose -- but if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it?
|
|
Why is it held back? That's the question that beats in my brain
|
|
like a hammer. Was it, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should
|
|
meet his death on the night when the letter disappeared?
|
|
Did the letter ever reach him? If so, why is it not among his
|
|
papers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off with her? If so,
|
|
is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for it without
|
|
the French police having their suspicions aroused? It is a case,
|
|
my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as the
|
|
criminals are. Every man's hand is against us, and yet the
|
|
interests at stake are colossal. Should I bring it to a
|
|
successful conclusion it will certainly represent the crowning
|
|
glory of my career. Ah, here is my latest from the front!"
|
|
He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in.
|
|
"Halloa! Lestrade seems to have observed something of interest.
|
|
Put on your hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together to
|
|
Westminster."
|
|
|
|
It was my first visit to the scene of the crime -- a high, dingy,
|
|
narrow-chested house, prim, formal, and solid, like the century
|
|
which gave it birth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out at
|
|
us from the front window, and he greeted us warmly when a big
|
|
constable had opened the door and let us in. The room into
|
|
which we were shown was that in which the crime had been
|
|
committed, but no trace of it now remained, save an ugly,
|
|
irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a small square
|
|
drugget in the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanse
|
|
of beautiful, old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blocks
|
|
highly polished. Over the fireplace was a magnificent trophy
|
|
of weapons, one of which had been used on that tragic night.
|
|
In the window was a sumptuous writing-desk, and every detail of
|
|
the apartment, the pictures, the rugs, and the hangings, all
|
|
pointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge of effeminacy.
|
|
|
|
"Seen the Paris news?" asked Lestrade.
|
|
|
|
Holmes nodded.
|
|
|
|
"Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time.
|
|
No doubt it's just as they say. She knocked at the door --
|
|
surprise visit, I guess, for he kept his life in water-tight
|
|
compartments. He let her in -- couldn't keep her in the street.
|
|
She told him how she had traced him, reproached him, one thing
|
|
led to another, and then with that dagger so handy the end soon
|
|
came. It wasn't all done in an instant, though, for these
|
|
chairs were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his hand as
|
|
if he had tried to hold her off with it. We've got it all clear
|
|
as if we had seen it."
|
|
|
|
Holmes raised his eyebrows.
|
|
|
|
"And yet you have sent for me?"
|
|
|
|
"Ah, yes, that's another matter -- a mere trifle, but the sort
|
|
of thing you take an interest in -- queer, you know, and what
|
|
you might call freakish. It has nothing to do with the main
|
|
fact -- can't have, on the face of it."
|
|
|
|
"What is it, then?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, you know, after a crime of this sort we are very careful
|
|
to keep things in their position. Nothing has been moved.
|
|
Officer in charge here day and night. This morning, as the man
|
|
was buried and the investigation over -- so far as this room is
|
|
concerned -- we thought we could tidy up a bit. This carpet.
|
|
You see, it is not fastened down; only just laid there. We had
|
|
occasion to raise it. We found ----"
|
|
|
|
"Yes? You found ----"
|
|
|
|
Holmes's face grew tense with anxiety.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years what we
|
|
did find. You see that stain on the carpet? Well, a great deal
|
|
must have soaked through, must it not?"
|
|
|
|
"Undoubtedly it must."
|
|
|
|
"Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain on
|
|
the white woodwork to correspond."
|
|
|
|
"No stain! But there must ----"
|
|
|
|
"Yes; so you would say. But the fact remains that there isn't."
|
|
|
|
He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over,
|
|
he showed that it was indeed as he said.
|
|
|
|
"But the underside is as stained as the upper. It must have
|
|
left a mark."
|
|
|
|
Lestrade chuckled with delight at having puzzled the famous expert.
|
|
|
|
"Now I'll show you the explanation. There IS a second stain,
|
|
but it does not correspond with the other. See for yourself."
|
|
As he spoke he turned over another portion of the carpet, and
|
|
there, sure enough, was a great crimson spill upon the square
|
|
white facing of the old-fashioned floor. "What do you make of
|
|
that, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond,
|
|
but the carpet has been turned round. As it was square and
|
|
unfastened it was easily done."
|
|
|
|
The official police don't need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell them
|
|
that the carpet must have been turned round. That's clear enough,
|
|
for the stains lie above each other -- if you lay it over this way.
|
|
But what I want to know is, who shifted the carpet, and why?"
|
|
|
|
I could see from Holmes's rigid face that he was vibrating with
|
|
inward excitement.
|
|
|
|
"Look here, Lestrade," said he, "has that constable in the
|
|
passage been in charge of the place all the time?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, he has."
|
|
|
|
"Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don't do it
|
|
before us. We'll wait here. You take him into the back room.
|
|
You'll be more likely to get a confession out of him alone.
|
|
Ask him how he dared to admit people and leave them alone in this
|
|
room. Don't ask him if he has done it. Take it for granted.
|
|
Tell him you KNOW someone has been here. Press him. Tell him
|
|
that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness.
|
|
Do exactly what I tell you!"
|
|
|
|
"By George, if he knows I'll have it out of him!" cried Lestrade.
|
|
He darted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullying
|
|
voice sounded from the back room.
|
|
|
|
"Now, Watson, now!" cried Holmes, with frenzied eagerness.
|
|
All the demoniacal force of the man masked behind that listless
|
|
manner burst out in a paroxysm of energy. He tore the drugget
|
|
from the floor, and in an instant was down on his hands and
|
|
knees clawing at each of the squares of wood beneath it.
|
|
One turned sideways as he dug his nails into the edge of it.
|
|
It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavity
|
|
opened beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it,
|
|
and drew it out with a bitter snarl of anger and disappointment.
|
|
It was empty.
|
|
|
|
"Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!" The wooden lid was
|
|
replaced, and the drugget had only just been drawn straight when
|
|
Lestrade's voice was heard in the passage. He found Holmes
|
|
leaning languidly against the mantelpiece, resigned and patient,
|
|
endeavouring to conceal his irrepressible yawns.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes. I can see that you are
|
|
bored to death with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed,
|
|
all right. Come in here, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hear
|
|
of your most inexcusable conduct."
|
|
|
|
The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room.
|
|
|
|
"I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure. The young woman came to the
|
|
door last evening -- mistook the house, she did. And then we
|
|
got talking. It's lonesome, when you're on duty here all day."
|
|
|
|
"Well, what happened then?"
|
|
|
|
"She wanted to see where the crime was done -- had read about
|
|
it in the papers, she said. She was a very respectable,
|
|
well-spoken young woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting her
|
|
have a peep. When she saw that mark on the carpet, down she
|
|
dropped on the floor, and lay as if she were dead. I ran to the
|
|
back and got some water, but I could not bring her to. Then I
|
|
went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by
|
|
the time I had brought it back the young woman had recovered and
|
|
was off -- ashamed of herself, I dare say, and dared not face me."
|
|
|
|
"How about moving that drugget?"
|
|
|
|
"Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back.
|
|
You see, she fell on it, and it lies on a polished floor with
|
|
nothing to keep it in place. I straightened it out afterwards."
|
|
|
|
"It's a lesson to you that you can't deceive me, Constable
|
|
MacPherson," said Lestrade, with dignity. "No doubt you thought
|
|
that your breach of duty could never be discovered, and yet a
|
|
mere glance at that drugget was enough to convince me that
|
|
someone had been admitted to the room. It's lucky for you,
|
|
my man, that nothing is missing, or you would find yourself in
|
|
Queer Street. I'm sorry to have called you down over such a
|
|
petty business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the second
|
|
stain not corresponding with the first would interest you."
|
|
|
|
"Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only been
|
|
here once, constable?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir, only once."
|
|
|
|
"Who was she?"
|
|
|
|
"Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement about
|
|
type-writing, and came to the wrong number -- very pleasant,
|
|
genteel young woman, sir."
|
|
|
|
"Tall? Handsome?"
|
|
|
|
"Yes, sir; she was a well-grown young woman. I suppose you
|
|
might say she was handsome. Perhaps some would say she was
|
|
very handsome. `Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!' says she.
|
|
She had pretty, coaxing ways, as you might say, and I thought there
|
|
was no harm in letting her just put her head through the door."
|
|
|
|
"How was she dressed?"
|
|
|
|
"Quiet, sir -- a long mantle down to her feet."
|
|
|
|
"What time was it?"
|
|
|
|
"It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the
|
|
lamps as I came back with the brandy."
|
|
|
|
"Very good," said Holmes. "Come, Watson, I think that we have
|
|
more important work elsewhere."
|
|
|
|
As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room,
|
|
while the repentant constable opened the door to let us out.
|
|
Holmes turned on the step and held up something in his hand.
|
|
The constable stared intently.
|
|
|
|
"Good Lord, sir!" he cried, with amazement on his face.
|
|
Holmes put his finger on his lips, replaced his hand in his
|
|
breast-pocket, and burst out laughing as we turned down the street.
|
|
"Excellent!" said he. "Come, friend Watson, the curtain rings
|
|
up for the last act. You will be relieved to hear that there
|
|
will be no war, that the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope will
|
|
suffer no set-back in his brilliant career, that the indiscreet
|
|
Sovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion, that
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the Prime Minister will have no European complication to deal
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with, and that with a little tact and management upon our part
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nobody will be a penny the worse for what might have been a very
|
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ugly incident."
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My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man.
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"You have solved it!" I cried.
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"Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as dark
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as ever. But we have so much that it will be our own fault if
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we cannot get the rest. We will go straight to Whitehall
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Terrace and bring the matter to a head."
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When we arrived at the residence of the European Secretary it
|
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was for Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired.
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We were shown into the morning-room.
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"Mr. Holmes!" said the lady, and her face was pink with her
|
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indignation, "this is surely most unfair and ungenerous upon
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your part. I desired, as I have explained, to keep my visit to
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you a secret, lest my husband should think that I was intruding
|
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into his affairs. And yet you compromise me by coming here and
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so showing that there are business relations between us."
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|
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"Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alternative. I have
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been commissioned to recover this immensely important paper.
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I must therefore ask you, madam, to be kind enough to place
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it in my hands."
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The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashed in an
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instant from her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed -- she
|
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tottered -- I thought that she would faint. Then with a grand
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|
effort she rallied from the shock, and a supreme astonishment
|
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and indignation chased every other expression from her features.
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"You -- you insult me, Mr. Holmes."
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"Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter."
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She darted to the bell.
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"The butler shall show you out."
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"Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest efforts
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to avoid a scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter and
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all will be set right. If you will work with me I can arrange
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|
everything. If you work against me I must expose you."
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She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyes fixed upon
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his as if she would read his very soul. Her hand was on the
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bell, but she had forborne to ring it.
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"You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manly thing,
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Mr. Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman. You say that you
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know something. What is it that you know?"
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"Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall.
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I will not speak until you sit down. Thank you."
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"I give you five minutes, Mr. Holmes."
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"One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to Eduardo
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Lucas, of your giving him this document, of your ingenious
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return to the room last night, and of the manner in which you
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took the letter from the hiding-place under the carpet."
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She stared at him with an ashen face and gulped twice before she
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could speak.
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"You are mad, Mr. Holmes -- you are mad!" she cried, at last.
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|
He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the
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face of a woman cut out of a portrait.
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"I have carried this because I thought it might be useful,"
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said he. "The policeman has recognised it."
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She gave a gasp and her head dropped back in the chair.
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|
"Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter may
|
|
still be adjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to you.
|
|
My duty ends when I have returned the lost letter to your husband.
|
|
Take my advice and be frank with me; it is your only chance."
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|
|
Her courage was admirable. Even now she would not own defeat.
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|
|
"I tell you again, Mr. Holmes, that you are under some absurd
|
|
illusion."
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|
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|
Holmes rose from his chair.
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|
|
"I am sorry for you, Lady Hilda. I have done my best for you;
|
|
I can see that it is all in vain."
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|
He rang the bell. The butler entered.
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|
|
"Is Mr. Trelawney Hope at home?"
|
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|
|
"He will be home, sir, at a quarter to one."
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|
|
Holmes glanced at his watch.
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|
|
"Still a quarter of an hour," said he. "Very good, I shall wait."
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|
|
The butler had hardly closed the door behind him when Lady Hilda
|
|
was down on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands out-stretched,
|
|
her beautiful face upturned and wet with her tears.
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|
|
"Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!" she pleaded, in a frenzy
|
|
of supplication. "For Heaven's sake, don't tell him! I love
|
|
him so! I would not bring one shadow on his life, and this I
|
|
know would break his noble heart."
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|
|
|
Holmes raised the lady. "I am thankful, madam, that you have
|
|
come to your senses even at this last moment! There is not an
|
|
instant to lose. Where is the letter?"
|
|
|
|
She darted across to a writing-desk, unlocked it, and drew out
|
|
a long blue envelope.
|
|
|
|
"Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Would to Heaven I had never seen it!"
|
|
|
|
"How can we return it?" Holmes muttered. "Quick, quick,
|
|
we must think of some way! Where is the despatch-box?"
|
|
|
|
"Still in his bedroom."
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|
|
|
"What a stroke of luck! Quick, madam, bring it here!"
|
|
|
|
A moment later she had appeared with a red flat box in her hand.
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|
|
|
"How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key?
|
|
Yes, of course you have. Open it!"
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|
|
|
From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key.
|
|
The box flew open. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust
|
|
the blue envelope deep down into the heart of them, between
|
|
the leaves of some other document. The box was shut, locked,
|
|
and returned to the bedroom.
|
|
|
|
"Now we are ready for him," said Holmes; "we have still ten
|
|
minutes. I am going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In return
|
|
you will spend the time in telling me frankly the real meaning
|
|
of this extraordinary affair."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything," cried the lady.
|
|
"Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would cut off my right hand before I gave him
|
|
a moment of sorrow! There is no woman in all London who loves her
|
|
husband as I do, and yet if he knew how I have acted -- how I have
|
|
been compelled to act -- he would never forgive me. For his own
|
|
honour stands so high that he could not forget or pardon a lapse
|
|
in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! My happiness, his happiness,
|
|
our very lives are at stake!"
|
|
|
|
"Quick, madam, the time grows short!"
|
|
|
|
"It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letter
|
|
written before my marriage -- a foolish letter, a letter of an
|
|
impulsive, loving girl. I meant no harm, and yet he would have
|
|
thought it criminal. Had he read that letter his confidence
|
|
would have been for ever destroyed. It is years since I wrote it.
|
|
I had thought that the whole matter was forgotten. Then at last
|
|
I heard from this man, Lucas, that it had passed into his hands,
|
|
and that he would lay it before my husband. I implored his mercy.
|
|
He said that he would return my letter if I would bring him a
|
|
certain document which he described in my husband's despatch-box.
|
|
He had some spy in the office who had told him of its existence.
|
|
He assured me that no harm could come to my husband. Put yourself
|
|
in my position, Mr. Holmes! What was I to do?"
|
|
|
|
"Take your husband into your confidence."
|
|
|
|
"I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemed
|
|
certain ruin; on the other, terrible as it seemed to take my
|
|
husband's paper, still in a matter of politics I could not
|
|
understand the consequences, while in a matter of love and trust
|
|
they were only too clear to me. I did it, Mr. Holmes! I took
|
|
an impression of his key; this man Lucas furnished a duplicate.
|
|
I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, and conveyed it to
|
|
Godolphin Street."
|
|
|
|
"What happened there, madam?"
|
|
|
|
"I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed
|
|
him into his room, leaving the hall door ajar behind me, for I
|
|
feared to be alone with the man. I remember that there was a
|
|
woman outside as I entered. Our business was soon done. He had
|
|
my letter on his desk; I handed him the document. He gave me
|
|
the letter. At this instant there was a sound at the door.
|
|
There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turned back the
|
|
drugget, thrust the document into some hiding-place there, and
|
|
covered it over.
|
|
|
|
"What happened after that is like some fearful dream.
|
|
I have a vision of a dark, frantic face, of a woman's voice,
|
|
which screamed in French, `My waiting is not in vain. At last,
|
|
at last I have found you with her!' There was a savage struggle.
|
|
I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knife gleamed in hers.
|
|
I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house, and only
|
|
next morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result.
|
|
That night I was happy, for I had my letter, and I had not seen
|
|
yet what the future would bring.
|
|
|
|
"It was the next morning that I realized that I had only
|
|
exchanged one trouble for another. My husband's anguish at the
|
|
loss of his paper went to my heart. I could hardly prevent
|
|
myself from there and then kneeling down at his feet and telling
|
|
him what I had done. But that again would mean a confession of
|
|
the past. I came to you that morning in order to understand the
|
|
full enormity of my offence. From the instant that I grasped it
|
|
my whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting back my
|
|
husband's paper. It must still be where Lucas had placed it,
|
|
for it was concealed before this dreadful woman entered the
|
|
room. If it had not been for her coming, I should not have
|
|
known where his hiding-place was. How was I to get into the
|
|
room? For two days I watched the place, but the door was never
|
|
left open. Last night I made a last attempt. What I did and
|
|
how I succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paper
|
|
back with me, and thought of destroying it since I could see no
|
|
way of returning it, without confessing my guilt to my husband.
|
|
Heavens, I hear his step upon the stair!"
|
|
|
|
The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room.
|
|
|
|
"Any news, Mr. Holmes, any news?" he cried.
|
|
|
|
"I have some hopes."
|
|
|
|
"Ah, thank heaven!" His face became radiant. "The Prime
|
|
Minister is lunching with me. May he share your hopes? He has
|
|
nerves of steel, and yet I know that he has hardly slept since
|
|
this terrible event. Jacobs, will you ask the Prime Minister
|
|
to come up? As to you, dear, I fear that this is a matter of
|
|
politics. We will join you in a few minutes in the dining-room."
|
|
|
|
The Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see by
|
|
the gleam of his eyes and the twitchings of his bony hands
|
|
that he shared the excitement of his young colleague.
|
|
|
|
"I understand that you have something to report, Mr. Holmes?"
|
|
|
|
"Purely negative as yet," my friend answered. "I have inquired
|
|
at every point where it might be, and I am sure that there is no
|
|
danger to be apprehended."
|
|
|
|
"But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live for ever
|
|
on such a volcano. We must have something definite."
|
|
|
|
"I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here.
|
|
The more I think of the matter the more convinced I am
|
|
that the letter has never left this house."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes!"
|
|
|
|
"If it had it would certainly have been public by now."
|
|
|
|
"But why should anyone take it in order to keep it in his house?"
|
|
|
|
"I am not convinced that anyone did take it."
|
|
|
|
"Then how could it leave the despatch-box?"
|
|
|
|
"I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box."
|
|
|
|
"Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-timed. You have my
|
|
assurance that it left the box."
|
|
|
|
"Have you examined the box since Tuesday morning?"
|
|
|
|
"No; it was not necessary."
|
|
|
|
"You may conceivably have overlooked it."
|
|
|
|
"Impossible, I say."
|
|
|
|
"But I am not convinced of it; I have known such things to happen.
|
|
I presume there are other papers there. Well, it may have got
|
|
mixed with them."
|
|
|
|
"It was on the top."
|
|
|
|
"Someone may have shaken the box and displaced it."
|
|
|
|
"No, no; I had everything out."
|
|
|
|
"Surely it is easily decided, Hope," said the Premier.
|
|
"Let us have the despatch-box brought in."
|
|
|
|
The Secretary rang the bell.
|
|
|
|
"Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical waste
|
|
of time, but still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shall
|
|
be done. Thank you, Jacobs; put it here. I have always had the
|
|
key on my watch-chain. Here are the papers, you see. Letter
|
|
from Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles Hardy, memorandum from
|
|
Belgrade, note on the Russo-German grain taxes, letter from
|
|
Madrid, note from Lord Flowers -- good heavens! what is this?
|
|
Lord Bellinger! Lord Bellinger!"
|
|
|
|
The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand.
|
|
|
|
"Yes, it is it -- and the letter is intact. Hope, I congratulate you."
|
|
|
|
"Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But this
|
|
is inconceivable -- impossible. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard,
|
|
a sorcerer! How did you know it was there?"
|
|
|
|
"Because I knew it was nowhere else."
|
|
|
|
"I cannot believe my eyes!" He ran wildly to the door.
|
|
"Where is my wife? I must tell her that all is well.
|
|
Hilda! Hilda!" we heard his voice on the stairs.
|
|
|
|
The Premier looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes.
|
|
|
|
"Come, sir," said he. "There is more in this than meets the eye.
|
|
How came the letter back in the box?"
|
|
|
|
Holmes turned away smiling from the keen scrutiny of those
|
|
wonderful eyes.
|
|
|
|
"We also have our diplomatic secrets," said he, and picking up
|
|
his hat he turned to the door.
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------
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End of Project Gutenberg etext of "The Return of Sherlock Holmes"
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[Magazine Edition]
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