THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES | |
Arthur Conan Doyle | |
Table of contents | |
A Scandal in Bohemia | |
The Red-Headed League | |
A Case of Identity | |
The Boscombe Valley Mystery | |
The Five Orange Pips | |
The Man with the Twisted Lip | |
The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle | |
The Adventure of the Speckled Band | |
The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb | |
The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor | |
The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet | |
The Adventure of the Copper Beeches | |
A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA | |
Table of contents | |
Chapter 1 | |
Chapter 2 | |
Chapter 3 | |
CHAPTER I | |
To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him | |
mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and | |
predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any | |
emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one | |
particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably | |
balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and | |
observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would | |
have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer | |
passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things | |
for the observer--excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives | |
and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions | |
into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to | |
introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his | |
mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of | |
his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong | |
emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to | |
him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and | |
questionable memory. | |
I had seen little of Holmes lately. My marriage had drifted us away | |
from each other. My own complete happiness, and the home-centred | |
interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master | |
of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, | |
while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole | |
Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among | |
his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and | |
ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of his | |
own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study | |
of crime, and occupied his immense faculties and extraordinary powers | |
of observation in following out those clues, and clearing up those | |
mysteries which had been abandoned as hopeless by the official | |
police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: | |
of his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff murder, of his | |
clearing up of the singular tragedy of the Atkinson brothers at | |
Trincomalee, and finally of the mission which he had accomplished so | |
delicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland. | |
Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merely shared | |
with all the readers of the daily press, I knew little of my former | |
friend and companion. | |
One night--it was on the twentieth of March, 1888--I was returning | |
from a journey to a patient (for I had now returned to civil | |
practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the | |
well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with | |
my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was | |
seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was | |
employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, | |
and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in | |
a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, | |
eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped | |
behind him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit, his attitude | |
and manner told their own story. He was at work again. He had risen | |
out of his drug-created dreams and was hot upon the scent of some new | |
problem. I rang the bell and was shown up to the chamber which had | |
formerly been in part my own. | |
His manner was not effusive. It seldom was; but he was glad, I think, | |
to see me. With hardly a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved | |
me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indicated a | |
spirit case and a gasogene in the corner. Then he stood before the | |
fire and looked me over in his singular introspective fashion. | |
"Wedlock suits you," he remarked. "I think, Watson, that you have put | |
on seven and a half pounds since I saw you." | |
"Seven!" I answered. | |
"Indeed, I should have thought a little more. Just a trifle more, I | |
fancy, Watson. And in practice again, I observe. You did not tell me | |
that you intended to go into harness." | |
"Then, how do you know?" | |
"I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting | |
yourself very wet lately, and that you have a most clumsy and | |
careless servant girl?" | |
"My dear Holmes," said I, "this is too much. You would certainly have | |
been burned, had you lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had | |
a country walk on Thursday and came home in a dreadful mess, but as I | |
have changed my clothes I can't imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary | |
Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has given her notice, but | |
there, again, I fail to see how you work it out." | |
He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nervous hands together. | |
"It is simplicity itself," said he; "my eyes tell me that on the | |
inside of your left shoe, just where the firelight strikes it, the | |
leather is scored by six almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have | |
been caused by someone who has very carelessly scraped round the | |
edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence, you | |
see, my double deduction that you had been out in vile weather, and | |
that you had a particularly malignant boot-slitting specimen of the | |
London slavey. As to your practice, if a gentleman walks into my | |
rooms smelling of iodoform, with a black mark of nitrate of silver | |
upon his right forefinger, and a bulge on the right side of his | |
top-hat to show where he has secreted his stethoscope, I must be | |
dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce him to be an active member of the | |
medical profession." | |
I could not help laughing at the ease with which he explained his | |
process of deduction. "When I hear you give your reasons," I | |
remarked, "the thing always appears to me to be so ridiculously | |
simple that I could easily do it myself, though at each successive | |
instance of your reasoning I am baffled until you explain your | |
process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good as yours." | |
"Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and throwing himself | |
down into an armchair. "You see, but you do not observe. The | |
distinction is clear. For example, you have frequently seen the steps | |
which lead up from the hall to this room." | |
"Frequently." | |
"How often?" | |
"Well, some hundreds of times." | |
"Then how many are there?" | |
"How many? I don't know." | |
"Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is just | |
my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, because I have | |
both seen and observed. By-the-way, since you are interested in these | |
little problems, and since you are good enough to chronicle one or | |
two of my trifling experiences, you may be interested in this." He | |
threw over a sheet of thick, pink-tinted note-paper which had been | |
lying open upon the table. "It came by the last post," said he. "Read | |
it aloud." | |
The note was undated, and without either signature or address. | |
"There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter to eight o'clock," | |
it said, "a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the | |
very deepest moment. Your recent services to one of the royal houses | |
of Europe have shown that you are one who may safely be trusted with | |
matters which are of an importance which can hardly be exaggerated. | |
This account of you we have from all quarters received. Be in your | |
chamber then at that hour, and do not take it amiss if your visitor | |
wear a mask." | |
"This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. "What do you imagine that it | |
means?" | |
"I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to theorize before one | |
has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, | |
instead of theories to suit facts. But the note itself. What do you | |
deduce from it?" | |
I carefully examined the writing, and the paper upon which it was | |
written. | |
"The man who wrote it was presumably well to do," I remarked, | |
endeavouring to imitate my companion's processes. "Such paper could | |
not be bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strong | |
and stiff." | |
"Peculiar--that is the very word," said Holmes. "It is not an English | |
paper at all. Hold it up to the light." | |
I did so, and saw a large "E" with a small "g," a "P," and a large | |
"G" with a small "t" woven into the texture of the paper. | |
"What do you make of that?" asked Holmes. | |
"The name of the maker, no doubt; or his monogram, rather." | |
"Not at all. The 'G' with the small 't' stands for 'Gesellschaft,' | |
which is the German for 'Company.' It is a customary contraction like | |
our 'Co.' 'P,' of course, stands for 'Papier.' Now for the 'Eg.' Let | |
us glance at our Continental Gazetteer." He took down a heavy brown | |
volume from his shelves. "Eglow, Eglonitz--here we are, Egria. It is | |
in a German-speaking country--in Bohemia, not far from Carlsbad. | |
'Remarkable as being the scene of the death of Wallenstein, and for | |
its numerous glass-factories and paper-mills.' Ha, ha, my boy, what | |
do you make of that?" His eyes sparkled, and he sent up a great blue | |
triumphant cloud from his cigarette. | |
"The paper was made in Bohemia," I said. | |
"Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is a German. Do you note | |
the peculiar construction of the sentence--'This account of you we | |
have from all quarters received.' A Frenchman or Russian could not | |
have written that. It is the German who is so uncourteous to his | |
verbs. It only remains, therefore, to discover what is wanted by this | |
German who writes upon Bohemian paper and prefers wearing a mask to | |
showing his face. And here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to resolve | |
all our doubts." | |
As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses' hoofs and grating | |
wheels against the curb, followed by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes | |
whistled. | |
"A pair, by the sound," said he. "Yes," he continued, glancing out of | |
the window. "A nice little brougham and a pair of beauties. A hundred | |
and fifty guineas apiece. There's money in this case, Watson, if | |
there is nothing else." | |
"I think that I had better go, Holmes." | |
"Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell. | |
And this promises to be interesting. It would be a pity to miss it." | |
"But your client--" | |
"Never mind him. I may want your help, and so may he. Here he comes. | |
Sit down in that armchair, Doctor, and give us your best attention." | |
A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in | |
the passage, paused immediately outside the door. Then there was a | |
loud and authoritative tap. | |
"Come in!" said Holmes. | |
A man entered who could hardly have been less than six feet six | |
inches in height, with the chest and limbs of a Hercules. His dress | |
was rich with a richness which would, in England, be looked upon as | |
akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed across the | |
sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue | |
cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined with | |
flame-coloured silk and secured at the neck with a brooch which | |
consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots which extended halfway up | |
his calves, and which were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur, | |
completed the impression of barbaric opulence which was suggested by | |
his whole appearance. He carried a broad-brimmed hat in his hand, | |
while he wore across the upper part of his face, extending down past | |
the cheekbones, a black vizard mask, which he had apparently adjusted | |
that very moment, for his hand was still raised to it as he entered. | |
From the lower part of the face he appeared to be a man of strong | |
character, with a thick, hanging lip, and a long, straight chin | |
suggestive of resolution pushed to the length of obstinacy. | |
"You had my note?" he asked with a deep harsh voice and a strongly | |
marked German accent. "I told you that I would call." He looked from | |
one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to address. | |
"Pray take a seat," said Holmes. "This is my friend and colleague, | |
Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases. | |
Whom have I the honour to address?" | |
"You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I | |
understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honour and | |
discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extreme | |
importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with you | |
alone." | |
I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back | |
into my chair. "It is both, or none," said he. "You may say before | |
this gentleman anything which you may say to me." | |
The Count shrugged his broad shoulders. "Then I must begin," said he, | |
"by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at the end of | |
that time the matter will be of no importance. At present it is not | |
too much to say that it is of such weight it may have an influence | |
upon European history." | |
"I promise," said Holmes. | |
"And I." | |
"You will excuse this mask," continued our strange visitor. "The | |
august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, | |
and I may confess at once that the title by which I have just called | |
myself is not exactly my own." | |
"I was aware of it," said Holmes dryly. | |
"The circumstances are of great delicacy, and every precaution has to | |
be taken to quench what might grow to be an immense scandal and | |
seriously compromise one of the reigning families of Europe. To speak | |
plainly, the matter implicates the great House of Ormstein, | |
hereditary kings of Bohemia." | |
"I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes, settling himself down in | |
his armchair and closing his eyes. | |
Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise at the languid, | |
lounging figure of the man who had been no doubt depicted to him as | |
the most incisive reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe. Holmes | |
slowly reopened his eyes and looked impatiently at his gigantic | |
client. | |
"If your Majesty would condescend to state your case," he remarked, | |
"I should be better able to advise you." | |
The man sprang from his chair and paced up and down the room in | |
uncontrollable agitation. Then, with a gesture of desperation, he | |
tore the mask from his face and hurled it upon the ground. "You are | |
right," he cried; "I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal | |
it?" | |
"Why, indeed?" murmured Holmes. "Your Majesty had not spoken before I | |
was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von | |
Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hereditary King of | |
Bohemia." | |
"But you can understand," said our strange visitor, sitting down once | |
more and passing his hand over his high white forehead, "you can | |
understand that I am not accustomed to doing such business in my own | |
person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could not confide it to | |
an agent without putting myself in his power. I have come incognito | |
from Prague for the purpose of consulting you." | |
"Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his eyes once more. | |
"The facts are briefly these: Some five years ago, during a lengthy | |
visit to Warsaw, I made the acquaintance of the well-known | |
adventuress, Irene Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you." | |
"Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor," murmured Holmes without | |
opening his eyes. For many years he had adopted a system of docketing | |
all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that it was difficult to | |
name a subject or a person on which he could not at once furnish | |
information. In this case I found her biography sandwiched in between | |
that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a staff-commander who had written | |
a monograph upon the deep-sea fishes. | |
"Let me see!" said Holmes. "Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year 1858. | |
Contralto--hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera of | |
Warsaw--yes! Retired from operatic stage--ha! Living in London--quite | |
so! Your Majesty, as I understand, became entangled with this young | |
person, wrote her some compromising letters, and is now desirous of | |
getting those letters back." | |
"Precisely so. But how--" | |
"Was there a secret marriage?" | |
"None." | |
"No legal papers or certificates?" | |
"None." | |
"Then I fail to follow your Majesty. If this young person should | |
produce her letters for blackmailing or other purposes, how is she to | |
prove their authenticity?" | |
"There is the writing." | |
"Pooh, pooh! Forgery." | |
"My private note-paper." | |
"Stolen." | |
"My own seal." | |
"Imitated." | |
"My photograph." | |
"Bought." | |
"We were both in the photograph." | |
"Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeed committed an | |
indiscretion." | |
"I was mad--insane." | |
"You have compromised yourself seriously." | |
"I was only Crown Prince then. I was young. I am but thirty now." | |
"It must be recovered." | |
"We have tried and failed." | |
"Your Majesty must pay. It must be bought." | |
"She will not sell." | |
"Stolen, then." | |
"Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked her | |
house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice she has | |
been waylaid. There has been no result." | |
"No sign of it?" | |
"Absolutely none." | |
Holmes laughed. "It is quite a pretty little problem," said he. | |
"But a very serious one to me," returned the King reproachfully. | |
"Very, indeed. And what does she propose to do with the photograph?" | |
"To ruin me." | |
"But how?" | |
"I am about to be married." | |
"So I have heard." | |
"To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meningen, second daughter of the King | |
of Scandinavia. You may know the strict principles of her family. She | |
is herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a doubt as to my | |
conduct would bring the matter to an end." | |
"And Irene Adler?" | |
"Threatens to send them the photograph. And she will do it. I know | |
that she will do it. You do not know her, but she has a soul of | |
steel. She has the face of the most beautiful of women, and the mind | |
of the most resolute of men. Rather than I should marry another | |
woman, there are no lengths to which she would not go--none." | |
"You are sure that she has not sent it yet?" | |
"I am sure." | |
"And why?" | |
"Because she has said that she would send it on the day when the | |
betrothal was publicly proclaimed. That will be next Monday." | |
"Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes with a yawn. "That is | |
very fortunate, as I have one or two matters of importance to look | |
into just at present. Your Majesty will, of course, stay in London | |
for the present?" | |
"Certainly. You will find me at the Langham under the name of the | |
Count Von Kramm." | |
"Then I shall drop you a line to let you know how we progress." | |
"Pray do so. I shall be all anxiety." | |
"Then, as to money?" | |
"You have carte blanche." | |
"Absolutely?" | |
"I tell you that I would give one of the provinces of my kingdom to | |
have that photograph." | |
"And for present expenses?" | |
The King took a heavy chamois leather bag from under his cloak and | |
laid it on the table. | |
"There are three hundred pounds in gold and seven hundred in notes," | |
he said. | |
Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-book and handed | |
it to him. | |
"And Mademoiselle's address?" he asked. | |
"Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's Wood." | |
Holmes took a note of it. "One other question," said he. "Was the | |
photograph a cabinet?" | |
"It was." | |
"Then, good-night, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have | |
some good news for you. And good-night, Watson," he added, as the | |
wheels of the royal brougham rolled down the street. "If you will be | |
good enough to call to-morrow afternoon at three o'clock I should | |
like to chat this little matter over with you." | |
CHAPTER II | |
At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not | |
yet returned. The landlady informed me that he had left the house | |
shortly after eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down beside the | |
fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him, however long he | |
might be. I was already deeply interested in his inquiry, for, though | |
it was surrounded by none of the grim and strange features which were | |
associated with the two crimes which I have already recorded, still, | |
the nature of the case and the exalted station of his client gave it | |
a character of its own. Indeed, apart from the nature of the | |
investigation which my friend had on hand, there was something in his | |
masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, | |
which made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to | |
follow the quick, subtle methods by which he disentangled the most | |
inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his invariable success | |
that the very possibility of his failing had ceased to enter into my | |
head. | |
It was close upon four before the door opened, and a drunken-looking | |
groom, ill-kempt and side-whiskered, with an inflamed face and | |
disreputable clothes, walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my | |
friend's amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had to look three | |
times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he | |
vanished into the bedroom, whence he emerged in five minutes | |
tweed-suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands into his | |
pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of the fire and laughed | |
heartily for some minutes. | |
"Well, really!" he cried, and then he choked and laughed again until | |
he was obliged to lie back, limp and helpless, in the chair. | |
"What is it?" | |
"It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never guess how I employed | |
my morning, or what I ended by doing." | |
"I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been watching the habits, | |
and perhaps the house, of Miss Irene Adler." | |
"Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, | |
however. I left the house a little after eight o'clock this morning | |
in the character of a groom out of work. There is a wonderful | |
sympathy and freemasonry among horsey men. Be one of them, and you | |
will know all that there is to know. I soon found Briony Lodge. It is | |
a bijou villa, with a garden at the back, but built out in front | |
right up to the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large | |
sitting-room on the right side, well furnished, with long windows | |
almost to the floor, and those preposterous English window fasteners | |
which a child could open. Behind there was nothing remarkable, save | |
that the passage window could be reached from the top of the | |
coach-house. I walked round it and examined it closely from every | |
point of view, but without noting anything else of interest. | |
"I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected, that there | |
was a mews in a lane which runs down by one wall of the garden. I | |
lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in | |
exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two fills of shag | |
tobacco, and as much information as I could desire about Miss Adler, | |
to say nothing of half a dozen other people in the neighbourhood in | |
whom I was not in the least interested, but whose biographies I was | |
compelled to listen to." | |
"And what of Irene Adler?" I asked. | |
"Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in that part. She is the | |
daintiest thing under a bonnet on this planet. So say the | |
Serpentine-mews, to a man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, | |
drives out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for dinner. | |
Seldom goes out at other times, except when she sings. Has only one | |
male visitor, but a good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and | |
dashing, never calls less than once a day, and often twice. He is a | |
Mr. Godfrey Norton, of the Inner Temple. See the advantages of a | |
cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home a dozen times from | |
Serpentine-mews, and knew all about him. When I had listened to all | |
they had to tell, I began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once | |
more, and to think over my plan of campaign. | |
"This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important factor in the matter. | |
He was a lawyer. That sounded ominous. What was the relation between | |
them, and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client, | |
his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she had probably | |
transferred the photograph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less | |
likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should | |
continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn my attention to the | |
gentleman's chambers in the Temple. It was a delicate point, and it | |
widened the field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with these | |
details, but I have to let you see my little difficulties, if you are | |
to understand the situation." | |
"I am following you closely," I answered. | |
"I was still balancing the matter in my mind when a hansom cab drove | |
up to Briony Lodge, and a gentleman sprang out. He was a remarkably | |
handsome man, dark, aquiline, and moustached--evidently the man of | |
whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the | |
cabman to wait, and brushed past the maid who opened the door with | |
the air of a man who was thoroughly at home. | |
"He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses | |
of him in the windows of the sitting-room, pacing up and down, | |
talking excitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing. | |
Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried than before. As he | |
stepped up to the cab, he pulled a gold watch from his pocket and | |
looked at it earnestly, 'Drive like the devil,' he shouted, 'first to | |
Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then to the Church of St. | |
Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if you do it in twenty | |
minutes!' | |
"Away they went, and I was just wondering whether I should not do | |
well to follow them when up the lane came a neat little landau, the | |
coachman with his coat only half-buttoned, and his tie under his ear, | |
while all the tags of his harness were sticking out of the buckles. | |
It hadn't pulled up before she shot out of the hall door and into it. | |
I only caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but she was a lovely | |
woman, with a face that a man might die for. | |
"'The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried, 'and half a sovereign | |
if you reach it in twenty minutes.' | |
"This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was just balancing | |
whether I should run for it, or whether I should perch behind her | |
landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked twice at | |
such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could object. 'The | |
Church of St. Monica,' said I, 'and half a sovereign if you reach it | |
in twenty minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to twelve, and of | |
course it was clear enough what was in the wind. | |
"My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever drove faster, but the | |
others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their | |
steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the | |
man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there save the | |
two whom I had followed and a surpliced clergyman, who seemed to be | |
expostulating with them. They were all three standing in a knot in | |
front of the altar. I lounged up the side aisle like any other idler | |
who has dropped into a church. Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at | |
the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey Norton came running as hard | |
as he could towards me. | |
"'Thank God,' he cried. 'You'll do. Come! Come!' | |
"'What then?' I asked. | |
"'Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won't be legal.' | |
"I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was I | |
found myself mumbling responses which were whispered in my ear, and | |
vouching for things of which I knew nothing, and generally assisting | |
in the secure tying up of Irene Adler, spinster, to Godfrey Norton, | |
bachelor. It was all done in an instant, and there was the gentleman | |
thanking me on the one side and the lady on the other, while the | |
clergyman beamed on me in front. It was the most preposterous | |
position in which I ever found myself in my life, and it was the | |
thought of it that started me laughing just now. It seems that there | |
had been some informality about their license, that the clergyman | |
absolutely refused to marry them without a witness of some sort, and | |
that my lucky appearance saved the bridegroom from having to sally | |
out into the streets in search of a best man. The bride gave me a | |
sovereign, and I mean to wear it on my watch-chain in memory of the | |
occasion." | |
"This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said I; "and what then?" | |
"Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced. It looked as if the | |
pair might take an immediate departure, and so necessitate very | |
prompt and energetic measures on my part. At the church door, | |
however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to | |
her own house. 'I shall drive out in the park at five as usual,' she | |
said as she left him. I heard no more. They drove away in different | |
directions, and I went off to make my own arrangements." | |
"Which are?" | |
"Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he answered, ringing the bell. | |
"I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be busier | |
still this evening. By the way, Doctor, I shall want your | |
co-operation." | |
"I shall be delighted." | |
"You don't mind breaking the law?" | |
"Not in the least." | |
"Nor running a chance of arrest?" | |
"Not in a good cause." | |
"Oh, the cause is excellent!" | |
"Then I am your man." | |
"I was sure that I might rely on you." | |
"But what is it you wish?" | |
"When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I will make it clear to | |
you. Now," he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that our | |
landlady had provided, "I must discuss it while I eat, for I have not | |
much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on the | |
scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from her | |
drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to meet her." | |
"And what then?" | |
"You must leave that to me. I have already arranged what is to occur. | |
There is only one point on which I must insist. You must not | |
interfere, come what may. You understand?" | |
"I am to be neutral?" | |
"To do nothing whatever. There will probably be some small | |
unpleasantness. Do not join in it. It will end in my being conveyed | |
into the house. Four or five minutes afterwards the sitting-room | |
window will open. You are to station yourself close to that open | |
window." | |
"Yes." | |
"You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you." | |
"Yes." | |
"And when I raise my hand--so--you will throw into the room what I | |
give you to throw, and will, at the same time, raise the cry of fire. | |
You quite follow me?" | |
"Entirely." | |
"It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking a long cigar-shaped | |
roll from his pocket. "It is an ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, | |
fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting. Your task | |
is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it will be | |
taken up by quite a number of people. You may then walk to the end of | |
the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have | |
made myself clear?" | |
"I am to remain neutral, to get near the window, to watch you, and at | |
the signal to throw in this object, then to raise the cry of fire, | |
and to wait you at the corner of the street." | |
"Precisely." | |
"Then you may entirely rely on me." | |
"That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost time that I | |
prepare for the new role I have to play." | |
He disappeared into his bedroom and returned in a few minutes in the | |
character of an amiable and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. | |
His broad black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie, his | |
sympathetic smile, and general look of peering and benevolent | |
curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare alone could have equalled. It | |
was not merely that Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his | |
manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every fresh part that he | |
assumed. The stage lost a fine actor, even as science lost an acute | |
reasoner, when he became a specialist in crime. | |
It was a quarter past six when we left Baker Street, and it still | |
wanted ten minutes to the hour when we found ourselves in Serpentine | |
Avenue. It was already dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as | |
we paced up and down in front of Briony Lodge, waiting for the coming | |
of its occupant. The house was just such as I had pictured it from | |
Sherlock Holmes' succinct description, but the locality appeared to | |
be less private than I expected. On the contrary, for a small street | |
in a quiet neighbourhood, it was remarkably animated. There was a | |
group of shabbily dressed men smoking and laughing in a corner, a | |
scissors-grinder with his wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with | |
a nurse-girl, and several well-dressed young men who were lounging up | |
and down with cigars in their mouths. | |
"You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and fro in front of the | |
house, "this marriage rather simplifies matters. The photograph | |
becomes a double-edged weapon now. The chances are that she would be | |
as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Norton, as our client is | |
to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Now the question is--Where | |
are we to find the photograph?" | |
"Where, indeed?" | |
"It is most unlikely that she carries it about with her. It is | |
cabinet size. Too large for easy concealment about a woman's dress. | |
She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid and | |
searched. Two attempts of the sort have already been made. We may | |
take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her." | |
"Where, then?" | |
"Her banker or her lawyer. There is that double possibility. But I am | |
inclined to think neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they | |
like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to anyone | |
else? She could trust her own guardianship, but she could not tell | |
what indirect or political influence might be brought to bear upon a | |
business man. Besides, remember that she had resolved to use it | |
within a few days. It must be where she can lay her hands upon it. It | |
must be in her own house." | |
"But it has twice been burgled." | |
"Pshaw! They did not know how to look." | |
"But how will you look?" | |
"I will not look." | |
"What then?" | |
"I will get her to show me." | |
"But she will refuse." | |
"She will not be able to. But I hear the rumble of wheels. It is her | |
carriage. Now carry out my orders to the letter." | |
As he spoke the gleam of the side-lights of a carriage came round the | |
curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which rattled up to | |
the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the loafing men at | |
the corner dashed forward to open the door in the hope of earning a | |
copper, but was elbowed away by another loafer, who had rushed up | |
with the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke out, which was | |
increased by the two guardsmen, who took sides with one of the | |
loungers, and by the scissors-grinder, who was equally hot upon the | |
other side. A blow was struck, and in an instant the lady, who had | |
stepped from her carriage, was the centre of a little knot of flushed | |
and struggling men, who struck savagely at each other with their | |
fists and sticks. Holmes dashed into the crowd to protect the lady; | |
but just as he reached her he gave a cry and dropped to the ground, | |
with the blood running freely down his face. At his fall the | |
guardsmen took to their heels in one direction and the loungers in | |
the other, while a number of better-dressed people, who had watched | |
the scuffle without taking part in it, crowded in to help the lady | |
and to attend to the injured man. Irene Adler, as I will still call | |
her, had hurried up the steps; but she stood at the top with her | |
superb figure outlined against the lights of the hall, looking back | |
into the street. | |
"Is the poor gentleman much hurt?" she asked. | |
"He is dead," cried several voices. | |
"No, no, there's life in him!" shouted another. "But he'll be gone | |
before you can get him to hospital." | |
"He's a brave fellow," said a woman. "They would have had the lady's | |
purse and watch if it hadn't been for him. They were a gang, and a | |
rough one, too. Ah, he's breathing now." | |
"He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?" | |
"Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There is a comfortable | |
sofa. This way, please!" | |
Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out in | |
the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings from my | |
post by the window. The lamps had been lit, but the blinds had not | |
been drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon the couch. I do | |
not know whether he was seized with compunction at that moment for | |
the part he was playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily | |
ashamed of myself in my life than when I saw the beautiful creature | |
against whom I was conspiring, or the grace and kindliness with which | |
she waited upon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest | |
treachery to Holmes to draw back now from the part which he had | |
intrusted to me. I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket from | |
under my ulster. After all, I thought, we are not injuring her. We | |
are but preventing her from injuring another. | |
Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw him motion like a man who | |
is in need of air. A maid rushed across and threw open the window. At | |
the same instant I saw him raise his hand and at the signal I tossed | |
my rocket into the room with a cry of "Fire!" The word was no sooner | |
out of my mouth than the whole crowd of spectators, well dressed and | |
ill--gentlemen, ostlers, and servant-maids--joined in a general | |
shriek of "Fire!" Thick clouds of smoke curled through the room and | |
out at the open window. I caught a glimpse of rushing figures, and a | |
moment later the voice of Holmes from within assuring them that it | |
was a false alarm. Slipping through the shouting crowd I made my way | |
to the corner of the street, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find | |
my friend's arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of uproar. He | |
walked swiftly and in silence for some few minutes until we had | |
turned down one of the quiet streets which lead towards the Edgeware | |
Road. | |
"You did it very nicely, Doctor," he remarked. "Nothing could have | |
been better. It is all right." | |
"You have the photograph?" | |
"I know where it is." | |
"And how did you find out?" | |
"She showed me, as I told you she would." | |
"I am still in the dark." | |
"I do not wish to make a mystery," said he, laughing. "The matter was | |
perfectly simple. You, of course, saw that everyone in the street was | |
an accomplice. They were all engaged for the evening." | |
"I guessed as much." | |
"Then, when the row broke out, I had a little moist red paint in the | |
palm of my hand. I rushed forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my | |
face, and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick." | |
"That also I could fathom." | |
"Then they carried me in. She was bound to have me in. What else | |
could she do? And into her sitting-room, which was the very room | |
which I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was | |
determined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, | |
they were compelled to open the window, and you had your chance." | |
"How did that help you?" | |
"It was all-important. When a woman thinks that her house is on fire, | |
her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. | |
It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more than once | |
taken advantage of it. In the case of the Darlington substitution | |
scandal it was of use to me, and also in the Arnsworth Castle | |
business. A married woman grabs at her baby; an unmarried one reaches | |
for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to me that our lady of to-day had | |
nothing in the house more precious to her than what we are in quest | |
of. She would rush to secure it. The alarm of fire was admirably | |
done. The smoke and shouting were enough to shake nerves of steel. | |
She responded beautifully. The photograph is in a recess behind a | |
sliding panel just above the right bell-pull. She was there in an | |
instant, and I caught a glimpse of it as she half-drew it out. When I | |
cried out that it was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the | |
rocket, rushed from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, | |
and, making my excuses, escaped from the house. I hesitated whether | |
to attempt to secure the photograph at once; but the coachman had | |
come in, and as he was watching me narrowly it seemed safer to wait. | |
A little over-precipitance may ruin all." | |
"And now?" I asked. | |
"Our quest is practically finished. I shall call with the King | |
to-morrow, and with you, if you care to come with us. We will be | |
shown into the sitting-room to wait for the lady, but it is probable | |
that when she comes she may find neither us nor the photograph. It | |
might be a satisfaction to his Majesty to regain it with his own | |
hands." | |
"And when will you call?" | |
"At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall have a | |
clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a | |
complete change in her life and habits. I must wire to the King | |
without delay." | |
We had reached Baker Street and had stopped at the door. He was | |
searching his pockets for the key when someone passing said: | |
"Good-night, Mister Sherlock Holmes." | |
There were several people on the pavement at the time, but the | |
greeting appeared to come from a slim youth in an ulster who had | |
hurried by. | |
"I've heard that voice before," said Holmes, staring down the dimly | |
lit street. "Now, I wonder who the deuce that could have been." | |
CHAPTER III | |
I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our | |
toast and coffee in the morning when the King of Bohemia rushed into | |
the room. | |
"You have really got it!" he cried, grasping Sherlock Holmes by | |
either shoulder and looking eagerly into his face. | |
"Not yet." | |
"But you have hopes?" | |
"I have hopes." | |
"Then, come. I am all impatience to be gone." | |
"We must have a cab." | |
"No, my brougham is waiting." | |
"Then that will simplify matters." We descended and started off once | |
more for Briony Lodge. | |
"Irene Adler is married," remarked Holmes. | |
"Married! When?" | |
"Yesterday." | |
"But to whom?" | |
"To an English lawyer named Norton." | |
"But she could not love him." | |
"I am in hopes that she does." | |
"And why in hopes?" | |
"Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of future annoyance. If | |
the lady loves her husband, she does not love your Majesty. If she | |
does not love your Majesty, there is no reason why she should | |
interfere with your Majesty's plan." | |
"It is true. And yet--Well! I wish she had been of my own station! | |
What a queen she would have made!" He relapsed into a moody silence, | |
which was not broken until we drew up in Serpentine Avenue. | |
The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an elderly woman stood upon | |
the steps. She watched us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the | |
brougham. | |
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe?" said she. | |
"I am Mr. Holmes," answered my companion, looking at her with a | |
questioning and rather startled gaze. | |
"Indeed! My mistress told me that you were likely to call. She left | |
this morning with her husband by the 5.15 train from Charing Cross | |
for the Continent." | |
"What!" Sherlock Holmes staggered back, white with chagrin and | |
surprise. "Do you mean that she has left England?" | |
"Never to return." | |
"And the papers?" asked the King hoarsely. "All is lost." | |
"We shall see." He pushed past the servant and rushed into the | |
drawing-room, followed by the King and myself. The furniture was | |
scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open | |
drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ransacked them before her | |
flight. Holmes rushed at the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding | |
shutter, and, plunging in his hand, pulled out a photograph and a | |
letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler herself in evening dress, | |
the letter was superscribed to "Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till | |
called for." My friend tore it open and we all three read it | |
together. It was dated at midnight of the preceding night and ran in | |
this way: | |
"My dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes: | |
"You really did it very well. You took me in completely. Until after | |
the alarm of fire, I had not a suspicion. But then, when I found how | |
I had betrayed myself, I began to think. I had been warned against | |
you months ago. I had been told that if the King employed an agent it | |
would certainly be you. And your address had been given me. Yet, with | |
all this, you made me reveal what you wanted to know. Even after I | |
became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind | |
old clergyman. But, you know, I have been trained as an actress | |
myself. Male costume is nothing new to me. I often take advantage of | |
the freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you, | |
ran up stairs, got into my walking-clothes, as I call them, and came | |
down just as you departed. | |
"Well, I followed you to your door, and so made sure that I was | |
really an object of interest to the celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. | |
Then I, rather imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for | |
the Temple to see my husband. | |
"We both thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so | |
formidable an antagonist; so you will find the nest empty when you | |
call to-morrow. As to the photograph, your client may rest in peace. | |
I love and am loved by a better man than he. The King may do what he | |
will without hindrance from one whom he has cruelly wronged. I keep | |
it only to safeguard myself, and to preserve a weapon which will | |
always secure me from any steps which he might take in the future. I | |
leave a photograph which he might care to possess; and I remain, dear | |
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, | |
"Very truly yours, | |
"Irene Norton, née Adler." | |
"What a woman--oh, what a woman!" cried the King of Bohemia, when we | |
had all three read this epistle. "Did I not tell you how quick and | |
resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Is it | |
not a pity that she was not on my level?" | |
"From what I have seen of the lady she seems indeed to be on a very | |
different level to your Majesty," said Holmes coldly. "I am sorry | |
that I have not been able to bring your Majesty's business to a more | |
successful conclusion." | |
"On the contrary, my dear sir," cried the King; "nothing could be | |
more successful. I know that her word is inviolate. The photograph is | |
now as safe as if it were in the fire." | |
"I am glad to hear your Majesty say so." | |
"I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me in what way I can | |
reward you. This ring--" He slipped an emerald snake ring from his | |
finger and held it out upon the palm of his hand. | |
"Your Majesty has something which I should value even more highly," | |
said Holmes. | |
"You have but to name it." | |
"This photograph!" | |
The King stared at him in amazement. | |
"Irene's photograph!" he cried. "Certainly, if you wish it." | |
"I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the | |
matter. I have the honour to wish you a very good-morning." He bowed, | |
and, turning away without observing the hand which the King had | |
stretched out to him, he set off in my company for his chambers. | |
And that was how a great scandal threatened to affect the kingdom of | |
Bohemia, and how the best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by | |
a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, | |
but I have not heard him do it of late. And when he speaks of Irene | |
Adler, or when he refers to her photograph, it is always under the | |
honourable title of the woman. | |
THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE | |
I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the | |
autumn of last year and found him in deep conversation with a very | |
stout, florid-faced, elderly gentleman with fiery red hair. With an | |
apology for my intrusion, I was about to withdraw when Holmes pulled | |
me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me. | |
"You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear Watson," | |
he said cordially. | |
"I was afraid that you were engaged." | |
"So I am. Very much so." | |
"Then I can wait in the next room." | |
"Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and | |
helper in many of my most successful cases, and I have no doubt that | |
he will be of the utmost use to me in yours also." | |
The stout gentleman half rose from his chair and gave a bob of | |
greeting, with a quick little questioning glance from his small | |
fat-encircled eyes. | |
"Try the settee," said Holmes, relapsing into his armchair and | |
putting his fingertips together, as was his custom when in judicial | |
moods. "I know, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is | |
bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine of everyday | |
life. You have shown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has | |
prompted you to chronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, | |
somewhat to embellish so many of my own little adventures." | |
"Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me," I | |
observed. | |
"You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we went | |
into the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, that | |
for strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life | |
itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the | |
imagination." | |
"A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting." | |
"You did, Doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view, | |
for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you until your | |
reason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now, | |
Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this | |
morning, and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the | |
most singular which I have listened to for some time. You have heard | |
me remark that the strangest and most unique things are very often | |
connected not with the larger but with the smaller crimes, and | |
occasionally, indeed, where there is room for doubt whether any | |
positive crime has been committed. As far as I have heard it is | |
impossible for me to say whether the present case is an instance of | |
crime or not, but the course of events is certainly among the most | |
singular that I have ever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would | |
have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I ask you not | |
merely because my friend Dr. Watson has not heard the opening part | |
but also because the peculiar nature of the story makes me anxious to | |
have every possible detail from your lips. As a rule, when I have | |
heard some slight indication of the course of events, I am able to | |
guide myself by the thousands of other similar cases which occur to | |
my memory. In the present instance I am forced to admit that the | |
facts are, to the best of my belief, unique." | |
The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of some | |
little pride and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the | |
inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement | |
column, with his head thrust forward and the paper flattened out upon | |
his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the | |
fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be | |
presented by his dress or appearance. | |
I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor bore | |
every mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese, | |
pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd's check | |
trousers, a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front, | |
and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square | |
pierced bit of metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat | |
and a faded brown overcoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a | |
chair beside him. Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing | |
remarkable about the man save his blazing red head, and the | |
expression of extreme chagrin and discontent upon his features. | |
Sherlock Holmes' quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook his | |
head with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. "Beyond the | |
obvious facts that he has at some time done manual labour, that he | |
takes snuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and | |
that he has done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can | |
deduce nothing else." | |
Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon | |
the paper, but his eyes upon my companion. | |
"How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr. | |
Holmes?" he asked. "How did you know, for example, that I did manual | |
labour. It's as true as gospel, for I began as a ship's carpenter." | |
"Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger than | |
your left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more | |
developed." | |
"Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?" | |
"I won't insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that, | |
especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you use | |
an arc-and-compass breastpin." | |
"Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?" | |
"What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for five | |
inches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where | |
you rest it upon the desk?" | |
"Well, but China?" | |
"The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wrist | |
could only have been done in China. I have made a small study of | |
tattoo marks and have even contributed to the literature of the | |
subject. That trick of staining the fishes' scales of a delicate pink | |
is quite peculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin | |
hanging from your watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple." | |
Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. "Well, I never!" said he. "I | |
thought at first that you had done something clever, but I see that | |
there was nothing in it, after all." | |
"I begin to think, Watson," said Holmes, "that I make a mistake in | |
explaining. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico,' you know, and my poor | |
little reputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so | |
candid. Can you not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?" | |
"Yes, I have got it now," he answered with his thick red finger | |
planted halfway down the column. "Here it is. This is what began it | |
all. You just read it for yourself, sir." | |
I took the paper from him and read as follows: | |
"To the Red-headed League: On account of the bequest of the late | |
Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pennsylvania, U. S. A., there is now | |
another vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a | |
salary of ÂŁ4 a week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men | |
who are sound in body and mind and above the age of twenty-one years, | |
are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o'clock, to Duncan | |
Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 Pope's Court, Fleet Street." | |
"What on earth does this mean?" I ejaculated after I had twice read | |
over the extraordinary announcement. | |
Holmes chuckled and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when in | |
high spirits. "It is a little off the beaten track, isn't it?" said | |
he. "And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us all about | |
yourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement had | |
upon your fortunes. You will first make a note, Doctor, of the paper | |
and the date." | |
"It is The Morning Chronicle of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago." | |
"Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?" | |
"Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," | |
said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; "I have a small pawnbroker's | |
business at Coburg Square, near the City. It's not a very large | |
affair, and of late years it has not done more than just give me a | |
living. I used to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep | |
one; and I would have a job to pay him but that he is willing to come | |
for half wages so as to learn the business." | |
"What is the name of this obliging youth?" asked Sherlock Holmes. | |
"His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he's not such a youth, either. | |
It's hard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr. | |
Holmes; and I know very well that he could better himself and earn | |
twice what I am able to give him. But, after all, if he is satisfied, | |
why should I put ideas in his head?" | |
"Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an employee who comes | |
under the full market price. It is not a common experience among | |
employers in this age. I don't know that your assistant is not as | |
remarkable as your advertisement." | |
"Oh, he has his faults, too," said Mr. Wilson. "Never was such a | |
fellow for photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought to | |
be improving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a | |
rabbit into its hole to develop his pictures. That is his main fault, | |
but on the whole he's a good worker. There's no vice in him." | |
"He is still with you, I presume?" | |
"Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple | |
cooking and keeps the place clean--that's all I have in the house, | |
for I am a widower and never had any family. We live very quietly, | |
sir, the three of us; and we keep a roof over our heads and pay our | |
debts, if we do nothing more. | |
"The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, | |
he came down into the office just this day eight weeks, with this | |
very paper in his hand, and he says: | |
"'I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.' | |
"'Why that?' I asks. | |
"'Why,' says he, 'here's another vacancy on the League of the | |
Red-headed Men. It's worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets | |
it, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there are | |
men, so that the trustees are at their wits' end what to do with the | |
money. If my hair would only change colour, here's a nice little crib | |
all ready for me to step into.' | |
"'Why, what is it, then?' I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a very | |
stay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of my having | |
to go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over | |
the door-mat. In that way I didn't know much of what was going on | |
outside, and I was always glad of a bit of news. | |
"'Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?' he asked | |
with his eyes open. | |
"'Never.' | |
"'Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one of the | |
vacancies.' | |
"'And what are they worth?' I asked. | |
"'Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, and | |
it need not interfere very much with one's other occupations.' | |
"Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, for | |
the business has not been over-good for some years, and an extra | |
couple of hundred would have been very handy. | |
"'Tell me all about it,' said I. | |
"'Well,' said he, showing me the advertisement, 'you can see for | |
yourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the address | |
where you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, the | |
League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins, who | |
was very peculiar in his ways. He was himself red-headed, and he had | |
a great sympathy for all red-headed men; so when he died it was found | |
that he had left his enormous fortune in the hands of trustees, with | |
instructions to apply the interest to the providing of easy berths to | |
men whose hair is of that colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay | |
and very little to do.' | |
"'But,' said I, 'there would be millions of red-headed men who would | |
apply.' | |
"'Not so many as you might think,' he answered. 'You see it is really | |
confined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had started | |
from London when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a | |
good turn. Then, again, I have heard it is no use your applying if | |
your hair is light red, or dark red, or anything but real bright, | |
blazing, fiery red. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. Wilson, you would | |
just walk in; but perhaps it would hardly be worth your while to put | |
yourself out of the way for the sake of a few hundred pounds.' | |
"Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, that my | |
hair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to me that if | |
there was to be any competition in the matter I stood as good a | |
chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to | |
know so much about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just | |
ordered him to put up the shutters for the day and to come right away | |
with me. He was very willing to have a holiday, so we shut the | |
business up and started off for the address that was given us in the | |
advertisement. | |
"I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. From | |
north, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in his | |
hair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. Fleet | |
Street was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope's Court looked like | |
a coster's orange barrow. I should not have thought there were so | |
many in the whole country as were brought together by that single | |
advertisement. Every shade of colour they were--straw, lemon, orange, | |
brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there were | |
not many who had the real vivid flame-coloured tint. When I saw how | |
many were waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding | |
would not hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he | |
pushed and pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and | |
right up to the steps which led to the office. There was a double | |
stream upon the stair, some going up in hope, and some coming back | |
dejected; but we wedged in as well as we could and soon found | |
ourselves in the office." | |
"Your experience has been a most entertaining one," remarked Holmes | |
as his client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge pinch of | |
snuff. "Pray continue your very interesting statement." | |
"There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a | |
deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that was even | |
redder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he came | |
up, and then he always managed to find some fault in them which would | |
disqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such a very | |
easy matter, after all. However, when our turn came the little man | |
was much more favourable to me than to any of the others, and he | |
closed the door as we entered, so that he might have a private word | |
with us. | |
"'This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,' said my assistant, 'and he is willing to | |
fill a vacancy in the League.' | |
"'And he is admirably suited for it,' the other answered. 'He has | |
every requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so | |
fine.' He took a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and | |
gazed at my hair until I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged | |
forward, wrung my hand, and congratulated me warmly on my success. | |
"'It would be injustice to hesitate,' said he. 'You will, however, I | |
am sure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.' With that he | |
seized my hair in both his hands, and tugged until I yelled with the | |
pain. 'There is water in your eyes,' said he as he released me. 'I | |
perceive that all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for | |
we have twice been deceived by wigs and once by paint. I could tell | |
you tales of cobbler's wax which would disgust you with human | |
nature.' He stepped over to the window and shouted through it at the | |
top of his voice that the vacancy was filled. A groan of | |
disappointment came up from below, and the folk all trooped away in | |
different directions until there was not a red-head to be seen except | |
my own and that of the manager. | |
"'My name,' said he, 'is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of the | |
pensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are you a | |
married man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?' | |
"I answered that I had not. | |
"His face fell immediately. | |
"'Dear me!' he said gravely, 'that is very serious indeed! I am sorry | |
to hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the propagation | |
and spread of the red-heads as well as for their maintenance. It is | |
exceedingly unfortunate that you should be a bachelor.' | |
"My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was not | |
to have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for a few | |
minutes he said that it would be all right. | |
"'In the case of another,' said he, 'the objection might be fatal, | |
but we must stretch a point in favour of a man with such a head of | |
hair as yours. When shall you be able to enter upon your new duties?' | |
"'Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,' said | |
I. | |
"'Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!' said Vincent Spaulding. 'I | |
should be able to look after that for you.' | |
"'What would be the hours?' I asked. | |
"'Ten to two.' | |
"Now a pawnbroker's business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. | |
Holmes, especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before | |
pay-day; so it would suit me very well to earn a little in the | |
mornings. Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that | |
he would see to anything that turned up. | |
"'That would suit me very well,' said I. 'And the pay?' | |
"'Is ÂŁ4 a week.' | |
"'And the work?' | |
"'Is purely nominal.' | |
"'What do you call purely nominal?' | |
"'Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building, | |
the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole position | |
forever. The will is very clear upon that point. You don't comply | |
with the conditions if you budge from the office during that time.' | |
"'It's only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,' | |
said I. | |
"'No excuse will avail,' said Mr. Duncan Ross; 'neither sickness nor | |
business nor anything else. There you must stay, or you lose your | |
billet.' | |
"'And the work?' | |
"'Is to copy out the "Encyclopaedia Britannica." There is the first | |
volume of it in that press. You must find your own ink, pens, and | |
blotting-paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be | |
ready to-morrow?' | |
"'Certainly,' I answered. | |
"'Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you once | |
more on the important position which you have been fortunate enough | |
to gain.' He bowed me out of the room and I went home with my | |
assistant, hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased at my | |
own good fortune. | |
"Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in low | |
spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that the whole affair | |
must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its object might be I | |
could not imagine. It seemed altogether past belief that anyone could | |
make such a will, or that they would pay such a sum for doing | |
anything so simple as copying out the 'Encyclopaedia Britannica.' | |
Vincent Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up, but by bedtime I | |
had reasoned myself out of the whole thing. However, in the morning I | |
determined to have a look at it anyhow, so I bought a penny bottle of | |
ink, and with a quill-pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, I | |
started off for Pope's Court. | |
"Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as | |
possible. The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was | |
there to see that I got fairly to work. He started me off upon the | |
letter A, and then he left me; but he would drop in from time to time | |
to see that all was right with me. At two o'clock he bade me | |
good-day, complimented me upon the amount that I had written, and | |
locked the door of the office after me. | |
"This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the manager | |
came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my week's work. | |
It was the same next week, and the same the week after. Every morning | |
I was there at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. By degrees Mr. | |
Duncan Ross took to coming in only once of a morning, and then, after | |
a time, he did not come in at all. Still, of course, I never dared to | |
leave the room for an instant, for I was not sure when he might come, | |
and the billet was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I | |
would not risk the loss of it. | |
"Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about Abbots | |
and Archery and Armour and Architecture and Attica, and hoped with | |
diligence that I might get on to the B's before very long. It cost me | |
something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly filled a shelf with my | |
writings. And then suddenly the whole business came to an end." | |
"To an end?" | |
"Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work as usual | |
at ten o'clock, but the door was shut and locked, with a little | |
square of cardboard hammered on to the middle of the panel with a | |
tack. Here it is, and you can read for yourself." | |
He held up a piece of white cardboard about the size of a sheet of | |
note-paper. It read in this fashion: | |
The Red-headed League | |
is | |
Dissolved | |
October 9, 1890. | |
Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the rueful | |
face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completely | |
overtopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a | |
roar of laughter. | |
"I cannot see that there is anything very funny," cried our client, | |
flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. "If you can do nothing | |
better than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere." | |
"No, no," cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from which he | |
had half risen. "I really wouldn't miss your case for the world. It | |
is most refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you will excuse my | |
saying so, something just a little funny about it. Pray what steps | |
did you take when you found the card upon the door?" | |
"I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called at | |
the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about it. | |
Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the | |
ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of | |
the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of any such | |
body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that the | |
name was new to him. | |
"'Well,' said I, 'the gentleman at No. 4.' | |
"'What, the red-headed man?' | |
"'Yes.' | |
"'Oh,' said he, 'his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor and | |
was using my room as a temporary convenience until his new premises | |
were ready. He moved out yesterday.' | |
"'Where could I find him?' | |
"'Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17 King | |
Edward Street, near St. Paul's.' | |
"I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was a | |
manufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had ever heard | |
of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross." | |
"And what did you do then?" asked Holmes. | |
"I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my | |
assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say | |
that if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good | |
enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place without a | |
struggle, so, as I had heard that you were good enough to give advice | |
to poor folk who were in need of it, I came right away to you." | |
"And you did very wisely," said Holmes. "Your case is an exceedingly | |
remarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. From what you | |
have told me I think that it is possible that graver issues hang from | |
it than might at first sight appear." | |
"Grave enough!" said Mr. Jabez Wilson. "Why, I have lost four pound a | |
week." | |
"As far as you are personally concerned," remarked Holmes, "I do not | |
see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary league. On | |
the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some ÂŁ30, to say | |
nothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every | |
subject which comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing by | |
them." | |
"No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and | |
what their object was in playing this prank--if it was a prank--upon | |
me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them two and | |
thirty pounds." | |
"We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, one | |
or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first | |
called your attention to the advertisement--how long had he been with | |
you?" | |
"About a month then." | |
"How did he come?" | |
"In answer to an advertisement." | |
"Was he the only applicant?" | |
"No, I had a dozen." | |
"Why did you pick him?" | |
"Because he was handy and would come cheap." | |
"At half-wages, in fact." | |
"Yes." | |
"What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?" | |
"Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face, | |
though he's not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon his | |
forehead." | |
Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. "I thought as | |
much," said he. "Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced for | |
earrings?" | |
"Yes, sir. He told me that a gipsy had done it for him when he was a | |
lad." | |
"Hum!" said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. "He is still with | |
you?" | |
"Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him." | |
"And has your business been attended to in your absence?" | |
"Nothing to complain of, sir. There's never very much to do of a | |
morning." | |
"That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion | |
upon the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, | |
and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion." | |
"Well, Watson," said Holmes when our visitor had left us, "what do | |
you make of it all?" | |
"I make nothing of it," I answered frankly. "It is a most mysterious | |
business." | |
"As a rule," said Holmes, "the more bizarre a thing is the less | |
mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless | |
crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the | |
most difficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter." | |
"What are you going to do, then?" I asked. | |
"To smoke," he answered. "It is quite a three pipe problem, and I beg | |
that you won't speak to me for fifty minutes." He curled himself up | |
in his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his hawk-like nose, and | |
there he sat with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting | |
out like the bill of some strange bird. I had come to the conclusion | |
that he had dropped asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he | |
suddenly sprang out of his chair with the gesture of a man who has | |
made up his mind and put his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. | |
"Sarasate plays at the St. James's Hall this afternoon," he remarked. | |
"What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a few | |
hours?" | |
"I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing." | |
"Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first, | |
and we can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is a good | |
deal of German music on the programme, which is rather more to my | |
taste than Italian or French. It is introspective, and I want to | |
introspect. Come along!" | |
We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short | |
walk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story | |
which we had listened to in the morning. It was a poky, little, | |
shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick | |
houses looked out into a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of | |
weedy grass and a few clumps of faded laurel-bushes made a hard fight | |
against a smoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls | |
and a brown board with "Jabez Wilson" in white letters, upon a corner | |
house, announced the place where our red-headed client carried on his | |
business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one | |
side and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly between | |
puckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down | |
again to the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally he | |
returned to the pawnbroker's, and, having thumped vigorously upon the | |
pavement with his stick two or three times, he went up to the door | |
and knocked. It was instantly opened by a bright-looking, | |
clean-shaven young fellow, who asked him to step in. | |
"Thank you," said Holmes, "I only wished to ask you how you would go | |
from here to the Strand." | |
"Third right, fourth left," answered the assistant promptly, closing | |
the door. | |
"Smart fellow, that," observed Holmes as we walked away. "He is, in | |
my judgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am | |
not sure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something | |
of him before." | |
"Evidently," said I, "Mr. Wilson's assistant counts for a good deal | |
in this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you inquired | |
your way merely in order that you might see him." | |
"Not him." | |
"What then?" | |
"The knees of his trousers." | |
"And what did you see?" | |
"What I expected to see." | |
"Why did you beat the pavement?" | |
"My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We are | |
spies in an enemy's country. We know something of Saxe-Coburg Square. | |
Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it." | |
The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the corner | |
from the retired Saxe-Coburg Square presented as great a contrast to | |
it as the front of a picture does to the back. It was one of the main | |
arteries which conveyed the traffic of the City to the north and | |
west. The roadway was blocked with the immense stream of commerce | |
flowing in a double tide inward and outward, while the footpaths were | |
black with the hurrying swarm of pedestrians. It was difficult to | |
realise as we looked at the line of fine shops and stately business | |
premises that they really abutted on the other side upon the faded | |
and stagnant square which we had just quitted. | |
"Let me see," said Holmes, standing at the corner and glancing along | |
the line, "I should like just to remember the order of the houses | |
here. It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of London. | |
There is Mortimer's, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the | |
Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian | |
Restaurant, and McFarlane's carriage-building depot. That carries us | |
right on to the other block. And now, Doctor, we've done our work, so | |
it's time we had some play. A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then | |
off to violin-land, where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony, | |
and there are no red-headed clients to vex us with their conundrums." | |
My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only a very | |
capable performer but a composer of no ordinary merit. All the | |
afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness, | |
gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while his | |
gently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those | |
of Holmes the sleuth-hound, Holmes the relentless, keen-witted, | |
ready-handed criminal agent, as it was possible to conceive. In his | |
singular character the dual nature alternately asserted itself, and | |
his extreme exactness and astuteness represented, as I have often | |
thought, the reaction against the poetic and contemplative mood which | |
occasionally predominated in him. The swing of his nature took him | |
from extreme languor to devouring energy; and, as I knew well, he was | |
never so truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been | |
lounging in his armchair amid his improvisations and his black-letter | |
editions. Then it was that the lust of the chase would suddenly come | |
upon him, and that his brilliant reasoning power would rise to the | |
level of intuition, until those who were unacquainted with his | |
methods would look askance at him as on a man whose knowledge was not | |
that of other mortals. When I saw him that afternoon so enwrapped in | |
the music at St. James's Hall I felt that an evil time might be | |
coming upon those whom he had set himself to hunt down. | |
"You want to go home, no doubt, Doctor," he remarked as we emerged. | |
"Yes, it would be as well." | |
"And I have some business to do which will take some hours. This | |
business at Coburg Square is serious." | |
"Why serious?" | |
"A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason to | |
believe that we shall be in time to stop it. But to-day being | |
Saturday rather complicates matters. I shall want your help | |
to-night." | |
"At what time?" | |
"Ten will be early enough." | |
"I shall be at Baker Street at ten." | |
"Very well. And, I say, Doctor, there may be some little danger, so | |
kindly put your army revolver in your pocket." He waved his hand, | |
turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the crowd. | |
I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbours, but I was always | |
oppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings with | |
Sherlock Holmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what | |
he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw | |
clearly not only what had happened but what was about to happen, | |
while to me the whole business was still confused and grotesque. As I | |
drove home to my house in Kensington I thought over it all, from the | |
extraordinary story of the red-headed copier of the "Encyclopaedia" | |
down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous words with | |
which he had parted from me. What was this nocturnal expedition, and | |
why should I go armed? Where were we going, and what were we to do? | |
I had the hint from Holmes that this smooth-faced pawnbroker's | |
assistant was a formidable man--a man who might play a deep game. I | |
tried to puzzle it out, but gave it up in despair and set the matter | |
aside until night should bring an explanation. | |
It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my way | |
across the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Two | |
hansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered the passage I | |
heard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room I found | |
Holmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom I | |
recognised as Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other | |
was a long, thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and | |
oppressively respectable frock-coat. | |
"Ha! Our party is complete," said Holmes, buttoning up his pea-jacket | |
and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. "Watson, I think you | |
know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr. | |
Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night's adventure." | |
"We're hunting in couples again, Doctor, you see," said Jones in his | |
consequential way. "Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting a | |
chase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running | |
down." | |
"I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase," | |
observed Mr. Merryweather gloomily. | |
"You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir," said the | |
police agent loftily. "He has his own little methods, which are, if | |
he won't mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical and | |
fantastic, but he has the makings of a detective in him. It is not | |
too much to say that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto | |
murder and the Agra treasure, he has been more nearly correct than | |
the official force." | |
"Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right," said the stranger | |
with deference. "Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is the | |
first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had | |
my rubber." | |
"I think you will find," said Sherlock Holmes, "that you will play | |
for a higher stake to-night than you have ever done yet, and that the | |
play will be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake will | |
be some ÂŁ30,000; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you | |
wish to lay your hands." | |
"John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He's a young | |
man, Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I | |
would rather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. | |
He's a remarkable man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a | |
royal duke, and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford. His brain is | |
as cunning as his fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every | |
turn, we never know where to find the man himself. He'll crack a crib | |
in Scotland one week, and be raising money to build an orphanage in | |
Cornwall the next. I've been on his track for years and have never | |
set eyes on him yet." | |
"I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to-night. | |
I've had one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I agree | |
with you that he is at the head of his profession. It is past ten, | |
however, and quite time that we started. If you two will take the | |
first hansom, Watson and I will follow in the second." | |
Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive and | |
lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in the | |
afternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit streets | |
until we emerged into Farrington Street. | |
"We are close there now," my friend remarked. "This fellow | |
Merryweather is a bank director, and personally interested in the | |
matter. I thought it as well to have Jones with us also. He is not a | |
bad fellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one | |
positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog and as tenacious as a | |
lobster if he gets his claws upon anyone. Here we are, and they are | |
waiting for us." | |
We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had found | |
ourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, following the | |
guidance of Mr. Merryweather, we passed down a narrow passage and | |
through a side door, which he opened for us. Within there was a small | |
corridor, which ended in a very massive iron gate. This also was | |
opened, and led down a flight of winding stone steps, which | |
terminated at another formidable gate. Mr. Merryweather stopped to | |
light a lantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smelling | |
passage, and so, after opening a third door, into a huge vault or | |
cellar, which was piled all round with crates and massive boxes. | |
"You are not very vulnerable from above," Holmes remarked as he held | |
up the lantern and gazed about him. | |
"Nor from below," said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon the | |
flags which lined the floor. "Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow!" | |
he remarked, looking up in surprise. | |
"I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!" said Holmes | |
severely. "You have already imperilled the whole success of our | |
expedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit down | |
upon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?" | |
The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a very | |
injured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his knees | |
upon the floor and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens, began to | |
examine minutely the cracks between the stones. A few seconds | |
sufficed to satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again and put his | |
glass in his pocket. | |
"We have at least an hour before us," he remarked, "for they can | |
hardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed. | |
Then they will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their work | |
the longer time they will have for their escape. We are at present, | |
Doctor--as no doubt you have divined--in the cellar of the City | |
branch of one of the principal London banks. Mr. Merryweather is the | |
chairman of directors, and he will explain to you that there are | |
reasons why the more daring criminals of London should take a | |
considerable interest in this cellar at present." | |
"It is our French gold," whispered the director. "We have had several | |
warnings that an attempt might be made upon it." | |
"Your French gold?" | |
"Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources and | |
borrowed for that purpose 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France. | |
It has become known that we have never had occasion to unpack the | |
money, and that it is still lying in our cellar. The crate upon which | |
I sit contains 2,000 napoleons packed between layers of lead foil. | |
Our reserve of bullion is much larger at present than is usually kept | |
in a single branch office, and the directors have had misgivings upon | |
the subject." | |
"Which were very well justified," observed Holmes. "And now it is | |
time that we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an hour | |
matters will come to a head. In the meantime Mr. Merryweather, we | |
must put the screen over that dark lantern." | |
"And sit in the dark?" | |
"I am afraid so. I had brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and I | |
thought that, as we were a partie carrée, you might have your rubber | |
after all. But I see that the enemy's preparations have gone so far | |
that we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, first of all, we | |
must choose our positions. These are daring men, and though we shall | |
take them at a disadvantage, they may do us some harm unless we are | |
careful. I shall stand behind this crate, and do you conceal | |
yourselves behind those. Then, when I flash a light upon them, close | |
in swiftly. If they fire, Watson, have no compunction about shooting | |
them down." | |
I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behind | |
which I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of his | |
lantern and left us in pitch darkness--such an absolute darkness as I | |
have never before experienced. The smell of hot metal remained to | |
assure us that the light was still there, ready to flash out at a | |
moment's notice. To me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch of | |
expectancy, there was something depressing and subduing in the sudden | |
gloom, and in the cold dank air of the vault. | |
"They have but one retreat," whispered Holmes. "That is back through | |
the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have done what I | |
asked you, Jones?" | |
"I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door." | |
"Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent and | |
wait." | |
What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but an | |
hour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must have | |
almost gone and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary | |
and stiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my nerves were | |
worked up to the highest pitch of tension, and my hearing was so | |
acute that I could not only hear the gentle breathing of my | |
companions, but I could distinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of | |
the bulky Jones from the thin, sighing note of the bank director. | |
From my position I could look over the case in the direction of the | |
floor. Suddenly my eyes caught the glint of a light. | |
At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it | |
lengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without any | |
warning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared, a white, | |
almost womanly hand, which felt about in the centre of the little | |
area of light. For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing | |
fingers, protruded out of the floor. Then it was withdrawn as | |
suddenly as it appeared, and all was dark again save the single lurid | |
spark which marked a chink between the stones. | |
Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, | |
tearing sound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its | |
side and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light | |
of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, boyish face, | |
which looked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of | |
the aperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one | |
knee rested upon the edge. In another instant he stood at the side of | |
the hole and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small like | |
himself, with a pale face and a shock of very red hair. | |
"It's all clear," he whispered. "Have you the chisel and the bags? | |
Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I'll swing for it!" | |
Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar. | |
The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of rending cloth | |
as Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrel of | |
a revolver, but Holmes' hunting crop came down on the man's wrist, | |
and the pistol clinked upon the stone floor. | |
"It's no use, John Clay," said Holmes blandly. "You have no chance at | |
all." | |
"So I see," the other answered with the utmost coolness. "I fancy | |
that my pal is all right, though I see you have got his coat-tails." | |
"There are three men waiting for him at the door," said Holmes. | |
"Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing very completely. I must | |
compliment you." | |
"And I you," Holmes answered. "Your red-headed idea was very new and | |
effective." | |
"You'll see your pal again presently," said Jones. "He's quicker at | |
climbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the | |
derbies." | |
"I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands," remarked | |
our prisoner as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. "You may not | |
be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness, | |
also, when you address me always to say 'sir' and 'please.'" | |
"All right," said Jones with a stare and a snigger. "Well, would you | |
please, sir, march upstairs, where we can get a cab to carry your | |
Highness to the police-station?" | |
"That is better," said John Clay serenely. He made a sweeping bow to | |
the three of us and walked quietly off in the custody of the | |
detective. | |
"Really, Mr. Holmes," said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them from | |
the cellar, "I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you. | |
There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated in the most | |
complete manner one of the most determined attempts at bank robbery | |
that have ever come within my experience." | |
"I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr. | |
John Clay," said Holmes. "I have been at some small expense over this | |
matter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond that I am | |
amply repaid by having had an experience which is in many ways | |
unique, and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of the | |
Red-headed League." | |
"You see, Watson," he explained in the early hours of the morning as | |
we sat over a glass of whisky and soda in Baker Street, "it was | |
perfectly obvious from the first that the only possible object of | |
this rather fantastic business of the advertisement of the League, | |
and the copying of the 'Encyclopaedia,' must be to get this not | |
over-bright pawnbroker out of the way for a number of hours every | |
day. It was a curious way of managing it, but, really, it would be | |
difficult to suggest a better. The method was no doubt suggested to | |
Clay's ingenious mind by the colour of his accomplice's hair. The ÂŁ4 | |
a week was a lure which must draw him, and what was it to them, who | |
were playing for thousands? They put in the advertisement, one rogue | |
has the temporary office, the other rogue incites the man to apply | |
for it, and together they manage to secure his absence every morning | |
in the week. From the time that I heard of the assistant having come | |
for half wages, it was obvious to me that he had some strong motive | |
for securing the situation." | |
"But how could you guess what the motive was?" | |
"Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a mere | |
vulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question. The man's | |
business was a small one, and there was nothing in his house which | |
could account for such elaborate preparations, and such an | |
expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something out of the | |
house. What could it be? I thought of the assistant's fondness for | |
photography, and his trick of vanishing into the cellar. The cellar! | |
There was the end of this tangled clue. Then I made inquiries as to | |
this mysterious assistant and found that I had to deal with one of | |
the coolest and most daring criminals in London. He was doing | |
something in the cellar--something which took many hours a day for | |
months on end. What could it be, once more? I could think of nothing | |
save that he was running a tunnel to some other building. | |
"So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. I | |
surprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I was | |
ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. It | |
was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the | |
assistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had never | |
set eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his face. His | |
knees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have remarked how | |
worn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of those hours of | |
burrowing. The only remaining point was what they were burrowing for. | |
I walked round the corner, saw the City and Suburban Bank abutted on | |
our friend's premises, and felt that I had solved my problem. When | |
you drove home after the concert I called upon Scotland Yard and upon | |
the chairman of the bank directors, with the result that you have | |
seen." | |
"And how could you tell that they would make their attempt to-night?" | |
I asked. | |
"Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that | |
they cared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson's presence--in other | |
words, that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential | |
that they should use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the | |
bullion might be removed. Saturday would suit them better than any | |
other day, as it would give them two days for their escape. For all | |
these reasons I expected them to come to-night." | |
"You reasoned it out beautifully," I exclaimed in unfeigned | |
admiration. "It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings true." | |
"It saved me from ennui," he answered, yawning. "Alas! I already feel | |
it closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort to escape | |
from the commonplaces of existence. These little problems help me to | |
do so." | |
"And you are a benefactor of the race," said I. | |
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, perhaps, after all, it is of some | |
little use," he remarked. "'L'homme c'est rien--l'oeuvre c'est tout,' | |
as Gustave Flaubert wrote to George Sand." | |
A CASE OF IDENTITY | |
"My dear fellow," said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of | |
the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, "life is infinitely | |
stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would | |
not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of | |
existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover | |
over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the | |
queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the | |
plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, | |
working through generations, and leading to the most outré results, | |
it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen | |
conclusions most stale and unprofitable." | |
"And yet I am not convinced of it," I answered. "The cases which come | |
to light in the papers are, as a rule, bald enough, and vulgar | |
enough. We have in our police reports realism pushed to its extreme | |
limits, and yet the result is, it must be confessed, neither | |
fascinating nor artistic." | |
"A certain selection and discretion must be used in producing a | |
realistic effect," remarked Holmes. "This is wanting in the police | |
report, where more stress is laid, perhaps, upon the platitudes of | |
the magistrate than upon the details, which to an observer contain | |
the vital essence of the whole matter. Depend upon it, there is | |
nothing so unnatural as the commonplace." | |
I smiled and shook my head. "I can quite understand your thinking | |
so." I said. "Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser and | |
helper to everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout three | |
continents, you are brought in contact with all that is strange and | |
bizarre. But here"--I picked up the morning paper from the | |
ground--"let us put it to a practical test. Here is the first heading | |
upon which I come. 'A husband's cruelty to his wife.' There is half a | |
column of print, but I know without reading it that it is all | |
perfectly familiar to me. There is, of course, the other woman, the | |
drink, the push, the blow, the bruise, the sympathetic sister or | |
landlady. The crudest of writers could invent nothing more crude." | |
"Indeed, your example is an unfortunate one for your argument," said | |
Holmes, taking the paper and glancing his eye down it. "This is the | |
Dundas separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged in clearing | |
up some small points in connection with it. The husband was a | |
teetotaler, there was no other woman, and the conduct complained of | |
was that he had drifted into the habit of winding up every meal by | |
taking out his false teeth and hurling them at his wife, which, you | |
will allow, is not an action likely to occur to the imagination of | |
the average story-teller. Take a pinch of snuff, Doctor, and | |
acknowledge that I have scored over you in your example." | |
He held out his snuffbox of old gold, with a great amethyst in the | |
centre of the lid. Its splendour was in such contrast to his homely | |
ways and simple life that I could not help commenting upon it. | |
"Ah," said he, "I forgot that I had not seen you for some weeks. It | |
is a little souvenir from the King of Bohemia in return for my | |
assistance in the case of the Irene Adler papers." | |
"And the ring?" I asked, glancing at a remarkable brilliant which | |
sparkled upon his finger. | |
"It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in | |
which I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it | |
even to you, who have been good enough to chronicle one or two of my | |
little problems." | |
"And have you any on hand just now?" I asked with interest. | |
"Some ten or twelve, but none which present any feature of interest. | |
They are important, you understand, without being interesting. | |
Indeed, I have found that it is usually in unimportant matters that | |
there is a field for the observation, and for the quick analysis of | |
cause and effect which gives the charm to an investigation. The | |
larger crimes are apt to be the simpler, for the bigger the crime the | |
more obvious, as a rule, is the motive. In these cases, save for one | |
rather intricate matter which has been referred to me from | |
Marseilles, there is nothing which presents any features of interest. | |
It is possible, however, that I may have something better before very | |
many minutes are over, for this is one of my clients, or I am much | |
mistaken." | |
He had risen from his chair and was standing between the parted | |
blinds gazing down into the dull neutral-tinted London street. | |
Looking over his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite there | |
stood a large woman with a heavy fur boa round her neck, and a large | |
curling red feather in a broad-brimmed hat which was tilted in a | |
coquettish Duchess of Devonshire fashion over her ear. From under | |
this great panoply she peeped up in a nervous, hesitating fashion at | |
our windows, while her body oscillated backward and forward, and her | |
fingers fidgeted with her glove buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as | |
of the swimmer who leaves the bank, she hurried across the road, and | |
we heard the sharp clang of the bell. | |
"I have seen those symptoms before," said Holmes, throwing his | |
cigarette into the fire. "Oscillation upon the pavement always means | |
an affaire de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure that the | |
matter is not too delicate for communication. And yet even here we | |
may discriminate. When a woman has been seriously wronged by a man | |
she no longer oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell | |
wire. Here we may take it that there is a love matter, but that the | |
maiden is not so much angry as perplexed, or grieved. But here she | |
comes in person to resolve our doubts." | |
As he spoke there was a tap at the door, and the boy in buttons | |
entered to announce Miss Mary Sutherland, while the lady herself | |
loomed behind his small black figure like a full-sailed merchant-man | |
behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed her with the easy | |
courtesy for which he was remarkable, and, having closed the door and | |
bowed her into an armchair, he looked her over in the minute and yet | |
abstracted fashion which was peculiar to him. | |
"Do you not find," he said, "that with your short sight it is a | |
little trying to do so much typewriting?" | |
"I did at first," she answered, "but now I know where the letters are | |
without looking." Then, suddenly realising the full purport of his | |
words, she gave a violent start and looked up, with fear and | |
astonishment upon her broad, good-humoured face. "You've heard about | |
me, Mr. Holmes," she cried, "else how could you know all that?" | |
"Never mind," said Holmes, laughing; "it is my business to know | |
things. Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook. If | |
not, why should you come to consult me?" | |
"I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, whose | |
husband you found so easy when the police and everyone had given him | |
up for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as much for me. I'm | |
not rich, but still I have a hundred a year in my own right, besides | |
the little that I make by the machine, and I would give it all to | |
know what has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel." | |
"Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry?" asked Sherlock | |
Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to the ceiling. | |
Again a startled look came over the somewhat vacuous face of Miss | |
Mary Sutherland. "Yes, I did bang out of the house," she said, "for | |
it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. Windibank--that is, | |
my father--took it all. He would not go to the police, and he would | |
not go to you, and so at last, as he would do nothing and kept on | |
saying that there was no harm done, it made me mad, and I just on | |
with my things and came right away to you." | |
"Your father," said Holmes, "your stepfather, surely, since the name | |
is different." | |
"Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, too, | |
for he is only five years and two months older than myself." | |
"And your mother is alive?" | |
"Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn't best pleased, Mr. | |
Holmes, when she married again so soon after father's death, and a | |
man who was nearly fifteen years younger than herself. Father was a | |
plumber in the Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy business | |
behind him, which mother carried on with Mr. Hardy, the foreman; but | |
when Mr. Windibank came he made her sell the business, for he was | |
very superior, being a traveller in wines. They got ÂŁ4700 for the | |
goodwill and interest, which wasn't near as much as father could have | |
got if he had been alive." | |
I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient under this rambling | |
and inconsequential narrative, but, on the contrary, he had listened | |
with the greatest concentration of attention. | |
"Your own little income," he asked, "does it come out of the | |
business?" | |
"Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me by my uncle Ned in | |
Auckland. It is in New Zealand stock, paying 4½ per cent. Two | |
thousand five hundred pounds was the amount, but I can only touch the | |
interest." | |
"You interest me extremely," said Holmes. "And since you draw so | |
large a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the bargain, | |
you no doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in every way. I | |
believe that a single lady can get on very nicely upon an income of | |
about ÂŁ60." | |
"I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes, but you understand | |
that as long as I live at home I don't wish to be a burden to them, | |
and so they have the use of the money just while I am staying with | |
them. Of course, that is only just for the time. Mr. Windibank draws | |
my interest every quarter and pays it over to mother, and I find that | |
I can do pretty well with what I earn at typewriting. It brings me | |
twopence a sheet, and I can often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in | |
a day." | |
"You have made your position very clear to me," said Holmes. "This is | |
my friend, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before | |
myself. Kindly tell us now all about your connection with Mr. Hosmer | |
Angel." | |
A flush stole over Miss Sutherland's face, and she picked nervously | |
at the fringe of her jacket. "I met him first at the gasfitters' | |
ball," she said. "They used to send father tickets when he was alive, | |
and then afterwards they remembered us, and sent them to mother. Mr. | |
Windibank did not wish us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere. | |
He would get quite mad if I wanted so much as to join a Sunday-school | |
treat. But this time I was set on going, and I would go; for what | |
right had he to prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to | |
know, when all father's friends were to be there. And he said that I | |
had nothing fit to wear, when I had my purple plush that I had never | |
so much as taken out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else would | |
do, he went off to France upon the business of the firm, but we went, | |
mother and I, with Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it was | |
there I met Mr. Hosmer Angel." | |
"I suppose," said Holmes, "that when Mr. Windibank came back from | |
France he was very annoyed at your having gone to the ball." | |
"Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed, I remember, and | |
shrugged his shoulders, and said there was no use denying anything to | |
a woman, for she would have her way." | |
"I see. Then at the gasfitters' ball you met, as I understand, a | |
gentleman called Mr. Hosmer Angel." | |
"Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called next day to ask if we | |
had got home all safe, and after that we met him--that is to say, Mr. | |
Holmes, I met him twice for walks, but after that father came back | |
again, and Mr. Hosmer Angel could not come to the house any more." | |
"No?" | |
"Well, you know father didn't like anything of the sort. He wouldn't | |
have any visitors if he could help it, and he used to say that a | |
woman should be happy in her own family circle. But then, as I used | |
to say to mother, a woman wants her own circle to begin with, and I | |
had not got mine yet." | |
"But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel? Did he make no attempt to see you?" | |
"Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer | |
wrote and said that it would be safer and better not to see each | |
other until he had gone. We could write in the meantime, and he used | |
to write every day. I took the letters in in the morning, so there | |
was no need for father to know." | |
"Were you engaged to the gentleman at this time?" | |
"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after the first walk that we | |
took. Hosmer--Mr. Angel--was a cashier in an office in Leadenhall | |
Street--and--" | |
"What office?" | |
"That's the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don't know." | |
"Where did he live, then?" | |
"He slept on the premises." | |
"And you don't know his address?" | |
"No--except that it was Leadenhall Street." | |
"Where did you address your letters, then?" | |
"To the Leadenhall Street Post Office, to be left till called for. He | |
said that if they were sent to the office he would be chaffed by all | |
the other clerks about having letters from a lady, so I offered to | |
typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn't have that, for he | |
said that when I wrote them they seemed to come from me, but when | |
they were typewritten he always felt that the machine had come | |
between us. That will just show you how fond he was of me, Mr. | |
Holmes, and the little things that he would think of." | |
"It was most suggestive," said Holmes. "It has long been an axiom of | |
mine that the little things are infinitely the most important. Can | |
you remember any other little things about Mr. Hosmer Angel?" | |
"He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would rather walk with me in | |
the evening than in the daylight, for he said that he hated to be | |
conspicuous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even his voice was | |
gentle. He'd had the quinsy and swollen glands when he was young, he | |
told me, and it had left him with a weak throat, and a hesitating, | |
whispering fashion of speech. He was always well dressed, very neat | |
and plain, but his eyes were weak, just as mine are, and he wore | |
tinted glasses against the glare." | |
"Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank, your stepfather, | |
returned to France?" | |
"Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again and proposed that we should | |
marry before father came back. He was in dreadful earnest and made me | |
swear, with my hands on the Testament, that whatever happened I would | |
always be true to him. Mother said he was quite right to make me | |
swear, and that it was a sign of his passion. Mother was all in his | |
favour from the first and was even fonder of him than I was. Then, | |
when they talked of marrying within the week, I began to ask about | |
father; but they both said never to mind about father, but just to | |
tell him afterwards, and mother said she would make it all right with | |
him. I didn't quite like that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that I | |
should ask his leave, as he was only a few years older than me; but I | |
didn't want to do anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at | |
Bordeaux, where the company has its French offices, but the letter | |
came back to me on the very morning of the wedding." | |
"It missed him, then?" | |
"Yes, sir; for he had started to England just before it arrived." | |
"Ha! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged, then, for the | |
Friday. Was it to be in church?" | |
"Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St. Saviour's, near | |
King's Cross, and we were to have breakfast afterwards at the St. | |
Pancras Hotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were two | |
of us he put us both into it and stepped himself into a four-wheeler, | |
which happened to be the only other cab in the street. We got to the | |
church first, and when the four-wheeler drove up we waited for him to | |
step out, but he never did, and when the cabman got down from the box | |
and looked there was no one there! The cabman said that he could not | |
imagine what had become of him, for he had seen him get in with his | |
own eyes. That was last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or | |
heard anything since then to throw any light upon what became of | |
him." | |
"It seems to me that you have been very shamefully treated," said | |
Holmes. | |
"Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave me so. Why, all the | |
morning he was saying to me that, whatever happened, I was to be | |
true; and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to | |
separate us, I was always to remember that I was pledged to him, and | |
that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. It seemed strange | |
talk for a wedding-morning, but what has happened since gives a | |
meaning to it." | |
"Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is, then, that some | |
unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?" | |
"Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger, or else he would | |
not have talked so. And then I think that what he foresaw happened." | |
"But you have no notion as to what it could have been?" | |
"None." | |
"One more question. How did your mother take the matter?" | |
"She was angry, and said that I was never to speak of the matter | |
again." | |
"And your father? Did you tell him?" | |
"Yes; and he seemed to think, with me, that something had happened, | |
and that I should hear of Hosmer again. As he said, what interest | |
could anyone have in bringing me to the doors of the church, and then | |
leaving me? Now, if he had borrowed my money, or if he had married me | |
and got my money settled on him, there might be some reason, but | |
Hosmer was very independent about money and never would look at a | |
shilling of mine. And yet, what could have happened? And why could he | |
not write? Oh, it drives me half-mad to think of it, and I can't | |
sleep a wink at night." She pulled a little handkerchief out of her | |
muff and began to sob heavily into it. | |
"I shall glance into the case for you," said Holmes, rising, "and I | |
have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. Let the | |
weight of the matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind dwell | |
upon it further. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel vanish from | |
your memory, as he has done from your life." | |
"Then you don't think I'll see him again?" | |
"I fear not." | |
"Then what has happened to him?" | |
"You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an accurate | |
description of him and any letters of his which you can spare." | |
"I advertised for him in last Saturday's Chronicle," said she. "Here | |
is the slip and here are four letters from him." | |
"Thank you. And your address?" | |
"No. 31 Lyon Place, Camberwell." | |
"Mr. Angel's address you never had, I understand. Where is your | |
father's place of business?" | |
"He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great claret importers of | |
Fenchurch Street." | |
"Thank you. You have made your statement very clearly. You will leave | |
the papers here, and remember the advice which I have given you. Let | |
the whole incident be a sealed book, and do not allow it to affect | |
your life." | |
"You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot do that. I shall be true | |
to Hosmer. He shall find me ready when he comes back." | |
For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face, there was | |
something noble in the simple faith of our visitor which compelled | |
our respect. She laid her little bundle of papers upon the table and | |
went her way, with a promise to come again whenever she might be | |
summoned. | |
Sherlock Holmes sat silent for a few minutes with his fingertips | |
still pressed together, his legs stretched out in front of him, and | |
his gaze directed upward to the ceiling. Then he took down from the | |
rack the old and oily clay pipe, which was to him as a counsellor, | |
and, having lit it, he leaned back in his chair, with the thick blue | |
cloud-wreaths spinning up from him, and a look of infinite languor in | |
his face. | |
"Quite an interesting study, that maiden," he observed. "I found her | |
more interesting than her little problem, which, by the way, is | |
rather a trite one. You will find parallel cases, if you consult my | |
index, in Andover in '77, and there was something of the sort at The | |
Hague last year. Old as is the idea, however, there were one or two | |
details which were new to me. But the maiden herself was most | |
instructive." | |
"You appeared to read a good deal upon her which was quite invisible | |
to me," I remarked. | |
"Not invisible but unnoticed, Watson. You did not know where to look, | |
and so you missed all that was important. I can never bring you to | |
realise the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness of thumb-nails, | |
or the great issues that may hang from a boot-lace. Now, what did you | |
gather from that woman's appearance? Describe it." | |
"Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed straw hat, with a | |
feather of a brickish red. Her jacket was black, with black beads | |
sewn upon it, and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Her dress | |
was brown, rather darker than coffee colour, with a little purple | |
plush at the neck and sleeves. Her gloves were greyish and were worn | |
through at the right forefinger. Her boots I didn't observe. She had | |
small round, hanging gold earrings, and a general air of being fairly | |
well-to-do in a vulgar, comfortable, easy-going way." | |
Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together and chuckled. | |
"'Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. You have | |
really done very well indeed. It is true that you have missed | |
everything of importance, but you have hit upon the method, and you | |
have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to general impressions, my | |
boy, but concentrate yourself upon details. My first glance is always | |
at a woman's sleeve. In a man it is perhaps better first to take the | |
knee of the trouser. As you observe, this woman had plush upon her | |
sleeves, which is a most useful material for showing traces. The | |
double line a little above the wrist, where the typewritist presses | |
against the table, was beautifully defined. The sewing-machine, of | |
the hand type, leaves a similar mark, but only on the left arm, and | |
on the side of it farthest from the thumb, instead of being right | |
across the broadest part, as this was. I then glanced at her face, | |
and, observing the dint of a pince-nez at either side of her nose, I | |
ventured a remark upon short sight and typewriting, which seemed to | |
surprise her." | |
"It surprised me." | |
"But, surely, it was obvious. I was then much surprised and | |
interested on glancing down to observe that, though the boots which | |
she was wearing were not unlike each other, they were really odd | |
ones; the one having a slightly decorated toe-cap, and the other a | |
plain one. One was buttoned only in the two lower buttons out of | |
five, and the other at the first, third, and fifth. Now, when you see | |
that a young lady, otherwise neatly dressed, has come away from home | |
with odd boots, half-buttoned, it is no great deduction to say that | |
she came away in a hurry." | |
"And what else?" I asked, keenly interested, as I always was, by my | |
friend's incisive reasoning. | |
"I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leaving home | |
but after being fully dressed. You observed that her right glove was | |
torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently see that both | |
glove and finger were stained with violet ink. She had written in a | |
hurry and dipped her pen too deep. It must have been this morning, or | |
the mark would not remain clear upon the finger. All this is amusing, | |
though rather elementary, but I must go back to business, Watson. | |
Would you mind reading me the advertised description of Mr. Hosmer | |
Angel?" | |
I held the little printed slip to the light. | |
"Missing," it said, "on the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman | |
named Hosmer Angel. About five ft. seven in. in height; strongly | |
built, sallow complexion, black hair, a little bald in the centre, | |
bushy, black side-whiskers and moustache; tinted glasses, slight | |
infirmity of speech. Was dressed, when last seen, in black frock-coat | |
faced with silk, black waistcoat, gold Albert chain, and grey Harris | |
tweed trousers, with brown gaiters over elastic-sided boots. Known to | |
have been employed in an office in Leadenhall Street. Anybody | |
bringing--" | |
"That will do," said Holmes. "As to the letters," he continued, | |
glancing over them, "they are very commonplace. Absolutely no clue in | |
them to Mr. Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. There is one | |
remarkable point, however, which will no doubt strike you." | |
"They are typewritten," I remarked. | |
"Not only that, but the signature is typewritten. Look at the neat | |
little 'Hosmer Angel' at the bottom. There is a date, you see, but no | |
superscription except Leadenhall Street, which is rather vague. The | |
point about the signature is very suggestive--in fact, we may call it | |
conclusive." | |
"Of what?" | |
"My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how strongly it bears | |
upon the case?" | |
"I cannot say that I do unless it were that he wished to be able to | |
deny his signature if an action for breach of promise were | |
instituted." | |
"No, that was not the point. However, I shall write two letters, | |
which should settle the matter. One is to a firm in the City, the | |
other is to the young lady's stepfather, Mr. Windibank, asking him | |
whether he could meet us here at six o'clock tomorrow evening. It is | |
just as well that we should do business with the male relatives. And | |
now, Doctor, we can do nothing until the answers to those letters | |
come, so we may put our little problem upon the shelf for the | |
interim." | |
I had had so many reasons to believe in my friend's subtle powers of | |
reasoning and extraordinary energy in action that I felt that he must | |
have some solid grounds for the assured and easy demeanour with which | |
he treated the singular mystery which he had been called upon to | |
fathom. Once only had I known him to fail, in the case of the King of | |
Bohemia and of the Irene Adler photograph; but when I looked back to | |
the weird business of the Sign of Four, and the extraordinary | |
circumstances connected with the Study in Scarlet, I felt that it | |
would be a strange tangle indeed which he could not unravel. | |
I left him then, still puffing at his black clay pipe, with the | |
conviction that when I came again on the next evening I would find | |
that he held in his hands all the clues which would lead up to the | |
identity of the disappearing bridegroom of Miss Mary Sutherland. | |
A professional case of great gravity was engaging my own attention at | |
the time, and the whole of next day I was busy at the bedside of the | |
sufferer. It was not until close upon six o'clock that I found myself | |
free and was able to spring into a hansom and drive to Baker Street, | |
half afraid that I might be too late to assist at the dénouement of | |
the little mystery. I found Sherlock Holmes alone, however, half | |
asleep, with his long, thin form curled up in the recesses of his | |
armchair. A formidable array of bottles and test-tubes, with the | |
pungent cleanly smell of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had spent | |
his day in the chemical work which was so dear to him. | |
"Well, have you solved it?" I asked as I entered. | |
"Yes. It was the bisulphate of baryta." | |
"No, no, the mystery!" I cried. | |
"Oh, that! I thought of the salt that I have been working upon. There | |
was never any mystery in the matter, though, as I said yesterday, | |
some of the details are of interest. The only drawback is that there | |
is no law, I fear, that can touch the scoundrel." | |
"Who was he, then, and what was his object in deserting Miss | |
Sutherland?" | |
The question was hardly out of my mouth, and Holmes had not yet | |
opened his lips to reply, when we heard a heavy footfall in the | |
passage and a tap at the door. | |
"This is the girl's stepfather, Mr. James Windibank," said Holmes. | |
"He has written to me to say that he would be here at six. Come in!" | |
The man who entered was a sturdy, middle-sized fellow, some thirty | |
years of age, clean-shaven, and sallow-skinned, with a bland, | |
insinuating manner, and a pair of wonderfully sharp and penetrating | |
grey eyes. He shot a questioning glance at each of us, placed his | |
shiny top-hat upon the sideboard, and with a slight bow sidled down | |
into the nearest chair. | |
"Good-evening, Mr. James Windibank," said Holmes. "I think that this | |
typewritten letter is from you, in which you made an appointment with | |
me for six o'clock?" | |
"Yes, sir. I am afraid that I am a little late, but I am not quite my | |
own master, you know. I am sorry that Miss Sutherland has troubled | |
you about this little matter, for I think it is far better not to | |
wash linen of the sort in public. It was quite against my wishes that | |
she came, but she is a very excitable, impulsive girl, as you may | |
have noticed, and she is not easily controlled when she has made up | |
her mind on a point. Of course, I did not mind you so much, as you | |
are not connected with the official police, but it is not pleasant to | |
have a family misfortune like this noised abroad. Besides, it is a | |
useless expense, for how could you possibly find this Hosmer Angel?" | |
"On the contrary," said Holmes quietly; "I have every reason to | |
believe that I will succeed in discovering Mr. Hosmer Angel." | |
Mr. Windibank gave a violent start and dropped his gloves. "I am | |
delighted to hear it," he said. | |
"It is a curious thing," remarked Holmes, "that a typewriter has | |
really quite as much individuality as a man's handwriting. Unless | |
they are quite new, no two of them write exactly alike. Some letters | |
get more worn than others, and some wear only on one side. Now, you | |
remark in this note of yours, Mr. Windibank, that in every case there | |
is some little slurring over of the 'e,' and a slight defect in the | |
tail of the 'r.' There are fourteen other characteristics, but those | |
are the more obvious." | |
"We do all our correspondence with this machine at the office, and no | |
doubt it is a little worn," our visitor answered, glancing keenly at | |
Holmes with his bright little eyes. | |
"And now I will show you what is really a very interesting study, Mr. | |
Windibank," Holmes continued. "I think of writing another little | |
monograph some of these days on the typewriter and its relation to | |
crime. It is a subject to which I have devoted some little attention. | |
I have here four letters which purport to come from the missing man. | |
They are all typewritten. In each case, not only are the 'e's' | |
slurred and the 'r's' tailless, but you will observe, if you care to | |
use my magnifying lens, that the fourteen other characteristics to | |
which I have alluded are there as well." | |
Mr. Windibank sprang out of his chair and picked up his hat. "I | |
cannot waste time over this sort of fantastic talk, Mr. Holmes," he | |
said. "If you can catch the man, catch him, and let me know when you | |
have done it." | |
"Certainly," said Holmes, stepping over and turning the key in the | |
door. "I let you know, then, that I have caught him!" | |
"What! where?" shouted Mr. Windibank, turning white to his lips and | |
glancing about him like a rat in a trap. | |
"Oh, it won't do--really it won't," said Holmes suavely. "There is no | |
possible getting out of it, Mr. Windibank. It is quite too | |
transparent, and it was a very bad compliment when you said that it | |
was impossible for me to solve so simple a question. That's right! | |
Sit down and let us talk it over." | |
Our visitor collapsed into a chair, with a ghastly face and a glitter | |
of moisture on his brow. "It--it's not actionable," he stammered. | |
"I am very much afraid that it is not. But between ourselves, | |
Windibank, it was as cruel and selfish and heartless a trick in a | |
petty way as ever came before me. Now, let me just run over the | |
course of events, and you will contradict me if I go wrong." | |
The man sat huddled up in his chair, with his head sunk upon his | |
breast, like one who is utterly crushed. Holmes stuck his feet up on | |
the corner of the mantelpiece and, leaning back with his hands in his | |
pockets, began talking, rather to himself, as it seemed, than to us. | |
"The man married a woman very much older than himself for her money," | |
said he, "and he enjoyed the use of the money of the daughter as long | |
as she lived with them. It was a considerable sum, for people in | |
their position, and the loss of it would have made a serious | |
difference. It was worth an effort to preserve it. The daughter was | |
of a good, amiable disposition, but affectionate and warm-hearted in | |
her ways, so that it was evident that with her fair personal | |
advantages, and her little income, she would not be allowed to remain | |
single long. Now her marriage would mean, of course, the loss of a | |
hundred a year, so what does her stepfather do to prevent it? He | |
takes the obvious course of keeping her at home and forbidding her to | |
seek the company of people of her own age. But soon he found that | |
that would not answer forever. She became restive, insisted upon her | |
rights, and finally announced her positive intention of going to a | |
certain ball. What does her clever stepfather do then? He conceives | |
an idea more creditable to his head than to his heart. With the | |
connivance and assistance of his wife he disguised himself, covered | |
those keen eyes with tinted glasses, masked the face with a moustache | |
and a pair of bushy whiskers, sunk that clear voice into an | |
insinuating whisper, and doubly secure on account of the girl's short | |
sight, he appears as Mr. Hosmer Angel, and keeps off other lovers by | |
making love himself." | |
"It was only a joke at first," groaned our visitor. "We never thought | |
that she would have been so carried away." | |
"Very likely not. However that may be, the young lady was very | |
decidedly carried away, and, having quite made up her mind that her | |
stepfather was in France, the suspicion of treachery never for an | |
instant entered her mind. She was flattered by the gentleman's | |
attentions, and the effect was increased by the loudly expressed | |
admiration of her mother. Then Mr. Angel began to call, for it was | |
obvious that the matter should be pushed as far as it would go if a | |
real effect were to be produced. There were meetings, and an | |
engagement, which would finally secure the girl's affections from | |
turning towards anyone else. But the deception could not be kept up | |
forever. These pretended journeys to France were rather cumbrous. The | |
thing to do was clearly to bring the business to an end in such a | |
dramatic manner that it would leave a permanent impression upon the | |
young lady's mind and prevent her from looking upon any other suitor | |
for some time to come. Hence those vows of fidelity exacted upon a | |
Testament, and hence also the allusions to a possibility of something | |
happening on the very morning of the wedding. James Windibank wished | |
Miss Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer Angel, and so uncertain as | |
to his fate, that for ten years to come, at any rate, she would not | |
listen to another man. As far as the church door he brought her, and | |
then, as he could go no farther, he conveniently vanished away by the | |
old trick of stepping in at one door of a four-wheeler and out at the | |
other. I think that was the chain of events, Mr. Windibank!" | |
Our visitor had recovered something of his assurance while Holmes had | |
been talking, and he rose from his chair now with a cold sneer upon | |
his pale face. | |
"It may be so, or it may not, Mr. Holmes," said he, "but if you are | |
so very sharp you ought to be sharp enough to know that it is you who | |
are breaking the law now, and not me. I have done nothing actionable | |
from the first, but as long as you keep that door locked you lay | |
yourself open to an action for assault and illegal constraint." | |
"The law cannot, as you say, touch you," said Holmes, unlocking and | |
throwing open the door, "yet there never was a man who deserved | |
punishment more. If the young lady has a brother or a friend, he | |
ought to lay a whip across your shoulders. By Jove!" he continued, | |
flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man's face, "it | |
is not part of my duties to my client, but here's a hunting crop | |
handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to--" He took two swift | |
steps to the whip, but before he could grasp it there was a wild | |
clatter of steps upon the stairs, the heavy hall door banged, and | |
from the window we could see Mr. James Windibank running at the top | |
of his speed down the road. | |
"There's a cold-blooded scoundrel!" said Holmes, laughing, as he | |
threw himself down into his chair once more. "That fellow will rise | |
from crime to crime until he does something very bad, and ends on a | |
gallows. The case has, in some respects, been not entirely devoid of | |
interest." | |
"I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your reasoning," I | |
remarked. | |
"Well, of course it was obvious from the first that this Mr. Hosmer | |
Angel must have some strong object for his curious conduct, and it | |
was equally clear that the only man who really profited by the | |
incident, as far as we could see, was the stepfather. Then the fact | |
that the two men were never together, but that the one always | |
appeared when the other was away, was suggestive. So were the tinted | |
spectacles and the curious voice, which both hinted at a disguise, as | |
did the bushy whiskers. My suspicions were all confirmed by his | |
peculiar action in typewriting his signature, which, of course, | |
inferred that his handwriting was so familiar to her that she would | |
recognise even the smallest sample of it. You see all these isolated | |
facts, together with many minor ones, all pointed in the same | |
direction." | |
"And how did you verify them?" | |
"Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get corroboration. I knew | |
the firm for which this man worked. Having taken the printed | |
description, I eliminated everything from it which could be the | |
result of a disguise--the whiskers, the glasses, the voice, and I | |
sent it to the firm, with a request that they would inform me whether | |
it answered to the description of any of their travellers. I had | |
already noticed the peculiarities of the typewriter, and I wrote to | |
the man himself at his business address asking him if he would come | |
here. As I expected, his reply was typewritten and revealed the same | |
trivial but characteristic defects. The same post brought me a letter | |
from Westhouse & Marbank, of Fenchurch Street, to say that the | |
description tallied in every respect with that of their employee, | |
James Windibank. VoilĂ tout!" | |
"And Miss Sutherland?" | |
"If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the old | |
Persian saying, 'There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub, | |
and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.' There is | |
as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledge of the | |
world." | |
THE BOSCOMBE VALLEY MYSTERY | |
We were seated at breakfast one morning, my wife and I, when the maid | |
brought in a telegram. It was from Sherlock Holmes and ran in this | |
way: | |
"Have you a couple of days to spare? Have just been wired for from | |
the west of England in connection with Boscombe Valley tragedy. Shall | |
be glad if you will come with me. Air and scenery perfect. Leave | |
Paddington by the 11.15." | |
"What do you say, dear?" said my wife, looking across at me. "Will | |
you go?" | |
"I really don't know what to say. I have a fairly long list at | |
present." | |
"Oh, Anstruther would do your work for you. You have been looking a | |
little pale lately. I think that the change would do you good, and | |
you are always so interested in Mr. Sherlock Holmes' cases." | |
"I should be ungrateful if I were not, seeing what I gained through | |
one of them," I answered. "But if I am to go, I must pack at once, | |
for I have only half an hour." | |
My experience of camp life in Afghanistan had at least had the effect | |
of making me a prompt and ready traveller. My wants were few and | |
simple, so that in less than the time stated I was in a cab with my | |
valise, rattling away to Paddington Station. Sherlock Holmes was | |
pacing up and down the platform, his tall, gaunt figure made even | |
gaunter and taller by his long grey travelling-cloak and | |
close-fitting cloth cap. | |
"It is really very good of you to come, Watson," said he. "It makes a | |
considerable difference to me, having someone with me on whom I can | |
thoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless or else | |
biassed. If you will keep the two corner seats I shall get the | |
tickets." | |
We had the carriage to ourselves save for an immense litter of papers | |
which Holmes had brought with him. Among these he rummaged and read, | |
with intervals of note-taking and of meditation, until we were past | |
Reading. Then he suddenly rolled them all into a gigantic ball and | |
tossed them up onto the rack. | |
"Have you heard anything of the case?" he asked. | |
"Not a word. I have not seen a paper for some days." | |
"The London press has not had very full accounts. I have just been | |
looking through all the recent papers in order to master the | |
particulars. It seems, from what I gather, to be one of those simple | |
cases which are so extremely difficult." | |
"That sounds a little paradoxical." | |
"But it is profoundly true. Singularity is almost invariably a clue. | |
The more featureless and commonplace a crime is, the more difficult | |
it is to bring it home. In this case, however, they have established | |
a very serious case against the son of the murdered man." | |
"It is a murder, then?" | |
"Well, it is conjectured to be so. I shall take nothing for granted | |
until I have the opportunity of looking personally into it. I will | |
explain the state of things to you, as far as I have been able to | |
understand it, in a very few words. | |
"Boscombe Valley is a country district not very far from Ross, in | |
Herefordshire. The largest landed proprietor in that part is a Mr. | |
John Turner, who made his money in Australia and returned some years | |
ago to the old country. One of the farms which he held, that of | |
Hatherley, was let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, who was also an | |
ex-Australian. The men had known each other in the colonies, so that | |
it was not unnatural that when they came to settle down they should | |
do so as near each other as possible. Turner was apparently the | |
richer man, so McCarthy became his tenant but still remained, it | |
seems, upon terms of perfect equality, as they were frequently | |
together. McCarthy had one son, a lad of eighteen, and Turner had an | |
only daughter of the same age, but neither of them had wives living. | |
They appear to have avoided the society of the neighbouring English | |
families and to have led retired lives, though both the McCarthys | |
were fond of sport and were frequently seen at the race-meetings of | |
the neighbourhood. McCarthy kept two servants--a man and a girl. | |
Turner had a considerable household, some half-dozen at the least. | |
That is as much as I have been able to gather about the families. Now | |
for the facts. | |
"On June 3rd, that is, on Monday last, McCarthy left his house at | |
Hatherley about three in the afternoon and walked down to the | |
Boscombe Pool, which is a small lake formed by the spreading out of | |
the stream which runs down the Boscombe Valley. He had been out with | |
his serving-man in the morning at Ross, and he had told the man that | |
he must hurry, as he had an appointment of importance to keep at | |
three. From that appointment he never came back alive. | |
"From Hatherley Farm-house to the Boscombe Pool is a quarter of a | |
mile, and two people saw him as he passed over this ground. One was | |
an old woman, whose name is not mentioned, and the other was William | |
Crowder, a game-keeper in the employ of Mr. Turner. Both these | |
witnesses depose that Mr. McCarthy was walking alone. The game-keeper | |
adds that within a few minutes of his seeing Mr. McCarthy pass he had | |
seen his son, Mr. James McCarthy, going the same way with a gun under | |
his arm. To the best of his belief, the father was actually in sight | |
at the time, and the son was following him. He thought no more of the | |
matter until he heard in the evening of the tragedy that had | |
occurred. | |
"The two McCarthys were seen after the time when William Crowder, the | |
game-keeper, lost sight of them. The Boscombe Pool is thickly wooded | |
round, with just a fringe of grass and of reeds round the edge. A | |
girl of fourteen, Patience Moran, who is the daughter of the | |
lodge-keeper of the Boscombe Valley estate, was in one of the woods | |
picking flowers. She states that while she was there she saw, at the | |
border of the wood and close by the lake, Mr. McCarthy and his son, | |
and that they appeared to be having a violent quarrel. She heard Mr. | |
McCarthy the elder using very strong language to his son, and she saw | |
the latter raise up his hand as if to strike his father. She was so | |
frightened by their violence that she ran away and told her mother | |
when she reached home that she had left the two McCarthys quarrelling | |
near Boscombe Pool, and that she was afraid that they were going to | |
fight. She had hardly said the words when young Mr. McCarthy came | |
running up to the lodge to say that he had found his father dead in | |
the wood, and to ask for the help of the lodge-keeper. He was much | |
excited, without either his gun or his hat, and his right hand and | |
sleeve were observed to be stained with fresh blood. On following him | |
they found the dead body stretched out upon the grass beside the | |
pool. The head had been beaten in by repeated blows of some heavy and | |
blunt weapon. The injuries were such as might very well have been | |
inflicted by the butt-end of his son's gun, which was found lying on | |
the grass within a few paces of the body. Under these circumstances | |
the young man was instantly arrested, and a verdict of 'wilful | |
murder' having been returned at the inquest on Tuesday, he was on | |
Wednesday brought before the magistrates at Ross, who have referred | |
the case to the next Assizes. Those are the main facts of the case as | |
they came out before the coroner and the police-court." | |
"I could hardly imagine a more damning case," I remarked. "If ever | |
circumstantial evidence pointed to a criminal it does so here." | |
"Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing," answered Holmes | |
thoughtfully. "It may seem to point very straight to one thing, but | |
if you shift your own point of view a little, you may find it | |
pointing in an equally uncompromising manner to something entirely | |
different. It must be confessed, however, that the case looks | |
exceedingly grave against the young man, and it is very possible that | |
he is indeed the culprit. There are several people in the | |
neighbourhood, however, and among them Miss Turner, the daughter of | |
the neighbouring landowner, who believe in his innocence, and who | |
have retained Lestrade, whom you may recollect in connection with the | |
Study in Scarlet, to work out the case in his interest. Lestrade, | |
being rather puzzled, has referred the case to me, and hence it is | |
that two middle-aged gentlemen are flying westward at fifty miles an | |
hour instead of quietly digesting their breakfasts at home." | |
"I am afraid," said I, "that the facts are so obvious that you will | |
find little credit to be gained out of this case." | |
"There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact," he answered, | |
laughing. "Besides, we may chance to hit upon some other obvious | |
facts which may have been by no means obvious to Mr. Lestrade. You | |
know me too well to think that I am boasting when I say that I shall | |
either confirm or destroy his theory by means which he is quite | |
incapable of employing, or even of understanding. To take the first | |
example to hand, I very clearly perceive that in your bedroom the | |
window is upon the right-hand side, and yet I question whether Mr. | |
Lestrade would have noted even so self-evident a thing as that." | |
"How on earth--" | |
"My dear fellow, I know you well. I know the military neatness which | |
characterises you. You shave every morning, and in this season you | |
shave by the sunlight; but since your shaving is less and less | |
complete as we get farther back on the left side, until it becomes | |
positively slovenly as we get round the angle of the jaw, it is | |
surely very clear that that side is less illuminated than the other. | |
I could not imagine a man of your habits looking at himself in an | |
equal light and being satisfied with such a result. I only quote this | |
as a trivial example of observation and inference. Therein lies my | |
métier, and it is just possible that it may be of some service in the | |
investigation which lies before us. There are one or two minor points | |
which were brought out in the inquest, and which are worth | |
considering." | |
"What are they?" | |
"It appears that his arrest did not take place at once, but after the | |
return to Hatherley Farm. On the inspector of constabulary informing | |
him that he was a prisoner, he remarked that he was not surprised to | |
hear it, and that it was no more than his deserts. This observation | |
of his had the natural effect of removing any traces of doubt which | |
might have remained in the minds of the coroner's jury." | |
"It was a confession," I ejaculated. | |
"No, for it was followed by a protestation of innocence." | |
"Coming on the top of such a damning series of events, it was at | |
least a most suspicious remark." | |
"On the contrary," said Holmes, "it is the brightest rift which I can | |
at present see in the clouds. However innocent he might be, he could | |
not be such an absolute imbecile as not to see that the circumstances | |
were very black against him. Had he appeared surprised at his own | |
arrest, or feigned indignation at it, I should have looked upon it as | |
highly suspicious, because such surprise or anger would not be | |
natural under the circumstances, and yet might appear to be the best | |
policy to a scheming man. His frank acceptance of the situation marks | |
him as either an innocent man, or else as a man of considerable | |
self-restraint and firmness. As to his remark about his deserts, it | |
was also not unnatural if you consider that he stood beside the dead | |
body of his father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very | |
day so far forgotten his filial duty as to bandy words with him, and | |
even, according to the little girl whose evidence is so important, to | |
raise his hand as if to strike him. The self-reproach and contrition | |
which are displayed in his remark appear to me to be the signs of a | |
healthy mind rather than of a guilty one." | |
I shook my head. "Many men have been hanged on far slighter | |
evidence," I remarked. | |
"So they have. And many men have been wrongfully hanged." | |
"What is the young man's own account of the matter?" | |
"It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, though | |
there are one or two points in it which are suggestive. You will find | |
it here, and may read it for yourself." | |
He picked out from his bundle a copy of the local Herefordshire | |
paper, and having turned down the sheet he pointed out the paragraph | |
in which the unfortunate young man had given his own statement of | |
what had occurred. I settled myself down in the corner of the | |
carriage and read it very carefully. It ran in this way: | |
"Mr. James McCarthy, the only son of the deceased, was then called | |
and gave evidence as follows: 'I had been away from home for three | |
days at Bristol, and had only just returned upon the morning of last | |
Monday, the 3rd. My father was absent from home at the time of my | |
arrival, and I was informed by the maid that he had driven over to | |
Ross with John Cobb, the groom. Shortly after my return I heard the | |
wheels of his trap in the yard, and, looking out of my window, I saw | |
him get out and walk rapidly out of the yard, though I was not aware | |
in which direction he was going. I then took my gun and strolled out | |
in the direction of the Boscombe Pool, with the intention of visiting | |
the rabbit warren which is upon the other side. On my way I saw | |
William Crowder, the game-keeper, as he had stated in his evidence; | |
but he is mistaken in thinking that I was following my father. I had | |
no idea that he was in front of me. When about a hundred yards from | |
the pool I heard a cry of "Cooee!" which was a usual signal between | |
my father and myself. I then hurried forward, and found him standing | |
by the pool. He appeared to be much surprised at seeing me and asked | |
me rather roughly what I was doing there. A conversation ensued which | |
led to high words and almost to blows, for my father was a man of a | |
very violent temper. Seeing that his passion was becoming | |
ungovernable, I left him and returned towards Hatherley Farm. I had | |
not gone more than 150 yards, however, when I heard a hideous outcry | |
behind me, which caused me to run back again. I found my father | |
expiring upon the ground, with his head terribly injured. I dropped | |
my gun and held him in my arms, but he almost instantly expired. I | |
knelt beside him for some minutes, and then made my way to Mr. | |
Turner's lodge-keeper, his house being the nearest, to ask for | |
assistance. I saw no one near my father when I returned, and I have | |
no idea how he came by his injuries. He was not a popular man, being | |
somewhat cold and forbidding in his manners, but he had, as far as I | |
know, no active enemies. I know nothing further of the matter.' | |
"The Coroner: Did your father make any statement to you before he | |
died? | |
"Witness: He mumbled a few words, but I could only catch some | |
allusion to a rat. | |
"The Coroner: What did you understand by that? | |
"Witness: It conveyed no meaning to me. I thought that he was | |
delirious. | |
"The Coroner: What was the point upon which you and your father had | |
this final quarrel? | |
"Witness: I should prefer not to answer. | |
"The Coroner: I am afraid that I must press it. | |
"Witness: It is really impossible for me to tell you. I can assure | |
you that it has nothing to do with the sad tragedy which followed. | |
"The Coroner: That is for the court to decide. I need not point out | |
to you that your refusal to answer will prejudice your case | |
considerably in any future proceedings which may arise. | |
"Witness: I must still refuse. | |
"The Coroner: I understand that the cry of 'Cooee' was a common | |
signal between you and your father? | |
"Witness: It was. | |
"The Coroner: How was it, then, that he uttered it before he saw you, | |
and before he even knew that you had returned from Bristol? | |
"Witness (with considerable confusion): I do not know. | |
"A Juryman: Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions when | |
you returned on hearing the cry and found your father fatally | |
injured? | |
"Witness: Nothing definite. | |
"The Coroner: What do you mean? | |
"Witness: I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into the | |
open, that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet I have a | |
vague impression that as I ran forward something lay upon the ground | |
to the left of me. It seemed to me to be something grey in colour, a | |
coat of some sort, or a plaid perhaps. When I rose from my father I | |
looked round for it, but it was gone. | |
"'Do you mean that it disappeared before you went for help?' | |
"'Yes, it was gone.' | |
"'You cannot say what it was?' | |
"'No, I had a feeling something was there.' | |
"'How far from the body?' | |
"'A dozen yards or so.' | |
"'And how far from the edge of the wood?' | |
"'About the same.' | |
"'Then if it was removed it was while you were within a dozen yards | |
of it?' | |
"'Yes, but with my back towards it.' | |
"This concluded the examination of the witness." | |
"I see," said I as I glanced down the column, "that the coroner in | |
his concluding remarks was rather severe upon young McCarthy. He | |
calls attention, and with reason, to the discrepancy about his father | |
having signalled to him before seeing him, also to his refusal to | |
give details of his conversation with his father, and his singular | |
account of his father's dying words. They are all, as he remarks, | |
very much against the son." | |
Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himself out upon the | |
cushioned seat. "Both you and the coroner have been at some pains," | |
said he, "to single out the very strongest points in the young man's | |
favour. Don't you see that you alternately give him credit for having | |
too much imagination and too little? Too little, if he could not | |
invent a cause of quarrel which would give him the sympathy of the | |
jury; too much, if he evolved from his own inner consciousness | |
anything so outré as a dying reference to a rat, and the incident of | |
the vanishing cloth. No, sir, I shall approach this case from the | |
point of view that what this young man says is true, and we shall see | |
whither that hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocket | |
Petrarch, and not another word shall I say of this case until we are | |
on the scene of action. We lunch at Swindon, and I see that we shall | |
be there in twenty minutes." | |
It was nearly four o'clock when we at last, after passing through the | |
beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn, found | |
ourselves at the pretty little country-town of Ross. A lean, | |
ferret-like man, furtive and sly-looking, was waiting for us upon the | |
platform. In spite of the light brown dustcoat and leather-leggings | |
which he wore in deference to his rustic surroundings, I had no | |
difficulty in recognising Lestrade, of Scotland Yard. With him we | |
drove to the Hereford Arms where a room had already been engaged for | |
us. | |
"I have ordered a carriage," said Lestrade as we sat over a cup of | |
tea. "I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be happy | |
until you had been on the scene of the crime." | |
"It was very nice and complimentary of you," Holmes answered. "It is | |
entirely a question of barometric pressure." | |
Lestrade looked startled. "I do not quite follow," he said. | |
"How is the glass? Twenty-nine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud in | |
the sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need smoking, and | |
the sofa is very much superior to the usual country hotel | |
abomination. I do not think that it is probable that I shall use the | |
carriage to-night." | |
Lestrade laughed indulgently. "You have, no doubt, already formed | |
your conclusions from the newspapers," he said. "The case is as plain | |
as a pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer it becomes. | |
Still, of course, one can't refuse a lady, and such a very positive | |
one, too. She has heard of you, and would have your opinion, though I | |
repeatedly told her that there was nothing which you could do which I | |
had not already done. Why, bless my soul! here is her carriage at the | |
door." | |
He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the | |
most lovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her violet | |
eyes shining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her cheeks, all | |
thought of her natural reserve lost in her overpowering excitement | |
and concern. | |
"Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" she cried, glancing from one to the other | |
of us, and finally, with a woman's quick intuition, fastening upon my | |
companion, "I am so glad that you have come. I have driven down to | |
tell you so. I know that James didn't do it. I know it, and I want | |
you to start upon your work knowing it, too. Never let yourself doubt | |
upon that point. We have known each other since we were little | |
children, and I know his faults as no one else does; but he is too | |
tender-hearted to hurt a fly. Such a charge is absurd to anyone who | |
really knows him." | |
"I hope we may clear him, Miss Turner," said Sherlock Holmes. "You | |
may rely upon my doing all that I can." | |
"But you have read the evidence. You have formed some conclusion? Do | |
you not see some loophole, some flaw? Do you not yourself think that | |
he is innocent?" | |
"I think that it is very probable." | |
"There, now!" she cried, throwing back her head and looking defiantly | |
at Lestrade. "You hear! He gives me hopes." | |
Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am afraid that my colleague has | |
been a little quick in forming his conclusions," he said. | |
"But he is right. Oh! I know that he is right. James never did it. | |
And about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the reason why | |
he would not speak about it to the coroner was because I was | |
concerned in it." | |
"In what way?" asked Holmes. | |
"It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had many | |
disagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that there | |
should be a marriage between us. James and I have always loved each | |
other as brother and sister; but of course he is young and has seen | |
very little of life yet, and--and--well, he naturally did not wish to | |
do anything like that yet. So there were quarrels, and this, I am | |
sure, was one of them." | |
"And your father?" asked Holmes. "Was he in favour of such a union?" | |
"No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr. McCarthy was in favour | |
of it." A quick blush passed over her fresh young face as Holmes shot | |
one of his keen, questioning glances at her. | |
"Thank you for this information," said he. "May I see your father if | |
I call to-morrow?" | |
"I am afraid the doctor won't allow it." | |
"The doctor?" | |
"Yes, have you not heard? Poor father has never been strong for years | |
back, but this has broken him down completely. He has taken to his | |
bed, and Dr. Willows says that he is a wreck and that his nervous | |
system is shattered. Mr. McCarthy was the only man alive who had | |
known dad in the old days in Victoria." | |
"Ha! In Victoria! That is important." | |
"Yes, at the mines." | |
"Quite so; at the gold-mines, where, as I understand, Mr. Turner made | |
his money." | |
"Yes, certainly." | |
"Thank you, Miss Turner. You have been of material assistance to me." | |
"You will tell me if you have any news to-morrow. No doubt you will | |
go to the prison to see James. Oh, if you do, Mr. Holmes, do tell him | |
that I know him to be innocent." | |
"I will, Miss Turner." | |
"I must go home now, for dad is very ill, and he misses me so if I | |
leave him. Good-bye, and God help you in your undertaking." She | |
hurried from the room as impulsively as she had entered, and we heard | |
the wheels of her carriage rattle off down the street. | |
"I am ashamed of you, Holmes," said Lestrade with dignity after a few | |
minutes' silence. "Why should you raise up hopes which you are bound | |
to disappoint? I am not over-tender of heart, but I call it cruel." | |
"I think that I see my way to clearing James McCarthy," said Holmes. | |
"Have you an order to see him in prison?" | |
"Yes, but only for you and me." | |
"Then I shall reconsider my resolution about going out. We have still | |
time to take a train to Hereford and see him to-night?" | |
"Ample." | |
"Then let us do so. Watson, I fear that you will find it very slow, | |
but I shall only be away a couple of hours." | |
I walked down to the station with them, and then wandered through the | |
streets of the little town, finally returning to the hotel, where I | |
lay upon the sofa and tried to interest myself in a yellow-backed | |
novel. The puny plot of the story was so thin, however, when compared | |
to the deep mystery through which we were groping, and I found my | |
attention wander so continually from the action to the fact, that I | |
at last flung it across the room and gave myself up entirely to a | |
consideration of the events of the day. Supposing that this unhappy | |
young man's story were absolutely true, then what hellish thing, what | |
absolutely unforeseen and extraordinary calamity could have occurred | |
between the time when he parted from his father, and the moment when, | |
drawn back by his screams, he rushed into the glade? It was something | |
terrible and deadly. What could it be? Might not the nature of the | |
injuries reveal something to my medical instincts? I rang the bell | |
and called for the weekly county paper, which contained a verbatim | |
account of the inquest. In the surgeon's deposition it was stated | |
that the posterior third of the left parietal bone and the left half | |
of the occipital bone had been shattered by a heavy blow from a blunt | |
weapon. I marked the spot upon my own head. Clearly such a blow must | |
have been struck from behind. That was to some extent in favour of | |
the accused, as when seen quarrelling he was face to face with his | |
father. Still, it did not go for very much, for the older man might | |
have turned his back before the blow fell. Still, it might be worth | |
while to call Holmes' attention to it. Then there was the peculiar | |
dying reference to a rat. What could that mean? It could not be | |
delirium. A man dying from a sudden blow does not commonly become | |
delirious. No, it was more likely to be an attempt to explain how he | |
met his fate. But what could it indicate? I cudgelled my brains to | |
find some possible explanation. And then the incident of the grey | |
cloth seen by young McCarthy. If that were true the murderer must | |
have dropped some part of his dress, presumably his overcoat, in his | |
flight, and must have had the hardihood to return and to carry it | |
away at the instant when the son was kneeling with his back turned | |
not a dozen paces off. What a tissue of mysteries and improbabilities | |
the whole thing was! I did not wonder at Lestrade's opinion, and yet | |
I had so much faith in Sherlock Holmes' insight that I could not lose | |
hope as long as every fresh fact seemed to strengthen his conviction | |
of young McCarthy's innocence. | |
It was late before Sherlock Holmes returned. He came back alone, for | |
Lestrade was staying in lodgings in the town. | |
"The glass still keeps very high," he remarked as he sat down. "It is | |
of importance that it should not rain before we are able to go over | |
the ground. On the other hand, a man should be at his very best and | |
keenest for such nice work as that, and I did not wish to do it when | |
fagged by a long journey. I have seen young McCarthy." | |
"And what did you learn from him?" | |
"Nothing." | |
"Could he throw no light?" | |
"None at all. I was inclined to think at one time that he knew who | |
had done it and was screening him or her, but I am convinced now that | |
he is as puzzled as everyone else. He is not a very quick-witted | |
youth, though comely to look at and, I should think, sound at heart." | |
"I cannot admire his taste," I remarked, "if it is indeed a fact that | |
he was averse to a marriage with so charming a young lady as this | |
Miss Turner." | |
"Ah, thereby hangs a rather painful tale. This fellow is madly, | |
insanely, in love with her, but some two years ago, when he was only | |
a lad, and before he really knew her, for she had been away five | |
years at a boarding-school, what does the idiot do but get into the | |
clutches of a barmaid in Bristol and marry her at a registry office? | |
No one knows a word of the matter, but you can imagine how maddening | |
it must be to him to be upbraided for not doing what he would give | |
his very eyes to do, but what he knows to be absolutely impossible. | |
It was sheer frenzy of this sort which made him throw his hands up | |
into the air when his father, at their last interview, was goading | |
him on to propose to Miss Turner. On the other hand, he had no means | |
of supporting himself, and his father, who was by all accounts a very | |
hard man, would have thrown him over utterly had he known the truth. | |
It was with his barmaid wife that he had spent the last three days in | |
Bristol, and his father did not know where he was. Mark that point. | |
It is of importance. Good has come out of evil, however, for the | |
barmaid, finding from the papers that he is in serious trouble and | |
likely to be hanged, has thrown him over utterly and has written to | |
him to say that she has a husband already in the Bermuda Dockyard, so | |
that there is really no tie between them. I think that that bit of | |
news has consoled young McCarthy for all that he has suffered." | |
"But if he is innocent, who has done it?" | |
"Ah! who? I would call your attention very particularly to two | |
points. One is that the murdered man had an appointment with someone | |
at the pool, and that the someone could not have been his son, for | |
his son was away, and he did not know when he would return. The | |
second is that the murdered man was heard to cry 'Cooee!' before he | |
knew that his son had returned. Those are the crucial points upon | |
which the case depends. And now let us talk about George Meredith, if | |
you please, and we shall leave all minor matters until to-morrow." | |
There was no rain, as Holmes had foretold, and the morning broke | |
bright and cloudless. At nine o'clock Lestrade called for us with the | |
carriage, and we set off for Hatherley Farm and the Boscombe Pool. | |
"There is serious news this morning," Lestrade observed. "It is said | |
that Mr. Turner, of the Hall, is so ill that his life is despaired | |
of." | |
"An elderly man, I presume?" said Holmes. | |
"About sixty; but his constitution has been shattered by his life | |
abroad, and he has been in failing health for some time. This | |
business has had a very bad effect upon him. He was an old friend of | |
McCarthy's, and, I may add, a great benefactor to him, for I have | |
learned that he gave him Hatherley Farm rent free." | |
"Indeed! That is interesting," said Holmes. | |
"Oh, yes! In a hundred other ways he has helped him. Everybody about | |
here speaks of his kindness to him." | |
"Really! Does it not strike you as a little singular that this | |
McCarthy, who appears to have had little of his own, and to have been | |
under such obligations to Turner, should still talk of marrying his | |
son to Turner's daughter, who is, presumably, heiress to the estate, | |
and that in such a very cocksure manner, as if it were merely a case | |
of a proposal and all else would follow? It is the more strange, | |
since we know that Turner himself was averse to the idea. The | |
daughter told us as much. Do you not deduce something from that?" | |
"We have got to the deductions and the inferences," said Lestrade, | |
winking at me. "I find it hard enough to tackle facts, Holmes, | |
without flying away after theories and fancies." | |
"You are right," said Holmes demurely; "you do find it very hard to | |
tackle the facts." | |
"Anyhow, I have grasped one fact which you seem to find it difficult | |
to get hold of," replied Lestrade with some warmth. | |
"And that is--" | |
"That McCarthy senior met his death from McCarthy junior and that all | |
theories to the contrary are the merest moonshine." | |
"Well, moonshine is a brighter thing than fog," said Holmes, | |
laughing. "But I am very much mistaken if this is not Hatherley Farm | |
upon the left." | |
"Yes, that is it." It was a widespread, comfortable-looking building, | |
two-storied, slate-roofed, with great yellow blotches of lichen upon | |
the grey walls. The drawn blinds and the smokeless chimneys, however, | |
gave it a stricken look, as though the weight of this horror still | |
lay heavy upon it. We called at the door, when the maid, at Holmes' | |
request, showed us the boots which her master wore at the time of his | |
death, and also a pair of the son's, though not the pair which he had | |
then had. Having measured these very carefully from seven or eight | |
different points, Holmes desired to be led to the court-yard, from | |
which we all followed the winding track which led to Boscombe Pool. | |
Sherlock Holmes was transformed when he was hot upon such a scent as | |
this. Men who had only known the quiet thinker and logician of Baker | |
Street would have failed to recognise him. His face flushed and | |
darkened. His brows were drawn into two hard black lines, while his | |
eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. His face was | |
bent downward, his shoulders bowed, his lips compressed, and the | |
veins stood out like whipcord in his long, sinewy neck. His nostrils | |
seemed to dilate with a purely animal lust for the chase, and his | |
mind was so absolutely concentrated upon the matter before him that a | |
question or remark fell unheeded upon his ears, or, at the most, only | |
provoked a quick, impatient snarl in reply. Swiftly and silently he | |
made his way along the track which ran through the meadows, and so by | |
way of the woods to the Boscombe Pool. It was damp, marshy ground, as | |
is all that district, and there were marks of many feet, both upon | |
the path and amid the short grass which bounded it on either side. | |
Sometimes Holmes would hurry on, sometimes stop dead, and once he | |
made quite a little detour into the meadow. Lestrade and I walked | |
behind him, the detective indifferent and contemptuous, while I | |
watched my friend with the interest which sprang from the conviction | |
that every one of his actions was directed towards a definite end. | |
The Boscombe Pool, which is a little reed-girt sheet of water some | |
fifty yards across, is situated at the boundary between the Hatherley | |
Farm and the private park of the wealthy Mr. Turner. Above the woods | |
which lined it upon the farther side we could see the red, jutting | |
pinnacles which marked the site of the rich landowner's dwelling. On | |
the Hatherley side of the pool the woods grew very thick, and there | |
was a narrow belt of sodden grass twenty paces across between the | |
edge of the trees and the reeds which lined the lake. Lestrade showed | |
us the exact spot at which the body had been found, and, indeed, so | |
moist was the ground, that I could plainly see the traces which had | |
been left by the fall of the stricken man. To Holmes, as I could see | |
by his eager face and peering eyes, very many other things were to be | |
read upon the trampled grass. He ran round, like a dog who is picking | |
up a scent, and then turned upon my companion. | |
"What did you go into the pool for?" he asked. | |
"I fished about with a rake. I thought there might be some weapon or | |
other trace. But how on earth--" | |
"Oh, tut, tut! I have no time! That left foot of yours with its | |
inward twist is all over the place. A mole could trace it, and there | |
it vanishes among the reeds. Oh, how simple it would all have been | |
had I been here before they came like a herd of buffalo and wallowed | |
all over it. Here is where the party with the lodge-keeper came, and | |
they have covered all tracks for six or eight feet round the body. | |
But here are three separate tracks of the same feet." He drew out a | |
lens and lay down upon his waterproof to have a better view, talking | |
all the time rather to himself than to us. "These are young | |
McCarthy's feet. Twice he was walking, and once he ran swiftly, so | |
that the soles are deeply marked and the heels hardly visible. That | |
bears out his story. He ran when he saw his father on the ground. | |
Then here are the father's feet as he paced up and down. What is | |
this, then? It is the butt-end of the gun as the son stood listening. | |
And this? Ha, ha! What have we here? Tiptoes! tiptoes! Square, too, | |
quite unusual boots! They come, they go, they come again--of course | |
that was for the cloak. Now where did they come from?" He ran up and | |
down, sometimes losing, sometimes finding the track until we were | |
well within the edge of the wood and under the shadow of a great | |
beech, the largest tree in the neighbourhood. Holmes traced his way | |
to the farther side of this and lay down once more upon his face with | |
a little cry of satisfaction. For a long time he remained there, | |
turning over the leaves and dried sticks, gathering up what seemed to | |
me to be dust into an envelope and examining with his lens not only | |
the ground but even the bark of the tree as far as he could reach. A | |
jagged stone was lying among the moss, and this also he carefully | |
examined and retained. Then he followed a pathway through the wood | |
until he came to the highroad, where all traces were lost. | |
"It has been a case of considerable interest," he remarked, returning | |
to his natural manner. "I fancy that this grey house on the right | |
must be the lodge. I think that I will go in and have a word with | |
Moran, and perhaps write a little note. Having done that, we may | |
drive back to our luncheon. You may walk to the cab, and I shall be | |
with you presently." | |
It was about ten minutes before we regained our cab and drove back | |
into Ross, Holmes still carrying with him the stone which he had | |
picked up in the wood. | |
"This may interest you, Lestrade," he remarked, holding it out. "The | |
murder was done with it." | |
"I see no marks." | |
"There are none." | |
"How do you know, then?" | |
"The grass was growing under it. It had only lain there a few days. | |
There was no sign of a place whence it had been taken. It corresponds | |
with the injuries. There is no sign of any other weapon." | |
"And the murderer?" | |
"Is a tall man, left-handed, limps with the right leg, wears | |
thick-soled shooting-boots and a grey cloak, smokes Indian cigars, | |
uses a cigar-holder, and carries a blunt pen-knife in his pocket. | |
There are several other indications, but these may be enough to aid | |
us in our search." | |
Lestrade laughed. "I am afraid that I am still a sceptic," he said. | |
"Theories are all very well, but we have to deal with a hard-headed | |
British jury." | |
"Nous verrons," answered Holmes calmly. "You work your own method, | |
and I shall work mine. I shall be busy this afternoon, and shall | |
probably return to London by the evening train." | |
"And leave your case unfinished?" | |
"No, finished." | |
"But the mystery?" | |
"It is solved." | |
"Who was the criminal, then?" | |
"The gentleman I describe." | |
"But who is he?" | |
"Surely it would not be difficult to find out. This is not such a | |
populous neighbourhood." | |
Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. "I am a practical man," he said, | |
"and I really cannot undertake to go about the country looking for a | |
left-handed gentleman with a game leg. I should become the | |
laughing-stock of Scotland Yard." | |
"All right," said Holmes quietly. "I have given you the chance. Here | |
are your lodgings. Good-bye. I shall drop you a line before I leave." | |
Having left Lestrade at his rooms, we drove to our hotel, where we | |
found lunch upon the table. Holmes was silent and buried in thought | |
with a pained expression upon his face, as one who finds himself in a | |
perplexing position. | |
"Look here, Watson," he said when the cloth was cleared "just sit | |
down in this chair and let me preach to you for a little. I don't | |
know quite what to do, and I should value your advice. Light a cigar | |
and let me expound." | |
"Pray do so." | |
"Well, now, in considering this case there are two points about young | |
McCarthy's narrative which struck us both instantly, although they | |
impressed me in his favour and you against him. One was the fact that | |
his father should, according to his account, cry 'Cooee!' before | |
seeing him. The other was his singular dying reference to a rat. He | |
mumbled several words, you understand, but that was all that caught | |
the son's ear. Now from this double point our research must commence, | |
and we will begin it by presuming that what the lad says is | |
absolutely true." | |
"What of this 'Cooee!' then?" | |
"Well, obviously it could not have been meant for the son. The son, | |
as far as he knew, was in Bristol. It was mere chance that he was | |
within earshot. The 'Cooee!' was meant to attract the attention of | |
whoever it was that he had the appointment with. But 'Cooee' is a | |
distinctly Australian cry, and one which is used between Australians. | |
There is a strong presumption that the person whom McCarthy expected | |
to meet him at Boscombe Pool was someone who had been in Australia." | |
"What of the rat, then?" | |
Sherlock Holmes took a folded paper from his pocket and flattened it | |
out on the table. "This is a map of the Colony of Victoria," he said. | |
"I wired to Bristol for it last night." He put his hand over part of | |
the map. "What do you read?" | |
"ARAT," I read. | |
"And now?" He raised his hand. | |
"BALLARAT." | |
"Quite so. That was the word the man uttered, and of which his son | |
only caught the last two syllables. He was trying to utter the name | |
of his murderer. So and so, of Ballarat." | |
"It is wonderful!" I exclaimed. | |
"It is obvious. And now, you see, I had narrowed the field down | |
considerably. The possession of a grey garment was a third point | |
which, granting the son's statement to be correct, was a certainty. | |
We have come now out of mere vagueness to the definite conception of | |
an Australian from Ballarat with a grey cloak." | |
"Certainly." | |
"And one who was at home in the district, for the pool can only be | |
approached by the farm or by the estate, where strangers could hardly | |
wander." | |
"Quite so." | |
"Then comes our expedition of to-day. By an examination of the ground | |
I gained the trifling details which I gave to that imbecile Lestrade, | |
as to the personality of the criminal." | |
"But how did you gain them?" | |
"You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles." | |
"His height I know that you might roughly judge from the length of | |
his stride. His boots, too, might be told from their traces." | |
"Yes, they were peculiar boots." | |
"But his lameness?" | |
"The impression of his right foot was always less distinct than his | |
left. He put less weight upon it. Why? Because he limped--he was | |
lame." | |
"But his left-handedness." | |
"You were yourself struck by the nature of the injury as recorded by | |
the surgeon at the inquest. The blow was struck from immediately | |
behind, and yet was upon the left side. Now, how can that be unless | |
it were by a left-handed man? He had stood behind that tree during | |
the interview between the father and son. He had even smoked there. I | |
found the ash of a cigar, which my special knowledge of tobacco ashes | |
enables me to pronounce as an Indian cigar. I have, as you know, | |
devoted some attention to this, and written a little monograph on the | |
ashes of 140 different varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette | |
tobacco. Having found the ash, I then looked round and discovered the | |
stump among the moss where he had tossed it. It was an Indian cigar, | |
of the variety which are rolled in Rotterdam." | |
"And the cigar-holder?" | |
"I could see that the end had not been in his mouth. Therefore he | |
used a holder. The tip had been cut off, not bitten off, but the cut | |
was not a clean one, so I deduced a blunt pen-knife." | |
"Holmes," I said, "you have drawn a net round this man from which he | |
cannot escape, and you have saved an innocent human life as truly as | |
if you had cut the cord which was hanging him. I see the direction in | |
which all this points. The culprit is--" | |
"Mr. John Turner," cried the hotel waiter, opening the door of our | |
sitting-room, and ushering in a visitor. | |
The man who entered was a strange and impressive figure. His slow, | |
limping step and bowed shoulders gave the appearance of decrepitude, | |
and yet his hard, deep-lined, craggy features, and his enormous limbs | |
showed that he was possessed of unusual strength of body and of | |
character. His tangled beard, grizzled hair, and outstanding, | |
drooping eyebrows combined to give an air of dignity and power to his | |
appearance, but his face was of an ashen white, while his lips and | |
the corners of his nostrils were tinged with a shade of blue. It was | |
clear to me at a glance that he was in the grip of some deadly and | |
chronic disease. | |
"Pray sit down on the sofa," said Holmes gently. "You had my note?" | |
"Yes, the lodge-keeper brought it up. You said that you wished to see | |
me here to avoid scandal." | |
"I thought people would talk if I went to the Hall." | |
"And why did you wish to see me?" He looked across at my companion | |
with despair in his weary eyes, as though his question was already | |
answered. | |
"Yes," said Holmes, answering the look rather than the words. "It is | |
so. I know all about McCarthy." | |
The old man sank his face in his hands. "God help me!" he cried. "But | |
I would not have let the young man come to harm. I give you my word | |
that I would have spoken out if it went against him at the Assizes." | |
"I am glad to hear you say so," said Holmes gravely. | |
"I would have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl. It would | |
break her heart--it will break her heart when she hears that I am | |
arrested." | |
"It may not come to that," said Holmes. | |
"What?" | |
"I am no official agent. I understand that it was your daughter who | |
required my presence here, and I am acting in her interests. Young | |
McCarthy must be got off, however." | |
"I am a dying man," said old Turner. "I have had diabetes for years. | |
My doctor says it is a question whether I shall live a month. Yet I | |
would rather die under my own roof than in a jail." | |
Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his hand and a | |
bundle of paper before him. "Just tell us the truth," he said. "I | |
shall jot down the facts. You will sign it, and Watson here can | |
witness it. Then I could produce your confession at the last | |
extremity to save young McCarthy. I promise you that I shall not use | |
it unless it is absolutely needed." | |
"It's as well," said the old man; "it's a question whether I shall | |
live to the Assizes, so it matters little to me, but I should wish to | |
spare Alice the shock. And now I will make the thing clear to you; it | |
has been a long time in the acting, but will not take me long to | |
tell. | |
"You didn't know this dead man, McCarthy. He was a devil incarnate. I | |
tell you that. God keep you out of the clutches of such a man as he. | |
His grip has been upon me these twenty years, and he has blasted my | |
life. I'll tell you first how I came to be in his power. | |
"It was in the early '60's at the diggings. I was a young chap then, | |
hot-blooded and reckless, ready to turn my hand at anything; I got | |
among bad companions, took to drink, had no luck with my claim, took | |
to the bush, and in a word became what you would call over here a | |
highway robber. There were six of us, and we had a wild, free life of | |
it, sticking up a station from time to time, or stopping the wagons | |
on the road to the diggings. Black Jack of Ballarat was the name I | |
went under, and our party is still remembered in the colony as the | |
Ballarat Gang. | |
"One day a gold convoy came down from Ballarat to Melbourne, and we | |
lay in wait for it and attacked it. There were six troopers and six | |
of us, so it was a close thing, but we emptied four of their saddles | |
at the first volley. Three of our boys were killed, however, before | |
we got the swag. I put my pistol to the head of the wagon-driver, who | |
was this very man McCarthy. I wish to the Lord that I had shot him | |
then, but I spared him, though I saw his wicked little eyes fixed on | |
my face, as though to remember every feature. We got away with the | |
gold, became wealthy men, and made our way over to England without | |
being suspected. There I parted from my old pals and determined to | |
settle down to a quiet and respectable life. I bought this estate, | |
which chanced to be in the market, and I set myself to do a little | |
good with my money, to make up for the way in which I had earned it. | |
I married, too, and though my wife died young she left me my dear | |
little Alice. Even when she was just a baby her wee hand seemed to | |
lead me down the right path as nothing else had ever done. In a word, | |
I turned over a new leaf and did my best to make up for the past. All | |
was going well when McCarthy laid his grip upon me. | |
"I had gone up to town about an investment, and I met him in Regent | |
Street with hardly a coat to his back or a boot to his foot. | |
"'Here we are, Jack,' says he, touching me on the arm; 'we'll be as | |
good as a family to you. There's two of us, me and my son, and you | |
can have the keeping of us. If you don't--it's a fine, law-abiding | |
country is England, and there's always a policeman within hail.' | |
"Well, down they came to the west country, there was no shaking them | |
off, and there they have lived rent free on my best land ever since. | |
There was no rest for me, no peace, no forgetfulness; turn where I | |
would, there was his cunning, grinning face at my elbow. It grew | |
worse as Alice grew up, for he soon saw I was more afraid of her | |
knowing my past than of the police. Whatever he wanted he must have, | |
and whatever it was I gave him without question, land, money, houses, | |
until at last he asked a thing which I could not give. He asked for | |
Alice. | |
"His son, you see, had grown up, and so had my girl, and as I was | |
known to be in weak health, it seemed a fine stroke to him that his | |
lad should step into the whole property. But there I was firm. I | |
would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine; not that I had any | |
dislike to the lad, but his blood was in him, and that was enough. I | |
stood firm. McCarthy threatened. I braved him to do his worst. We | |
were to meet at the pool midway between our houses to talk it over. | |
"When I went down there I found him talking with his son, so I smoked | |
a cigar and waited behind a tree until he should be alone. But as I | |
listened to his talk all that was black and bitter in me seemed to | |
come uppermost. He was urging his son to marry my daughter with as | |
little regard for what she might think as if she were a slut from off | |
the streets. It drove me mad to think that I and all that I held most | |
dear should be in the power of such a man as this. Could I not snap | |
the bond? I was already a dying and a desperate man. Though clear of | |
mind and fairly strong of limb, I knew that my own fate was sealed. | |
But my memory and my girl! Both could be saved if I could but silence | |
that foul tongue. I did it, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again. Deeply | |
as I have sinned, I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But | |
that my girl should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was | |
more than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction | |
than if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought | |
back his son; but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I was | |
forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in my | |
flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all that occurred." | |
"Well, it is not for me to judge you," said Holmes as the old man | |
signed the statement which had been drawn out. "I pray that we may | |
never be exposed to such a temptation." | |
"I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?" | |
"In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you | |
will soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the | |
Assizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is condemned I | |
shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never be seen by mortal | |
eye; and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe | |
with us." | |
"Farewell, then," said the old man solemnly. "Your own deathbeds, | |
when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace which | |
you have given to mine." Tottering and shaking in all his giant | |
frame, he stumbled slowly from the room. | |
"God help us!" said Holmes after a long silence. "Why does fate play | |
such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such a case as | |
this that I do not think of Baxter's words, and say, 'There, but for | |
the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.'" | |
James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a | |
number of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and submitted | |
to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven months after our | |
interview, but he is now dead; and there is every prospect that the | |
son and daughter may come to live happily together in ignorance of | |
the black cloud which rests upon their past. | |
THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS | |
When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes cases | |
between the years '82 and '90, I am faced by so many which present | |
strange and interesting features that it is no easy matter to know | |
which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, have already | |
gained publicity through the papers, and others have not offered a | |
field for those peculiar qualities which my friend possessed in so | |
high a degree, and which it is the object of these papers to | |
illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his analytical skill, and would | |
be, as narratives, beginnings without an ending, while others have | |
been but partially cleared up, and have their explanations founded | |
rather upon conjecture and surmise than on that absolute logical | |
proof which was so dear to him. There is, however, one of these last | |
which was so remarkable in its details and so startling in its | |
results that I am tempted to give some account of it in spite of the | |
fact that there are points in connection with it which never have | |
been, and probably never will be, entirely cleared up. | |
The year '87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater or | |
less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my headings under | |
this one twelve months I find an account of the adventure of the | |
Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a | |
luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the | |
facts connected with the loss of the British barque "Sophy Anderson", | |
of the singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of | |
Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as | |
may be remembered, Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead | |
man's watch, to prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and | |
that therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time--a | |
deduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the | |
case. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of | |
them present such singular features as the strange train of | |
circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe. | |
It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales had | |
set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had screamed and | |
the rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the | |
heart of great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds | |
for the instant from the routine of life and to recognise the | |
presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind | |
through the bars of his civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage. | |
As evening drew in, the storm grew higher and louder, and the wind | |
cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat | |
moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of | |
crime, while I at the other was deep in one of Clark Russell's fine | |
sea-stories until the howl of the gale from without seemed to blend | |
with the text, and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the | |
long swash of the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother's, | |
and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at | |
Baker Street. | |
"Why," said I, glancing up at my companion, "that was surely the | |
bell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?" | |
"Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encourage | |
visitors." | |
"A client, then?" | |
"If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man out on | |
such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is more likely | |
to be some crony of the landlady's." | |
Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there came | |
a step in the passage and a tapping at the door. He stretched out his | |
long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and towards the vacant | |
chair upon which a newcomer must sit. | |
"Come in!" said he. | |
The man who entered was young, some two-and-twenty at the outside, | |
well-groomed and trimly clad, with something of refinement and | |
delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrella which he held in his | |
hand, and his long shining waterproof told of the fierce weather | |
through which he had come. He looked about him anxiously in the glare | |
of the lamp, and I could see that his face was pale and his eyes | |
heavy, like those of a man who is weighed down with some great | |
anxiety. | |
"I owe you an apology," he said, raising his golden pince-nez to his | |
eyes. "I trust that I am not intruding. I fear that I have brought | |
some traces of the storm and rain into your snug chamber." | |
"Give me your coat and umbrella," said Holmes. "They may rest here on | |
the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from the | |
south-west, I see." | |
"Yes, from Horsham." | |
"That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is quite | |
distinctive." | |
"I have come for advice." | |
"That is easily got." | |
"And help." | |
"That is not always so easy." | |
"I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast how | |
you saved him in the Tankerville Club scandal." | |
"Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards." | |
"He said that you could solve anything." | |
"He said too much." | |
"That you are never beaten." | |
"I have been beaten four times--three times by men, and once by a | |
woman." | |
"But what is that compared with the number of your successes?" | |
"It is true that I have been generally successful." | |
"Then you may be so with me." | |
"I beg that you will draw your chair up to the fire and favour me | |
with some details as to your case." | |
"It is no ordinary one." | |
"None of those which come to me are. I am the last court of appeal." | |
"And yet I question, sir, whether, in all your experience, you have | |
ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of events | |
than those which have happened in my own family." | |
"You fill me with interest," said Holmes. "Pray give us the essential | |
facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards question you as to | |
those details which seem to me to be most important." | |
The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out towards | |
the blaze. | |
"My name," said he, "is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, as | |
far as I can understand, little to do with this awful business. It is | |
a hereditary matter; so in order to give you an idea of the facts, I | |
must go back to the commencement of the affair. | |
"You must know that my grandfather had two sons--my uncle Elias and | |
my father Joseph. My father had a small factory at Coventry, which he | |
enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He was a patentee | |
of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business met with such | |
success that he was able to sell it and to retire upon a handsome | |
competence. | |
"My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and | |
became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done very | |
well. At the time of the war he fought in Jackson's army, and | |
afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be a colonel. When Lee laid | |
down his arms my uncle returned to his plantation, where he remained | |
for three or four years. About 1869 or 1870 he came back to Europe | |
and took a small estate in Sussex, near Horsham. He had made a very | |
considerable fortune in the States, and his reason for leaving them | |
was his aversion to the negroes, and his dislike of the Republican | |
policy in extending the franchise to them. He was a singular man, | |
fierce and quick-tempered, very foul-mouthed when he was angry, and | |
of a most retiring disposition. During all the years that he lived at | |
Horsham, I doubt if ever he set foot in the town. He had a garden and | |
two or three fields round his house, and there he would take his | |
exercise, though very often for weeks on end he would never leave his | |
room. He drank a great deal of brandy and smoked very heavily, but he | |
would see no society and did not want any friends, not even his own | |
brother. | |
"He didn't mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the time | |
when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This would be | |
in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England. | |
He begged my father to let me live with him and he was very kind to | |
me in his way. When he was sober he used to be fond of playing | |
backgammon and draughts with me, and he would make me his | |
representative both with the servants and with the tradespeople, so | |
that by the time that I was sixteen I was quite master of the house. | |
I kept all the keys and could go where I liked and do what I liked, | |
so long as I did not disturb him in his privacy. There was one | |
singular exception, however, for he had a single room, a lumber-room | |
up among the attics, which was invariably locked, and which he would | |
never permit either me or anyone else to enter. With a boy's | |
curiosity I have peeped through the keyhole, but I was never able to | |
see more than such a collection of old trunks and bundles as would be | |
expected in such a room. | |
"One day--it was in March, 1883--a letter with a foreign stamp lay | |
upon the table in front of the colonel's plate. It was not a common | |
thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in | |
ready money, and he had no friends of any sort. 'From India!' said he | |
as he took it up, 'Pondicherry postmark! What can this be?' Opening | |
it hurriedly, out there jumped five little dried orange pips, which | |
pattered down upon his plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh | |
was struck from my lips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen, | |
his eyes were protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared | |
at the envelope which he still held in his trembling hand, 'K. K. | |
K.!' he shrieked, and then, 'My God, my God, my sins have overtaken | |
me!' | |
"'What is it, uncle?' I cried. | |
"'Death,' said he, and rising from the table he retired to his room, | |
leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope and saw | |
scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the | |
letter K three times repeated. There was nothing else save the five | |
dried pips. What could be the reason of his overpowering terror? I | |
left the breakfast-table, and as I ascended the stair I met him | |
coming down with an old rusty key, which must have belonged to the | |
attic, in one hand, and a small brass box, like a cashbox, in the | |
other. | |
"'They may do what they like, but I'll checkmate them still,' said he | |
with an oath. 'Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room to-day, | |
and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.' | |
"I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to step | |
up to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the grate there | |
was a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned paper, while the | |
brass box stood open and empty beside it. As I glanced at the box I | |
noticed, with a start, that upon the lid was printed the treble K | |
which I had read in the morning upon the envelope. | |
"'I wish you, John,' said my uncle, 'to witness my will. I leave my | |
estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to my | |
brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to you. If | |
you can enjoy it in peace, well and good! If you find you cannot, | |
take my advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest enemy. I am | |
sorry to give you such a two-edged thing, but I can't say what turn | |
things are going to take. Kindly sign the paper where Mr. Fordham | |
shows you.' | |
"I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with | |
him. The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest | |
impression upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every way in | |
my mind without being able to make anything of it. Yet I could not | |
shake off the vague feeling of dread which it left behind, though the | |
sensation grew less keen as the weeks passed and nothing happened to | |
disturb the usual routine of our lives. I could see a change in my | |
uncle, however. He drank more than ever, and he was less inclined for | |
any sort of society. Most of his time he would spend in his room, | |
with the door locked upon the inside, but sometimes he would emerge | |
in a sort of drunken frenzy and would burst out of the house and tear | |
about the garden with a revolver in his hand, screaming out that he | |
was afraid of no man, and that he was not to be cooped up, like a | |
sheep in a pen, by man or devil. When these hot fits were over, | |
however, he would rush tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar | |
it behind him, like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the | |
terror which lies at the roots of his soul. At such times I have seen | |
his face, even on a cold day, glisten with moisture, as though it | |
were new raised from a basin. | |
"Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to abuse | |
your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken | |
sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when we went to | |
search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which | |
lay at the foot of the garden. There was no sign of any violence, and | |
the water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to | |
his known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of 'suicide.' But I, who | |
knew how he winced from the very thought of death, had much ado to | |
persuade myself that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The | |
matter passed, however, and my father entered into possession of the | |
estate, and of some ÂŁ14,000, which lay to his credit at the bank." | |
"One moment," Holmes interposed, "your statement is, I foresee, one | |
of the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me have the | |
date of the reception by your uncle of the letter, and the date of | |
his supposed suicide." | |
"The letter arrived on March 10, 1883. His death was seven weeks | |
later, upon the night of May 2nd." | |
"Thank you. Pray proceed." | |
"When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my request, | |
made a careful examination of the attic, which had been always locked | |
up. We found the brass box there, although its contents had been | |
destroyed. On the inside of the cover was a paper label, with the | |
initials of K. K. K. repeated upon it, and 'Letters, memoranda, | |
receipts, and a register' written beneath. These, we presume, | |
indicated the nature of the papers which had been destroyed by | |
Colonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was nothing of much importance | |
in the attic save a great many scattered papers and note-books | |
bearing upon my uncle's life in America. Some of them were of the war | |
time and showed that he had done his duty well and had borne the | |
repute of a brave soldier. Others were of a date during the | |
reconstruction of the Southern states, and were mostly concerned with | |
politics, for he had evidently taken a strong part in opposing the | |
carpet-bag politicians who had been sent down from the North. | |
"Well, it was the beginning of '84 when my father came to live at | |
Horsham, and all went as well as possible with us until the January | |
of '85. On the fourth day after the new year I heard my father give a | |
sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the breakfast-table. | |
There he was, sitting with a newly opened envelope in one hand and | |
five dried orange pips in the outstretched palm of the other one. He | |
had always laughed at what he called my cock-and-bull story about the | |
colonel, but he looked very scared and puzzled now that the same | |
thing had come upon himself. | |
"'Why, what on earth does this mean, John?' he stammered. | |
"My heart had turned to lead. 'It is K. K. K.,' said I. | |
"He looked inside the envelope. 'So it is,' he cried. 'Here are the | |
very letters. But what is this written above them?' | |
"'Put the papers on the sundial,' I read, peeping over his shoulder. | |
"'What papers? What sundial?' he asked. | |
"'The sundial in the garden. There is no other,' said I; 'but the | |
papers must be those that are destroyed.' | |
"'Pooh!' said he, gripping hard at his courage. 'We are in a | |
civilised land here, and we can't have tomfoolery of this kind. Where | |
does the thing come from?' | |
"'From Dundee,' I answered, glancing at the postmark. | |
"'Some preposterous practical joke,' said he. 'What have I to do with | |
sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such nonsense.' | |
"'I should certainly speak to the police,' I said. | |
"'And be laughed at for my pains. Nothing of the sort.' | |
"'Then let me do so?' | |
"'No, I forbid you. I won't have a fuss made about such nonsense.' | |
"It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate man. I | |
went about, however, with a heart which was full of forebodings. | |
"On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went from | |
home to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody, who is in command | |
of one of the forts upon Portsdown Hill. I was glad that he should | |
go, for it seemed to me that he was farther from danger when he was | |
away from home. In that, however, I was in error. Upon the second day | |
of his absence I received a telegram from the major, imploring me to | |
come at once. My father had fallen over one of the deep chalk-pits | |
which abound in the neighbourhood, and was lying senseless, with a | |
shattered skull. I hurried to him, but he passed away without having | |
ever recovered his consciousness. He had, as it appears, been | |
returning from Fareham in the twilight, and as the country was | |
unknown to him, and the chalk-pit unfenced, the jury had no | |
hesitation in bringing in a verdict of 'death from accidental | |
causes.' Carefully as I examined every fact connected with his death, | |
I was unable to find anything which could suggest the idea of murder. | |
There were no signs of violence, no footmarks, no robbery, no record | |
of strangers having been seen upon the roads. And yet I need not tell | |
you that my mind was far from at ease, and that I was well-nigh | |
certain that some foul plot had been woven round him. | |
"In this sinister way I came into my inheritance. You will ask me why | |
I did not dispose of it? I answer, because I was well convinced that | |
our troubles were in some way dependent upon an incident in my | |
uncle's life, and that the danger would be as pressing in one house | |
as in another. | |
"It was in January, '85, that my poor father met his end, and two | |
years and eight months have elapsed since then. During that time I | |
have lived happily at Horsham, and I had begun to hope that this | |
curse had passed away from the family, and that it had ended with the | |
last generation. I had begun to take comfort too soon, however; | |
yesterday morning the blow fell in the very shape in which it had | |
come upon my father." | |
The young man took from his waistcoat a crumpled envelope, and | |
turning to the table he shook out upon it five little dried orange | |
pips. | |
"This is the envelope," he continued. "The postmark is | |
London--eastern division. Within are the very words which were upon | |
my father's last message: 'K. K. K.'; and then 'Put the papers on the | |
sundial.'" | |
"What have you done?" asked Holmes. | |
"Nothing." | |
"Nothing?" | |
"To tell the truth"--he sank his face into his thin, white hands--"I | |
have felt helpless. I have felt like one of those poor rabbits when | |
the snake is writhing towards it. I seem to be in the grasp of some | |
resistless, inexorable evil, which no foresight and no precautions | |
can guard against." | |
"Tut! tut!" cried Sherlock Holmes. "You must act, man, or you are | |
lost. Nothing but energy can save you. This is no time for despair." | |
"I have seen the police." | |
"Ah!" | |
"But they listened to my story with a smile. I am convinced that the | |
inspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all practical | |
jokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really accidents, as | |
the jury stated, and were not to be connected with the warnings." | |
Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. "Incredible imbecility!" | |
he cried. | |
"They have, however, allowed me a policeman, who may remain in the | |
house with me." | |
"Has he come with you to-night?" | |
"No. His orders were to stay in the house." | |
Again Holmes raved in the air. | |
"Why did you come to me," he cried, "and, above all, why did you not | |
come at once?" | |
"I did not know. It was only to-day that I spoke to Major Prendergast | |
about my troubles and was advised by him to come to you." | |
"It is really two days since you had the letter. We should have acted | |
before this. You have no further evidence, I suppose, than that which | |
you have placed before us--no suggestive detail which might help us?" | |
"There is one thing," said John Openshaw. He rummaged in his coat | |
pocket, and, drawing out a piece of discoloured, blue-tinted paper, | |
he laid it out upon the table. "I have some remembrance," said he, | |
"that on the day when my uncle burned the papers I observed that the | |
small, unburned margins which lay amid the ashes were of this | |
particular colour. I found this single sheet upon the floor of his | |
room, and I am inclined to think that it may be one of the papers | |
which has, perhaps, fluttered out from among the others, and in that | |
way has escaped destruction. Beyond the mention of pips, I do not see | |
that it helps us much. I think myself that it is a page from some | |
private diary. The writing is undoubtedly my uncle's." | |
Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, | |
which showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from a | |
book. It was headed, "March, 1869," and beneath were the following | |
enigmatical notices: | |
4th. Hudson came. Same old platform. | |
7th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and John Swain, of St. | |
Augustine. | |
9th. McCauley cleared. | |
10th. John Swain cleared. | |
12th. Visited Paramore. All well. | |
"Thank you!" said Holmes, folding up the paper and returning it to | |
our visitor. "And now you must on no account lose another instant. We | |
cannot spare time even to discuss what you have told me. You must get | |
home instantly and act." | |
"What shall I do?" | |
"There is but one thing to do. It must be done at once. You must put | |
this piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass box which | |
you have described. You must also put in a note to say that all the | |
other papers were burned by your uncle, and that this is the only one | |
which remains. You must assert that in such words as will carry | |
conviction with them. Having done this, you must at once put the box | |
out upon the sundial, as directed. Do you understand?" | |
"Entirely." | |
"Do not think of revenge, or anything of the sort, at present. I | |
think that we may gain that by means of the law; but we have our web | |
to weave, while theirs is already woven. The first consideration is | |
to remove the pressing danger which threatens you. The second is to | |
clear up the mystery and to punish the guilty parties." | |
"I thank you," said the young man, rising and pulling on his | |
overcoat. "You have given me fresh life and hope. I shall certainly | |
do as you advise." | |
"Do not lose an instant. And, above all, take care of yourself in the | |
meanwhile, for I do not think that there can be a doubt that you are | |
threatened by a very real and imminent danger. How do you go back?" | |
"By train from Waterloo." | |
"It is not yet nine. The streets will be crowded, so I trust that you | |
may be in safety. And yet you cannot guard yourself too closely." | |
"I am armed." | |
"That is well. To-morrow I shall set to work upon your case." | |
"I shall see you at Horsham, then?" | |
"No, your secret lies in London. It is there that I shall seek it." | |
"Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days, with news as to | |
the box and the papers. I shall take your advice in every | |
particular." He shook hands with us and took his leave. Outside the | |
wind still screamed and the rain splashed and pattered against the | |
windows. This strange, wild story seemed to have come to us from amid | |
the mad elements--blown in upon us like a sheet of sea-weed in a | |
gale--and now to have been reabsorbed by them once more. | |
Sherlock Holmes sat for some time in silence, with his head sunk | |
forward and his eyes bent upon the red glow of the fire. Then he lit | |
his pipe, and leaning back in his chair he watched the blue | |
smoke-rings as they chased each other up to the ceiling. | |
"I think, Watson," he remarked at last, "that of all our cases we | |
have had none more fantastic than this." | |
"Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four." | |
"Well, yes. Save, perhaps, that. And yet this John Openshaw seems to | |
me to be walking amid even greater perils than did the Sholtos." | |
"But have you," I asked, "formed any definite conception as to what | |
these perils are?" | |
"There can be no question as to their nature," he answered. | |
"Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and why does he pursue | |
this unhappy family?" | |
Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon the arms | |
of his chair, with his finger-tips together. "The ideal reasoner," he | |
remarked, "would, when he had once been shown a single fact in all | |
its bearings, deduce from it not only all the chain of events which | |
led up to it but also all the results which would follow from it. As | |
Cuvier could correctly describe a whole animal by the contemplation | |
of a single bone, so the observer who has thoroughly understood one | |
link in a series of incidents should be able to accurately state all | |
the other ones, both before and after. We have not yet grasped the | |
results which the reason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved | |
in the study which have baffled all those who have sought a solution | |
by the aid of their senses. To carry the art, however, to its highest | |
pitch, it is necessary that the reasoner should be able to utilise | |
all the facts which have come to his knowledge; and this in itself | |
implies, as you will readily see, a possession of all knowledge, | |
which, even in these days of free education and encyclopaedias, is a | |
somewhat rare accomplishment. It is not so impossible, however, that | |
a man should possess all knowledge which is likely to be useful to | |
him in his work, and this I have endeavoured in my case to do. If I | |
remember rightly, you on one occasion, in the early days of our | |
friendship, defined my limits in a very precise fashion." | |
"Yes," I answered, laughing. "It was a singular document. Philosophy, | |
astronomy, and politics were marked at zero, I remember. Botany | |
variable, geology profound as regards the mud-stains from any region | |
within fifty miles of town, chemistry eccentric, anatomy | |
unsystematic, sensational literature and crime records unique, | |
violin-player, boxer, swordsman, lawyer, and self-poisoner by cocaine | |
and tobacco. Those, I think, were the main points of my analysis." | |
Holmes grinned at the last item. "Well," he said, "I say now, as I | |
said then, that a man should keep his little brain-attic stocked with | |
all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest he can put | |
away in the lumber-room of his library, where he can get it if he | |
wants it. Now, for such a case as the one which has been submitted to | |
us to-night, we need certainly to muster all our resources. Kindly | |
hand me down the letter K of the 'American Encyclopaedia' which | |
stands upon the shelf beside you. Thank you. Now let us consider the | |
situation and see what may be deduced from it. In the first place, we | |
may start with a strong presumption that Colonel Openshaw had some | |
very strong reason for leaving America. Men at his time of life do | |
not change all their habits and exchange willingly the charming | |
climate of Florida for the lonely life of an English provincial town. | |
His extreme love of solitude in England suggests the idea that he was | |
in fear of someone or something, so we may assume as a working | |
hypothesis that it was fear of someone or something which drove him | |
from America. As to what it was he feared, we can only deduce that by | |
considering the formidable letters which were received by himself and | |
his successors. Did you remark the postmarks of those letters?" | |
"The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee, and the | |
third from London." | |
"From East London. What do you deduce from that?" | |
"They are all seaports. That the writer was on board of a ship." | |
"Excellent. We have already a clue. There can be no doubt that the | |
probability--the strong probability--is that the writer was on board | |
of a ship. And now let us consider another point. In the case of | |
Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between the threat and its | |
fulfilment, in Dundee it was only some three or four days. Does that | |
suggest anything?" | |
"A greater distance to travel." | |
"But the letter had also a greater distance to come." | |
"Then I do not see the point." | |
"There is at least a presumption that the vessel in which the man or | |
men are is a sailing-ship. It looks as if they always send their | |
singular warning or token before them when starting upon their | |
mission. You see how quickly the deed followed the sign when it came | |
from Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry in a steamer they | |
would have arrived almost as soon as their letter. But, as a matter | |
of fact, seven weeks elapsed. I think that those seven weeks | |
represented the difference between the mail-boat which brought the | |
letter and the sailing vessel which brought the writer." | |
"It is possible." | |
"More than that. It is probable. And now you see the deadly urgency | |
of this new case, and why I urged young Openshaw to caution. The blow | |
has always fallen at the end of the time which it would take the | |
senders to travel the distance. But this one comes from London, and | |
therefore we cannot count upon delay." | |
"Good God!" I cried. "What can it mean, this relentless persecution?" | |
"The papers which Openshaw carried are obviously of vital importance | |
to the person or persons in the sailing-ship. I think that it is | |
quite clear that there must be more than one of them. A single man | |
could not have carried out two deaths in such a way as to deceive a | |
coroner's jury. There must have been several in it, and they must | |
have been men of resource and determination. Their papers they mean | |
to have, be the holder of them who it may. In this way you see K. K. | |
K. ceases to be the initials of an individual and becomes the badge | |
of a society." | |
"But of what society?" | |
"Have you never--" said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward and sinking | |
his voice--"have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan?" | |
"I never have." | |
Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee. "Here it | |
is," said he presently: | |
"'Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to the | |
sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret society was | |
formed by some ex-Confederate soldiers in the Southern states after | |
the Civil War, and it rapidly formed local branches in different | |
parts of the country, notably in Tennessee, Louisiana, the Carolinas, | |
Georgia, and Florida. Its power was used for political purposes, | |
principally for the terrorising of the negro voters and the murdering | |
and driving from the country of those who were opposed to its views. | |
Its outrages were usually preceded by a warning sent to the marked | |
man in some fantastic but generally recognised shape--a sprig of | |
oak-leaves in some parts, melon seeds or orange pips in others. On | |
receiving this the victim might either openly abjure his former ways, | |
or might fly from the country. If he braved the matter out, death | |
would unfailingly come upon him, and usually in some strange and | |
unforeseen manner. So perfect was the organisation of the society, | |
and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a case upon | |
record where any man succeeded in braving it with impunity, or in | |
which any of its outrages were traced home to the perpetrators. For | |
some years the organisation flourished in spite of the efforts of the | |
United States government and of the better classes of the community | |
in the South. Eventually, in the year 1869, the movement rather | |
suddenly collapsed, although there have been sporadic outbreaks of | |
the same sort since that date.' | |
"You will observe," said Holmes, laying down the volume, "that the | |
sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the | |
disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers. It may well | |
have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he and his family | |
have some of the more implacable spirits upon their track. You can | |
understand that this register and diary may implicate some of the | |
first men in the South, and that there may be many who will not sleep | |
easy at night until it is recovered." | |
"Then the page we have seen--" | |
"Is such as we might expect. It ran, if I remember right, 'sent the | |
pips to A, B, and C'--that is, sent the society's warning to them. | |
Then there are successive entries that A and B cleared, or left the | |
country, and finally that C was visited, with, I fear, a sinister | |
result for C. Well, I think, Doctor, that we may let some light into | |
this dark place, and I believe that the only chance young Openshaw | |
has in the meantime is to do what I have told him. There is nothing | |
more to be said or to be done to-night, so hand me over my violin and | |
let us try to forget for half an hour the miserable weather and the | |
still more miserable ways of our fellow-men." | |
It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a subdued | |
brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the great city. | |
Sherlock Holmes was already at breakfast when I came down. | |
"You will excuse me for not waiting for you," said he; "I have, I | |
foresee, a very busy day before me in looking into this case of young | |
Openshaw's." | |
"What steps will you take?" I asked. | |
"It will very much depend upon the results of my first inquiries. I | |
may have to go down to Horsham, after all." | |
"You will not go there first?" | |
"No, I shall commence with the City. Just ring the bell and the maid | |
will bring up your coffee." | |
As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table and | |
glanced my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent a chill | |
to my heart. | |
"Holmes," I cried, "you are too late." | |
"Ah!" said he, laying down his cup, "I feared as much. How was it | |
done?" He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was deeply moved. | |
"My eye caught the name of Openshaw, and the heading 'Tragedy Near | |
Waterloo Bridge.' Here is the account: | |
"Between nine and ten last night Police-Constable Cook, of the H | |
Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and a | |
splash in the water. The night, however, was extremely dark and | |
stormy, so that, in spite of the help of several passers-by, it was | |
quite impossible to effect a rescue. The alarm, however, was given, | |
and, by the aid of the water-police, the body was eventually | |
recovered. It proved to be that of a young gentleman whose name, as | |
it appears from an envelope which was found in his pocket, was John | |
Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham. It is conjectured that | |
he may have been hurrying down to catch the last train from Waterloo | |
Station, and that in his haste and the extreme darkness he missed his | |
path and walked over the edge of one of the small landing-places for | |
river steamboats. The body exhibited no traces of violence, and there | |
can be no doubt that the deceased had been the victim of an | |
unfortunate accident, which should have the effect of calling the | |
attention of the authorities to the condition of the riverside | |
landing-stages." | |
We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed and shaken | |
than I had ever seen him. | |
"That hurts my pride, Watson," he said at last. "It is a petty | |
feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal | |
matter with me now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my hand | |
upon this gang. That he should come to me for help, and that I should | |
send him away to his death--!" He sprang from his chair and paced | |
about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with a flush upon his | |
sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and unclasping of his long thin | |
hands. | |
"They must be cunning devils," he exclaimed at last. "How could they | |
have decoyed him down there? The Embankment is not on the direct line | |
to the station. The bridge, no doubt, was too crowded, even on such a | |
night, for their purpose. Well, Watson, we shall see who will win in | |
the long run. I am going out now!" | |
"To the police?" | |
"No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may take | |
the flies, but not before." | |
All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in the | |
evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had not | |
come back yet. It was nearly ten o'clock before he entered, looking | |
pale and worn. He walked up to the sideboard, and tearing a piece | |
from the loaf he devoured it voraciously, washing it down with a long | |
draught of water. | |
"You are hungry," I remarked. | |
"Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since | |
breakfast." | |
"Nothing?" | |
"Not a bite. I had no time to think of it." | |
"And how have you succeeded?" | |
"Well." | |
"You have a clue?" | |
"I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long | |
remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish | |
trade-mark upon them. It is well thought of!" | |
"What do you mean?" | |
He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he | |
squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and | |
thrust them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote "S. | |
H. for J. O." Then he sealed it and addressed it to "Captain James | |
Calhoun, Barque Lone Star, Savannah, Georgia." | |
"That will await him when he enters port," said he, chuckling. "It | |
may give him a sleepless night. He will find it as sure a precursor | |
of his fate as Openshaw did before him." | |
"And who is this Captain Calhoun?" | |
"The leader of the gang. I shall have the others, but he first." | |
"How did you trace it, then?" | |
He took a large sheet of paper from his pocket, all covered with | |
dates and names. | |
"I have spent the whole day," said he, "over Lloyd's registers and | |
files of the old papers, following the future career of every vessel | |
which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in '83. There | |
were thirty-six ships of fair tonnage which were reported there | |
during those months. Of these, one, the Lone Star, instantly | |
attracted my attention, since, although it was reported as having | |
cleared from London, the name is that which is given to one of the | |
states of the Union." | |
"Texas, I think." | |
"I was not and am not sure which; but I knew that the ship must have | |
an American origin." | |
"What then?" | |
"I searched the Dundee records, and when I found that the barque Lone | |
Star was there in January, '85, my suspicion became a certainty. I | |
then inquired as to the vessels which lay at present in the port of | |
London." | |
"Yes?" | |
"The Lone Star had arrived here last week. I went down to the Albert | |
Dock and found that she had been taken down the river by the early | |
tide this morning, homeward bound to Savannah. I wired to Gravesend | |
and learned that she had passed some time ago, and as the wind is | |
easterly I have no doubt that she is now past the Goodwins and not | |
very far from the Isle of Wight." | |
"What will you do, then?" | |
"Oh, I have my hand upon him. He and the two mates, are as I learn, | |
the only native-born Americans in the ship. The others are Finns and | |
Germans. I know, also, that they were all three away from the ship | |
last night. I had it from the stevedore who has been loading their | |
cargo. By the time that their sailing-ship reaches Savannah the | |
mail-boat will have carried this letter, and the cable will have | |
informed the police of Savannah that these three gentlemen are badly | |
wanted here upon a charge of murder." | |
There is ever a flaw, however, in the best laid of human plans, and | |
the murderers of John Openshaw were never to receive the orange pips | |
which would show them that another, as cunning and as resolute as | |
themselves, was upon their track. Very long and very severe were the | |
equinoctial gales that year. We waited long for news of the Lone Star | |
of Savannah, but none ever reached us. We did at last hear that | |
somewhere far out in the Atlantic a shattered stern-post of a boat | |
was seen swinging in the trough of a wave, with the letters "L. S." | |
carved upon it, and that is all which we shall ever know of the fate | |
of the Lone Star. | |
THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP | |
Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal of | |
the Theological College of St. George's, was much addicted to opium. | |
The habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some foolish freak | |
when he was at college; for having read De Quincey's description of | |
his dreams and sensations, he had drenched his tobacco with laudanum | |
in an attempt to produce the same effects. He found, as so many more | |
have done, that the practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, | |
and for many years he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object | |
of mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives. I can see | |
him now, with yellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point | |
pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble man. | |
One night--it was in June, '89--there came a ring to my bell, about | |
the hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the clock. I | |
sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work down in her lap | |
and made a little face of disappointment. | |
"A patient!" said she. "You'll have to go out." | |
I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day. | |
We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps | |
upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in some | |
dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room. | |
"You will excuse my calling so late," she began, and then, suddenly | |
losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms about my | |
wife's neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. "Oh, I'm in such trouble!" | |
she cried; "I do so want a little help." | |
"Why," said my wife, pulling up her veil, "it is Kate Whitney. How | |
you startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when you came | |
in." | |
"I didn't know what to do, so I came straight to you." That was | |
always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds to | |
a light-house. | |
"It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine and | |
water, and sit here comfortably and tell us all about it. Or should | |
you rather that I sent James off to bed?" | |
"Oh, no, no! I want the doctor's advice and help, too. It's about | |
Isa. He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about | |
him!" | |
It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her husband's | |
trouble, to me as a doctor, to my wife as an old friend and school | |
companion. We soothed and comforted her by such words as we could | |
find. Did she know where her husband was? Was it possible that we | |
could bring him back to her? | |
It seems that it was. She had the surest information that of late he | |
had, when the fit was on him, made use of an opium den in the | |
farthest east of the City. Hitherto his orgies had always been | |
confined to one day, and he had come back, twitching and shattered, | |
in the evening. But now the spell had been upon him eight-and-forty | |
hours, and he lay there, doubtless among the dregs of the docks, | |
breathing in the poison or sleeping off the effects. There he was to | |
be found, she was sure of it, at the Bar of Gold, in Upper Swandam | |
Lane. But what was she to do? How could she, a young and timid woman, | |
make her way into such a place and pluck her husband out from among | |
the ruffians who surrounded him? | |
There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of it. | |
Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second thought, | |
why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney's medical adviser, and | |
as such I had influence over him. I could manage it better if I were | |
alone. I promised her on my word that I would send him home in a cab | |
within two hours if he were indeed at the address which she had given | |
me. And so in ten minutes I had left my armchair and cheery | |
sitting-room behind me, and was speeding eastward in a hansom on a | |
strange errand, as it seemed to me at the time, though the future | |
only could show how strange it was to be. | |
But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my adventure. | |
Upper Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the high wharves | |
which line the north side of the river to the east of London Bridge. | |
Between a slop-shop and a gin-shop, approached by a steep flight of | |
steps leading down to a black gap like the mouth of a cave, I found | |
the den of which I was in search. Ordering my cab to wait, I passed | |
down the steps, worn hollow in the centre by the ceaseless tread of | |
drunken feet; and by the light of a flickering oil-lamp above the | |
door I found the latch and made my way into a long, low room, thick | |
and heavy with the brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden | |
berths, like the forecastle of an emigrant ship. | |
Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying in | |
strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads thrown | |
back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a dark, | |
lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black shadows | |
there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, now faint, | |
as the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of the metal pipes. | |
The most lay silent, but some muttered to themselves, and others | |
talked together in a strange, low, monotonous voice, their | |
conversation coming in gushes, and then suddenly tailing off into | |
silence, each mumbling out his own thoughts and paying little heed to | |
the words of his neighbour. At the farther end was a small brazier of | |
burning charcoal, beside which on a three-legged wooden stool there | |
sat a tall, thin old man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, | |
and his elbows upon his knees, staring into the fire. | |
As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe for | |
me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth. | |
"Thank you. I have not come to stay," said I. "There is a friend of | |
mine here, Mr. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him." | |
There was a movement and an exclamation from my right, and peering | |
through the gloom, I saw Whitney, pale, haggard, and unkempt, staring | |
out at me. | |
"My God! It's Watson," said he. He was in a pitiable state of | |
reaction, with every nerve in a twitter. "I say, Watson, what o'clock | |
is it?" | |
"Nearly eleven." | |
"Of what day?" | |
"Of Friday, June 19th." | |
"Good heavens! I thought it was Wednesday. It is Wednesday. What | |
d'you want to frighten a chap for?" He sank his face onto his arms | |
and began to sob in a high treble key. | |
"I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting this | |
two days for you. You should be ashamed of yourself!" | |
"So I am. But you've got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here a | |
few hours, three pipes, four pipes--I forget how many. But I'll go | |
home with you. I wouldn't frighten Kate--poor little Kate. Give me | |
your hand! Have you a cab?" | |
"Yes, I have one waiting." | |
"Then I shall go in it. But I must owe something. Find what I owe, | |
Watson. I am all off colour. I can do nothing for myself." | |
I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of sleepers, | |
holding my breath to keep out the vile, stupefying fumes of the drug, | |
and looking about for the manager. As I passed the tall man who sat | |
by the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my skirt, and a low voice | |
whispered, "Walk past me, and then look back at me." The words fell | |
quite distinctly upon my ear. I glanced down. They could only have | |
come from the old man at my side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as | |
ever, very thin, very wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling | |
down from between his knees, as though it had dropped in sheer | |
lassitude from his fingers. I took two steps forward and looked back. | |
It took all my self-control to prevent me from breaking out into a | |
cry of astonishment. He had turned his back so that none could see | |
him but I. His form had filled out, his wrinkles were gone, the dull | |
eyes had regained their fire, and there, sitting by the fire and | |
grinning at my surprise, was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He made | |
a slight motion to me to approach him, and instantly, as he turned | |
his face half round to the company once more, subsided into a | |
doddering, loose-lipped senility. | |
"Holmes!" I whispered, "what on earth are you doing in this den?" | |
"As low as you can," he answered; "I have excellent ears. If you | |
would have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend of | |
yours I should be exceedingly glad to have a little talk with you." | |
"I have a cab outside." | |
"Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him, for he | |
appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I should recommend | |
you also to send a note by the cabman to your wife to say that you | |
have thrown in your lot with me. If you will wait outside, I shall be | |
with you in five minutes." | |
It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes' requests, | |
for they were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with | |
such a quiet air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney was | |
once confined in the cab my mission was practically accomplished; and | |
for the rest, I could not wish anything better than to be associated | |
with my friend in one of those singular adventures which were the | |
normal condition of his existence. In a few minutes I had written my | |
note, paid Whitney's bill, led him out to the cab, and seen him | |
driven through the darkness. In a very short time a decrepit figure | |
had emerged from the opium den, and I was walking down the street | |
with Sherlock Holmes. For two streets he shuffled along with a bent | |
back and an uncertain foot. Then, glancing quickly round, he | |
straightened himself out and burst into a hearty fit of laughter. | |
"I suppose, Watson," said he, "that you imagine that I have added | |
opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little | |
weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical views." | |
"I was certainly surprised to find you there." | |
"But not more so than I to find you." | |
"I came to find a friend." | |
"And I to find an enemy." | |
"An enemy?" | |
"Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural prey. | |
Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable inquiry, and | |
I have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent ramblings of these | |
sots, as I have done before now. Had I been recognised in that den my | |
life would not have been worth an hour's purchase; for I have used it | |
before now for my own purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it | |
has sworn to have vengeance upon me. There is a trap-door at the back | |
of that building, near the corner of Paul's Wharf, which could tell | |
some strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless | |
nights." | |
"What! You do not mean bodies?" | |
"Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had ÂŁ1000 for every | |
poor devil who has been done to death in that den. It is the vilest | |
murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I fear that Neville St. Clair | |
has entered it never to leave it more. But our trap should be here." | |
He put his two forefingers between his teeth and whistled shrilly--a | |
signal which was answered by a similar whistle from the distance, | |
followed shortly by the rattle of wheels and the clink of horses' | |
hoofs. | |
"Now, Watson," said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through the | |
gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from its side | |
lanterns. "You'll come with me, won't you?" | |
"If I can be of use." | |
"Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler still more | |
so. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one." | |
"The Cedars?" | |
"Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair's house. I am staying there while I | |
conduct the inquiry." | |
"Where is it, then?" | |
"Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us." | |
"But I am all in the dark." | |
"Of course you are. You'll know all about it presently. Jump up here. | |
All right, John; we shall not need you. Here's half a crown. Look out | |
for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her head. So long, then!" | |
He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away through the | |
endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, which widened | |
gradually, until we were flying across a broad balustraded bridge, | |
with the murky river flowing sluggishly beneath us. Beyond lay | |
another dull wilderness of bricks and mortar, its silence broken only | |
by the heavy, regular footfall of the policeman, or the songs and | |
shouts of some belated party of revellers. A dull wrack was drifting | |
slowly across the sky, and a star or two twinkled dimly here and | |
there through the rifts of the clouds. Holmes drove in silence, with | |
his head sunk upon his breast, and the air of a man who is lost in | |
thought, while I sat beside him, curious to learn what this new quest | |
might be which seemed to tax his powers so sorely, and yet afraid to | |
break in upon the current of his thoughts. We had driven several | |
miles, and were beginning to get to the fringe of the belt of | |
suburban villas, when he shook himself, shrugged his shoulders, and | |
lit up his pipe with the air of a man who has satisfied himself that | |
he is acting for the best. | |
"You have a grand gift of silence, Watson," said he. "It makes you | |
quite invaluable as a companion. 'Pon my word, it is a great thing | |
for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are not | |
over-pleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dear little | |
woman to-night when she meets me at the door." | |
"You forget that I know nothing about it." | |
"I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before we | |
get to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow I can get | |
nothing to go upon. There's plenty of thread, no doubt, but I can't | |
get the end of it into my hand. Now, I'll state the case clearly and | |
concisely to you, Watson, and maybe you can see a spark where all is | |
dark to me." | |
"Proceed, then." | |
"Some years ago--to be definite, in May, 1884--there came to Lee a | |
gentleman, Neville St. Clair by name, who appeared to have plenty of | |
money. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very nicely, and | |
lived generally in good style. By degrees he made friends in the | |
neighbourhood, and in 1887 he married the daughter of a local brewer, | |
by whom he now has two children. He had no occupation, but was | |
interested in several companies and went into town as a rule in the | |
morning, returning by the 5.14 from Cannon Street every night. Mr. | |
St. Clair is now thirty-seven years of age, is a man of temperate | |
habits, a good husband, a very affectionate father, and a man who is | |
popular with all who know him. I may add that his whole debts at the | |
present moment, as far as we have been able to ascertain, amount to | |
ÂŁ88 10s., while he has ÂŁ220 standing to his credit in the Capital and | |
Counties Bank. There is no reason, therefore, to think that money | |
troubles have been weighing upon his mind. | |
"Last Monday Mr. Neville St. Clair went into town rather earlier than | |
usual, remarking before he started that he had two important | |
commissions to perform, and that he would bring his little boy home a | |
box of bricks. Now, by the merest chance, his wife received a | |
telegram upon this same Monday, very shortly after his departure, to | |
the effect that a small parcel of considerable value which she had | |
been expecting was waiting for her at the offices of the Aberdeen | |
Shipping Company. Now, if you are well up in your London, you will | |
know that the office of the company is in Fresno Street, which | |
branches out of Upper Swandam Lane, where you found me to-night. Mrs. | |
St. Clair had her lunch, started for the City, did some shopping, | |
proceeded to the company's office, got her packet, and found herself | |
at exactly 4.35 walking through Swandam Lane on her way back to the | |
station. Have you followed me so far?" | |
"It is very clear." | |
"If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St. | |
Clair walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab, as | |
she did not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself. While | |
she was walking in this way down Swandam Lane, she suddenly heard an | |
ejaculation or cry, and was struck cold to see her husband looking | |
down at her and, as it seemed to her, beckoning to her from a | |
second-floor window. The window was open, and she distinctly saw his | |
face, which she describes as being terribly agitated. He waved his | |
hands frantically to her, and then vanished from the window so | |
suddenly that it seemed to her that he had been plucked back by some | |
irresistible force from behind. One singular point which struck her | |
quick feminine eye was that although he wore some dark coat, such as | |
he had started to town in, he had on neither collar nor necktie. | |
"Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the | |
steps--for the house was none other than the opium den in which you | |
found me to-night--and running through the front room she attempted | |
to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At the foot of the | |
stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of whom I have spoken, | |
who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who acts as assistant | |
there, pushed her out into the street. Filled with the most maddening | |
doubts and fears, she rushed down the lane and, by rare good-fortune, | |
met in Fresno Street a number of constables with an inspector, all on | |
their way to their beat. The inspector and two men accompanied her | |
back, and in spite of the continued resistance of the proprietor, | |
they made their way to the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been | |
seen. There was no sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that | |
floor there was no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous | |
aspect, who, it seems, made his home there. Both he and the Lascar | |
stoutly swore that no one else had been in the front room during the | |
afternoon. So determined was their denial that the inspector was | |
staggered, and had almost come to believe that Mrs. St. Clair had | |
been deluded when, with a cry, she sprang at a small deal box which | |
lay upon the table and tore the lid from it. Out there fell a cascade | |
of children's bricks. It was the toy which he had promised to bring | |
home. | |
"This discovery, and the evident confusion which the cripple showed, | |
made the inspector realise that the matter was serious. The rooms | |
were carefully examined, and results all pointed to an abominable | |
crime. The front room was plainly furnished as a sitting-room and led | |
into a small bedroom, which looked out upon the back of one of the | |
wharves. Between the wharf and the bedroom window is a narrow strip, | |
which is dry at low tide but is covered at high tide with at least | |
four and a half feet of water. The bedroom window was a broad one and | |
opened from below. On examination traces of blood were to be seen | |
upon the windowsill, and several scattered drops were visible upon | |
the wooden floor of the bedroom. Thrust away behind a curtain in the | |
front room were all the clothes of Mr. Neville St. Clair, with the | |
exception of his coat. His boots, his socks, his hat, and his | |
watch--all were there. There were no signs of violence upon any of | |
these garments, and there were no other traces of Mr. Neville St. | |
Clair. Out of the window he must apparently have gone for no other | |
exit could be discovered, and the ominous bloodstains upon the sill | |
gave little promise that he could save himself by swimming, for the | |
tide was at its very highest at the moment of the tragedy. | |
"And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediately implicated | |
in the matter. The Lascar was known to be a man of the vilest | |
antecedents, but as, by Mrs. St. Clair's story, he was known to have | |
been at the foot of the stair within a very few seconds of her | |
husband's appearance at the window, he could hardly have been more | |
than an accessory to the crime. His defence was one of absolute | |
ignorance, and he protested that he had no knowledge as to the doings | |
of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and that he could not account in any way | |
for the presence of the missing gentleman's clothes. | |
"So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinister cripple who | |
lives upon the second floor of the opium den, and who was certainly | |
the last human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St. Clair. His | |
name is Hugh Boone, and his hideous face is one which is familiar to | |
every man who goes much to the City. He is a professional beggar, | |
though in order to avoid the police regulations he pretends to a | |
small trade in wax vestas. Some little distance down Threadneedle | |
Street, upon the left-hand side, there is, as you may have remarked, | |
a small angle in the wall. Here it is that this creature takes his | |
daily seat, cross-legged with his tiny stock of matches on his lap, | |
and as he is a piteous spectacle a small rain of charity descends | |
into the greasy leather cap which lies upon the pavement beside him. | |
I have watched the fellow more than once before ever I thought of | |
making his professional acquaintance, and I have been surprised at | |
the harvest which he has reaped in a short time. His appearance, you | |
see, is so remarkable that no one can pass him without observing him. | |
A shock of orange hair, a pale face disfigured by a horrible scar, | |
which, by its contraction, has turned up the outer edge of his upper | |
lip, a bulldog chin, and a pair of very penetrating dark eyes, which | |
present a singular contrast to the colour of his hair, all mark him | |
out from amid the common crowd of mendicants and so, too, does his | |
wit, for he is ever ready with a reply to any piece of chaff which | |
may be thrown at him by the passers-by. This is the man whom we now | |
learn to have been the lodger at the opium den, and to have been the | |
last man to see the gentleman of whom we are in quest." | |
"But a cripple!" said I. "What could he have done single-handed | |
against a man in the prime of life?" | |
"He is a cripple in the sense that he walks with a limp; but in other | |
respects he appears to be a powerful and well-nurtured man. Surely | |
your medical experience would tell you, Watson, that weakness in one | |
limb is often compensated for by exceptional strength in the others." | |
"Pray continue your narrative." | |
"Mrs. St. Clair had fainted at the sight of the blood upon the | |
window, and she was escorted home in a cab by the police, as her | |
presence could be of no help to them in their investigations. | |
Inspector Barton, who had charge of the case, made a very careful | |
examination of the premises, but without finding anything which threw | |
any light upon the matter. One mistake had been made in not arresting | |
Boone instantly, as he was allowed some few minutes during which he | |
might have communicated with his friend the Lascar, but this fault | |
was soon remedied, and he was seized and searched, without anything | |
being found which could incriminate him. There were, it is true, some | |
blood-stains upon his right shirt-sleeve, but he pointed to his | |
ring-finger, which had been cut near the nail, and explained that the | |
bleeding came from there, adding that he had been to the window not | |
long before, and that the stains which had been observed there came | |
doubtless from the same source. He denied strenuously having ever | |
seen Mr. Neville St. Clair and swore that the presence of the clothes | |
in his room was as much a mystery to him as to the police. As to Mrs. | |
St. Clair's assertion that she had actually seen her husband at the | |
window, he declared that she must have been either mad or dreaming. | |
He was removed, loudly protesting, to the police-station, while the | |
inspector remained upon the premises in the hope that the ebbing tide | |
might afford some fresh clue. | |
"And it did, though they hardly found upon the mud-bank what they had | |
feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair's coat, and not Neville St. | |
Clair, which lay uncovered as the tide receded. And what do you think | |
they found in the pockets?" | |
"I cannot imagine." | |
"No, I don't think you would guess. Every pocket stuffed with pennies | |
and half-pennies--421 pennies and 270 half-pennies. It was no wonder | |
that it had not been swept away by the tide. But a human body is a | |
different matter. There is a fierce eddy between the wharf and the | |
house. It seemed likely enough that the weighted coat had remained | |
when the stripped body had been sucked away into the river." | |
"But I understand that all the other clothes were found in the room. | |
Would the body be dressed in a coat alone?" | |
"No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose that | |
this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the window, there | |
is no human eye which could have seen the deed. What would he do | |
then? It would of course instantly strike him that he must get rid of | |
the tell-tale garments. He would seize the coat, then, and be in the | |
act of throwing it out, when it would occur to him that it would swim | |
and not sink. He has little time, for he has heard the scuffle | |
downstairs when the wife tried to force her way up, and perhaps he | |
has already heard from his Lascar confederate that the police are | |
hurrying up the street. There is not an instant to be lost. He rushes | |
to some secret hoard, where he has accumulated the fruits of his | |
beggary, and he stuffs all the coins upon which he can lay his hands | |
into the pockets to make sure of the coat's sinking. He throws it | |
out, and would have done the same with the other garments had not he | |
heard the rush of steps below, and only just had time to close the | |
window when the police appeared." | |
"It certainly sounds feasible." | |
"Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a better. | |
Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the station, but | |
it could not be shown that there had ever before been anything | |
against him. He had for years been known as a professional beggar, | |
but his life appeared to have been a very quiet and innocent one. | |
There the matter stands at present, and the questions which have to | |
be solved--what Neville St. Clair was doing in the opium den, what | |
happened to him when there, where is he now, and what Hugh Boone had | |
to do with his disappearance--are all as far from a solution as ever. | |
I confess that I cannot recall any case within my experience which | |
looked at the first glance so simple and yet which presented such | |
difficulties." | |
While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series of | |
events, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great town | |
until the last straggling houses had been left behind, and we rattled | |
along with a country hedge upon either side of us. Just as he | |
finished, however, we drove through two scattered villages, where a | |
few lights still glimmered in the windows. | |
"We are on the outskirts of Lee," said my companion. "We have touched | |
on three English counties in our short drive, starting in Middlesex, | |
passing over an angle of Surrey, and ending in Kent. See that light | |
among the trees? That is The Cedars, and beside that lamp sits a | |
woman whose anxious ears have already, I have little doubt, caught | |
the clink of our horse's feet." | |
"But why are you not conducting the case from Baker Street?" I asked. | |
"Because there are many inquiries which must be made out here. Mrs. | |
St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal, and you may | |
rest assured that she will have nothing but a welcome for my friend | |
and colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have no news of her | |
husband. Here we are. Whoa, there, whoa!" | |
We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stood within its own | |
grounds. A stable-boy had run out to the horse's head, and springing | |
down, I followed Holmes up the small, winding gravel-drive which led | |
to the house. As we approached, the door flew open, and a little | |
blonde woman stood in the opening, clad in some sort of light | |
mousseline de soie, with a touch of fluffy pink chiffon at her neck | |
and wrists. She stood with her figure outlined against the flood of | |
light, one hand upon the door, one half-raised in her eagerness, her | |
body slightly bent, her head and face protruded, with eager eyes and | |
parted lips, a standing question. | |
"Well?" she cried, "well?" And then, seeing that there were two of | |
us, she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw that my | |
companion shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. | |
"No good news?" | |
"None." | |
"No bad?" | |
"No." | |
"Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary, for you have had | |
a long day." | |
"This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to me | |
in several of my cases, and a lucky chance has made it possible for | |
me to bring him out and associate him with this investigation." | |
"I am delighted to see you," said she, pressing my hand warmly. "You | |
will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our | |
arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so suddenly | |
upon us." | |
"My dear madam," said I, "I am an old campaigner, and if I were not I | |
can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of any | |
assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be indeed | |
happy." | |
"Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said the lady as we entered a well-lit | |
dining-room, upon the table of which a cold supper had been laid out, | |
"I should very much like to ask you one or two plain questions, to | |
which I beg that you will give a plain answer." | |
"Certainly, madam." | |
"Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given to | |
fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion." | |
"Upon what point?" | |
"In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive?" | |
Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question. "Frankly, | |
now!" she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking keenly down at | |
him as he leaned back in a basket-chair. | |
"Frankly, then, madam, I do not." | |
"You think that he is dead?" | |
"I do." | |
"Murdered?" | |
"I don't say that. Perhaps." | |
"And on what day did he meet his death?" | |
"On Monday." | |
"Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how it | |
is that I have received a letter from him to-day." | |
Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he had been galvanised. | |
"What!" he roared. | |
"Yes, to-day." She stood smiling, holding up a little slip of paper | |
in the air. | |
"May I see it?" | |
"Certainly." | |
He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out upon | |
the table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I had left | |
my chair and was gazing at it over his shoulder. The envelope was a | |
very coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend postmark and with | |
the date of that very day, or rather of the day before, for it was | |
considerably after midnight. | |
"Coarse writing," murmured Holmes. "Surely this is not your husband's | |
writing, madam." | |
"No, but the enclosure is." | |
"I perceive also that whoever addressed the envelope had to go and | |
inquire as to the address." | |
"How can you tell that?" | |
"The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, which has dried | |
itself. The rest is of the greyish colour, which shows that | |
blotting-paper has been used. If it had been written straight off, | |
and then blotted, none would be of a deep black shade. This man has | |
written the name, and there has then been a pause before he wrote the | |
address, which can only mean that he was not familiar with it. It is, | |
of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles. | |
Let us now see the letter. Ha! there has been an enclosure here!" | |
"Yes, there was a ring. His signet-ring." | |
"And you are sure that this is your husband's hand?" | |
"One of his hands." | |
"One?" | |
"His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlike his usual | |
writing, and yet I know it well." | |
"Dearest do not be frightened. All will come well. There is a huge | |
error which it may take some little time to rectify. Wait in | |
patience. | |
"Neville. | |
Written in pencil upon the fly-leaf of a book, octavo size, no | |
water-mark. Hum! Posted to-day in Gravesend by a man with a dirty | |
thumb. Ha! And the flap has been gummed, if I am not very much in | |
error, by a person who had been chewing tobacco. And you have no | |
doubt that it is your husband's hand, madam?" | |
"None. Neville wrote those words." | |
"And they were posted to-day at Gravesend. Well, Mrs. St. Clair, the | |
clouds lighten, though I should not venture to say that the danger is | |
over." | |
"But he must be alive, Mr. Holmes." | |
"Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent. The | |
ring, after all, proves nothing. It may have been taken from him." | |
"No, no; it is, it is his very own writing!" | |
"Very well. It may, however, have been written on Monday and only | |
posted to-day." | |
"That is possible." | |
"If so, much may have happened between." | |
"Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes. I know that all is well | |
with him. There is so keen a sympathy between us that I should know | |
if evil came upon him. On the very day that I saw him last he cut | |
himself in the bedroom, and yet I in the dining-room rushed upstairs | |
instantly with the utmost certainty that something had happened. Do | |
you think that I would respond to such a trifle and yet be ignorant | |
of his death?" | |
"I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman may | |
be more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical reasoner. And | |
in this letter you certainly have a very strong piece of evidence to | |
corroborate your view. But if your husband is alive and able to write | |
letters, why should he remain away from you?" | |
"I cannot imagine. It is unthinkable." | |
"And on Monday he made no remarks before leaving you?" | |
"No." | |
"And you were surprised to see him in Swandam Lane?" | |
"Very much so." | |
"Was the window open?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Then he might have called to you?" | |
"He might." | |
"He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry?" | |
"Yes." | |
"A call for help, you thought?" | |
"Yes. He waved his hands." | |
"But it might have been a cry of surprise. Astonishment at the | |
unexpected sight of you might cause him to throw up his hands?" | |
"It is possible." | |
"And you thought he was pulled back?" | |
"He disappeared so suddenly." | |
"He might have leaped back. You did not see anyone else in the room?" | |
"No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and the | |
Lascar was at the foot of the stairs." | |
"Quite so. Your husband, as far as you could see, had his ordinary | |
clothes on?" | |
"But without his collar or tie. I distinctly saw his bare throat." | |
"Had he ever spoken of Swandam Lane?" | |
"Never." | |
"Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium?" | |
"Never." | |
"Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. Those are the principal points about | |
which I wished to be absolutely clear. We shall now have a little | |
supper and then retire, for we may have a very busy day to-morrow." | |
A large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our | |
disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary after | |
my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, who, when | |
he had an unsolved problem upon his mind, would go for days, and even | |
for a week, without rest, turning it over, rearranging his facts, | |
looking at it from every point of view until he had either fathomed | |
it or convinced himself that his data were insufficient. It was soon | |
evident to me that he was now preparing for an all-night sitting. He | |
took off his coat and waistcoat, put on a large blue dressing-gown, | |
and then wandered about the room collecting pillows from his bed and | |
cushions from the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a | |
sort of Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself cross-legged, | |
with an ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front | |
of him. In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an old | |
briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner | |
of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, | |
motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set aquiline | |
features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he sat when a | |
sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up, and I found the summer sun | |
shining into the apartment. The pipe was still between his lips, the | |
smoke still curled upward, and the room was full of a dense tobacco | |
haze, but nothing remained of the heap of shag which I had seen upon | |
the previous night. | |
"Awake, Watson?" he asked. | |
"Yes." | |
"Game for a morning drive?" | |
"Certainly." | |
"Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know where the stable-boy | |
sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out." He chuckled to himself | |
as he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed a different man to the | |
sombre thinker of the previous night. | |
As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one was | |
stirring. It was twenty-five minutes past four. I had hardly finished | |
when Holmes returned with the news that the boy was putting in the | |
horse. | |
"I want to test a little theory of mine," said he, pulling on his | |
boots. "I think, Watson, that you are now standing in the presence of | |
one of the most absolute fools in Europe. I deserve to be kicked from | |
here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the key of the affair now." | |
"And where is it?" I asked, smiling. | |
"In the bathroom," he answered. "Oh, yes, I am not joking," he | |
continued, seeing my look of incredulity. "I have just been there, | |
and I have taken it out, and I have got it in this Gladstone bag. | |
Come on, my boy, and we shall see whether it will not fit the lock." | |
We made our way downstairs as quietly as possible, and out into the | |
bright morning sunshine. In the road stood our horse and trap, with | |
the half-clad stable-boy waiting at the head. We both sprang in, and | |
away we dashed down the London Road. A few country carts were | |
stirring, bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but the lines of | |
villas on either side were as silent and lifeless as some city in a | |
dream. | |
"It has been in some points a singular case," said Holmes, flicking | |
the horse on into a gallop. "I confess that I have been as blind as a | |
mole, but it is better to learn wisdom late than never to learn it at | |
all." | |
In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily from | |
their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey side. | |
Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the river, and | |
dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the right and found | |
ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known to the force, | |
and the two constables at the door saluted him. One of them held the | |
horse's head while the other led us in. | |
"Who is on duty?" asked Holmes. | |
"Inspector Bradstreet, sir." | |
"Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?" A tall, stout official had come down | |
the stone-flagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged jacket. "I | |
wish to have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet." "Certainly, Mr. | |
Holmes. Step into my room here." It was a small, office-like room, | |
with a huge ledger upon the table, and a telephone projecting from | |
the wall. The inspector sat down at his desk. | |
"What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"I called about that beggarman, Boone--the one who was charged with | |
being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. Clair, of | |
Lee." | |
"Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries." | |
"So I heard. You have him here?" | |
"In the cells." | |
"Is he quiet?" | |
"Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel." | |
"Dirty?" | |
"Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his face is | |
as black as a tinker's. Well, when once his case has been settled, he | |
will have a regular prison bath; and I think, if you saw him, you | |
would agree with me that he needed it." | |
"I should like to see him very much." | |
"Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave your | |
bag." | |
"No, I think that I'll take it." | |
"Very good. Come this way, if you please." He led us down a passage, | |
opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and brought us to | |
a whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each side. | |
"The third on the right is his," said the inspector. "Here it is!" He | |
quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door and glanced | |
through. | |
"He is asleep," said he. "You can see him very well." | |
We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his face | |
towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and heavily. He | |
was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his calling, with a | |
coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat. He | |
was, as the inspector had said, extremely dirty, but the grime which | |
covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness. A broad | |
wheal from an old scar ran right across it from eye to chin, and by | |
its contraction had turned up one side of the upper lip, so that | |
three teeth were exposed in a perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright | |
red hair grew low over his eyes and forehead. | |
"He's a beauty, isn't he?" said the inspector. | |
"He certainly needs a wash," remarked Holmes. "I had an idea that he | |
might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me." He | |
opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my | |
astonishment, a very large bath-sponge. | |
"He! he! You are a funny one," chuckled the inspector. | |
"Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very | |
quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable figure." | |
"Well, I don't know why not," said the inspector. "He doesn't look a | |
credit to the Bow Street cells, does he?" He slipped his key into the | |
lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The sleeper half | |
turned, and then settled down once more into a deep slumber. Holmes | |
stooped to the water-jug, moistened his sponge, and then rubbed it | |
twice vigorously across and down the prisoner's face. | |
"Let me introduce you," he shouted, "to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of | |
Lee, in the county of Kent." | |
Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man's face peeled off | |
under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the coarse brown | |
tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had seamed it across, and | |
the twisted lip which had given the repulsive sneer to the face! A | |
twitch brought away the tangled red hair, and there, sitting up in | |
his bed, was a pale, sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and | |
smooth-skinned, rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy | |
bewilderment. Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a | |
scream and threw himself down with his face to the pillow. | |
"Great heavens!" cried the inspector, "it is, indeed, the missing | |
man. I know him from the photograph." | |
The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons | |
himself to his destiny. "Be it so," said he. "And pray what am I | |
charged with?" | |
"With making away with Mr. Neville St.--Oh, come, you can't be | |
charged with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of | |
it," said the inspector with a grin. "Well, I have been twenty-seven | |
years in the force, but this really takes the cake." | |
"If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious that no crime has | |
been committed, and that, therefore, I am illegally detained." | |
"No crime, but a very great error has been committed," said Holmes. | |
"You would have done better to have trusted your wife." | |
"It was not the wife; it was the children," groaned the prisoner. | |
"God help me, I would not have them ashamed of their father. My God! | |
What an exposure! What can I do?" | |
Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couch and patted him | |
kindly on the shoulder. | |
"If you leave it to a court of law to clear the matter up," said he, | |
"of course you can hardly avoid publicity. On the other hand, if you | |
convince the police authorities that there is no possible case | |
against you, I do not know that there is any reason that the details | |
should find their way into the papers. Inspector Bradstreet would, I | |
am sure, make notes upon anything which you might tell us and submit | |
it to the proper authorities. The case would then never go into court | |
at all." | |
"God bless you!" cried the prisoner passionately. "I would have | |
endured imprisonment, ay, even execution, rather than have left my | |
miserable secret as a family blot to my children. | |
"You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father was a | |
schoolmaster in Chesterfield, where I received an excellent | |
education. I travelled in my youth, took to the stage, and finally | |
became a reporter on an evening paper in London. One day my editor | |
wished to have a series of articles upon begging in the metropolis, | |
and I volunteered to supply them. There was the point from which all | |
my adventures started. It was only by trying begging as an amateur | |
that I could get the facts upon which to base my articles. When an | |
actor I had, of course, learned all the secrets of making up, and had | |
been famous in the green-room for my skill. I took advantage now of | |
my attainments. I painted my face, and to make myself as pitiable as | |
possible I made a good scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist | |
by the aid of a small slip of flesh-coloured plaster. Then with a red | |
head of hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the | |
business part of the city, ostensibly as a match-seller but really as | |
a beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned home | |
in the evening I found to my surprise that I had received no less | |
than 26s. 4d. | |
"I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until, | |
some time later, I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ served | |
upon me for ÂŁ25. I was at my wit's end where to get the money, but a | |
sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight's grace from the | |
creditor, asked for a holiday from my employers, and spent the time | |
in begging in the City under my disguise. In ten days I had the money | |
and had paid the debt. | |
"Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to arduous work | |
at ÂŁ2 a week when I knew that I could earn as much in a day by | |
smearing my face with a little paint, laying my cap on the ground, | |
and sitting still. It was a long fight between my pride and the | |
money, but the dollars won at last, and I threw up reporting and sat | |
day after day in the corner which I had first chosen, inspiring pity | |
by my ghastly face and filling my pockets with coppers. Only one man | |
knew my secret. He was the keeper of a low den in which I used to | |
lodge in Swandam Lane, where I could every morning emerge as a | |
squalid beggar and in the evenings transform myself into a | |
well-dressed man about town. This fellow, a Lascar, was well paid by | |
me for his rooms, so that I knew that my secret was safe in his | |
possession. | |
"Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of | |
money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London could | |
earn ÂŁ700 a year--which is less than my average takings--but I had | |
exceptional advantages in my power of making up, and also in a | |
facility of repartee, which improved by practice and made me quite a | |
recognised character in the City. All day a stream of pennies, varied | |
by silver, poured in upon me, and it was a very bad day in which I | |
failed to take ÂŁ2. | |
"As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the country, | |
and eventually married, without anyone having a suspicion as to my | |
real occupation. My dear wife knew that I had business in the City. | |
She little knew what. | |
"Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in my room | |
above the opium den when I looked out of my window and saw, to my | |
horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the street, | |
with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of surprise, threw up | |
my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my confidant, the Lascar, | |
entreated him to prevent anyone from coming up to me. I heard her | |
voice downstairs, but I knew that she could not ascend. Swiftly I | |
threw off my clothes, pulled on those of a beggar, and put on my | |
pigments and wig. Even a wife's eyes could not pierce so complete a | |
disguise. But then it occurred to me that there might be a search in | |
the room, and that the clothes might betray me. I threw open the | |
window, reopening by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted | |
upon myself in the bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which | |
was weighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it from | |
the leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of the | |
window, and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes would | |
have followed, but at that moment there was a rush of constables up | |
the stair, and a few minutes after I found, rather, I confess, to my | |
relief, that instead of being identified as Mr. Neville St. Clair, I | |
was arrested as his murderer. | |
"I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. I was | |
determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and hence my | |
preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would be terribly | |
anxious, I slipped off my ring and confided it to the Lascar at a | |
moment when no constable was watching me, together with a hurried | |
scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to fear." | |
"That note only reached her yesterday," said Holmes. | |
"Good God! What a week she must have spent!" | |
"The police have watched this Lascar," said Inspector Bradstreet, | |
"and I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to post a | |
letter unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor customer of | |
his, who forgot all about it for some days." | |
"That was it," said Holmes, nodding approvingly; "I have no doubt of | |
it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging?" | |
"Many times; but what was a fine to me?" | |
"It must stop here, however," said Bradstreet. "If the police are to | |
hush this thing up, there must be no more of Hugh Boone." | |
"I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man can take." | |
"In that case I think that it is probable that no further steps may | |
be taken. But if you are found again, then all must come out. I am | |
sure, Mr. Holmes, that we are very much indebted to you for having | |
cleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your results." | |
"I reached this one," said my friend, "by sitting upon five pillows | |
and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if we drive to | |
Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE | |
I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning | |
after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of | |
the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, | |
a pipe-rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled | |
morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the | |
couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very | |
seedy and disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and | |
cracked in several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat | |
of the chair suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner | |
for the purpose of examination. | |
"You are engaged," said I; "perhaps I interrupt you." | |
"Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my | |
results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one"--he jerked his thumb | |
in the direction of the old hat--"but there are points in connection | |
with it which are not entirely devoid of interest and even of | |
instruction." | |
I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his | |
crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were | |
thick with the ice crystals. "I suppose," I remarked, "that, homely | |
as it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it--that | |
it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery | |
and the punishment of some crime." | |
"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Only one of | |
those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four | |
million human beings all jostling each other within the space of a | |
few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of | |
humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to | |
take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be | |
striking and bizarre without being criminal. We have already had | |
experience of such." | |
"So much so," I remarked, "that of the last six cases which I have | |
added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any legal crime." | |
"Precisely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler | |
papers, to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the | |
adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that | |
this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. You know | |
Peterson, the commissionaire?" | |
"Yes." | |
"It is to him that this trophy belongs." | |
"It is his hat." | |
"No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look | |
upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual problem. | |
And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas | |
morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, | |
roasting at this moment in front of Peterson's fire. The facts are | |
these: about four o'clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you | |
know, is a very honest fellow, was returning from some small | |
jollification and was making his way homeward down Tottenham Court | |
Road. In front of him he saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking | |
with a slight stagger, and carrying a white goose slung over his | |
shoulder. As he reached the corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out | |
between this stranger and a little knot of roughs. One of the latter | |
knocked off the man's hat, on which he raised his stick to defend | |
himself and, swinging it over his head, smashed the shop window | |
behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from | |
his assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and | |
seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, | |
dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished amid the labyrinth | |
of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road. The | |
roughs had also fled at the appearance of Peterson, so that he was | |
left in possession of the field of battle, and also of the spoils of | |
victory in the shape of this battered hat and a most unimpeachable | |
Christmas goose." | |
"Which surely he restored to their owner?" | |
"My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that 'For Mrs. | |
Henry Baker' was printed upon a small card which was tied to the | |
bird's left leg, and it is also true that the initials 'H. B.' are | |
legible upon the lining of this hat, but as there are some thousands | |
of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it | |
is not easy to restore lost property to any one of them." | |
"What, then, did Peterson do?" | |
"He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, | |
knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The | |
goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in | |
spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten | |
without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, | |
to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain | |
the hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner." | |
"Did he not advertise?" | |
"No." | |
"Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?" | |
"Only as much as we can deduce." | |
"From his hat?" | |
"Precisely." | |
"But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered | |
felt?" | |
"Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather yourself | |
as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?" | |
I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather | |
ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round shape, | |
hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of red silk, | |
but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker's name; but, as | |
Holmes had remarked, the initials "H. B." were scrawled upon one | |
side. It was pierced in the brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic | |
was missing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, and | |
spotted in several places, although there seemed to have been some | |
attempt to hide the discoloured patches by smearing them with ink. | |
"I can see nothing," said I, handing it back to my friend. | |
"On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, | |
to reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your | |
inferences." | |
"Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat?" | |
He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion | |
which was characteristic of him. "It is perhaps less suggestive than | |
it might have been," he remarked, "and yet there are a few inferences | |
which are very distinct, and a few others which represent at least a | |
strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual | |
is of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly | |
well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen | |
upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, | |
pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline | |
of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably | |
drink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact | |
that his wife has ceased to love him." | |
"My dear Holmes!" | |
"He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect," he | |
continued, disregarding my remonstrance. "He is a man who leads a | |
sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is | |
middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last | |
few days, and which he anoints with lime-cream. These are the more | |
patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat. Also, by the way, | |
that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his | |
house." | |
"You are certainly joking, Holmes." | |
"Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you | |
these results, you are unable to see how they are attained?" | |
"I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I am | |
unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man | |
was intellectual?" | |
For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over | |
the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is a | |
question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man with so large a brain | |
must have something in it." | |
"The decline of his fortunes, then?" | |
"This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge | |
came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band | |
of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to | |
buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, | |
then he has assuredly gone down in the world." | |
"Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight | |
and the moral retrogression?" | |
Sherlock Holmes laughed. "Here is the foresight," said he putting his | |
finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. "They are | |
never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a | |
certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take | |
this precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken | |
the elastic and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he | |
has less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a | |
weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal | |
some of these stains upon the felt by daubing them with ink, which is | |
a sign that he has not entirely lost his self-respect." | |
"Your reasoning is certainly plausible." | |
"The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is | |
grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime-cream, | |
are all to be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of | |
the lining. The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut | |
by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and | |
there is a distinct odour of lime-cream. This dust, you will observe, | |
is not the gritty, grey dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust | |
of the house, showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the | |
time, while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive | |
that the wearer perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly be | |
in the best of training." | |
"But his wife--you said that she had ceased to love him." | |
"This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear | |
Watson, with a week's accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when | |
your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you | |
also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection." | |
"But he might be a bachelor." | |
"Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace-offering to his wife. | |
Remember the card upon the bird's leg." | |
"You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce | |
that the gas is not laid on in his house?" | |
"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see | |
no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the | |
individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning | |
tallow--walks upstairs at night probably with his hat in one hand and | |
a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow-stains | |
from a gas-jet. Are you satisfied?" | |
"Well, it is very ingenious," said I, laughing; "but since, as you | |
said just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm done | |
save the loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a waste of | |
energy." | |
Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew | |
open, and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment | |
with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with | |
astonishment. | |
"The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!" he gasped. | |
"Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off | |
through the kitchen window?" Holmes twisted himself round upon the | |
sofa to get a fairer view of the man's excited face. | |
"See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop!" He held out his | |
hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly | |
scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but of | |
such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in | |
the dark hollow of his hand. | |
Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. "By Jove, Peterson!" said he, | |
"this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you have | |
got?" | |
"A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though it | |
were putty." | |
"It's more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone." | |
"Not the Countess of Morcar's blue carbuncle!" I ejaculated. | |
"Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I have | |
read the advertisement about it in The Times every day lately. It is | |
absolutely unique, and its value can only be conjectured, but the | |
reward offered of ÂŁ1000 is certainly not within a twentieth part of | |
the market price." | |
"A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy!" The commissionaire plumped | |
down into a chair and stared from one to the other of us. | |
"That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are | |
sentimental considerations in the background which would induce the | |
Countess to part with half her fortune if she could but recover the | |
gem." | |
"It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan," I | |
remarked. | |
"Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five days ago. John Horner, a | |
plumber, was accused of having abstracted it from the lady's | |
jewel-case. The evidence against him was so strong that the case has | |
been referred to the Assizes. I have some account of the matter here, | |
I believe." He rummaged amid his newspapers, glancing over the dates, | |
until at last he smoothed one out, doubled it over, and read the | |
following paragraph: | |
"Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was | |
brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst. abstracted | |
from the jewel-case of the Countess of Morcar the valuable gem known | |
as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, upper-attendant at the hotel, | |
gave his evidence to the effect that he had shown Horner up to the | |
dressing-room of the Countess of Morcar upon the day of the robbery | |
in order that he might solder the second bar of the grate, which was | |
loose. He had remained with Horner some little time, but had finally | |
been called away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, | |
that the bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco | |
casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was | |
accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying empty upon the | |
dressing-table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and Horner was | |
arrested the same evening; but the stone could not be found either | |
upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to the | |
Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder's cry of dismay on | |
discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, where | |
she found matters as described by the last witness. Inspector | |
Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who | |
struggled frantically, and protested his innocence in the strongest | |
terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been | |
given against the prisoner, the magistrate refused to deal summarily | |
with the offence, but referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had | |
shown signs of intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted away | |
at the conclusion and was carried out of court." | |
"Hum! So much for the police-court," said Holmes thoughtfully, | |
tossing aside the paper. "The question for us now to solve is the | |
sequence of events leading from a rifled jewel-case at one end to the | |
crop of a goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see, | |
Watson, our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much more | |
important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came | |
from the goose, and the goose came from Mr. Henry Baker, the | |
gentleman with the bad hat and all the other characteristics with | |
which I have bored you. So now we must set ourselves very seriously | |
to finding this gentleman and ascertaining what part he has played in | |
this little mystery. To do this, we must try the simplest means | |
first, and these lie undoubtedly in an advertisement in all the | |
evening papers. If this fail, I shall have recourse to other | |
methods." | |
"What will you say?" | |
"Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: 'Found at the | |
corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry | |
Baker can have the same by applying at 6.30 this evening at 221b, | |
Baker Street.' That is clear and concise." | |
"Very. But will he see it?" | |
"Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor man, | |
the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his mischance | |
in breaking the window and by the approach of Peterson that he | |
thought of nothing but flight, but since then he must have bitterly | |
regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his bird. Then, again, | |
the introduction of his name will cause him to see it, for everyone | |
who knows him will direct his attention to it. Here you are, | |
Peterson, run down to the advertising agency and have this put in the | |
evening papers." | |
"In which, sir?" | |
"Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James's, Evening News, | |
Standard, Echo, and any others that occur to you." | |
"Very well, sir. And this stone?" | |
"Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, Peterson, | |
just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we | |
must have one to give to this gentleman in place of the one which | |
your family is now devouring." | |
When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up the stone and held | |
it against the light. "It's a bonny thing," said he. "Just see how it | |
glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. | |
Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. In the larger | |
and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed. This stone | |
is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy | |
River in southern China and is remarkable in having every | |
characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade | |
instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has already a sinister | |
history. There have been two murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide, | |
and several robberies brought about for the sake of this forty-grain | |
weight of crystallised charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy | |
would be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison? I'll lock it up in | |
my strong box now and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have | |
it." | |
"Do you think that this man Horner is innocent?" | |
"I cannot tell." | |
"Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had | |
anything to do with the matter?" | |
"It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an absolutely | |
innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he was carrying was | |
of considerably more value than if it were made of solid gold. That, | |
however, I shall determine by a very simple test if we have an answer | |
to our advertisement." | |
"And you can do nothing until then?" | |
"Nothing." | |
"In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall | |
come back in the evening at the hour you have mentioned, for I should | |
like to see the solution of so tangled a business." | |
"Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I | |
believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought | |
to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop." | |
I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half-past six | |
when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I approached the | |
house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat which was | |
buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the bright semicircle | |
which was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I arrived the door was | |
opened, and we were shown up together to Holmes' room. | |
"Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising from his armchair and | |
greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he could so | |
readily assume. "Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. Baker. It is a | |
cold night, and I observe that your circulation is more adapted for | |
summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have just come at the right | |
time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker?" | |
"Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat." | |
He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a | |
broad, intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled | |
brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight tremor of his | |
extended hand, recalled Holmes' surmise as to his habits. His rusty | |
black frock-coat was buttoned right up in front, with the collar | |
turned up, and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a | |
sign of cuff or shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato fashion, choosing | |
his words with care, and gave the impression generally of a man of | |
learning and letters who had had ill-usage at the hands of fortune. | |
"We have retained these things for some days," said Holmes, "because | |
we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. I | |
am at a loss to know now why you did not advertise." | |
Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. "Shillings have not been | |
so plentiful with me as they once were," he remarked. "I had no doubt | |
that the gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off both my hat | |
and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a hopeless | |
attempt at recovering them." | |
"Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we were compelled to eat | |
it." | |
"To eat it!" Our visitor half rose from his chair in his excitement. | |
"Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so. But | |
I presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is about | |
the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your purpose equally | |
well?" | |
"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of relief. | |
"Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of your | |
own bird, so if you wish--" | |
The man burst into a hearty laugh. "They might be useful to me as | |
relics of my adventure," said he, "but beyond that I can hardly see | |
what use the disjecta membra of my late acquaintance are going to be | |
to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I will confine my | |
attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive upon the | |
sideboard." | |
Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug of | |
his shoulders. | |
"There is your hat, then, and there your bird," said he. "By the way, | |
would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one from? I am | |
somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a better grown | |
goose." | |
"Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly | |
gained property under his arm. "There are a few of us who frequent | |
the Alpha Inn, near the Museum--we are to be found in the Museum | |
itself during the day, you understand. This year our good host, | |
Windigate by name, instituted a goose club, by which, on | |
consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to receive a | |
bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar | |
to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a Scotch bonnet is fitted | |
neither to my years nor my gravity." With a comical pomposity of | |
manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and strode off upon his way. | |
"So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes when he had closed the | |
door behind him. "It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever | |
about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?" | |
"Not particularly." | |
"Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up | |
this clue while it is still hot." | |
"By all means." | |
It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats | |
about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a | |
cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out into smoke | |
like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly | |
as we swung through the doctors' quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley | |
Street, and so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a | |
quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn, which is a | |
small public-house at the corner of one of the streets which runs | |
down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar and | |
ordered two glasses of beer from the ruddy-faced, white-aproned | |
landlord. | |
"Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese," said | |
he. | |
"My geese!" The man seemed surprised. | |
"Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, who | |
was a member of your goose club." | |
"Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not our geese." | |
"Indeed! Whose, then?" | |
"Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden." | |
"Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it?" | |
"Breckinridge is his name." | |
"Ah! I don't know him. Well, here's your good health landlord, and | |
prosperity to your house. Good-night." | |
"Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued, buttoning up his coat as we | |
came out into the frosty air. "Remember, Watson that though we have | |
so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the | |
other a man who will certainly get seven years' penal servitude | |
unless we can establish his innocence. It is possible that our | |
inquiry may but confirm his guilt; but, in any case, we have a line | |
of investigation which has been missed by the police, and which a | |
singular chance has placed in our hands. Let us follow it out to the | |
bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and quick march!" | |
We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag | |
of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore the | |
name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor a horsey-looking | |
man, with a sharp face and trim side-whiskers was helping a boy to | |
put up the shutters. | |
"Good-evening. It's a cold night," said Holmes. | |
The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance at my companion. | |
"Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the bare | |
slabs of marble. | |
"Let you have five hundred to-morrow morning." | |
"That's no good." | |
"Well, there are some on the stall with the gas-flare." | |
"Ah, but I was recommended to you." | |
"Who by?" | |
"The landlord of the Alpha." | |
"Oh, yes; I sent him a couple of dozen." | |
"Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from?" | |
To my surprise the question provoked a burst of anger from the | |
salesman. | |
"Now, then, mister," said he, with his head cocked and his arms | |
akimbo, "what are you driving at? Let's have it straight, now." | |
"It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese | |
which you supplied to the Alpha." | |
"Well then, I shan't tell you. So now!" | |
"Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don't know why you should | |
be so warm over such a trifle." | |
"Warm! You'd be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. When | |
I pay good money for a good article there should be an end of the | |
business; but it's 'Where are the geese?' and 'Who did you sell the | |
geese to?' and 'What will you take for the geese?' One would think | |
they were the only geese in the world, to hear the fuss that is made | |
over them." | |
"Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been | |
making inquiries," said Holmes carelessly. "If you won't tell us the | |
bet is off, that is all. But I'm always ready to back my opinion on a | |
matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the bird I ate is | |
country bred." | |
"Well, then, you've lost your fiver, for it's town bred," snapped the | |
salesman. | |
"It's nothing of the kind." | |
"I say it is." | |
"I don't believe it." | |
"D'you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled them | |
ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that went to | |
the Alpha were town bred." | |
"You'll never persuade me to believe that." | |
"Will you bet, then?" | |
"It's merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But I'll | |
have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be obstinate." | |
The salesman chuckled grimly. "Bring me the books, Bill," said he. | |
The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great | |
greasy-backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging lamp. | |
"Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman, "I thought that I was | |
out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there is still one | |
left in my shop. You see this little book?" | |
"Well?" | |
"That's the list of the folk from whom I buy. D'you see? Well, then, | |
here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers after their | |
names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. Now, then! You | |
see this other page in red ink? Well, that is a list of my town | |
suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just read it out to me." | |
"Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road--249," read Holmes. | |
"Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger." | |
Holmes turned to the page indicated. "Here you are, 'Mrs. Oakshott, | |
117, Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier.'" | |
"Now, then, what's the last entry?" | |
"'December 22nd. Twenty-four geese at 7s. 6d.'" | |
"Quite so. There you are. And underneath?" | |
"'Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at 12s.'" | |
"What have you to say now?" | |
Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from his | |
pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the air of | |
a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off he stopped | |
under a lamp-post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which | |
was peculiar to him. | |
"When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the 'Pink 'un' | |
protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet," said | |
he. "I daresay that if I had put ÂŁ100 down in front of him, that man | |
would not have given me such complete information as was drawn from | |
him by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. Well, Watson, we | |
are, I fancy, nearing the end of our quest, and the only point which | |
remains to be determined is whether we should go on to this Mrs. | |
Oakshott to-night, or whether we should reserve it for to-morrow. It | |
is clear from what that surly fellow said that there are others | |
besides ourselves who are anxious about the matter, and I should--" | |
His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke out | |
from the stall which we had just left. Turning round we saw a little | |
rat-faced fellow standing in the centre of the circle of yellow light | |
which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckinridge, the | |
salesman, framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his fists | |
fiercely at the cringing figure. | |
"I've had enough of you and your geese," he shouted. "I wish you were | |
all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more with | |
your silly talk I'll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. Oakshott here | |
and I'll answer her, but what have you to do with it? Did I buy the | |
geese off you?" | |
"No; but one of them was mine all the same," whined the little man. | |
"Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it." | |
"She told me to ask you." | |
"Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I've had | |
enough of it. Get out of this!" He rushed fiercely forward, and the | |
inquirer flitted away into the darkness. | |
"Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road," whispered Holmes. | |
"Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this fellow." | |
Striding through the scattered knots of people who lounged round the | |
flaring stalls, my companion speedily overtook the little man and | |
touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang round, and I could see in | |
the gas-light that every vestige of colour had been driven from his | |
face. | |
"Who are you, then? What do you want?" he asked in a quavering voice. | |
"You will excuse me," said Holmes blandly, "but I could not help | |
overhearing the questions which you put to the salesman just now. I | |
think that I could be of assistance to you." | |
"You? Who are you? How could you know anything of the matter?" | |
"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other | |
people don't know." | |
"But you can know nothing of this?" | |
"Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavouring to trace | |
some geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road, to a | |
salesman named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. Windigate, of the | |
Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr. Henry Baker is a member." | |
"Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet," cried the | |
little fellow with outstretched hands and quivering fingers. "I can | |
hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter." | |
Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. "In that | |
case we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this | |
wind-swept market-place," said he. "But pray tell me, before we go | |
farther, who it is that I have the pleasure of assisting." | |
The man hesitated for an instant. "My name is John Robinson," he | |
answered with a sidelong glance. | |
"No, no; the real name," said Holmes sweetly. "It is always awkward | |
doing business with an alias." | |
A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. "Well then," said | |
he, "my real name is James Ryder." | |
"Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray step | |
into the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you everything which | |
you would wish to know." | |
The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with | |
half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether he | |
is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped | |
into the cab, and in half an hour we were back in the sitting-room at | |
Baker Street. Nothing had been said during our drive, but the high, | |
thin breathing of our new companion, and the claspings and | |
unclaspings of his hands, spoke of the nervous tension within him. | |
"Here we are!" said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. "The | |
fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, Mr. Ryder. | |
Pray take the basket-chair. I will just put on my slippers before we | |
settle this little matter of yours. Now, then! You want to know what | |
became of those geese?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in | |
which you were interested--white, with a black bar across the tail." | |
Ryder quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he cried, "can you tell me | |
where it went to?" | |
"It came here." | |
"Here?" | |
"Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don't wonder that you | |
should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was dead--the | |
bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. I have it | |
here in my museum." | |
Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece with | |
his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up the blue | |
carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, brilliant, | |
many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a drawn face, | |
uncertain whether to claim or to disown it. | |
"The game's up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly. "Hold up, man, or you'll | |
be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair, Watson. He's | |
not got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity. Give him a | |
dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a little more human. What a shrimp | |
it is, to be sure!" | |
For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy | |
brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring with | |
frightened eyes at his accuser. | |
"I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I | |
could possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. | |
Still, that little may as well be cleared up to make the case | |
complete. You had heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of the Countess of | |
Morcar's?" | |
"It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it," said he in a crackling | |
voice. | |
"I see--her ladyship's waiting-maid. Well, the temptation of sudden | |
wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it has been for | |
better men before you; but you were not very scrupulous in the means | |
you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is the making of a very | |
pretty villain in you. You knew that this man Horner, the plumber, | |
had been concerned in some such matter before, and that suspicion | |
would rest the more readily upon him. What did you do, then? You made | |
some small job in my lady's room--you and your confederate | |
Cusack--and you managed that he should be the man sent for. Then, | |
when he had left, you rifled the jewel-case, raised the alarm, and | |
had this unfortunate man arrested. You then--" | |
Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my | |
companion's knees. "For God's sake, have mercy!" he shrieked. "Think | |
of my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I never went | |
wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I'll swear it on a | |
Bible. Oh, don't bring it into court! For Christ's sake, don't!" | |
"Get back into your chair!" said Holmes sternly. "It is very well to | |
cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this poor | |
Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing." | |
"I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the | |
charge against him will break down." | |
"Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true account of | |
the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came the | |
goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies your | |
only hope of safety." | |
Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. "I will tell you it | |
just as it happened, sir," said he. "When Horner had been arrested, | |
it seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away with the | |
stone at once, for I did not know at what moment the police might not | |
take it into their heads to search me and my room. There was no place | |
about the hotel where it would be safe. I went out, as if on some | |
commission, and I made for my sister's house. She had married a man | |
named Oakshott, and lived in Brixton Road, where she fattened fowls | |
for the market. All the way there every man I met seemed to me to be | |
a policeman or a detective; and, for all that it was a cold night, | |
the sweat was pouring down my face before I came to the Brixton Road. | |
My sister asked me what was the matter, and why I was so pale; but I | |
told her that I had been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. | |
Then I went into the back yard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it | |
would be best to do. | |
"I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, and has | |
just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met me, and | |
fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they could get rid | |
of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to me, for I knew | |
one or two things about him; so I made up my mind to go right on to | |
Kilburn, where he lived, and take him into my confidence. He would | |
show me how to turn the stone into money. But how to get to him in | |
safety? I thought of the agonies I had gone through in coming from | |
the hotel. I might at any moment be seized and searched, and there | |
would be the stone in my waistcoat pocket. I was leaning against the | |
wall at the time and looking at the geese which were waddling about | |
round my feet, and suddenly an idea came into my head which showed me | |
how I could beat the best detective that ever lived. | |
"My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick | |
of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she was always | |
as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I would | |
carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in the yard, and | |
behind this I drove one of the birds--a fine big one, white, with a | |
barred tail. I caught it, and prying its bill open, I thrust the | |
stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach. The bird gave | |
a gulp, and I felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into its | |
crop. But the creature flapped and struggled, and out came my sister | |
to know what was the matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute | |
broke loose and fluttered off among the others. | |
"'Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?' says she. | |
"'Well,' said I, 'you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and I was | |
feeling which was the fattest.' | |
"'Oh,' says she, 'we've set yours aside for you--Jem's bird, we call | |
it. It's the big white one over yonder. There's twenty-six of them, | |
which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the | |
market.' | |
"'Thank you, Maggie,' says I; 'but if it is all the same to you, I'd | |
rather have that one I was handling just now.' | |
"'The other is a good three pound heavier,' said she, 'and we | |
fattened it expressly for you.' | |
"'Never mind. I'll have the other, and I'll take it now,' said I. | |
"'Oh, just as you like,' said she, a little huffed. 'Which is it you | |
want, then?' | |
"'That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the | |
flock.' | |
"'Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.' | |
"Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird all | |
the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man | |
that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he | |
choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to | |
water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some | |
terrible mistake had occurred. I left the bird, rushed back to my | |
sister's, and hurried into the back yard. There was not a bird to be | |
seen there. | |
"'Where are they all, Maggie?' I cried. | |
"'Gone to the dealer's, Jem.' | |
"'Which dealer's?' | |
"'Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.' | |
"'But was there another with a barred tail?' I asked, 'the same as | |
the one I chose?' | |
"'Yes, Jem; there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never tell | |
them apart.' | |
"Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my feet | |
would carry me to this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the lot at | |
once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they had gone. | |
You heard him yourselves to-night. Well, he has always answered me | |
like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think | |
that I am myself. And now--and now I am myself a branded thief, | |
without ever having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. | |
God help me! God help me!" He burst into convulsive sobbing, with his | |
face buried in his hands. | |
There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and by | |
the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes' finger-tips upon the edge of | |
the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door. | |
"Get out!" said he. | |
"What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!" | |
"No more words. Get out!" | |
And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the | |
stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls | |
from the street. | |
"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay | |
pipe, "I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. | |
If Horner were in danger it would be another thing; but this fellow | |
will not appear against him, and the case must collapse. I suppose | |
that I am commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am | |
saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong again; he is too | |
terribly frightened. Send him to jail now, and you make him a | |
jail-bird for life. Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance | |
has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its | |
solution is its own reward. If you will have the goodness to touch | |
the bell, Doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also | |
a bird will be the chief feature." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND | |
On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I have | |
during the last eight years studied the methods of my friend Sherlock | |
Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number merely | |
strange, but none commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the | |
love of his art than for the acquirement of wealth, he refused to | |
associate himself with any investigation which did not tend towards | |
the unusual, and even the fantastic. Of all these varied cases, | |
however, I cannot recall any which presented more singular features | |
than that which was associated with the well-known Surrey family of | |
the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. The events in question occurred in the | |
early days of my association with Holmes, when we were sharing rooms | |
as bachelors in Baker Street. It is possible that I might have placed | |
them upon record before, but a promise of secrecy was made at the | |
time, from which I have only been freed during the last month by the | |
untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge was given. It is | |
perhaps as well that the facts should now come to light, for I have | |
reasons to know that there are widespread rumours as to the death of | |
Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter even more terrible | |
than the truth. | |
It was early in April in the year '83 that I woke one morning to find | |
Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He | |
was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece | |
showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him | |
in some surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was | |
myself regular in my habits. | |
"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's the common | |
lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon | |
me, and I on you." | |
"What is it, then--a fire?" | |
"No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a | |
considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is | |
waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about | |
the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knock sleepy people | |
up out of their beds, I presume that it is something very pressing | |
which they have to communicate. Should it prove to be an interesting | |
case, you would, I am sure, wish to follow it from the outset. I | |
thought, at any rate, that I should call you and give you the | |
chance." | |
"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything." | |
I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professional | |
investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as | |
intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis with which he | |
unravelled the problems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw | |
on my clothes and was ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend | |
down to the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, | |
who had been sitting in the window, rose as we entered. | |
"Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily. "My name is Sherlock | |
Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, before | |
whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am glad to see | |
that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the fire. Pray draw | |
up to it, and I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I observe | |
that you are shivering." | |
"It is not cold which makes me shiver," said the woman in a low | |
voice, changing her seat as requested. | |
"What, then?" | |
"It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She raised her veil as she | |
spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state of | |
agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless frightened | |
eyes, like those of some hunted animal. Her features and figure were | |
those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot with premature | |
grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran | |
her over with one of his quick, all-comprehensive glances. | |
"You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending forward and patting | |
her forearm. "We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt. You | |
have come in by train this morning, I see." | |
"You know me, then?" | |
"No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm of | |
your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had a good | |
drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached the | |
station." | |
The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at my | |
companion. | |
"There is no mystery, my dear madam," said he, smiling. "The left arm | |
of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven places. | |
The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a dog-cart | |
which throws up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the | |
left-hand side of the driver." | |
"Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct," said she. | |
"I started from home before six, reached Leatherhead at twenty past, | |
and came in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I can stand this | |
strain no longer; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to | |
turn to--none, save only one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow, | |
can be of little aid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard | |
of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you helped in the hour of her sore | |
need. It was from her that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not | |
think that you could help me, too, and at least throw a little light | |
through the dense darkness which surrounds me? At present it is out | |
of my power to reward you for your services, but in a month or six | |
weeks I shall be married, with the control of my own income, and then | |
at least you shall not find me ungrateful." | |
Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small | |
case-book, which he consulted. | |
"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned | |
with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can | |
only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to | |
your case as I did to that of your friend. As to reward, my | |
profession is its own reward; but you are at liberty to defray | |
whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time which suits you best. | |
And now I beg that you will lay before us everything that may help us | |
in forming an opinion upon the matter." | |
"Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situation lies in | |
the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so | |
entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to another, that | |
even he to whom of all others I have a right to look for help and | |
advice looks upon all that I tell him about it as the fancies of a | |
nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can read it from his | |
soothing answers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr. Holmes, that | |
you can see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart. | |
You may advise me how to walk amid the dangers which encompass me." | |
"I am all attention, madam." | |
"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who is | |
the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the | |
Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey." | |
Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he. | |
"The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the | |
estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, and | |
Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successive | |
heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the family | |
ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the days of the | |
Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, and the | |
two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavy | |
mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence there, living the | |
horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his only son, my | |
stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to the new conditions, | |
obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled him to take a | |
medical degree and went out to Calcutta, where, by his professional | |
skill and his force of character, he established a large practice. In | |
a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been | |
perpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death and | |
narrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a long | |
term of imprisonment and afterwards returned to England a morose and | |
disappointed man. | |
"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, the | |
young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. My | |
sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the | |
time of my mother's re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of | |
money--not less than ÂŁ1000 a year--and this she bequeathed to Dr. | |
Roylott entirely while we resided with him, with a provision that a | |
certain annual sum should be allowed to each of us in the event of | |
our marriage. Shortly after our return to England my mother died--she | |
was killed eight years ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. | |
Roylott then abandoned his attempts to establish himself in practice | |
in London and took us to live with him in the old ancestral house at | |
Stoke Moran. The money which my mother had left was enough for all | |
our wants, and there seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness. | |
"But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. | |
Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours, | |
who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back | |
in the old family seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom | |
came out save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might | |
cross his path. Violence of temper approaching to mania has been | |
hereditary in the men of the family, and in my stepfather's case it | |
had, I believe, been intensified by his long residence in the | |
tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took place, two of which | |
ended in the police-court, until at last he became the terror of the | |
village, and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of | |
immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger. | |
"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a | |
stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I could | |
gather together that I was able to avert another public exposure. He | |
had no friends at all save the wandering gypsies, and he would give | |
these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered | |
land which represent the family estate, and would accept in return | |
the hospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes | |
for weeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are | |
sent over to him by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a | |
cheetah and a baboon, which wander freely over his grounds and are | |
feared by the villagers almost as much as their master. | |
"You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had | |
no great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with us, and | |
for a long time we did all the work of the house. She was but thirty | |
at the time of her death, and yet her hair had already begun to | |
whiten, even as mine has." | |
"Your sister is dead, then?" | |
"She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish to | |
speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I have | |
described, we were little likely to see anyone of our own age and | |
position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother's maiden sister, Miss | |
Honoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we were occasionally | |
allowed to pay short visits at this lady's house. Julia went there at | |
Christmas two years ago, and met there a half-pay major of marines, | |
to whom she became engaged. My stepfather learned of the engagement | |
when my sister returned and offered no objection to the marriage; but | |
within a fortnight of the day which had been fixed for the wedding, | |
the terrible event occurred which has deprived me of my only | |
companion." | |
Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes | |
closed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his lids | |
now and glanced across at his visitor. | |
"Pray be precise as to details," said he. | |
"It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful time is | |
seared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I have already said, | |
very old, and only one wing is now inhabited. The bedrooms in this | |
wing are on the ground floor, the sitting-rooms being in the central | |
block of the buildings. Of these bedrooms the first is Dr. Roylott's, | |
the second my sister's, and the third my own. There is no | |
communication between them, but they all open out into the same | |
corridor. Do I make myself plain?" | |
"Perfectly so." | |
"The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That fatal | |
night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we knew that he | |
had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled by the smell of | |
the strong Indian cigars which it was his custom to smoke. She left | |
her room, therefore, and came into mine, where she sat for some time, | |
chatting about her approaching wedding. At eleven o'clock she rose to | |
leave me, but she paused at the door and looked back. | |
"'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever heard anyone whistle in | |
the dead of the night?' | |
"'Never,' said I. | |
"'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in your | |
sleep?' | |
"'Certainly not. But why?' | |
"'Because during the last few nights I have always, about three in | |
the morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it | |
has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from--perhaps from the | |
next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just ask you | |
whether you had heard it.' | |
"'No, I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in the | |
plantation.' | |
"'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you did | |
not hear it also.' | |
"'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.' | |
"'Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.' She smiled back | |
at me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her key turn | |
in the lock." | |
"Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom always to lock yourselves | |
in at night?" | |
"Always." | |
"And why?" | |
"I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetah and a | |
baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were locked." | |
"Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement." | |
"I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending | |
misfortune impressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, were | |
twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind two souls | |
which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The wind was | |
howling outside, and the rain was beating and splashing against the | |
windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the gale, there burst forth | |
the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew that it was my sister's | |
voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed | |
into the corridor. As I opened my door I seemed to hear a low | |
whistle, such as my sister described, and a few moments later a | |
clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen. As I ran down the | |
passage, my sister's door was unlocked, and revolved slowly upon its | |
hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing what was about to | |
issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister | |
appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror, her hands | |
groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of a | |
drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that | |
moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. She | |
writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were dreadfully | |
convulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognised me, but as | |
I bent over her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall | |
never forget, 'Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band! The speckled | |
band!' There was something else which she would fain have said, and | |
she stabbed with her finger into the air in the direction of the | |
doctor's room, but a fresh convulsion seized her and choked her | |
words. I rushed out, calling loudly for my stepfather, and I met him | |
hastening from his room in his dressing-gown. When he reached my | |
sister's side she was unconscious, and though he poured brandy down | |
her throat and sent for medical aid from the village, all efforts | |
were in vain, for she slowly sank and died without having recovered | |
her consciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister." | |
"One moment," said Holmes, "are you sure about this whistle and | |
metallic sound? Could you swear to it?" | |
"That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is my | |
strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of the | |
gale and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have been | |
deceived." | |
"Was your sister dressed?" | |
"No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found the | |
charred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box." | |
"Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when the | |
alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did the | |
coroner come to?" | |
"He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott's conduct | |
had long been notorious in the county, but he was unable to find any | |
satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that the door had | |
been fastened upon the inner side, and the windows were blocked by | |
old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars, which were secured every | |
night. The walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to be quite | |
solid all round, and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, with | |
the same result. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four large | |
staples. It is certain, therefore, that my sister was quite alone | |
when she met her end. Besides, there were no marks of any violence | |
upon her." | |
"How about poison?" | |
"The doctors examined her for it, but without success." | |
"What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?" | |
"It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, though | |
what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine." | |
"Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time?" | |
"Yes, there are nearly always some there." | |
"Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band--a speckled | |
band?" | |
"Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of | |
delirium, sometimes that it may have referred to some band of people, | |
perhaps to these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not know | |
whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of them wear over | |
their heads might have suggested the strange adjective which she | |
used." | |
Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied. | |
"These are very deep waters," said he; "pray go on with your | |
narrative." | |
"Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until lately | |
lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I have | |
known for many years, has done me the honour to ask my hand in | |
marriage. His name is Armitage--Percy Armitage--the second son of Mr. | |
Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My stepfather has offered no | |
opposition to the match, and we are to be married in the course of | |
the spring. Two days ago some repairs were started in the west wing | |
of the building, and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have | |
had to move into the chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in | |
the very bed in which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror | |
when last night, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I | |
suddenly heard in the silence of the night the low whistle which had | |
been the herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the lamp, but | |
nothing was to be seen in the room. I was too shaken to go to bed | |
again, however, so I dressed, and as soon as it was daylight I | |
slipped down, got a dog-cart at the Crown Inn, which is opposite, and | |
drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have come on this morning with | |
the one object of seeing you and asking your advice." | |
"You have done wisely," said my friend. "But have you told me all?" | |
"Yes, all." | |
"Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather." | |
"Why, what do you mean?" | |
For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which fringed | |
the hand that lay upon our visitor's knee. Five little livid spots, | |
the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white | |
wrist. | |
"You have been cruelly used," said Holmes. | |
The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. "He is a | |
hard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength." | |
There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin upon | |
his hands and stared into the crackling fire. | |
"This is a very deep business," he said at last. "There are a | |
thousand details which I should desire to know before I decide upon | |
our course of action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If we were to | |
come to Stoke Moran to-day, would it be possible for us to see over | |
these rooms without the knowledge of your stepfather?" | |
"As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some most | |
important business. It is probable that he will be away all day, and | |
that there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a housekeeper | |
now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easily get her out of | |
the way." | |
"Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?" | |
"By no means." | |
"Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?" | |
"I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am in | |
town. But I shall return by the twelve o'clock train, so as to be | |
there in time for your coming." | |
"And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself some | |
small business matters to attend to. Will you not wait and | |
breakfast?" | |
"No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have confided | |
my trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you again this | |
afternoon." She dropped her thick black veil over her face and glided | |
from the room. | |
"And what do you think of it all, Watson?" asked Sherlock Holmes, | |
leaning back in his chair. | |
"It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business." | |
"Dark enough and sinister enough." | |
"Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls are | |
sound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, then | |
her sister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her | |
mysterious end." | |
"What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the | |
very peculiar words of the dying woman?" | |
"I cannot think." | |
"When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of a | |
band of gipsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, the | |
fact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor has an | |
interest in preventing his stepdaughter's marriage, the dying | |
allusion to a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner | |
heard a metallic clang, which might have been caused by one of those | |
metal bars that secured the shutters falling back into its place, I | |
think that there is good ground to think that the mystery may be | |
cleared along those lines." | |
"But what, then, did the gipsies do?" | |
"I cannot imagine." | |
"I see many objections to any such theory." | |
"And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going to | |
Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections are fatal, | |
or if they may be explained away. But what in the name of the devil!" | |
The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that our | |
door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framed | |
himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of the | |
professional and of the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a long | |
frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging | |
in his hand. So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross | |
bar of the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it across from | |
side to side. A large face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned | |
yellow with the sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned | |
from one to the other of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and | |
his high, thin, fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to | |
a fierce old bird of prey. | |
"Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition. | |
"My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me," said my companion | |
quietly. | |
"I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran." | |
"Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray take a seat." | |
"I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I have | |
traced her. What has she been saying to you?" | |
"It is a little cold for the time of the year," said Holmes. | |
"What has she been saying to you?" screamed the old man furiously. | |
"But I have heard that the crocuses promise well," continued my | |
companion imperturbably. | |
"Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new visitor, taking a step | |
forward and shaking his hunting-crop. "I know you, you scoundrel! I | |
have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler." | |
My friend smiled. | |
"Holmes, the busybody!" | |
His smile broadened. | |
"Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!" | |
Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation is most entertaining," | |
said he. "When you go out close the door, for there is a decided | |
draught." | |
"I will go when I have said my say. Don't you dare to meddle with my | |
affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a | |
dangerous man to fall foul of! See here." He stepped swiftly forward, | |
seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands. | |
"See that you keep yourself out of my grip," he snarled, and hurling | |
the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room. | |
"He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. "I am not | |
quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that my | |
grip was not much more feeble than his own." As he spoke he picked up | |
the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, straightened it out again. | |
"Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official | |
detective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation, | |
however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer from | |
her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, | |
we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to | |
Doctors' Commons, where I hope to get some data which may help us in | |
this matter." | |
It was nearly one o'clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from his | |
excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over | |
with notes and figures. | |
"I have seen the will of the deceased wife," said he. "To determine | |
its exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the present prices | |
of the investments with which it is concerned. The total income, | |
which at the time of the wife's death was little short of ÂŁ1100, is | |
now, through the fall in agricultural prices, not more than ÂŁ750. | |
Each daughter can claim an income of ÂŁ250, in case of marriage. It is | |
evident, therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would | |
have had a mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him to | |
a very serious extent. My morning's work has not been wasted, since | |
it has proved that he has the very strongest motives for standing in | |
the way of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, this is too serious | |
for dawdling, especially as the old man is aware that we are | |
interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if you are ready, we shall | |
call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should be very much obliged if | |
you would slip your revolver into your pocket. An Eley's No. 2 is an | |
excellent argument with gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into | |
knots. That and a tooth-brush are, I think, all that we need." | |
At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead, | |
where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five | |
miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a perfect day, with a | |
bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees and | |
wayside hedges were just throwing out their first green shoots, and | |
the air was full of the pleasant smell of the moist earth. To me at | |
least there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of the | |
spring and this sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My | |
companion sat in the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat | |
pulled down over his eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried | |
in the deepest thought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on | |
the shoulder, and pointed over the meadows. | |
"Look there!" said he. | |
A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening | |
into a grove at the highest point. From amid the branches there | |
jutted out the grey gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion. | |
"Stoke Moran?" said he. | |
"Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott," remarked the | |
driver. | |
"There is some building going on there," said Holmes; "that is where | |
we are going." | |
"There's the village," said the driver, pointing to a cluster of | |
roofs some distance to the left; "but if you want to get to the | |
house, you'll find it shorter to get over this stile, and so by the | |
foot-path over the fields. There it is, where the lady is walking." | |
"And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed Holmes, shading his | |
eyes. "Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest." | |
We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way to | |
Leatherhead. | |
"I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile, "that | |
this fellow should think we had come here as architects, or on some | |
definite business. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss | |
Stoner. You see that we have been as good as our word." | |
Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a face | |
which spoke her joy. "I have been waiting so eagerly for you," she | |
cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All has turned out splendidly. | |
Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely that he will be back | |
before evening." | |
"We have had the pleasure of making the doctor's acquaintance," said | |
Holmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had occurred. Miss | |
Stoner turned white to the lips as she listened. | |
"Good heavens!" she cried, "he has followed me, then." | |
"So it appears." | |
"He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. What | |
will he say when he returns?" | |
"He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someone more | |
cunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself up from | |
him to-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away to your aunt's | |
at Harrow. Now, we must make the best use of our time, so kindly take | |
us at once to the rooms which we are to examine." | |
The building was of grey, lichen-blotched stone, with a high central | |
portion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, thrown out | |
on each side. In one of these wings the windows were broken and | |
blocked with wooden boards, while the roof was partly caved in, a | |
picture of ruin. The central portion was in little better repair, but | |
the right-hand block was comparatively modern, and the blinds in the | |
windows, with the blue smoke curling up from the chimneys, showed | |
that this was where the family resided. Some scaffolding had been | |
erected against the end wall, and the stone-work had been broken | |
into, but there were no signs of any workmen at the moment of our | |
visit. Holmes walked slowly up and down the ill-trimmed lawn and | |
examined with deep attention the outsides of the windows. | |
"This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, the | |
centre one to your sister's, and the one next to the main building to | |
Dr. Roylott's chamber?" | |
"Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one." | |
"Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there does not | |
seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end wall." | |
"There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from my | |
room." | |
"Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow wing | |
runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. There are | |
windows in it, of course?" | |
"Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to pass through." | |
"As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms were | |
unapproachable from that side. Now, would you have the kindness to go | |
into your room and bar your shutters?" | |
Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination through | |
the open window, endeavoured in every way to force the shutter open, | |
but without success. There was no slit through which a knife could be | |
passed to raise the bar. Then with his lens he tested the hinges, but | |
they were of solid iron, built firmly into the massive masonry. | |
"Hum!" said he, scratching his chin in some perplexity, "my theory | |
certainly presents some difficulties. No one could pass these | |
shutters if they were bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws | |
any light upon the matter." | |
A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which the | |
three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third chamber, | |
so we passed at once to the second, that in which Miss Stoner was now | |
sleeping, and in which her sister had met with her fate. It was a | |
homely little room, with a low ceiling and a gaping fireplace, after | |
the fashion of old country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stood in | |
one corner, a narrow white-counterpaned bed in another, and a | |
dressing-table on the left-hand side of the window. These articles, | |
with two small wicker-work chairs, made up all the furniture in the | |
room save for a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards | |
round and the panelling of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, | |
so old and discoloured that it may have dated from the original | |
building of the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner | |
and sat silent, while his eyes travelled round and round and up and | |
down, taking in every detail of the apartment. | |
"Where does that bell communicate with?" he asked at last pointing to | |
a thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, the tassel actually | |
lying upon the pillow. | |
"It goes to the housekeeper's room." | |
"It looks newer than the other things?" | |
"Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago." | |
"Your sister asked for it, I suppose?" | |
"No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what we | |
wanted for ourselves." | |
"Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there. You | |
will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to this | |
floor." He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in his hand | |
and crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining minutely the | |
cracks between the boards. Then he did the same with the wood-work | |
with which the chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the | |
bed and spent some time in staring at it and in running his eye up | |
and down the wall. Finally he took the bell-rope in his hand and gave | |
it a brisk tug. | |
"Why, it's a dummy," said he. | |
"Won't it ring?" | |
"No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. You | |
can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where the little | |
opening for the ventilator is." | |
"How very absurd! I never noticed that before." | |
"Very strange!" muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. "There are one | |
or two very singular points about this room. For example, what a fool | |
a builder must be to open a ventilator into another room, when, with | |
the same trouble, he might have communicated with the outside air!" | |
"That is also quite modern," said the lady. | |
"Done about the same time as the bell-rope?" remarked Holmes. | |
"Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that time." | |
"They seem to have been of a most interesting character--dummy | |
bell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your | |
permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into the | |
inner apartment." | |
Dr. Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than that of his | |
step-daughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small | |
wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an | |
armchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a | |
round table, and a large iron safe were the principal things which | |
met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each and all of | |
them with the keenest interest. | |
"What's in here?" he asked, tapping the safe. | |
"My stepfather's business papers." | |
"Oh! you have seen inside, then?" | |
"Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of papers." | |
"There isn't a cat in it, for example?" | |
"No. What a strange idea!" | |
"Well, look at this!" He took up a small saucer of milk which stood | |
on the top of it. | |
"No; we don't keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon." | |
"Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a | |
saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I | |
daresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine." He | |
squatted down in front of the wooden chair and examined the seat of | |
it with the greatest attention. | |
"Thank you. That is quite settled," said he, rising and putting his | |
lens in his pocket. "Hullo! Here is something interesting!" | |
The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on one | |
corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself and tied | |
so as to make a loop of whipcord. | |
"What do you make of that, Watson?" | |
"It's a common enough lash. But I don't know why it should be tied." | |
"That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it's a wicked world, and | |
when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst of all. I | |
think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and with your | |
permission we shall walk out upon the lawn." | |
I had never seen my friend's face so grim or his brow so dark as it | |
was when we turned from the scene of this investigation. We had | |
walked several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss Stoner nor | |
myself liking to break in upon his thoughts before he roused himself | |
from his reverie. | |
"It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he, "that you should | |
absolutely follow my advice in every respect." | |
"I shall most certainly do so." | |
"The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may depend | |
upon your compliance." | |
"I assure you that I am in your hands." | |
"In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in | |
your room." | |
Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment. | |
"Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the | |
village inn over there?" | |
"Yes, that is the Crown." | |
"Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?" | |
"Certainly." | |
"You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a headache, | |
when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him retire for | |
the night, you must open the shutters of your window, undo the hasp, | |
put your lamp there as a signal to us, and then withdraw quietly with | |
everything which you are likely to want into the room which you used | |
to occupy. I have no doubt that, in spite of the repairs, you could | |
manage there for one night." | |
"Oh, yes, easily." | |
"The rest you will leave in our hands." | |
"But what will you do?" | |
"We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate the | |
cause of this noise which has disturbed you." | |
"I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind," | |
said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's sleeve. | |
"Perhaps I have." | |
"Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister's | |
death." | |
"I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak." | |
"You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and if | |
she died from some sudden fright." | |
"No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some more | |
tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you for if Dr. | |
Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain. Good-bye, | |
and be brave, for if you will do what I have told you, you may rest | |
assured that we shall soon drive away the dangers that threaten you." | |
Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom and | |
sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and from | |
our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and of the | |
inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr. | |
Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside the | |
little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy had some slight | |
difficulty in undoing the heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse | |
roar of the doctor's voice and saw the fury with which he shook his | |
clinched fists at him. The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we | |
saw a sudden light spring up among the trees as the lamp was lit in | |
one of the sitting-rooms. | |
"Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat together in the | |
gathering darkness, "I have really some scruples as to taking you | |
to-night. There is a distinct element of danger." | |
"Can I be of assistance?" | |
"Your presence might be invaluable." | |
"Then I shall certainly come." | |
"It is very kind of you." | |
"You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these rooms | |
than was visible to me." | |
"No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine | |
that you saw all that I did." | |
"I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose that | |
could answer I confess is more than I can imagine." | |
"You saw the ventilator, too?" | |
"Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to have | |
a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a rat could | |
hardly pass through." | |
"I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to Stoke | |
Moran." | |
"My dear Holmes!" | |
"Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her | |
sister could smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of course that suggested | |
at once that there must be a communication between the two rooms. It | |
could only be a small one, or it would have been remarked upon at the | |
coroner's inquiry. I deduced a ventilator." | |
"But what harm can there be in that?" | |
"Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A ventilator | |
is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed dies. Does | |
not that strike you?" | |
"I cannot as yet see any connection." | |
"Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?" | |
"No." | |
"It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened like | |
that before?" | |
"I cannot say that I have." | |
"The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the same | |
relative position to the ventilator and to the rope--or so we may | |
call it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull." | |
"Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. We | |
are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible crime." | |
"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong he is | |
the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer and | |
Pritchard were among the heads of their profession. This man strikes | |
even deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall be able to strike | |
deeper still. But we shall have horrors enough before the night is | |
over; for goodness' sake let us have a quiet pipe and turn our minds | |
for a few hours to something more cheerful." | |
About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished, and | |
all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours passed | |
slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a | |
single bright light shone out right in front of us. | |
"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet; "it comes | |
from the middle window." | |
As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord, | |
explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, and | |
that it was possible that we might spend the night there. A moment | |
later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our | |
faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us through the | |
gloom to guide us on our sombre errand. | |
There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepaired | |
breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among the trees, | |
we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enter through the | |
window when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted what | |
seemed to be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself upon the | |
grass with writhing limbs and then ran swiftly across the lawn into | |
the darkness. | |
"My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?" | |
Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a | |
vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh | |
and put his lips to my ear. | |
"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon." | |
I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. There was | |
a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at any | |
moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, after following | |
Holmes' example and slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside the | |
bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed the shutters, moved the lamp | |
onto the table, and cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had | |
seen it in the daytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet | |
of his hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that it was all | |
that I could do to distinguish the words: | |
"The least sound would be fatal to our plans." | |
I nodded to show that I had heard. | |
"We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator." | |
I nodded again. | |
"Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your | |
pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the | |
bed, and you in that chair." | |
I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table. | |
Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon the | |
bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of a | |
candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left in darkness. | |
How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a | |
sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my | |
companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state | |
of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut off the | |
least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness. | |
From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at our | |
very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that the | |
cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the deep tones | |
of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of an hour. How | |
long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and one and two and | |
three, and still we sat waiting silently for whatever might befall. | |
Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the direction | |
of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was succeeded by a | |
strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone in the next | |
room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle sound of movement, and | |
then all was silent once more, though the smell grew stronger. For | |
half an hour I sat with straining ears. Then suddenly another sound | |
became audible--a very gentle, soothing sound, like that of a small | |
jet of steam escaping continually from a kettle. The instant that we | |
heard it, Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed | |
furiously with his cane at the bell-pull. | |
"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?" | |
But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I heard | |
a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my weary | |
eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which my friend | |
lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face was deadly | |
pale and filled with horror and loathing. He had ceased to strike and | |
was gazing up at the ventilator when suddenly there broke from the | |
silence of the night the most horrible cry to which I have ever | |
listened. It swelled up louder and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and | |
fear and anger all mingled in the one dreadful shriek. They say that | |
away down in the village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry | |
raised the sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, | |
and I stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of | |
it had died away into the silence from which it rose. | |
"What can it mean?" I gasped. | |
"It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And perhaps, after | |
all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr. | |
Roylott's room." | |
With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the corridor. | |
Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply from within. | |
Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his heels, with the | |
cocked pistol in my hand. | |
It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a | |
dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beam of | |
light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. Beside this | |
table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott clad in a long | |
grey dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding beneath, and his feet | |
thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. Across his lap lay the | |
short stock with the long lash which we had noticed during the day. | |
His chin was cocked upward and his eyes were fixed in a dreadful, | |
rigid stare at the corner of the ceiling. Round his brow he had a | |
peculiar yellow band, with brownish speckles, which seemed to be | |
bound tightly round his head. As we entered he made neither sound nor | |
motion. | |
"The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes. | |
I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began to | |
move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat | |
diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent. | |
"It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest snake in India. | |
He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in | |
truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit | |
which he digs for another. Let us thrust this creature back into its | |
den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner to some place of shelter and | |
let the county police know what has happened." | |
As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man's lap, and | |
throwing the noose round the reptile's neck he drew it from its | |
horrid perch and, carrying it at arm's length, threw it into the iron | |
safe, which he closed upon it. | |
Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of | |
Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a narrative | |
which has already run to too great a length by telling how we broke | |
the sad news to the terrified girl, how we conveyed her by the | |
morning train to the care of her good aunt at Harrow, of how the slow | |
process of official inquiry came to the conclusion that the doctor | |
met his fate while indiscreetly playing with a dangerous pet. The | |
little which I had yet to learn of the case was told me by Sherlock | |
Holmes as we travelled back next day. | |
"I had," said he, "come to an entirely erroneous conclusion which | |
shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from | |
insufficient data. The presence of the gipsies, and the use of the | |
word 'band,' which was used by the poor girl, no doubt, to explain | |
the appearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of by the light | |
of her match, were sufficient to put me upon an entirely wrong scent. | |
I can only claim the merit that I instantly reconsidered my position | |
when, however, it became clear to me that whatever danger threatened | |
an occupant of the room could not come either from the window or the | |
door. My attention was speedily drawn, as I have already remarked to | |
you, to this ventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung down to the | |
bed. The discovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was | |
clamped to the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the | |
rope was there as a bridge for something passing through the hole and | |
coming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, and | |
when I coupled it with my knowledge that the doctor was furnished | |
with a supply of creatures from India, I felt that I was probably on | |
the right track. The idea of using a form of poison which could not | |
possibly be discovered by any chemical test was just such a one as | |
would occur to a clever and ruthless man who had had an Eastern | |
training. The rapidity with which such a poison would take effect | |
would also, from his point of view, be an advantage. It would be a | |
sharp-eyed coroner, indeed, who could distinguish the two little dark | |
punctures which would show where the poison fangs had done their | |
work. Then I thought of the whistle. Of course he must recall the | |
snake before the morning light revealed it to the victim. He had | |
trained it, probably by the use of the milk which we saw, to return | |
to him when summoned. He would put it through this ventilator at the | |
hour that he thought best, with the certainty that it would crawl | |
down the rope and land on the bed. It might or might not bite the | |
occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, but sooner | |
or later she must fall a victim. | |
"I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his room. | |
An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in the habit of | |
standing on it, which of course would be necessary in order that he | |
should reach the ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of | |
milk, and the loop of whipcord were enough to finally dispel any | |
doubts which may have remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss | |
Stoner was obviously caused by her stepfather hastily closing the | |
door of his safe upon its terrible occupant. Having once made up my | |
mind, you know the steps which I took in order to put the matter to | |
the proof. I heard the creature hiss as I have no doubt that you did | |
also, and I instantly lit the light and attacked it." | |
"With the result of driving it through the ventilator." | |
"And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master at | |
the other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home and roused its | |
snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In this | |
way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott's | |
death, and I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon | |
my conscience." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER'S THUMB | |
Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. | |
Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, there | |
were only two which I was the means of introducing to his | |
notice--that of Mr. Hatherley's thumb, and that of Colonel | |
Warburton's madness. Of these the latter may have afforded a finer | |
field for an acute and original observer, but the other was so | |
strange in its inception and so dramatic in its details that it may | |
be the more worthy of being placed upon record, even if it gave my | |
friend fewer openings for those deductive methods of reasoning by | |
which he achieved such remarkable results. The story has, I believe, | |
been told more than once in the newspapers, but, like all such | |
narratives, its effect is much less striking when set forth en bloc | |
in a single half-column of print than when the facts slowly evolve | |
before your own eyes, and the mystery clears gradually away as each | |
new discovery furnishes a step which leads on to the complete truth. | |
At the time the circumstances made a deep impression upon me, and the | |
lapse of two years has hardly served to weaken the effect. | |
It was in the summer of '89, not long after my marriage, that the | |
events occurred which I am now about to summarise. I had returned to | |
civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker Street | |
rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally even | |
persuaded him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come and | |
visit us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to | |
live at no very great distance from Paddington Station, I got a few | |
patients from among the officials. One of these, whom I had cured of | |
a painful and lingering disease, was never weary of advertising my | |
virtues and of endeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he | |
might have any influence. | |
One morning, at a little before seven o'clock, I was awakened by the | |
maid tapping at the door to announce that two men had come from | |
Paddington and were waiting in the consulting-room. I dressed | |
hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom | |
trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my old ally, the | |
guard, came out of the room and closed the door tightly behind him. | |
"I've got him here," he whispered, jerking his thumb over his | |
shoulder; "he's all right." | |
"What is it, then?" I asked, for his manner suggested that it was | |
some strange creature which he had caged up in my room. | |
"It's a new patient," he whispered. "I thought I'd bring him round | |
myself; then he couldn't slip away. There he is, all safe and sound. | |
I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties, just the same as you." And | |
off he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank | |
him. | |
I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the | |
table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft | |
cloth cap which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of his | |
hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all over with | |
bloodstains. He was young, not more than five-and-twenty, I should | |
say, with a strong, masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and | |
gave me the impression of a man who was suffering from some strong | |
agitation, which it took all his strength of mind to control. | |
"I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor," said he, "but I have | |
had a very serious accident during the night. I came in by train this | |
morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might find a | |
doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here. I gave the maid | |
a card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table." | |
I took it up and glanced at it. "Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic | |
engineer, 16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor)." That was the name, | |
style, and abode of my morning visitor. "I regret that I have kept | |
you waiting," said I, sitting down in my library-chair. "You are | |
fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a | |
monotonous occupation." | |
"Oh, my night could not be called monotonous," said he, and laughed. | |
He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in | |
his chair and shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up | |
against that laugh. | |
"Stop it!" I cried; "pull yourself together!" and I poured out some | |
water from a caraffe. | |
It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical | |
outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis is | |
over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very weary and | |
pale-looking. | |
"I have been making a fool of myself," he gasped. | |
"Not at all. Drink this." I dashed some brandy into the water, and | |
the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks. | |
"That's better!" said he. "And now, Doctor, perhaps you would kindly | |
attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb used to | |
be." | |
He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even my | |
hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four protruding | |
fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb should have | |
been. It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots. | |
"Good heavens!" I cried, "this is a terrible injury. It must have | |
bled considerably." | |
"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must | |
have been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that it | |
was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very tightly | |
round the wrist and braced it up with a twig." | |
"Excellent! You should have been a surgeon." | |
"It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own | |
province." | |
"This has been done," said I, examining the wound, "by a very heavy | |
and sharp instrument." | |
"A thing like a cleaver," said he. | |
"An accident, I presume?" | |
"By no means." | |
"What! a murderous attack?" | |
"Very murderous indeed." | |
"You horrify me." | |
I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it | |
over with cotton wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back without | |
wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time. | |
"How is that?" I asked when I had finished. | |
"Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. I | |
was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through." | |
"Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently | |
trying to your nerves." | |
"Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but, | |
between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing evidence of this | |
wound of mine, I should be surprised if they believed my statement, | |
for it is a very extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of | |
proof with which to back it up; and, even if they believe me, the | |
clues which I can give them are so vague that it is a question | |
whether justice will be done." | |
"Ha!" cried I, "if it is anything in the nature of a problem which | |
you desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to | |
my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the official | |
police." | |
"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered my visitor, "and I should | |
be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of course I must | |
use the official police as well. Would you give me an introduction to | |
him?" | |
"I'll do better. I'll take you round to him myself." | |
"I should be immensely obliged to you." | |
"We'll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to have a | |
little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?" | |
"Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story." | |
"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an | |
instant." I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my wife, | |
and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my new | |
acquaintance to Baker Street. | |
Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room | |
in his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The Times and | |
smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed of all the | |
plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all | |
carefully dried and collected on the corner of the mantelpiece. He | |
received us in his quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and | |
eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he | |
settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath | |
his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach. | |
"It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr. | |
Hatherley," said he. "Pray, lie down there and make yourself | |
absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired | |
and keep up your strength with a little stimulant." | |
"Thank you," said my patient. "but I have felt another man since the | |
doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the | |
cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so | |
I shall start at once upon my peculiar experiences." | |
Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded | |
expression which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat | |
opposite to him, and we listened in silence to the strange story | |
which our visitor detailed to us. | |
"You must know," said he, "that I am an orphan and a bachelor, | |
residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a hydraulic | |
engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my work during | |
the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the | |
well-known firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago, having served my time, | |
and having also come into a fair sum of money through my poor | |
father's death, I determined to start in business for myself and took | |
professional chambers in Victoria Street. | |
"I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in | |
business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. | |
During two years I have had three consultations and one small job, | |
and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought me. My | |
gross takings amount to ÂŁ27 10s. Every day, from nine in the morning | |
until four in the afternoon, I waited in my little den, until at last | |
my heart began to sink, and I came to believe that I should never | |
have any practice at all. | |
"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my | |
clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see | |
me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with the name of | |
'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it. Close at his heels came | |
the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle size, but of an | |
exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a | |
man. His whole face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin | |
of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over his outstanding bones. Yet | |
this emaciation seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no | |
disease, for his eye was bright, his step brisk, and his bearing | |
assured. He was plainly but neatly dressed, and his age, I should | |
judge, would be nearer forty than thirty. | |
"'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something of a German accent. 'You | |
have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not | |
only proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable of | |
preserving a secret.' | |
"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an | |
address. 'May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?' | |
"'Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at | |
this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both an | |
orphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.' | |
"'That is quite correct,' I answered; 'but you will excuse me if I | |
say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional | |
qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter | |
that you wished to speak to me?' | |
"'Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to the | |
point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy | |
is quite essential--absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course | |
we may expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who | |
lives in the bosom of his family.' | |
"'If I promise to keep a secret,' said I, 'you may absolutely depend | |
upon my doing so.' | |
"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had | |
never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye. | |
"'Do you promise, then?' said he at last. | |
"'Yes, I promise.' | |
"'Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No | |
reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?' | |
"'I have already given you my word.' | |
"'Very good.' He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning | |
across the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was | |
empty. | |
"'That's all right,' said he, coming back. 'I know that clerks are | |
sometimes curious as to their master's affairs. Now we can talk in | |
safety.' He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare | |
at me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look. | |
"A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun to | |
rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. Even my | |
dread of losing a client could not restrain me from showing my | |
impatience. | |
"'I beg that you will state your business, sir,' said I; 'my time is | |
of value.' Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the words | |
came to my lips. | |
"'How would fifty guineas for a night's work suit you?' he asked. | |
"'Most admirably.' | |
"'I say a night's work, but an hour's would be nearer the mark. I | |
simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which has | |
got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon set it | |
right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as that?' | |
"'The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.' | |
"'Precisely so. We shall want you to come to-night by the last | |
train.' | |
"'Where to?' | |
"'To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders of | |
Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a train from | |
Paddington which would bring you there at about 11.15.' | |
"'Very good.' | |
"'I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.' | |
"'There is a drive, then?' | |
"'Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good | |
seven miles from Eyford Station.' | |
"'Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there would | |
be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop the | |
night.' | |
"'Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.' | |
"'That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient | |
hour?' | |
"'We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to | |
recompense you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a | |
young and unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very | |
heads of your profession. Still, of course, if you would like to draw | |
out of the business, there is plenty of time to do so.' | |
"I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they would be | |
to me. 'Not at all,' said I, 'I shall be very happy to accommodate | |
myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to understand a little | |
more clearly what it is that you wish me to do.' | |
"'Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which we | |
have exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I have no | |
wish to commit you to anything without your having it all laid before | |
you. I suppose that we are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers?' | |
"'Entirely.' | |
"'Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that | |
fuller's-earth is a valuable product, and that it is only found in | |
one or two places in England?' | |
"'I have heard so.' | |
"'Some little time ago I bought a small place--a very small | |
place--within ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to | |
discover that there was a deposit of fuller's-earth in one of my | |
fields. On examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a | |
comparatively small one, and that it formed a link between two very | |
much larger ones upon the right and left--both of them, however, in | |
the grounds of my neighbours. These good people were absolutely | |
ignorant that their land contained that which was quite as valuable | |
as a gold-mine. Naturally, it was to my interest to buy their land | |
before they discovered its true value, but unfortunately I had no | |
capital by which I could do this. I took a few of my friends into the | |
secret, however, and they suggested that we should quietly and | |
secretly work our own little deposit and that in this way we should | |
earn the money which would enable us to buy the neighbouring fields. | |
This we have now been doing for some time, and in order to help us in | |
our operations we erected a hydraulic press. This press, as I have | |
already explained, has got out of order, and we wish your advice upon | |
the subject. We guard our secret very jealously, however, and if it | |
once became known that we had hydraulic engineers coming to our | |
little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if the facts | |
came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting these fields | |
and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you promise me | |
that you will not tell a human being that you are going to Eyford | |
to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?' | |
"'I quite follow you,' said I. 'The only point which I could not | |
quite understand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press in | |
excavating fuller's-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out like | |
gravel from a pit.' | |
"'Ah!' said he carelessly, 'we have our own process. We compress the | |
earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what they | |
are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my | |
confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I trust you.' | |
He rose as he spoke. 'I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at 11.15.' | |
"'I shall certainly be there.' | |
"'And not a word to a soul.' He looked at me with a last long, | |
questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank grasp, | |
he hurried from the room. | |
"Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very much | |
astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission which | |
had been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was glad, for | |
the fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked had I set a | |
price upon my own services, and it was possible that this order might | |
lead to other ones. On the other hand, the face and manner of my | |
patron had made an unpleasant impression upon me, and I could not | |
think that his explanation of the fuller's-earth was sufficient to | |
explain the necessity for my coming at midnight, and his extreme | |
anxiety lest I should tell anyone of my errand. However, I threw all | |
fears to the winds, ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and | |
started off, having obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding | |
my tongue. | |
"At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station. | |
However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I reached | |
the little dim-lit station after eleven o'clock. I was the only | |
passenger who got out there, and there was no one upon the platform | |
save a single sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed out through | |
the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintance of the morning | |
waiting in the shadow upon the other side. Without a word he grasped | |
my arm and hurried me into a carriage, the door of which was standing | |
open. He drew up the windows on either side, tapped on the wood-work, | |
and away we went as fast as the horse could go." | |
"One horse?" interjected Holmes. | |
"Yes, only one." | |
"Did you observe the colour?" | |
"Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was stepping into the | |
carriage. It was a chestnut." | |
"Tired-looking or fresh?" | |
"Oh, fresh and glossy." | |
"Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue your | |
most interesting statement." | |
"Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel | |
Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should | |
think, from the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we | |
took, that it must have been nearer twelve. He sat at my side in | |
silence all the time, and I was aware, more than once when I glanced | |
in his direction, that he was looking at me with great intensity. The | |
country roads seem to be not very good in that part of the world, for | |
we lurched and jolted terribly. I tried to look out of the windows to | |
see something of where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, | |
and I could make out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a | |
passing light. Now and then I hazarded some remark to break the | |
monotony of the journey, but the colonel answered only in | |
monosyllables, and the conversation soon flagged. At last, however, | |
the bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness of a | |
gravel-drive, and the carriage came to a stand. Colonel Lysander | |
Stark sprang out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly | |
into a porch which gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, | |
right out of the carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to | |
catch the most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The instant | |
that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind us, | |
and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage drove | |
away. | |
"It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about | |
looking for matches and muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door | |
opened at the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of | |
light shot out in our direction. It grew broader, and a woman | |
appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she held above her head, | |
pushing her face forward and peering at us. I could see that she was | |
pretty, and from the gloss with which the light shone upon her dark | |
dress I knew that it was a rich material. She spoke a few words in a | |
foreign tongue in a tone as though asking a question, and when my | |
companion answered in a gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that | |
the lamp nearly fell from her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, | |
whispered something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the | |
room from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the | |
lamp in his hand. | |
"'Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a few | |
minutes,' said he, throwing open another door. It was a quiet, | |
little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on | |
which several German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down | |
the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the door. 'I shall not keep | |
you waiting an instant,' said he, and vanished into the darkness. | |
"I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance | |
of German I could see that two of them were treatises on science, the | |
others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked across to the window, | |
hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the country-side, but an | |
oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it. It was a | |
wonderfully silent house. There was an old clock ticking loudly | |
somewhere in the passage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. | |
A vague feeling of uneasiness began to steal over me. Who were these | |
German people, and what were they doing living in this strange, | |
out-of-the-way place? And where was the place? I was ten miles or so | |
from Eyford, that was all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or | |
west I had no idea. For that matter, Reading, and possibly other | |
large towns, were within that radius, so the place might not be so | |
secluded, after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute | |
stillness, that we were in the country. I paced up and down the room, | |
humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits and feeling that | |
I was thoroughly earning my fifty-guinea fee. | |
"Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the utter | |
stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman was | |
standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind her, the | |
yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and beautiful face. | |
I could see at a glance that she was sick with fear, and the sight | |
sent a chill to my own heart. She held up one shaking finger to warn | |
me to be silent, and she shot a few whispered words of broken English | |
at me, her eyes glancing back, like those of a frightened horse, into | |
the gloom behind her. | |
"'I would go,' said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to speak | |
calmly; 'I would go. I should not stay here. There is no good for you | |
to do.' | |
"'But, madam,' said I, 'I have not yet done what I came for. I cannot | |
possibly leave until I have seen the machine.' | |
"'It is not worth your while to wait,' she went on. 'You can pass | |
through the door; no one hinders.' And then, seeing that I smiled and | |
shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and made a | |
step forward, with her hands wrung together. 'For the love of | |
Heaven!' she whispered, 'get away from here before it is too late!' | |
"But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to engage | |
in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I thought of my | |
fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of the unpleasant | |
night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why | |
should I slink away without having carried out my commission, and | |
without the payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I | |
knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout bearing, therefore, though her | |
manner had shaken me more than I cared to confess, I still shook my | |
head and declared my intention of remaining where I was. She was | |
about to renew her entreaties when a door slammed overhead, and the | |
sound of several footsteps was heard upon the stairs. She listened | |
for an instant, threw up her hands with a despairing gesture, and | |
vanished as suddenly and as noiselessly as she had come. | |
"The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man with | |
a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, who | |
was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson. | |
"'This is my secretary and manager,' said the colonel. 'By the way, I | |
was under the impression that I left this door shut just now. I fear | |
that you have felt the draught.' | |
"'On the contrary,' said I, 'I opened the door myself because I felt | |
the room to be a little close.' | |
"He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. 'Perhaps we had better | |
proceed to business, then,' said he. 'Mr. Ferguson and I will take | |
you up to see the machine.' | |
"'I had better put my hat on, I suppose.' | |
"'Oh, no, it is in the house.' | |
"'What, you dig fuller's-earth in the house?' | |
"'No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. All | |
we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us know what | |
is wrong with it.' | |
"We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the fat | |
manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, with | |
corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little low doors, | |
the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the generations who had | |
crossed them. There were no carpets and no signs of any furniture | |
above the ground floor, while the plaster was peeling off the walls, | |
and the damp was breaking through in green, unhealthy blotches. I | |
tried to put on as unconcerned an air as possible, but I had not | |
forgotten the warnings of the lady, even though I disregarded them, | |
and I kept a keen eye upon my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be | |
a morose and silent man, but I could see from the little that he said | |
that he was at least a fellow-countryman. | |
"Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which he | |
unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three of us | |
could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside, and the | |
colonel ushered me in. | |
"'We are now,' said he, 'actually within the hydraulic press, and it | |
would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were to | |
turn it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the end of | |
the descending piston, and it comes down with the force of many tons | |
upon this metal floor. There are small lateral columns of water | |
outside which receive the force, and which transmit and multiply it | |
in the manner which is familiar to you. The machine goes readily | |
enough, but there is some stiffness in the working of it, and it has | |
lost a little of its force. Perhaps you will have the goodness to | |
look it over and to show us how we can set it right.' | |
"I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very | |
thoroughly. It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of exercising | |
enormous pressure. When I passed outside, however, and pressed down | |
the levers which controlled it, I knew at once by the whishing sound | |
that there was a slight leakage, which allowed a regurgitation of | |
water through one of the side cylinders. An examination showed that | |
one of the india-rubber bands which was round the head of a | |
driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to fill the socket along which | |
it worked. This was clearly the cause of the loss of power, and I | |
pointed it out to my companions, who followed my remarks very | |
carefully and asked several practical questions as to how they should | |
proceed to set it right. When I had made it clear to them, I returned | |
to the main chamber of the machine and took a good look at it to | |
satisfy my own curiosity. It was obvious at a glance that the story | |
of the fuller's-earth was the merest fabrication, for it would be | |
absurd to suppose that so powerful an engine could be designed for so | |
inadequate a purpose. The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted | |
of a large iron trough, and when I came to examine it I could see a | |
crust of metallic deposit all over it. I had stooped and was scraping | |
at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a muttered | |
exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the colonel | |
looking down at me. | |
"'What are you doing there?' he asked. | |
"I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as that | |
which he had told me. 'I was admiring your fuller's-earth,' said I; | |
'I think that I should be better able to advise you as to your | |
machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it was used.' | |
"The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of my | |
speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in his grey | |
eyes. | |
"'Very well,' said he, 'you shall know all about the machine.' He | |
took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key in | |
the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it was | |
quite secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and shoves. | |
'Hullo!' I yelled. 'Hullo! Colonel! Let me out!' | |
"And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my heart | |
into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish of the | |
leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp still stood | |
upon the floor where I had placed it when examining the trough. By | |
its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming down upon me, | |
slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than myself, with a force | |
which must within a minute grind me to a shapeless pulp. I threw | |
myself, screaming, against the door, and dragged with my nails at the | |
lock. I implored the colonel to let me out, but the remorseless | |
clanking of the levers drowned my cries. The ceiling was only a foot | |
or two above my head, and with my hand upraised I could feel its | |
hard, rough surface. Then it flashed through my mind that the pain of | |
my death would depend very much upon the position in which I met it. | |
If I lay on my face the weight would come upon my spine, and I | |
shuddered to think of that dreadful snap. Easier the other way, | |
perhaps; and yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly | |
black shadow wavering down upon me? Already I was unable to stand | |
erect, when my eye caught something which brought a gush of hope back | |
to my heart. | |
"I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the | |
walls were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw a | |
thin line of yellow light between two of the boards, which broadened | |
and broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For an instant I | |
could hardly believe that here was indeed a door which led away from | |
death. The next instant I threw myself through, and lay half-fainting | |
upon the other side. The panel had closed again behind me, but the | |
crash of the lamp, and a few moments afterwards the clang of the two | |
slabs of metal, told me how narrow had been my escape. | |
"I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and I | |
found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, while a | |
woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand, while she | |
held a candle in her right. It was the same good friend whose warning | |
I had so foolishly rejected. | |
"'Come! come!' she cried breathlessly. 'They will be here in a | |
moment. They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste the | |
so-precious time, but come!' | |
"This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to my | |
feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding stair. | |
The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we reached it we | |
heard the sound of running feet and the shouting of two voices, one | |
answering the other from the floor on which we were and from the one | |
beneath. My guide stopped and looked about her like one who is at | |
her wit's end. Then she threw open a door which led into a bedroom, | |
through the window of which the moon was shining brightly. | |
"'It is your only chance,' said she. 'It is high, but it may be that | |
you can jump it.' | |
"As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the | |
passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark rushing | |
forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a butcher's | |
cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom, flung open the | |
window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and wholesome the garden | |
looked in the moonlight, and it could not be more than thirty feet | |
down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I hesitated to jump until I | |
should have heard what passed between my saviour and the ruffian who | |
pursued me. If she were ill-used, then at any risks I was determined | |
to go back to her assistance. The thought had hardly flashed through | |
my mind before he was at the door, pushing his way past her; but she | |
threw her arms round him and tried to hold him back. | |
"'Fritz! Fritz!' she cried in English, 'remember your promise after | |
the last time. You said it should not be again. He will be silent! | |
Oh, he will be silent!' | |
"'You are mad, Elise!' he shouted, struggling to break away from her. | |
'You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me pass, I | |
say!' He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the window, cut at | |
me with his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and was hanging by the | |
hands to the sill, when his blow fell. I was conscious of a dull | |
pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the garden below. | |
"I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and | |
rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I understood | |
that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly, however, as I | |
ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me. I glanced down at | |
my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then, for the first time, | |
saw that my thumb had been cut off and that the blood was pouring | |
from my wound. I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief round it, but | |
there came a sudden buzzing in my ears, and next moment I fell in a | |
dead faint among the rose-bushes. | |
"How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been a | |
very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was | |
breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with dew, | |
and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded thumb. The | |
smarting of it recalled in an instant all the particulars of my | |
night's adventure, and I sprang to my feet with the feeling that I | |
might hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But to my astonishment, | |
when I came to look round me, neither house nor garden were to be | |
seen. I had been lying in an angle of the hedge close by the | |
highroad, and just a little lower down was a long building, which | |
proved, upon my approaching it, to be the very station at which I had | |
arrived upon the previous night. Were it not for the ugly wound upon | |
my hand, all that had passed during those dreadful hours might have | |
been an evil dream. | |
"Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning | |
train. There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The same | |
porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I arrived. I | |
inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel Lysander Stark. | |
The name was strange to him. Had he observed a carriage the night | |
before waiting for me? No, he had not. Was there a police-station | |
anywhere near? There was one about three miles off. | |
"It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined to | |
wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the police. | |
It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first to have my | |
wound dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to bring me along | |
here. I put the case into your hands and shall do exactly what you | |
advise." | |
We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to this | |
extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down from the | |
shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he placed his | |
cuttings. | |
"Here is an advertisement which will interest you," said he. "It | |
appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this: | |
"'Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a | |
hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten o'clock at night, and | |
has not been heard of since. Was dressed in--' | |
etc., etc. Ha! That represents the last time that the colonel needed | |
to have his machine overhauled, I fancy." | |
"Good heavens!" cried my patient. "Then that explains what the girl | |
said." | |
"Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and | |
desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should | |
stand in the way of his little game, like those out-and-out pirates | |
who will leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well, every moment | |
now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall go down to | |
Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for Eyford." | |
Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train together, | |
bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. There were | |
Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector Bradstreet, of | |
Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself. Bradstreet had spread | |
an ordnance map of the county out upon the seat and was busy with his | |
compasses drawing a circle with Eyford for its centre. | |
"There you are," said he. "That circle is drawn at a radius of ten | |
miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere near that | |
line. You said ten miles, I think, sir." | |
"It was an hour's good drive." | |
"And you think that they brought you back all that way when you were | |
unconscious?" | |
"They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having | |
been lifted and conveyed somewhere." | |
"What I cannot understand," said I, "is why they should have spared | |
you when they found you lying fainting in the garden. Perhaps the | |
villain was softened by the woman's entreaties." | |
"I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face in my | |
life." | |
"Oh, we shall soon clear up all that," said Bradstreet. "Well, I have | |
drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the | |
folk that we are in search of are to be found." | |
"I think I could lay my finger on it," said Holmes quietly. | |
"Really, now!" cried the inspector, "you have formed your opinion! | |
Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is south, for | |
the country is more deserted there." | |
"And I say east," said my patient. | |
"I am for west," remarked the plain-clothes man. "There are several | |
quiet little villages up there." | |
"And I am for north," said I, "because there are no hills there, and | |
our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up any." | |
"Come," cried the inspector, laughing; "it's a very pretty diversity | |
of opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do you give your | |
casting vote to?" | |
"You are all wrong." | |
"But we can't all be." | |
"Oh, yes, you can. This is my point." He placed his finger in the | |
centre of the circle. "This is where we shall find them." | |
"But the twelve-mile drive?" gasped Hatherley. | |
"Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the | |
horse was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that if | |
it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads?" | |
"Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough," observed Bradstreet | |
thoughtfully. "Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature of | |
this gang." | |
"None at all," said Holmes. "They are coiners on a large scale, and | |
have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the place | |
of silver." | |
"We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work," said | |
the inspector. "They have been turning out half-crowns by the | |
thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading, but could get no | |
farther, for they had covered their traces in a way that showed that | |
they were very old hands. But now, thanks to this lucky chance, I | |
think that we have got them right enough." | |
But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not destined | |
to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into Eyford Station | |
we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed up from behind a | |
small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense | |
ostrich feather over the landscape. | |
"A house on fire?" asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off again on | |
its way. | |
"Yes, sir!" said the station-master. | |
"When did it break out?" | |
"I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, and | |
the whole place is in a blaze." | |
"Whose house is it?" | |
"Dr. Becher's." | |
"Tell me," broke in the engineer, "is Dr. Becher a German, very thin, | |
with a long, sharp nose?" | |
The station-master laughed heartily. "No, sir, Dr. Becher is an | |
Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a | |
better-lined waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him, a | |
patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as if a | |
little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm." | |
The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all | |
hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low hill, | |
and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in front of us, | |
spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in front | |
three fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under. | |
"That's it!" cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. "There is the | |
gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That second | |
window is the one that I jumped from." | |
"Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had your revenge upon them. | |
There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was | |
crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubt | |
they were too excited in the chase after you to observe it at the | |
time. Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your friends of last | |
night, though I very much fear that they are a good hundred miles off | |
by now." | |
And Holmes' fears came to be realised, for from that day to this no | |
word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the sinister | |
German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a peasant had | |
met a cart containing several people and some very bulky boxes | |
driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but there all traces of | |
the fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes' ingenuity failed ever to | |
discover the least clue as to their whereabouts. | |
The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements which | |
they had found within, and still more so by discovering a newly | |
severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor. About | |
sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and they | |
subdued the flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, and the | |
whole place been reduced to such absolute ruin that, save some | |
twisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of the | |
machinery which had cost our unfortunate acquaintance so dearly. | |
Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored in an | |
out-house, but no coins were to be found, which may have explained | |
the presence of those bulky boxes which have been already referred | |
to. | |
How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to the | |
spot where he recovered his senses might have remained forever a | |
mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a very plain | |
tale. He had evidently been carried down by two persons, one of whom | |
had remarkably small feet and the other unusually large ones. On the | |
whole, it was most probable that the silent Englishman, being less | |
bold or less murderous than his companion, had assisted the woman to | |
bear the unconscious man out of the way of danger. | |
"Well," said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return | |
once more to London, "it has been a pretty business for me! I have | |
lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I | |
gained?" | |
"Experience," said Holmes, laughing. "Indirectly it may be of value, | |
you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation | |
of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR | |
The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have long | |
ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles in which | |
the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have eclipsed it, | |
and their more piquant details have drawn the gossips away from this | |
four-year-old drama. As I have reason to believe, however, that the | |
full facts have never been revealed to the general public, and as my | |
friend Sherlock Holmes had a considerable share in clearing the | |
matter up, I feel that no memoir of him would be complete without | |
some little sketch of this remarkable episode. | |
It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I was | |
still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came home | |
from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table waiting for | |
him. I had remained indoors all day, for the weather had taken a | |
sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, and the Jezail bullet | |
which I had brought back in one of my limbs as a relic of my Afghan | |
campaign throbbed with dull persistence. With my body in one | |
easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had surrounded myself with a | |
cloud of newspapers until at last, saturated with the news of the | |
day, I tossed them all aside and lay listless, watching the huge | |
crest and monogram upon the envelope upon the table and wondering | |
lazily who my friend's noble correspondent could be. | |
"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered. "Your | |
morning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a | |
tide-waiter." | |
"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," he | |
answered, smiling, "and the humbler are usually the more interesting. | |
This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which call | |
upon a man either to be bored or to lie." | |
He broke the seal and glanced over the contents. | |
"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all." | |
"Not social, then?" | |
"No, distinctly professional." | |
"And from a noble client?" | |
"One of the highest in England." | |
"My dear fellow, I congratulate you." | |
"I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my | |
client is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his | |
case. It is just possible, however, that that also may not be wanting | |
in this new investigation. You have been reading the papers | |
diligently of late, have you not?" | |
"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in the | |
corner. "I have had nothing else to do." | |
"It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I read | |
nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The latter is | |
always instructive. But if you have followed recent events so closely | |
you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his wedding?" | |
"Oh, yes, with the deepest interest." | |
"That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord St. | |
Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn over these | |
papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter. This is what | |
he says: | |
"'My dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes: | |
"'Lord Backwater tells me that I may place implicit reliance upon | |
your judgment and discretion. I have determined, therefore, to call | |
upon you and to consult you in reference to the very painful event | |
which has occurred in connection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of | |
Scotland Yard, is acting already in the matter, but he assures me | |
that he sees no objection to your co-operation, and that he even | |
thinks that it might be of some assistance. I will call at four | |
o'clock in the afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement | |
at that time, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of | |
paramount importance. | |
"'Yours faithfully, | |
"'St. Simon.' | |
"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, and | |
the noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the | |
outer side of his right little finger," remarked Holmes as he folded | |
up the epistle. | |
"He says four o'clock. It is three now. He will be here in an hour." | |
"Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon the | |
subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in their | |
order of time, while I take a glance as to who our client is." He | |
picked a red-covered volume from a line of books of reference beside | |
the mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sitting down and flattening | |
it out upon his knee. "'Lord Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, | |
second son of the Duke of Balmoral.' Hum! 'Arms: Azure, three | |
caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born in 1846.' He's forty-one | |
years of age, which is mature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for | |
the colonies in a late administration. The Duke, his father, was at | |
one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs. They inherit Plantagenet | |
blood by direct descent, and Tudor on the distaff side. Ha! Well, | |
there is nothing very instructive in all this. I think that I must | |
turn to you Watson, for something more solid." | |
"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I, "for | |
the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as remarkable. I | |
feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew that you had an | |
inquiry on hand and that you disliked the intrusion of other | |
matters." | |
"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square furniture | |
van. That is quite cleared up now--though, indeed, it was obvious | |
from the first. Pray give me the results of your newspaper | |
selections." | |
"Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal | |
column of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks back: | |
"'A marriage has been arranged [it says] and will, if rumour is | |
correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert St. Simon, | |
second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, the only | |
daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.' | |
That is all." | |
"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long, thin | |
legs towards the fire. | |
"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society papers | |
of the same week. Ah, here it is: | |
"'There will soon be a call for protection in the marriage market, | |
for the present free-trade principle appears to tell heavily against | |
our home product. One by one the management of the noble houses of | |
Great Britain is passing into the hands of our fair cousins from | |
across the Atlantic. An important addition has been made during the | |
last week to the list of the prizes which have been borne away by | |
these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself for | |
over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows, has now | |
definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty Doran, | |
the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. Miss Doran, | |
whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much attention at | |
the Westbury House festivities, is an only child, and it is currently | |
reported that her dowry will run to considerably over the six | |
figures, with expectancies for the future. As it is an open secret | |
that the Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to sell his pictures | |
within the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has no property of | |
his own save the small estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the | |
Californian heiress is not the only gainer by an alliance which will | |
enable her to make the easy and common transition from a Republican | |
lady to a British peeress.'" | |
"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning. | |
"Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning Post to | |
say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it would | |
be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen intimate | |
friends would be invited, and that the party would return to the | |
furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has been taken by Mr. | |
Aloysius Doran. Two days later--that is, on Wednesday last--there is | |
a curt announcement that the wedding had taken place, and that the | |
honeymoon would be passed at Lord Backwater's place, near | |
Petersfield. Those are all the notices which appeared before the | |
disappearance of the bride." | |
"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start. | |
"The vanishing of the lady." | |
"When did she vanish, then?" | |
"At the wedding breakfast." | |
"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite | |
dramatic, in fact." | |
"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common." | |
"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during the | |
honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt as | |
this. Pray let me have the details." | |
"I warn you that they are very incomplete." | |
"Perhaps we may make them less so." | |
"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a | |
morning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is headed, | |
'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding': | |
"'The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the | |
greatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes which have | |
taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, as shortly | |
announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the previous | |
morning; but it is only now that it has been possible to confirm the | |
strange rumours which have been so persistently floating about. In | |
spite of the attempts of the friends to hush the matter up, so much | |
public attention has now been drawn to it that no good purpose can be | |
served by affecting to disregard what is a common subject for | |
conversation. | |
"'The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, Hanover Square, | |
was a very quiet one, no one being present save the father of the | |
bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, Lord Backwater, | |
Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the younger brother and sister | |
of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington. The whole party | |
proceeded afterwards to the house of Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster | |
Gate, where breakfast had been prepared. It appears that some little | |
trouble was caused by a woman, whose name has not been ascertained, | |
who endeavoured to force her way into the house after the bridal | |
party, alleging that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was | |
only after a painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the | |
butler and the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the | |
house before this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast | |
with the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition and | |
retired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused some | |
comment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid that she | |
had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up an ulster | |
and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of the footmen | |
declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thus apparelled, but | |
had refused to credit that it was his mistress, believing her to be | |
with the company. On ascertaining that his daughter had disappeared, | |
Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction with the bridegroom, instantly put | |
themselves in communication with the police, and very energetic | |
inquiries are being made, which will probably result in a speedy | |
clearing up of this very singular business. Up to a late hour last | |
night, however, nothing had transpired as to the whereabouts of the | |
missing lady. There are rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is | |
said that the police have caused the arrest of the woman who had | |
caused the original disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or | |
some other motive, she may have been concerned in the strange | |
disappearance of the bride.'" | |
"And is that all?" | |
"Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is a | |
suggestive one." | |
"And it is--" | |
"That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, has | |
actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a danseuse | |
at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom for some years. | |
There are no further particulars, and the whole case is in your hands | |
now--so far as it has been set forth in the public press." | |
"And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would not | |
have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson, | |
and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt | |
that this will prove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going, | |
Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, if only as a check | |
to my own memory." | |
"Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our page-boy, throwing open the | |
door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, high-nosed | |
and pale, with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, and | |
with the steady, well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it had | |
ever been to command and to be obeyed. His manner was brisk, and yet | |
his general appearance gave an undue impression of age, for he had a | |
slight forward stoop and a little bend of the knees as he walked. His | |
hair, too, as he swept off his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled | |
round the edges and thin upon the top. As to his dress, it was | |
careful to the verge of foppishness, with high collar, black | |
frock-coat, white waistcoat, yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and | |
light-coloured gaiters. He advanced slowly into the room, turning his | |
head from left to right, and swinging in his right hand the cord | |
which held his golden eyeglasses. | |
"Good-day, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bowing. "Pray | |
take the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. | |
Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk this matter over." | |
"A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, Mr. | |
Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you have | |
already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I | |
presume that they were hardly from the same class of society." | |
"No, I am descending." | |
"I beg pardon." | |
"My last client of the sort was a king." | |
"Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?" | |
"The King of Scandinavia." | |
"What! Had he lost his wife?" | |
"You can understand," said Holmes suavely, "that I extend to the | |
affairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to you | |
in yours." | |
"Of course! Very right! very right! I'm sure I beg pardon. As to my | |
own case, I am ready to give you any information which may assist you | |
in forming an opinion." | |
"Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public prints, | |
nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct--this article, | |
for example, as to the disappearance of the bride." | |
Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is correct, as far as it | |
goes." | |
"But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could offer | |
an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most directly by | |
questioning you." | |
"Pray do so." | |
"When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?" | |
"In San Francisco, a year ago." | |
"You were travelling in the States?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Did you become engaged then?" | |
"No." | |
"But you were on a friendly footing?" | |
"I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was amused." | |
"Her father is very rich?" | |
"He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope." | |
"And how did he make his money?" | |
"In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold, | |
invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds." | |
"Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady's--your wife's | |
character?" | |
The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down into | |
the fire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was twenty before | |
her father became a rich man. During that time she ran free in a | |
mining camp and wandered through woods or mountains, so that her | |
education has come from Nature rather than from the schoolmaster. She | |
is what we call in England a tomboy, with a strong nature, wild and | |
free, unfettered by any sort of traditions. She is | |
impetuous--volcanic, I was about to say. She is swift in making up | |
her mind and fearless in carrying out her resolutions. On the other | |
hand, I would not have given her the name which I have the honour to | |
bear"--he gave a little stately cough--"had not I thought her to be | |
at bottom a noble woman. I believe that she is capable of heroic | |
self-sacrifice and that anything dishonourable would be repugnant to | |
her." | |
"Have you her photograph?" | |
"I brought this with me." He opened a locket and showed us the full | |
face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an ivory | |
miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effect of the | |
lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and the exquisite mouth. | |
Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he closed the locket and | |
handed it back to Lord St. Simon. | |
"The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed your | |
acquaintance?" | |
"Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I met | |
her several times, became engaged to her, and have now married her." | |
"She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?" | |
"A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family." | |
"And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a fait | |
accompli?" | |
"I really have made no inquiries on the subject." | |
"Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before the | |
wedding?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Was she in good spirits?" | |
"Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our future | |
lives." | |
"Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the | |
wedding?" | |
"She was as bright as possible--at least until after the ceremony." | |
"And did you observe any change in her then?" | |
"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had ever | |
seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident however, | |
was too trivial to relate and can have no possible bearing upon the | |
case." | |
"Pray let us have it, for all that." | |
"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards the | |
vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it fell over | |
into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but the gentleman in the | |
pew handed it up to her again, and it did not appear to be the worse | |
for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of the matter, she answered me | |
abruptly; and in the carriage, on our way home, she seemed absurdly | |
agitated over this trifling cause." | |
"Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of the | |
general public were present, then?" | |
"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is open." | |
"This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?" | |
"No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a | |
common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But really I | |
think that we are wandering rather far from the point." | |
"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less cheerful | |
frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on re-entering | |
her father's house?" | |
"I saw her in conversation with her maid." | |
"And who is her maid?" | |
"Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California with | |
her." | |
"A confidential servant?" | |
"A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her | |
to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they look upon | |
these things in a different way." | |
"How long did she speak to this Alice?" | |
"Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of." | |
"You did not overhear what they said?" | |
"Lady St. Simon said something about 'jumping a claim.' She was | |
accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she meant." | |
"American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your wife | |
do when she finished speaking to her maid?" | |
"She walked into the breakfast-room." | |
"On your arm?" | |
"No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. | |
Then, after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose | |
hurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She | |
never came back." | |
"But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to her | |
room, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on a bonnet, | |
and went out." | |
"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in | |
company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who had | |
already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house that morning." | |
"Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, and | |
your relations to her." | |
Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. "We | |
have been on a friendly footing for some years--I may say on a very | |
friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have not treated | |
her ungenerously, and she had no just cause of complaint against me, | |
but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes. Flora was a dear little | |
thing, but exceedingly hot-headed and devotedly attached to me. She | |
wrote me dreadful letters when she heard that I was about to be | |
married, and, to tell the truth, the reason why I had the marriage | |
celebrated so quietly was that I feared lest there might be a scandal | |
in the church. She came to Mr. Doran's door just after we returned, | |
and she endeavoured to push her way in, uttering very abusive | |
expressions towards my wife, and even threatening her, but I had | |
foreseen the possibility of something of the sort, and I had two | |
police fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out | |
again. She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making a | |
row." | |
"Did your wife hear all this?" | |
"No, thank goodness, she did not." | |
"And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?" | |
"Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as so | |
serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid some | |
terrible trap for her." | |
"Well, it is a possible supposition." | |
"You think so, too?" | |
"I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon this | |
as likely?" | |
"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly." | |
"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray what is | |
your own theory as to what took place?" | |
"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I have | |
given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may say that it | |
has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of this affair, | |
the consciousness that she had made so immense a social stride, had | |
the effect of causing some little nervous disturbance in my wife." | |
"In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?" | |
"Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back--I will | |
not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to without | |
success--I can hardly explain it in any other fashion." | |
"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," said Holmes, | |
smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have nearly all my | |
data. May I ask whether you were seated at the breakfast-table so | |
that you could see out of the window?" | |
"We could see the other side of the road and the Park." | |
"Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. I | |
shall communicate with you." | |
"Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem," said our | |
client, rising. | |
"I have solved it." | |
"Eh? What was that?" | |
"I say that I have solved it." | |
"Where, then, is my wife?" | |
"That is a detail which I shall speedily supply." | |
Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid that it will take wiser | |
heads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in a stately, | |
old-fashioned manner he departed. | |
"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting it on | |
a level with his own," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "I think that | |
I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all this | |
cross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the case before | |
our client came into the room." | |
"My dear Holmes!" | |
"I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I remarked | |
before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination served to | |
turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial evidence is | |
occasionally very convincing, as when you find a trout in the milk, | |
to quote Thoreau's example." | |
"But I have heard all that you have heard." | |
"Without, however, the knowledge of pre-existing cases which serves | |
me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some years | |
back, and something on very much the same lines at Munich the year | |
after the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these cases--but, hullo, | |
here is Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra | |
tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are cigars in the box." | |
The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat, which | |
gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a black | |
canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seated himself and | |
lit the cigar which had been offered to him. | |
"What's up, then?" asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. "You look | |
dissatisfied." | |
"And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage | |
case. I can make neither head nor tail of the business." | |
"Really! You surprise me." | |
"Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slip | |
through my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day." | |
"And very wet it seems to have made you," said Holmes laying his hand | |
upon the arm of the pea-jacket. | |
"Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine." | |
"In heaven's name, what for?" | |
"In search of the body of Lady St. Simon." | |
Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. | |
"Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?" he asked. | |
"Why? What do you mean?" | |
"Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in the | |
one as in the other." | |
Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. "I suppose you know | |
all about it," he snarled. | |
"Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up." | |
"Oh, indeed! Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part in the | |
matter?" | |
"I think it very unlikely." | |
"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this in | |
it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a | |
wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin shoes and a | |
bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked in water. | |
"There," said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of the | |
pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, Master Holmes." | |
"Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. "You | |
dragged them from the Serpentine?" | |
"No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. They | |
have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the | |
clothes were there the body would not be far off." | |
"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found in | |
the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to | |
arrive at through this?" | |
"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance." | |
"I am afraid that you will find it difficult." | |
"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "I am | |
afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your deductions | |
and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as many minutes. | |
This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar." | |
"And how?" | |
"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the | |
card-case is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped it down | |
upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this: | |
"'You will see me when all is ready. Come at once. | |
"'F.H.M.' | |
Now my theory all along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away | |
by Flora Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was | |
responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her initials, is | |
the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped into her hand at the | |
door and which lured her within their reach." | |
"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are very | |
fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a listless way, | |
but his attention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry | |
of satisfaction. "This is indeed important," said he. | |
"Ha! you find it so?" | |
"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly." | |
Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," he | |
shrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side!" | |
"On the contrary, this is the right side." | |
"The right side? You're mad! Here is the note written in pencil over | |
here." | |
"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel bill, | |
which interests me deeply." | |
"There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade. | |
"'Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s. | |
6d., glass sherry, 8d.' I see nothing in that." | |
"Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note, | |
it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate | |
you again." | |
"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in hard | |
work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day, | |
Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter | |
first." He gathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and | |
made for the door. | |
"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rival | |
vanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St. | |
Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any such | |
person." | |
Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tapped | |
his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried away. | |
He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on his | |
overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about outdoor | |
work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must leave you to | |
your papers for a little." | |
It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had no | |
time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a confectioner's | |
man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked with the help of a | |
youth whom he had brought with him, and presently, to my very great | |
astonishment, a quite epicurean little cold supper began to be laid | |
out upon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of | |
brace of cold woodcock, a pheasant, a pâté de foie gras pie with a | |
group of ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these | |
luxuries, my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the | |
Arabian Nights, with no explanation save that the things had been | |
paid for and were ordered to this address. | |
Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the | |
room. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his eye | |
which made me think that he had not been disappointed in his | |
conclusions. | |
"They have laid the supper, then," he said, rubbing his hands. | |
"You seem to expect company. They have laid for five." | |
"Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in," said he. "I am | |
surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I fancy | |
that I hear his step now upon the stairs." | |
It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in, | |
dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a very | |
perturbed expression upon his aristocratic features. | |
"My messenger reached you, then?" asked Holmes. | |
"Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure. | |
Have you good authority for what you say?" | |
"The best possible." | |
Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over his | |
forehead. | |
"What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when he hears that one of the | |
family has been subjected to such humiliation?" | |
"It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any | |
humiliation." | |
"Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint." | |
"I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the lady | |
could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of doing it was | |
undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she had no one to | |
advise her at such a crisis." | |
"It was a slight, sir, a public slight," said Lord St. Simon, tapping | |
his fingers upon the table. | |
"You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in so | |
unprecedented a position." | |
"I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have been | |
shamefully used." | |
"I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes. "Yes, there are steps on | |
the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view of the | |
matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here who may be | |
more successful." He opened the door and ushered in a lady and | |
gentleman. "Lord St. Simon," said he "allow me to introduce you to | |
Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I think, you have already | |
met." | |
At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his seat | |
and stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand thrust | |
into the breast of his frock-coat, a picture of offended dignity. The | |
lady had taken a quick step forward and had held out her hand to him, | |
but he still refused to raise his eyes. It was as well for his | |
resolution, perhaps, for her pleading face was one which it was hard | |
to resist. | |
"You're angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I guess you have every cause | |
to be." | |
"Pray make no apology to me," said Lord St. Simon bitterly. | |
"Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that I should | |
have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind of rattled, and from | |
the time when I saw Frank here again I just didn't know what I was | |
doing or saying. I only wonder I didn't fall down and do a faint | |
right there before the altar." | |
"Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave the | |
room while you explain this matter?" | |
"If I may give an opinion," remarked the strange gentleman, "we've | |
had just a little too much secrecy over this business already. For my | |
part, I should like all Europe and America to hear the rights of it." | |
He was a small, wiry, sunburnt man, clean-shaven, with a sharp face | |
and alert manner. | |
"Then I'll tell our story right away," said the lady. "Frank here and | |
I met in '84, in McQuire's camp, near the Rockies, where pa was | |
working a claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I; but then | |
one day father struck a rich pocket and made a pile, while poor Frank | |
here had a claim that petered out and came to nothing. The richer pa | |
grew the poorer was Frank; so at last pa wouldn't hear of our | |
engagement lasting any longer, and he took me away to 'Frisco. Frank | |
wouldn't throw up his hand, though; so he followed me there, and he | |
saw me without pa knowing anything about it. It would only have made | |
him mad to know, so we just fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said | |
that he would go and make his pile, too, and never come back to claim | |
me until he had as much as pa. So then I promised to wait for him to | |
the end of time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he | |
lived. 'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'and | |
then I will feel sure of you; and I won't claim to be your husband | |
until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he had fixed it all | |
up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, that we just did | |
it right there; and then Frank went off to seek his fortune, and I | |
went back to pa. | |
"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then he | |
went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New Mexico. | |
After that came a long newspaper story about how a miners' camp had | |
been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was my Frank's name among | |
the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was very sick for months | |
after. Pa thought I had a decline and took me to half the doctors in | |
'Frisco. Not a word of news came for a year and more, so that I never | |
doubted that Frank was really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to | |
'Frisco, and we came to London, and a marriage was arranged, and pa | |
was very pleased, but I felt all the time that no man on this earth | |
would ever take the place in my heart that had been given to my poor | |
Frank. | |
"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done my | |
duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can our actions. I | |
went to the altar with him with the intention to make him just as | |
good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may imagine what I felt | |
when, just as I came to the altar rails, I glanced back and saw Frank | |
standing and looking at me out of the first pew. I thought it was his | |
ghost at first; but when I looked again there he was still, with a | |
kind of question in his eyes, as if to ask me whether I were glad or | |
sorry to see him. I wonder I didn't drop. I know that everything was | |
turning round, and the words of the clergyman were just like the buzz | |
of a bee in my ear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the | |
service and make a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and | |
he seemed to know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to | |
his lips to tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece | |
of paper, and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his | |
pew on the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped | |
the note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a | |
line asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so. Of | |
course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was now to | |
him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct. | |
"When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, and | |
had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get | |
a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to have | |
spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before his mother | |
and all those great people. I just made up my mind to run away and | |
explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten minutes before I | |
saw Frank out of the window at the other side of the road. He | |
beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park. I slipped out, | |
put on my things, and followed him. Some woman came talking something | |
or other about Lord St. Simon to me--seemed to me from the little I | |
heard as if he had a little secret of his own before marriage | |
also--but I managed to get away from her and soon overtook Frank. We | |
got into a cab together, and away we drove to some lodgings he had | |
taken in Gordon Square, and that was my true wedding after all those | |
years of waiting. Frank had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had | |
escaped, came on to 'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead | |
and had gone to England, followed me there, and had come upon me at | |
last on the very morning of my second wedding." | |
"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name and | |
the church but not where the lady lived." | |
"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all for | |
openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should | |
like to vanish away and never see any of them again--just sending a | |
line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awful to me | |
to think of all those lords and ladies sitting round that | |
breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. So Frank took my | |
wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of them, so that I | |
should not be traced, and dropped them away somewhere where no one | |
could find them. It is likely that we should have gone on to Paris | |
to-morrow, only that this good gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to | |
us this evening, though how he found us is more than I can think, and | |
he showed us very clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank | |
was right, and that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we | |
were so secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to | |
Lord St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at | |
once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I | |
have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very meanly of | |
me." | |
Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but had | |
listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long | |
narrative. | |
"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my most | |
intimate personal affairs in this public manner." | |
"Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?" | |
"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put out his | |
hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him. | |
"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us in a | |
friendly supper." | |
"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his | |
Lordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments, | |
but I can hardly be expected to make merry over them. I think that | |
with your permission I will now wish you all a very good-night." He | |
included us all in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the room. | |
"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company," | |
said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr. | |
Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a | |
monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not | |
prevent our children from being some day citizens of the same | |
world-wide country under a flag which shall be a quartering of the | |
Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes." | |
"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when our | |
visitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how | |
simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight seems | |
to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural than the | |
sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing stranger | |
than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. Lestrade of | |
Scotland Yard." | |
"You were not yourself at fault at all, then?" | |
"From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that the | |
lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the | |
other that she had repented of it within a few minutes of returning | |
home. Obviously something had occurred during the morning, then, to | |
cause her to change her mind. What could that something be? She could | |
not have spoken to anyone when she was out, for she had been in the | |
company of the bridegroom. Had she seen someone, then? If she had, it | |
must be someone from America because she had spent so short a time in | |
this country that she could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so | |
deep an influence over her that the mere sight of him would induce | |
her to change her plans so completely. You see we have already | |
arrived, by a process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have | |
seen an American. Then who could this American be, and why should he | |
possess so much influence over her? It might be a lover; it might be | |
a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough | |
scenes and under strange conditions. So far I had got before I ever | |
heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew, | |
of the change in the bride's manner, of so transparent a device for | |
obtaining a note as the dropping of a bouquet, of her resort to her | |
confidential maid, and of her very significant allusion to | |
claim-jumping--which in miners' parlance means taking possession of | |
that which another person has a prior claim to--the whole situation | |
became absolutely clear. She had gone off with a man, and the man was | |
either a lover or was a previous husband--the chances being in favour | |
of the latter." | |
"And how in the world did you find them?" | |
"It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held information | |
in his hands the value of which he did not himself know. The initials | |
were, of course, of the highest importance, but more valuable still | |
was it to know that within a week he had settled his bill at one of | |
the most select London hotels." | |
"How did you deduce the select?" | |
"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence for a | |
glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive hotels. There | |
are not many in London which charge at that rate. In the second one | |
which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, I learned by an inspection | |
of the book that Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman, had left | |
only the day before, and on looking over the entries against him, I | |
came upon the very items which I had seen in the duplicate bill. His | |
letters were to be forwarded to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I | |
travelled, and being fortunate enough to find the loving couple at | |
home, I ventured to give them some paternal advice and to point out | |
to them that it would be better in every way that they should make | |
their position a little clearer both to the general public and to | |
Lord St. Simon in particular. I invited them to meet him here, and, | |
as you see, I made him keep the appointment." | |
"But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct was | |
certainly not very gracious." | |
"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not be very | |
gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you | |
found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of fortune. I think | |
that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully and thank our stars | |
that we are never likely to find ourselves in the same position. Draw | |
your chair up and hand me my violin, for the only problem we have | |
still to solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal evenings." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET | |
"Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking | |
down the street, "here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad | |
that his relatives should allow him to come out alone." | |
My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in | |
the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a | |
bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still | |
lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down | |
the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly | |
band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of | |
the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey | |
pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously | |
slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, | |
from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save | |
the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention. | |
He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a | |
massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed | |
in a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat, shining hat, neat | |
brown gaiters, and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were | |
in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he | |
was running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man | |
gives who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his legs. As he | |
ran he jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and writhed | |
his face into the most extraordinary contortions. | |
"What on earth can be the matter with him?" I asked. "He is looking | |
up at the numbers of the houses." | |
"I believe that he is coming here," said Holmes, rubbing his hands. | |
"Here?" | |
"Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I | |
think that I recognise the symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you?" As he | |
spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at | |
our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging. | |
A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still | |
gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his | |
eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity. | |
For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and | |
plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme | |
limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat | |
his head against the wall with such force that we both rushed upon | |
him and tore him away to the centre of the room. Sherlock Holmes | |
pushed him down into the easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted | |
his hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing tones which he | |
knew so well how to employ. | |
"You have come to me to tell your story, have you not?" said he. "You | |
are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until you have recovered | |
yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into any little | |
problem which you may submit to me." | |
The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting | |
against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow, | |
set his lips tight, and turned his face towards us. | |
"No doubt you think me mad?" said he. | |
"I see that you have had some great trouble," responded Holmes. | |
"God knows I have!--a trouble which is enough to unseat my reason, so | |
sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might have faced, | |
although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain. | |
Private affliction also is the lot of every man; but the two coming | |
together, and in so frightful a form, have been enough to shake my | |
very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land | |
may suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair." | |
"Pray compose yourself, sir," said Holmes, "and let me have a clear | |
account of who you are and what it is that has befallen you." | |
"My name," answered our visitor, "is probably familiar to your ears. | |
I am Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder & Stevenson, of | |
Threadneedle Street." | |
The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior | |
partner in the second largest private banking concern in the City of | |
London. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the foremost | |
citizens of London to this most pitiable pass? We waited, all | |
curiosity, until with another effort he braced himself to tell his | |
story. | |
"I feel that time is of value," said he; "that is why I hastened here | |
when the police inspector suggested that I should secure your | |
co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried | |
from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is | |
why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little | |
exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the facts before you as | |
shortly and yet as clearly as I can. | |
"It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking | |
business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative | |
investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection and | |
the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means of | |
laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security is | |
unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction during the | |
last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have | |
advanced large sums upon the security of their pictures, libraries, | |
or plate. | |
"Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a card | |
was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I saw the | |
name, for it was that of none other than--well, perhaps even to you I | |
had better say no more than that it was a name which is a household | |
word all over the earth--one of the highest, noblest, most exalted | |
names in England. I was overwhelmed by the honour and attempted, when | |
he entered, to say so, but he plunged at once into business with the | |
air of a man who wishes to hurry quickly through a disagreeable task. | |
"'Mr. Holder,' said he, 'I have been informed that you are in the | |
habit of advancing money.' | |
"'The firm does so when the security is good.' I answered. | |
"'It is absolutely essential to me,' said he, 'that I should have | |
ÂŁ50,000 at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten | |
times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it a matter of | |
business and to carry out that business myself. In my position you | |
can readily understand that it is unwise to place one's self under | |
obligations.' | |
"'For how long, may I ask, do you want this sum?' I asked. | |
"'Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most | |
certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it | |
right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the money should | |
be paid at once.' | |
"'I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my own | |
private purse,' said I, 'were it not that the strain would be rather | |
more than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do it in the | |
name of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must insist that, | |
even in your case, every businesslike precaution should be taken.' | |
"'I should much prefer to have it so,' said he, raising up a square, | |
black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair. 'You have | |
doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?' | |
"'One of the most precious public possessions of the empire,' said I. | |
"'Precisely.' He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft, | |
flesh-coloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery which | |
he had named. 'There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,' said he, 'and | |
the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The lowest estimate | |
would put the worth of the coronet at double the sum which I have | |
asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my security.' | |
"I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some perplexity | |
from it to my illustrious client. | |
"'You doubt its value?' he asked. | |
"'Not at all. I only doubt--' | |
"'The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest about | |
that. I should not dream of doing so were it not absolutely certain | |
that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a pure matter | |
of form. Is the security sufficient?' | |
"'Ample.' | |
"'You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof of | |
the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I have | |
heard of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to refrain | |
from all gossip upon the matter but, above all, to preserve this | |
coronet with every possible precaution because I need not say that a | |
great public scandal would be caused if any harm were to befall it. | |
Any injury to it would be almost as serious as its complete loss, for | |
there are no beryls in the world to match these, and it would be | |
impossible to replace them. I leave it with you, however, with every | |
confidence, and I shall call for it in person on Monday morning.' | |
"Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more but, | |
calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty ÂŁ1000 notes. | |
When I was alone once more, however, with the precious case lying | |
upon the table in front of me, I could not but think with some | |
misgivings of the immense responsibility which it entailed upon me. | |
There could be no doubt that, as it was a national possession, a | |
horrible scandal would ensue if any misfortune should occur to it. I | |
already regretted having ever consented to take charge of it. | |
However, it was too late to alter the matter now, so I locked it up | |
in my private safe and turned once more to my work. | |
"When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave so | |
precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers' safes had been | |
forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how terrible | |
would be the position in which I should find myself! I determined, | |
therefore, that for the next few days I would always carry the case | |
backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of | |
my reach. With this intention, I called a cab and drove out to my | |
house at Streatham, carrying the jewel with me. I did not breathe | |
freely until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of | |
my dressing-room. | |
"And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes, for I wish you to | |
thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep out | |
of the house, and may be set aside altogether. I have three | |
maid-servants who have been with me a number of years and whose | |
absolute reliability is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy Parr, | |
the second waiting-maid, has only been in my service a few months. | |
She came with an excellent character, however, and has always given | |
me satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has attracted admirers | |
who have occasionally hung about the place. That is the only drawback | |
which we have found to her, but we believe her to be a thoroughly | |
good girl in every way. | |
"So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it will | |
not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an only son, | |
Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes--a grievous | |
disappointment. I have no doubt that I am myself to blame. People | |
tell me that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have. When my dear | |
wife died I felt that he was all I had to love. I could not bear to | |
see the smile fade even for a moment from his face. I have never | |
denied him a wish. Perhaps it would have been better for both of us | |
had I been sterner, but I meant it for the best. | |
"It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my | |
business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, wayward, | |
and, to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the handling of | |
large sums of money. When he was young he became a member of an | |
aristocratic club, and there, having charming manners, he was soon | |
the intimate of a number of men with long purses and expensive | |
habits. He learned to play heavily at cards and to squander money on | |
the turf, until he had again and again to come to me and implore me | |
to give him an advance upon his allowance, that he might settle his | |
debts of honour. He tried more than once to break away from the | |
dangerous company which he was keeping, but each time the influence | |
of his friend, Sir George Burnwell, was enough to draw him back | |
again. | |
"And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George | |
Burnwell should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently | |
brought him to my house, and I have found myself that I could hardly | |
resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man | |
of the world to his finger-tips, one who had been everywhere, seen | |
everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beauty. | |
Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of | |
his presence, I am convinced from his cynical speech and the look | |
which I have caught in his eyes that he is one who should be deeply | |
distrusted. So I think, and so, too, thinks my little Mary, who has a | |
woman's quick insight into character. | |
"And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece; but when | |
my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world I | |
adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my daughter. She | |
is a sunbeam in my house--sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful | |
manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a | |
woman could be. She is my right hand. I do not know what I could do | |
without her. In only one matter has she ever gone against my wishes. | |
Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly, | |
but each time she has refused him. I think that if anyone could have | |
drawn him into the right path it would have been she, and that his | |
marriage might have changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too | |
late--forever too late! | |
"Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I | |
shall continue with my miserable story. | |
"When we were taking coffee in the drawing-room that night after | |
dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious | |
treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name of my | |
client. Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am sure, | |
left the room; but I cannot swear that the door was closed. Mary and | |
Arthur were much interested and wished to see the famous coronet, but | |
I thought it better not to disturb it. | |
"'Where have you put it?' asked Arthur. | |
"'In my own bureau.' | |
"'Well, I hope to goodness the house won't be burgled during the | |
night.' said he. | |
"'It is locked up,' I answered. | |
"'Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I have | |
opened it myself with the key of the box-room cupboard.' | |
"He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thought little of what | |
he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with a very | |
grave face. | |
"'Look here, dad,' said he with his eyes cast down, 'can you let me | |
have ÂŁ200?' | |
"'No, I cannot!' I answered sharply. 'I have been far too generous | |
with you in money matters.' | |
"'You have been very kind,' said he, 'but I must have this money, or | |
else I can never show my face inside the club again.' | |
"'And a very good thing, too!' I cried. | |
"'Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man,' said | |
he. 'I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money in some | |
way, and if you will not let me have it, then I must try other | |
means.' | |
"I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the month. | |
'You shall not have a farthing from me,' I cried, on which he bowed | |
and left the room without another word. | |
"When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my treasure | |
was safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go round the house | |
to see that all was secure--a duty which I usually leave to Mary but | |
which I thought it well to perform myself that night. As I came down | |
the stairs I saw Mary herself at the side window of the hall, which | |
she closed and fastened as I approached. | |
"'Tell me, dad,' said she, looking, I thought, a little disturbed, | |
'did you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out to-night?' | |
"'Certainly not.' | |
"'She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she has | |
only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that it is | |
hardly safe and should be stopped.' | |
"'You must speak to her in the morning, or I will if you prefer it. | |
Are you sure that everything is fastened?' | |
"'Quite sure, dad.' | |
"'Then, good-night.' I kissed her and went up to my bedroom again, | |
where I was soon asleep. | |
"I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may have | |
any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question me upon | |
any point which I do not make clear." | |
"On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid." | |
"I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be | |
particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety in my | |
mind tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than usual. About two | |
in the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in the house. It | |
had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an impression behind | |
it as though a window had gently closed somewhere. I lay listening | |
with all my ears. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a distinct sound | |
of footsteps moving softly in the next room. I slipped out of bed, | |
all palpitating with fear, and peeped round the corner of my | |
dressing-room door. | |
"'Arthur!' I screamed, 'you villain! you thief! How dare you touch | |
that coronet?' | |
"The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, dressed | |
only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the light, | |
holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be wrenching at it, | |
or bending it with all his strength. At my cry he dropped it from his | |
grasp and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it. | |
One of the gold corners, with three of the beryls in it, was missing. | |
"'You blackguard!' I shouted, beside myself with rage. 'You have | |
destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels | |
which you have stolen?' | |
"'Stolen!' he cried. | |
"'Yes, thief!' I roared, shaking him by the shoulder. | |
"'There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,' said he. | |
"'There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I call | |
you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off | |
another piece?' | |
"'You have called me names enough,' said he, 'I will not stand it any | |
longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you | |
have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and | |
make my own way in the world.' | |
"'You shall leave it in the hands of the police!' I cried half-mad | |
with grief and rage. 'I shall have this matter probed to the bottom.' | |
"'You shall learn nothing from me,' said he with a passion such as I | |
should not have thought was in his nature. 'If you choose to call the | |
police, let the police find what they can.' | |
"By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my voice in | |
my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, at the sight | |
of the coronet and of Arthur's face, she read the whole story and, | |
with a scream, fell down senseless on the ground. I sent the | |
house-maid for the police and put the investigation into their hands | |
at once. When the inspector and a constable entered the house, | |
Arthur, who had stood sullenly with his arms folded, asked me whether | |
it was my intention to charge him with theft. I answered that it had | |
ceased to be a private matter, but had become a public one, since the | |
ruined coronet was national property. I was determined that the law | |
should have its way in everything. | |
"'At least,' said he, 'you will not have me arrested at once. It | |
would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house | |
for five minutes.' | |
"'That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you | |
have stolen,' said I. And then, realising the dreadful position in | |
which I was placed, I implored him to remember that not only my | |
honour but that of one who was far greater than I was at stake; and | |
that he threatened to raise a scandal which would convulse the | |
nation. He might avert it all if he would but tell me what he had | |
done with the three missing stones. | |
"'You may as well face the matter,' said I; 'you have been caught in | |
the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. If you | |
but make such reparation as is in your power, by telling us where the | |
beryls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.' | |
"'Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it,' he answered, | |
turning away from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened for | |
any words of mine to influence him. There was but one way for it. I | |
called in the inspector and gave him into custody. A search was made | |
at once not only of his person but of his room and of every portion | |
of the house where he could possibly have concealed the gems; but no | |
trace of them could be found, nor would the wretched boy open his | |
mouth for all our persuasions and our threats. This morning he was | |
removed to a cell, and I, after going through all the police | |
formalities, have hurried round to you to implore you to use your | |
skill in unravelling the matter. The police have openly confessed | |
that they can at present make nothing of it. You may go to any | |
expense which you think necessary. I have already offered a reward of | |
ÂŁ1000. My God, what shall I do! I have lost my honour, my gems, and | |
my son in one night. Oh, what shall I do!" | |
He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to and | |
fro, droning to himself like a child whose grief has got beyond | |
words. | |
Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows | |
knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire. | |
"Do you receive much company?" he asked. | |
"None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of | |
Arthur's. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No one | |
else, I think." | |
"Do you go out much in society?" | |
"Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for it." | |
"That is unusual in a young girl." | |
"She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She is | |
four-and-twenty." | |
"This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to her | |
also." | |
"Terrible! She is even more affected than I." | |
"You have neither of you any doubt as to your son's guilt?" | |
"How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet in | |
his hands." | |
"I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of the | |
coronet at all injured?" | |
"Yes, it was twisted." | |
"Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to straighten | |
it?" | |
"God bless you! You are doing what you can for him and for me. But it | |
is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If his purpose | |
were innocent, why did he not say so?" | |
"Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? His | |
silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several singular | |
points about the case. What did the police think of the noise which | |
awoke you from your sleep?" | |
"They considered that it might be caused by Arthur's closing his | |
bedroom door." | |
"A likely story! As if a man bent on felony would slam his door so as | |
to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the disappearance of | |
these gems?" | |
"They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture in | |
the hope of finding them." | |
"Have they thought of looking outside the house?" | |
"Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden has | |
already been minutely examined." | |
"Now, my dear sir," said Holmes. "is it not obvious to you now that | |
this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you or the | |
police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you to be a | |
simple case; to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider what is | |
involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came down from his | |
bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room, opened your bureau, | |
took out your coronet, broke off by main force a small portion of it, | |
went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of the | |
thirty-nine, with such skill that nobody can find them, and then | |
returned with the other thirty-six into the room in which he exposed | |
himself to the greatest danger of being discovered. I ask you now, is | |
such a theory tenable?" | |
"But what other is there?" cried the banker with a gesture of | |
despair. "If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain | |
them?" | |
"It is our task to find that out," replied Holmes; "so now, if you | |
please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, and | |
devote an hour to glancing a little more closely into details." | |
My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, | |
which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy were | |
deeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I confess that | |
the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be as obvious as it | |
did to his unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes' | |
judgment that I felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long | |
as he was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He hardly spoke | |
a word the whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with his | |
chin upon his breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the | |
deepest thought. Our client appeared to have taken fresh heart at the | |
little glimpse of hope which had been presented to him, and he even | |
broke into a desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A | |
short railway journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the | |
modest residence of the great financier. | |
Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing back | |
a little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-clad | |
lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed | |
the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket, which led | |
into a narrow path between two neat hedges stretching from the road | |
to the kitchen door, and forming the tradesmen's entrance. On the | |
left ran a lane which led to the stables, and was not itself within | |
the grounds at all, being a public, though little used, thoroughfare. | |
Holmes left us standing at the door and walked slowly all round the | |
house, across the front, down the tradesmen's path, and so round by | |
the garden behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. | |
Holder and I went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until | |
he should return. We were sitting there in silence when the door | |
opened and a young lady came in. She was rather above the middle | |
height, slim, with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker | |
against the absolute pallor of her skin. I do not think that I have | |
ever seen such deadly paleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were | |
bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept | |
silently into the room she impressed me with a greater sense of grief | |
than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the more striking | |
in her as she was evidently a woman of strong character, with immense | |
capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding my presence, she went | |
straight to her uncle and passed her hand over his head with a sweet | |
womanly caress. | |
"You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you not, | |
dad?" she asked. | |
"No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to the bottom." | |
"But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman's | |
instincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will be | |
sorry for having acted so harshly." | |
"Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent?" | |
"Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should suspect | |
him." | |
"How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with the | |
coronet in his hand?" | |
"Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take my | |
word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say no more. | |
It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in a prison!" | |
"I shall never let it drop until the gems are found--never, Mary! | |
Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences to | |
me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman down | |
from London to inquire more deeply into it." | |
"This gentleman?" she asked, facing round to me. | |
"No, his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round in the | |
stable lane now." | |
"The stable lane?" She raised her dark eyebrows. "What can he hope to | |
find there? Ah! this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, that you will | |
succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth, that my cousin | |
Arthur is innocent of this crime." | |
"I fully share your opinion, and I trust, with you, that we may prove | |
it," returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the snow from | |
his shoes. "I believe I have the honour of addressing Miss Mary | |
Holder. Might I ask you a question or two?" | |
"Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up." | |
"You heard nothing yourself last night?" | |
"Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heard that, | |
and I came down." | |
"You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you fasten | |
all the windows?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Were they all fastened this morning?" | |
"Yes." | |
"You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked to | |
your uncle last night that she had been out to see him?" | |
"Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and who | |
may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet." | |
"I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her sweetheart, | |
and that the two may have planned the robbery." | |
"But what is the good of all these vague theories," cried the banker | |
impatiently, "when I have told you that I saw Arthur with the coronet | |
in his hands?" | |
"Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this | |
girl, Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I | |
presume?" | |
"Yes; when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I met | |
her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom." | |
"Do you know him?" | |
"Oh, yes! he is the green-grocer who brings our vegetables round. | |
His name is Francis Prosper." | |
"He stood," said Holmes, "to the left of the door--that is to say, | |
farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door?" | |
"Yes, he did." | |
"And he is a man with a wooden leg?" | |
Something like fear sprang up in the young lady's expressive black | |
eyes. "Why, you are like a magician," said she. "How do you know | |
that?" She smiled, but there was no answering smile in Holmes' thin, | |
eager face. | |
"I should be very glad now to go upstairs," said he. "I shall | |
probably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps I | |
had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up." | |
He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at the | |
large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. This he | |
opened and made a very careful examination of the sill with his | |
powerful magnifying lens. "Now we shall go upstairs," said he at | |
last. | |
The banker's dressing-room was a plainly furnished little chamber, | |
with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror. Holmes went to | |
the bureau first and looked hard at the lock. | |
"Which key was used to open it?" he asked. | |
"That which my son himself indicated--that of the cupboard of the | |
lumber-room." | |
"Have you it here?" | |
"That is it on the dressing-table." | |
Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau. | |
"It is a noiseless lock," said he. "It is no wonder that it did not | |
wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must have a | |
look at it." He opened the case, and taking out the diadem he laid it | |
upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the jeweller's art, | |
and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I have ever seen. At | |
one side of the coronet was a cracked edge, where a corner holding | |
three gems had been torn away. | |
"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "here is the corner which corresponds | |
to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I beg that you | |
will break it off." | |
The banker recoiled in horror. "I should not dream of trying," said | |
he. | |
"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but without | |
result. "I feel it give a little," said he; "but, though I am | |
exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my time to | |
break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do you think | |
would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would be a noise | |
like a pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this happened within a | |
few yards of your bed and that you heard nothing of it?" | |
"I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me." | |
"But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think, Miss | |
Holder?" | |
"I confess that I still share my uncle's perplexity." | |
"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him?" | |
"He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt." | |
"Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary luck | |
during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault if we do | |
not succeed in clearing the matter up. With your permission, Mr. | |
Holder, I shall now continue my investigations outside." | |
He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any | |
unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an hour | |
or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet heavy with | |
snow and his features as inscrutable as ever. | |
"I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. Holder," | |
said he; "I can serve you best by returning to my rooms." | |
"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?" | |
"I cannot tell." | |
The banker wrung his hands. "I shall never see them again!" he cried. | |
"And my son? You give me hopes?" | |
"My opinion is in no way altered." | |
"Then, for God's sake, what was this dark business which was acted in | |
my house last night?" | |
"If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms to-morrow morning | |
between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to make it | |
clearer. I understand that you give me carte blanche to act for you, | |
provided only that I get back the gems, and that you place no limit | |
on the sum I may draw." | |
"I would give my fortune to have them back." | |
"Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then. | |
Good-bye; it is just possible that I may have to come over here again | |
before evening." | |
It was obvious to me that my companion's mind was now made up about | |
the case, although what his conclusions were was more than I could | |
even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward journey I | |
endeavoured to sound him upon the point, but he always glided away to | |
some other topic, until at last I gave it over in despair. It was not | |
yet three when we found ourselves in our rooms once more. He hurried | |
to his chamber and was down again in a few minutes dressed as a | |
common loafer. With his collar turned up, his shiny, seedy coat, his | |
red cravat, and his worn boots, he was a perfect sample of the class. | |
"I think that this should do," said he, glancing into the glass above | |
the fireplace. "I only wish that you could come with me, Watson, but | |
I fear that it won't do. I may be on the trail in this matter, or I | |
may be following a will-o'-the-wisp, but I shall soon know which it | |
is. I hope that I may be back in a few hours." He cut a slice of beef | |
from the joint upon the sideboard, sandwiched it between two rounds | |
of bread, and thrusting this rude meal into his pocket he started off | |
upon his expedition. | |
I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in excellent | |
spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his hand. He chucked | |
it down into a corner and helped himself to a cup of tea. | |
"I only looked in as I passed," said he. "I am going right on." | |
"Where to?" | |
"Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time before I | |
get back. Don't wait up for me in case I should be late." | |
"How are you getting on?" | |
"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham | |
since I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a very | |
sweet little problem, and I would not have missed it for a good deal. | |
However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get these | |
disreputable clothes off and return to my highly respectable self." | |
I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for | |
satisfaction than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled, and | |
there was even a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He hastened | |
upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of the hall door, | |
which told me that he was off once more upon his congenial hunt. | |
I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so I | |
retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away for | |
days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that his | |
lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he came | |
in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there he was | |
with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the other, as fresh | |
and trim as possible. | |
"You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson," said he, "but you | |
remember that our client has rather an early appointment this | |
morning." | |
"Why, it is after nine now," I answered. "I should not be surprised | |
if that were he. I thought I heard a ring." | |
It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the change | |
which had come over him, for his face which was naturally of a broad | |
and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in, while his hair | |
seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered with a weariness and | |
lethargy which was even more painful than his violence of the morning | |
before, and he dropped heavily into the armchair which I pushed | |
forward for him. | |
"I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried," said he. | |
"Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without a care | |
in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured age. One | |
sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece, Mary, has | |
deserted me." | |
"Deserted you?" | |
"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was empty, | |
and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to her last | |
night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had married my boy all | |
might have been well with him. Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to | |
say so. It is to that remark that she refers in this note: | |
"'My dearest Uncle: | |
"'I feel that I have brought trouble upon you, and that if I had | |
acted differently this terrible misfortune might never have occurred. | |
I cannot, with this thought in my mind, ever again be happy under | |
your roof, and I feel that I must leave you forever. Do not worry | |
about my future, for that is provided for; and, above all, do not | |
search for me, for it will be fruitless labour and an ill-service to | |
me. In life or in death, I am ever | |
"'Your loving | |
"'Mary.' | |
"What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it points | |
to suicide?" | |
"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible | |
solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your | |
troubles." | |
"Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. Holmes; you have | |
learned something! Where are the gems?" | |
"You would not think ÂŁ1000 pounds apiece an excessive sum for them?" | |
"I would pay ten." | |
"That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. And | |
there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your check-book? Here is | |
a pen. Better make it out for ÂŁ4000." | |
With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes | |
walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of gold | |
with three gems in it, and threw it down upon the table. | |
With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up. | |
"You have it!" he gasped. "I am saved! I am saved!" | |
The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and he | |
hugged his recovered gems to his bosom. | |
"There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder," said Sherlock Holmes | |
rather sternly. | |
"Owe!" He caught up a pen. "Name the sum, and I will pay it." | |
"No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that | |
noble lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I | |
should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to have | |
one." | |
"Then it was not Arthur who took them?" | |
"I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not." | |
"You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him know | |
that the truth is known." | |
"He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an interview | |
with him, and finding that he would not tell me the story, I told it | |
to him, on which he had to confess that I was right and to add the | |
very few details which were not yet quite clear to me. Your news of | |
this morning, however, may open his lips." | |
"For heaven's sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary | |
mystery!" | |
"I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached it. | |
And let me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me to say | |
and for you to hear: there has been an understanding between Sir | |
George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together." | |
"My Mary? Impossible!" | |
"It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither you | |
nor your son knew the true character of this man when you admitted | |
him into your family circle. He is one of the most dangerous men in | |
England--a ruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man | |
without heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. | |
When he breathed his vows to her, as he had done to a hundred before | |
her, she flattered herself that she alone had touched his heart. The | |
devil knows best what he said, but at least she became his tool and | |
was in the habit of seeing him nearly every evening." | |
"I cannot, and I will not, believe it!" cried the banker with an | |
ashen face. | |
"I will tell you, then, what occurred in your house last night. Your | |
niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room, slipped down | |
and talked to her lover through the window which leads into the | |
stable lane. His footmarks had pressed right through the snow, so | |
long had he stood there. She told him of the coronet. His wicked lust | |
for gold kindled at the news, and he bent her to his will. I have no | |
doubt that she loved you, but there are women in whom the love of a | |
lover extinguishes all other loves, and I think that she must have | |
been one. She had hardly listened to his instructions when she saw | |
you coming downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and | |
told you about one of the servants' escapade with her wooden-legged | |
lover, which was all perfectly true. | |
"Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but he | |
slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. In the | |
middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, so he rose | |
and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin walking very | |
stealthily along the passage until she disappeared into your | |
dressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad slipped on some | |
clothes and waited there in the dark to see what would come of this | |
strange affair. Presently she emerged from the room again, and in the | |
light of the passage-lamp your son saw that she carried the precious | |
coronet in her hands. She passed down the stairs, and he, thrilling | |
with horror, ran along and slipped behind the curtain near your door, | |
whence he could see what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her | |
stealthily open the window, hand out the coronet to someone in the | |
gloom, and then closing it once more hurry back to her room, passing | |
quite close to where he stood hid behind the curtain. | |
"As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action without | |
a horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the instant that | |
she was gone he realised how crushing a misfortune this would be for | |
you, and how all-important it was to set it right. He rushed down, | |
just as he was, in his bare feet, opened the window, sprang out into | |
the snow, and ran down the lane, where he could see a dark figure in | |
the moonlight. Sir George Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur | |
caught him, and there was a struggle between them, your lad tugging | |
at one side of the coronet, and his opponent at the other. In the | |
scuffle, your son struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then | |
something suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the | |
coronet in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to | |
your room, and had just observed that the coronet had been twisted in | |
the struggle and was endeavouring to straighten it when you appeared | |
upon the scene." | |
"Is it possible?" gasped the banker. | |
"You then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when he | |
felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He could not explain | |
the true state of affairs without betraying one who certainly | |
deserved little enough consideration at his hands. He took the more | |
chivalrous view, however, and preserved her secret." | |
"And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the coronet," | |
cried Mr. Holder. "Oh, my God! what a blind fool I have been! And his | |
asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes! The dear fellow | |
wanted to see if the missing piece were at the scene of the struggle. | |
How cruelly I have misjudged him!" | |
"When I arrived at the house," continued Holmes, "I at once went very | |
carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in the snow | |
which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since the evening | |
before, and also that there had been a strong frost to preserve | |
impressions. I passed along the tradesmen's path, but found it all | |
trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it, however, at the | |
far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stood and talked with a | |
man, whose round impressions on one side showed that he had a wooden | |
leg. I could even tell that they had been disturbed, for the woman | |
had run back swiftly to the door, as was shown by the deep toe and | |
light heel marks, while Wooden-leg had waited a little, and then had | |
gone away. I thought at the time that this might be the maid and her | |
sweetheart, of whom you had already spoken to me, and inquiry showed | |
it was so. I passed round the garden without seeing anything more | |
than random tracks, which I took to be the police; but when I got | |
into the stable lane a very long and complex story was written in the | |
snow in front of me. | |
"There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a second | |
double line which I saw with delight belonged to a man with naked | |
feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told me that the | |
latter was your son. The first had walked both ways, but the other | |
had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in places over the | |
depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had passed after the | |
other. I followed them up and found they led to the hall window, | |
where Boots had worn all the snow away while waiting. Then I walked | |
to the other end, which was a hundred yards or more down the lane. I | |
saw where Boots had faced round, where the snow was cut up as though | |
there had been a struggle, and, finally, where a few drops of blood | |
had fallen, to show me that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run | |
down the lane, and another little smudge of blood showed that it was | |
he who had been hurt. When he came to the highroad at the other end, | |
I found that the pavement had been cleared, so there was an end to | |
that clue. | |
"On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember, the | |
sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could at | |
once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguish the outline | |
of an instep where the wet foot had been placed in coming in. I was | |
then beginning to be able to form an opinion as to what had occurred. | |
A man had waited outside the window; someone had brought the gems; | |
the deed had been overseen by your son; he had pursued the thief; had | |
struggled with him; they had each tugged at the coronet, their united | |
strength causing injuries which neither alone could have effected. He | |
had returned with the prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of | |
his opponent. So far I was clear. The question now was, who was the | |
man and who was it brought him the coronet? | |
"It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the | |
impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. | |
Now, I knew that it was not you who had brought it down, so there | |
only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were the maids, why | |
should your son allow himself to be accused in their place? There | |
could be no possible reason. As he loved his cousin, however, there | |
was an excellent explanation why he should retain her secret--the | |
more so as the secret was a disgraceful one. When I remembered that | |
you had seen her at that window, and how she had fainted on seeing | |
the coronet again, my conjecture became a certainty. | |
"And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently, for | |
who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must feel to | |
you? I knew that you went out little, and that your circle of friends | |
was a very limited one. But among them was Sir George Burnwell. I had | |
heard of him before as being a man of evil reputation among women. It | |
must have been he who wore those boots and retained the missing gems. | |
Even though he knew that Arthur had discovered him, he might still | |
flatter himself that he was safe, for the lad could not say a word | |
without compromising his own family. | |
"Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I took next. I | |
went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George's house, managed to pick | |
up an acquaintance with his valet, learned that his master had cut | |
his head the night before, and, finally, at the expense of six | |
shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of his cast-off shoes. With | |
these I journeyed down to Streatham and saw that they exactly fitted | |
the tracks." | |
"I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening," said | |
Mr. Holder. | |
"Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home and | |
changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to play then, | |
for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to avert scandal, and I | |
knew that so astute a villain would see that our hands were tied in | |
the matter. I went and saw him. At first, of course, he denied | |
everything. But when I gave him every particular that had occurred, | |
he tried to bluster and took down a life-preserver from the wall. I | |
knew my man, however, and I clapped a pistol to his head before he | |
could strike. Then he became a little more reasonable. I told him | |
that we would give him a price for the stones he held--ÂŁ1000 apiece. | |
That brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. 'Why, | |
dash it all!' said he, 'I've let them go at six hundred for the | |
three!' I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had | |
them, on promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I set | |
to him, and after much chaffering I got our stones at 1000 pounds | |
apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him that all was right, | |
and eventually got to my bed about two o'clock, after what I may call | |
a really hard day's work." | |
"A day which has saved England from a great public scandal," said the | |
banker, rising. "Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but you shall | |
not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your skill has indeed | |
exceeded all that I have heard of it. And now I must fly to my dear | |
boy to apologise to him for the wrong which I have done him. As to | |
what you tell me of poor Mary, it goes to my very heart. Not even | |
your skill can inform me where she is now." | |
"I think that we may safely say," returned Holmes, "that she is | |
wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that | |
whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than sufficient | |
punishment." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES | |
"To the man who loves art for its own sake," remarked Sherlock | |
Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily Telegraph, | |
"it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations | |
that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to | |
observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth that in | |
these little records of our cases which you have been good enough to | |
draw up, and, I am bound to say, occasionally to embellish, you have | |
given prominence not so much to the many causes célèbres and | |
sensational trials in which I have figured but rather to those | |
incidents which may have been trivial in themselves, but which have | |
given room for those faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis | |
which I have made my special province." | |
"And yet," said I, smiling, "I cannot quite hold myself absolved from | |
the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my | |
records." | |
"You have erred, perhaps," he observed, taking up a glowing cinder | |
with the tongs and lighting with it the long cherry-wood pipe which | |
was wont to replace his clay when he was in a disputatious rather | |
than a meditative mood--"you have erred perhaps in attempting to put | |
colour and life into each of your statements instead of confining | |
yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning | |
from cause to effect which is really the only notable feature about | |
the thing." | |
"It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter," I | |
remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which | |
I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend's | |
singular character. | |
"No, it is not selfishness or conceit," said he, answering, as was | |
his wont, my thoughts rather than my words. "If I claim full justice | |
for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing--a thing beyond | |
myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the | |
logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell. You have | |
degraded what should have been a course of lectures into a series of | |
tales." | |
It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after breakfast | |
on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A | |
thick fog rolled down between the lines of dun-coloured houses, and | |
the opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through the | |
heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shone on the white cloth | |
and glimmer of china and metal, for the table had not been cleared | |
yet. Sherlock Holmes had been silent all the morning, dipping | |
continuously into the advertisement columns of a succession of papers | |
until at last, having apparently given up his search, he had emerged | |
in no very sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings. | |
"At the same time," he remarked after a pause, during which he had | |
sat puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, "you can | |
hardly be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of these cases | |
which you have been so kind as to interest yourself in, a fair | |
proportion do not treat of crime, in its legal sense, at all. The | |
small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the | |
singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the problem connected | |
with the man with the twisted lip, and the incident of the noble | |
bachelor, were all matters which are outside the pale of the law. But | |
in avoiding the sensational, I fear that you may have bordered on the | |
trivial." | |
"The end may have been so," I answered, "but the methods I hold to | |
have been novel and of interest." | |
"Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unobservant | |
public, who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor | |
by his left thumb, care about the finer shades of analysis and | |
deduction! But, indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot blame you, for | |
the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal man, | |
has lost all enterprise and originality. As to my own little | |
practice, it seems to be degenerating into an agency for recovering | |
lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from | |
boarding-schools. I think that I have touched bottom at last, | |
however. This note I had this morning marks my zero-point, I fancy. | |
Read it!" He tossed a crumpled letter across to me. | |
It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening, and ran | |
thus: | |
Dear Mr. Holmes: | |
I am very anxious to consult you as to whether I should or should not | |
accept a situation which has been offered to me as governess. I shall | |
call at half-past ten to-morrow if I do not inconvenience you. | |
Yours faithfully, | |
Violet Hunter. | |
"Do you know the young lady?" I asked. | |
"Not I." | |
"It is half-past ten now." | |
"Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring." | |
"It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember | |
that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere | |
whim at first, developed into a serious investigation. It may be so | |
in this case, also." | |
"Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, for | |
here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question." | |
As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. She | |
was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled | |
like a plover's egg, and with the brisk manner of a woman who has had | |
her own way to make in the world. | |
"You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure," said she, as my | |
companion rose to greet her, "but I have had a very strange | |
experience, and as I have no parents or relations of any sort from | |
whom I could ask advice, I thought that perhaps you would be kind | |
enough to tell me what I should do." | |
"Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything that | |
I can to serve you." | |
I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner and | |
speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching | |
fashion, and then composed himself, with his lids drooping and his | |
finger-tips together, to listen to her story. | |
"I have been a governess for five years," said she, "in the family of | |
Colonel Spence Munro, but two months ago the colonel received an | |
appointment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and took his children over to | |
America with him, so that I found myself without a situation. I | |
advertised, and I answered advertisements, but without success. At | |
last the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was | |
at my wit's end as to what I should do. | |
"There is a well-known agency for governesses in the West End called | |
Westaway's, and there I used to call about once a week in order to | |
see whether anything had turned up which might suit me. Westaway was | |
the name of the founder of the business, but it is really managed by | |
Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and the ladies who | |
are seeking employment wait in an anteroom, and are then shown in one | |
by one, when she consults her ledgers and sees whether she has | |
anything which would suit them. | |
"Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office as | |
usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously | |
stout man with a very smiling face and a great heavy chin which | |
rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at her elbow with a | |
pair of glasses on his nose, looking very earnestly at the ladies who | |
entered. As I came in he gave quite a jump in his chair and turned | |
quickly to Miss Stoper. | |
"'That will do,' said he; 'I could not ask for anything better. | |
Capital! capital!' He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his hands | |
together in the most genial fashion. He was such a | |
comfortable-looking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at him. | |
"'You are looking for a situation, miss?' he asked. | |
"'Yes, sir.' | |
"'As governess?' | |
"'Yes, sir.' | |
"'And what salary do you ask?' | |
"'I had ÂŁ4 a month in my last place with Colonel Spence Munro.' | |
"'Oh, tut, tut! sweating--rank sweating!' he cried, throwing his fat | |
hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. 'How | |
could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions | |
and accomplishments?' | |
"'My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine,' said I. 'A | |
little French, a little German, music, and drawing--' | |
"'Tut, tut!' he cried. 'This is all quite beside the question. The | |
point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment of a | |
lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fitted | |
for the rearing of a child who may some day play a considerable part | |
in the history of the country. But if you have why, then, how could | |
any gentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the | |
three figures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at ÂŁ100 a | |
year.' | |
"You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such an | |
offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, | |
seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, opened a | |
pocket-book and took out a note. | |
"'It is also my custom,' said he, smiling in the most pleasant | |
fashion until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid the | |
white creases of his face, 'to advance to my young ladies half their | |
salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little expenses of their | |
journey and their wardrobe.' | |
"It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so | |
thoughtful a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the | |
advance was a great convenience, and yet there was something | |
unnatural about the whole transaction which made me wish to know a | |
little more before I quite committed myself. | |
"'May I ask where you live, sir?' said I. | |
"'Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper Beeches, five miles on | |
the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my dear | |
young lady, and the dearest old country-house.' | |
"'And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know what they would be.' | |
"'One child--one dear little romper just six years old. Oh, if you | |
could see him killing cockroaches with a slipper! Smack! smack! | |
smack! Three gone before you could wink!' He leaned back in his chair | |
and laughed his eyes into his head again. | |
"I was a little startled at the nature of the child's amusement, but | |
the father's laughter made me think that perhaps he was joking. | |
"'My sole duties, then,' I asked, 'are to take charge of a single | |
child?' | |
"'No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady,' he cried. | |
'Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would suggest, to | |
obey any little commands my wife might give, provided always that | |
they were such commands as a lady might with propriety obey. You see | |
no difficulty, heh?' | |
"'I should be happy to make myself useful.' | |
"'Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you | |
know--faddy but kind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress | |
which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim. | |
Heh?' | |
"'No,' said I, considerably astonished at his words. | |
"'Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensive to you?' | |
"'Oh, no.' | |
"'Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us?' | |
"I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, my | |
hair is somewhat luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of | |
chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of | |
sacrificing it in this offhand fashion. | |
"'I am afraid that that is quite impossible,' said I. He had been | |
watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a shadow | |
pass over his face as I spoke. | |
"'I am afraid that it is quite essential,' said he. 'It is a little | |
fancy of my wife's, and ladies' fancies, you know, madam, ladies' | |
fancies must be consulted. And so you won't cut your hair?' | |
"'No, sir, I really could not,' I answered firmly. | |
"'Ah, very well; then that quite settles the matter. It is a pity, | |
because in other respects you would really have done very nicely. In | |
that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more of your young | |
ladies.' | |
"The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers without a | |
word to either of us, but she glanced at me now with so much | |
annoyance upon her face that I could not help suspecting that she had | |
lost a handsome commission through my refusal. | |
"'Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books?' she asked. | |
"'If you please, Miss Stoper.' | |
"'Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refuse the most | |
excellent offers in this fashion,' said she sharply. 'You can hardly | |
expect us to exert ourselves to find another such opening for you. | |
Good-day to you, Miss Hunter.' She struck a gong upon the table, and | |
I was shown out by the page. | |
"Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found little | |
enough in the cupboard, and two or three bills upon the table. I | |
began to ask myself whether I had not done a very foolish thing. | |
After all, if these people had strange fads and expected obedience on | |
the most extraordinary matters, they were at least ready to pay for | |
their eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting ÂŁ100 | |
a year. Besides, what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved | |
by wearing it short and perhaps I should be among the number. Next | |
day I was inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day | |
after I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to | |
go back to the agency and inquire whether the place was still open | |
when I received this letter from the gentleman himself. I have it | |
here and I will read it to you: | |
"'The Copper Beeches, near Winchester. | |
"'Dear Miss Hunter: | |
"'Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your address, and I write from | |
here to ask you whether you have reconsidered your decision. My wife | |
is very anxious that you should come, for she has been much attracted | |
by my description of you. We are willing to give ÂŁ30 a quarter, or | |
ÂŁ120 a year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience | |
which our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. | |
My wife is fond of a particular shade of electric blue and would like | |
you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. You need not, | |
however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one | |
belonging to my dear daughter Alice (now in Philadelphia), which | |
would, I should think, fit you very well. Then, as to sitting here or | |
there, or amusing yourself in any manner indicated, that need cause | |
you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity, | |
especially as I could not help remarking its beauty during our short | |
interview, but I am afraid that I must remain firm upon this point, | |
and I only hope that the increased salary may recompense you for the | |
loss. Your duties, as far as the child is concerned, are very light. | |
Now do try to come, and I shall meet you with the dog-cart at | |
Winchester. Let me know your train. | |
"'Yours faithfully, | |
"'Jephro Rucastle.' | |
"That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and my | |
mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, that | |
before taking the final step I should like to submit the whole matter | |
to your consideration." | |
"Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the | |
question," said Holmes, smiling. | |
"But you would not advise me to refuse?" | |
"I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to see a | |
sister of mine apply for." | |
"What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself formed | |
some opinion?" | |
"Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. | |
Rucastle seemed to be a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not | |
possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the | |
matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that he | |
humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an outbreak?" | |
"That is a possible solution--in fact, as matters stand, it is the | |
most probable one. But in any case it does not seem to be a nice | |
household for a young lady." | |
"But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money!" | |
"Well, yes, of course the pay is good--too good. That is what makes | |
me uneasy. Why should they give you ÂŁ120 a year, when they could have | |
their pick for ÂŁ40? There must be some strong reason behind." | |
"I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would understand | |
afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so much stronger if I | |
felt that you were at the back of me." | |
"Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that your | |
little problem promises to be the most interesting which has come my | |
way for some months. There is something distinctly novel about some | |
of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt or in danger--" | |
"Danger! What danger do you foresee?" | |
Holmes shook his head gravely. "It would cease to be a danger if we | |
could define it," said he. "But at any time, day or night, a telegram | |
would bring me down to your help." | |
"That is enough." She rose briskly from her chair with the anxiety | |
all swept from her face. "I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in | |
my mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once, sacrifice my poor | |
hair to-night, and start for Winchester to-morrow." With a few | |
grateful words to Holmes she bade us both good-night and bustled off | |
upon her way. | |
"At least," said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descending the | |
stairs, "she seems to be a young lady who is very well able to take | |
care of herself." | |
"And she would need to be," said Holmes gravely. "I am much mistaken | |
if we do not hear from her before many days are past." | |
It was not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled. A | |
fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts | |
turning in her direction and wondering what strange side-alley of | |
human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual | |
salary, the curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to | |
something abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot, or whether the | |
man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond my powers | |
to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently for | |
half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he | |
swept the matter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. | |
"Data! data! data!" he cried impatiently. "I can't make bricks | |
without clay." And yet he would always wind up by muttering that no | |
sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation. | |
The telegram which we eventually received came late one night just as | |
I was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down to one of | |
those all-night chemical researches which he frequently indulged in, | |
when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a test-tube at | |
night and find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast | |
in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope, and then, glancing at | |
the message, threw it across to me. | |
"Just look up the trains in Bradshaw," said he, and turned back to | |
his chemical studies. | |
The summons was a brief and urgent one. | |
Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday to-morrow | |
[it said]. Do come! I am at my wit's end. | |
Hunter. | |
"Will you come with me?" asked Holmes, glancing up. | |
"I should wish to." | |
"Just look it up, then." | |
"There is a train at half-past nine," said I, glancing over my | |
Bradshaw. "It is due at Winchester at 11.30." | |
"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my | |
analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the | |
morning." | |
By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old | |
English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the | |
way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he threw them | |
down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a | |
light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting | |
across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet | |
there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a | |
man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills | |
around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings | |
peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage. | |
"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the enthusiasm | |
of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street. | |
But Holmes shook his head gravely. | |
"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a | |
mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with | |
reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered | |
houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and | |
the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation | |
and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there." | |
"Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these dear | |
old homesteads?" | |
"They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, | |
founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in | |
London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the | |
smiling and beautiful countryside." | |
"You horrify me!" | |
"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can | |
do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so | |
vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard's | |
blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbours, | |
and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word | |
of complaint can set it going, and there is but a step between the | |
crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own | |
fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know | |
little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden | |
wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and | |
none the wiser. Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live | |
in Winchester, I should never have had a fear for her. It is the five | |
miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she | |
is not personally threatened." | |
"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away." | |
"Quite so. She has her freedom." | |
"What can be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?" | |
"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would | |
cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct | |
can only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no | |
doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the cathedral, | |
and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell." | |
The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no distance | |
from the station, and there we found the young lady waiting for us. | |
She had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch awaited us upon the | |
table. | |
"I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It is so | |
very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I should do. | |
Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me." | |
"Pray tell us what has happened to you." | |
"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle | |
to be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this | |
morning, though he little knew for what purpose." | |
"Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long | |
thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen. | |
"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no | |
actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to | |
them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and I am not easy in | |
my mind about them." | |
"What can you not understand?" | |
"Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just as | |
it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me | |
in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he said, beautifully | |
situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square | |
block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp | |
and bad weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides, | |
and on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton | |
highroad, which curves past about a hundred yards from the front | |
door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all | |
round are part of Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper | |
beeches immediately in front of the hall door has given its name to | |
the place. | |
"I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and | |
was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There | |
was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to us to be | |
probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is not mad. I | |
found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her | |
husband, not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be | |
less than forty-five. From their conversation I have gathered that | |
they have been married about seven years, that he was a widower, and | |
that his only child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone | |
to Philadelphia. Mr. Rucastle told me in private that the reason why | |
she had left them was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her | |
stepmother. As the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I | |
can quite imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with | |
her father's young wife. | |
"Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in | |
feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was | |
a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted | |
both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey eyes | |
wandered continually from one to the other, noting every little want | |
and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her also in his | |
bluff, boisterous fashion, and on the whole they seemed to be a happy | |
couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow, this woman. She would | |
often be lost in deep thought, with the saddest look upon her face. | |
More than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought | |
sometimes that it was the disposition of her child which weighed upon | |
her mind, for I have never met so utterly spoiled and so ill-natured | |
a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which is | |
quite disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in | |
an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of | |
sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be | |
his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in | |
planning the capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would | |
rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he has | |
little to do with my story." | |
"I am glad of all details," remarked my friend, "whether they seem to | |
you to be relevant or not." | |
"I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant | |
thing about the house, which struck me at once, was the appearance | |
and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a man and his wife. | |
Toller, for that is his name, is a rough, uncouth man, with grizzled | |
hair and whiskers, and a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have | |
been with them he has been quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed | |
to take no notice of it. His wife is a very tall and strong woman | |
with a sour face, as silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less amiable. | |
They are a most unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my | |
time in the nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in | |
one corner of the building. | |
"For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was very | |
quiet; on the third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after breakfast and | |
whispered something to her husband. | |
"'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to you, | |
Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your | |
hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest iota from | |
your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue dress will | |
become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and | |
if you would be so good as to put it on we should both be extremely | |
obliged.' | |
"The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of | |
blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it bore | |
unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not have been | |
a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs. | |
Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which seemed quite | |
exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for me in the | |
drawing-room, which is a very large room, stretching along the entire | |
front of the house, with three long windows reaching down to the | |
floor. A chair had been placed close to the central window, with its | |
back turned towards it. In this I was asked to sit, and then Mr. | |
Rucastle, walking up and down on the other side of the room, began to | |
tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened | |
to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was | |
quite weary. Mrs. Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of | |
humour, never so much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap, | |
and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, Mr. | |
Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of | |
the day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in | |
the nursery. | |
"Two days later this same performance was gone through under exactly | |
similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I sat in the | |
window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny stories of | |
which my employer had an immense répertoire, and which he told | |
inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow-backed novel, and moving my | |
chair a little sideways, that my own shadow might not fall upon the | |
page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for about ten | |
minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then suddenly, in | |
the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and to change my | |
dress. | |
"You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to what | |
the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly be. They | |
were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from the | |
window, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was | |
going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I | |
soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy | |
thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my | |
handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst of my laughter, I | |
put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able with a little | |
management to see all that there was behind me. I confess that I was | |
disappointed. There was nothing. At least that was my first | |
impression. At the second glance, however, I perceived that there was | |
a man standing in the Southampton Road, a small bearded man in a grey | |
suit, who seemed to be looking in my direction. The road is an | |
important highway, and there are usually people there. This man, | |
however, was leaning against the railings which bordered our field | |
and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced | |
at Mrs. Rucastle to find her eyes fixed upon me with a most searching | |
gaze. She said nothing, but I am convinced that she had divined that | |
I had a mirror in my hand and had seen what was behind me. She rose | |
at once. | |
"'Jephro,' said she, 'there is an impertinent fellow upon the road | |
there who stares up at Miss Hunter.' | |
"'No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?' he asked. | |
"'No, I know no one in these parts.' | |
"'Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to him | |
to go away.' | |
"'Surely it would be better to take no notice.' | |
"'No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn round | |
and wave him away like that.' | |
"I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew down | |
the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have not sat | |
again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor seen the man | |
in the road." | |
"Pray continue," said Holmes. "Your narrative promises to be a most | |
interesting one." | |
"You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to | |
be little relation between the different incidents of which I speak. | |
On the very first day that I was at the Copper Beeches, Mr. Rucastle | |
took me to a small outhouse which stands near the kitchen door. As we | |
approached it I heard the sharp rattling of a chain, and the sound as | |
of a large animal moving about. | |
"'Look in here!' said Mr. Rucastle, showing me a slit between two | |
planks. 'Is he not a beauty?' | |
"I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a | |
vague figure huddled up in the darkness. | |
"'Don't be frightened,' said my employer, laughing at the start which | |
I had given. 'It's only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but | |
really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do anything with | |
him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, so that he is | |
always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God | |
help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness' sake | |
don't you ever on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at | |
night, for it's as much as your life is worth.' | |
"The warning was no idle one, for two nights later I happened to look | |
out of my bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning. It was a | |
beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the house was | |
silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was standing, rapt in | |
the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware that something was | |
moving under the shadow of the copper beeches. As it emerged into the | |
moonshine I saw what it was. It was a giant dog, as large as a calf, | |
tawny tinted, with hanging jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting | |
bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the shadow | |
upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart | |
which I do not think that any burglar could have done. | |
"And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you | |
know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a great coil | |
at the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the child was in bed, I | |
began to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my room and by | |
rearranging my own little things. There was an old chest of drawers | |
in the room, the two upper ones empty and open, the lower one locked. | |
I had filled the first two with my linen, and as I had still much to | |
pack away I was naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third | |
drawer. It struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere | |
oversight, so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The | |
very first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. | |
There was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never | |
guess what it was. It was my coil of hair. | |
"I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint, and | |
the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded | |
itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in the drawer? | |
With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the contents, and | |
drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two tresses together, | |
and I assure you that they were identical. Was it not extraordinary? | |
Puzzle as I would, I could make nothing at all of what it meant. I | |
returned the strange hair to the drawer, and I said nothing of the | |
matter to the Rucastles as I felt that I had put myself in the wrong | |
by opening a drawer which they had locked. | |
"I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, and | |
I soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. There | |
was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A | |
door which faced that which led into the quarters of the Tollers | |
opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked. One day, | |
however, as I ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rucastle coming out | |
through this door, his keys in his hand, and a look on his face which | |
made him a very different person to the round, jovial man to whom I | |
was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his brow was all crinkled with | |
anger, and the veins stood out at his temples with passion. He locked | |
the door and hurried past me without a word or a look. | |
"This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the | |
grounds with my charge, I strolled round to the side from which I | |
could see the windows of this part of the house. There were four of | |
them in a row, three of which were simply dirty, while the fourth was | |
shuttered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled up and | |
down, glancing at them occasionally, Mr. Rucastle came out to me, | |
looking as merry and jovial as ever. | |
"'Ah!' said he, 'you must not think me rude if I passed you without a | |
word, my dear young lady. I was preoccupied with business matters.' | |
"I assured him that I was not offended. 'By the way,' said I, 'you | |
seem to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them | |
has the shutters up.' | |
"He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me, a little startled at my | |
remark. | |
"'Photography is one of my hobbies,' said he. 'I have made my dark | |
room up there. But, dear me! what an observant young lady we have | |
come upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have ever believed | |
it?' He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest in his eyes as | |
he looked at me. I read suspicion there and annoyance, but no jest. | |
"Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there was | |
something about that suite of rooms which I was not to know, I was | |
all on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, though I have | |
my share of that. It was more a feeling of duty--a feeling that some | |
good might come from my penetrating to this place. They talk of | |
woman's instinct; perhaps it was woman's instinct which gave me that | |
feeling. At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly on the lookout | |
for any chance to pass the forbidden door. | |
"It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, | |
besides Mr. Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find something to do | |
in these deserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large black | |
linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has been drinking | |
hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk; and when I came | |
upstairs there was the key in the door. I have no doubt at all that | |
he had left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were both downstairs, and | |
the child was with them, so that I had an admirable opportunity. I | |
turned the key gently in the lock, opened the door, and slipped | |
through. | |
"There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and uncarpeted, | |
which turned at a right angle at the farther end. Round this corner | |
were three doors in a line, the first and third of which were open. | |
They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless, with two | |
windows in the one and one in the other, so thick with dirt that the | |
evening light glimmered dimly through them. The centre door was | |
closed, and across the outside of it had been fastened one of the | |
broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked at one end to a ring in the | |
wall, and fastened at the other with stout cord. The door itself was | |
locked as well, and the key was not there. This barricaded door | |
corresponded clearly with the shuttered window outside, and yet I | |
could see by the glimmer from beneath it that the room was not in | |
darkness. Evidently there was a skylight which let in light from | |
above. As I stood in the passage gazing at the sinister door and | |
wondering what secret it might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of | |
steps within the room and saw a shadow pass backward and forward | |
against the little slit of dim light which shone out from under the | |
door. A mad, unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. | |
Holmes. My overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I turned and | |
ran--ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me clutching at the | |
skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, and | |
straight into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting outside. | |
"'So,' said he, smiling, 'it was you, then. I thought that it must be | |
when I saw the door open.' | |
"'Oh, I am so frightened!' I panted. | |
"'My dear young lady! my dear young lady!'--you cannot think how | |
caressing and soothing his manner was--'and what has frightened you, | |
my dear young lady?' | |
"But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was | |
keenly on my guard against him. | |
"'I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing,' I answered. 'But | |
it is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was frightened and | |
ran out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still in there!' | |
"'Only that?' said he, looking at me keenly. | |
"'Why, what did you think?' I asked. | |
"'Why do you think that I lock this door?' | |
"'I am sure that I do not know.' | |
"'It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you see?' | |
He was still smiling in the most amiable manner. | |
"'I am sure if I had known--' | |
"'Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that | |
threshold again'--here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin | |
of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon--'I'll | |
throw you to the mastiff.' | |
"I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that I | |
must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing until I | |
found myself lying on my bed trembling all over. Then I thought of | |
you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without some advice. I | |
was frightened of the house, of the man, of the woman, of the | |
servants, even of the child. They were all horrible to me. If I could | |
only bring you down all would be well. Of course I might have fled | |
from the house, but my curiosity was almost as strong as my fears. My | |
mind was soon made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my hat and | |
cloak, went down to the office, which is about half a mile from the | |
house, and then returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt | |
came into my mind as I approached the door lest the dog might be | |
loose, but I remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of | |
insensibility that evening, and I knew that he was the only one in | |
the household who had any influence with the savage creature, or who | |
would venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety and lay awake | |
half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. I had no | |
difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this morning, but | |
I must be back before three o'clock, for Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are | |
going on a visit, and will be away all the evening, so that I must | |
look after the child. Now I have told you all my adventures, Mr. | |
Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could tell me what it all | |
means, and, above all, what I should do." | |
Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. My | |
friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in his | |
pockets, and an expression of the most profound gravity upon his | |
face. | |
"Is Toller still drunk?" he asked. | |
"Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she could do nothing | |
with him." | |
"That is well. And the Rucastles go out to-night?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?" | |
"Yes, the wine-cellar." | |
"You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very | |
brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could | |
perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not think | |
you a quite exceptional woman." | |
"I will try. What is it?" | |
"We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o'clock, my friend and I. | |
The Rucastles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be | |
incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might give the alarm. | |
If you could send her into the cellar on some errand, and then turn | |
the key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely." | |
"I will do it." | |
"Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of course | |
there is only one feasible explanation. You have been brought there | |
to personate someone, and the real person is imprisoned in this | |
chamber. That is obvious. As to who this prisoner is, I have no doubt | |
that it is the daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle, if I remember right, | |
who was said to have gone to America. You were chosen, doubtless, as | |
resembling her in height, figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers | |
had been cut off, very possibly in some illness through which she has | |
passed, and so, of course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a | |
curious chance you came upon her tresses. The man in the road was | |
undoubtedly some friend of hers--possibly her fiancé--and no doubt, | |
as you wore the girl's dress and were so like her, he was convinced | |
from your laughter, whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your | |
gesture, that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no | |
longer desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to | |
prevent him from endeavouring to communicate with her. So much is | |
fairly clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition | |
of the child." | |
"What on earth has that to do with it?" I ejaculated. | |
"My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light | |
as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don't | |
you see that the converse is equally valid. I have frequently gained | |
my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their | |
children. This child's disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for | |
cruelty's sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, | |
as I should suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor | |
girl who is in their power." | |
"I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes," cried our client. "A | |
thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you have | |
hit it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to this poor | |
creature." | |
"We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning man. | |
We can do nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall be with | |
you, and it will not be long before we solve the mystery." | |
We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we reached | |
the Copper Beeches, having put up our trap at a wayside public-house. | |
The group of trees, with their dark leaves shining like burnished | |
metal in the light of the setting sun, were sufficient to mark the | |
house even had Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the | |
door-step. | |
"Have you managed it?" asked Holmes. | |
A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. "That is Mrs. | |
Toller in the cellar," said she. "Her husband lies snoring on the | |
kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of Mr. | |
Rucastle's." | |
"You have done well indeed!" cried Holmes with enthusiasm. "Now lead | |
the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black business." | |
We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a | |
passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss | |
Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the transverse | |
bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. | |
No sound came from within, and at the silence Holmes' face clouded | |
over. | |
"I trust that we are not too late," said he. "I think, Miss Hunter, | |
that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder | |
to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in." | |
It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united | |
strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There was | |
no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a basketful | |
of linen. The skylight above was open, and the prisoner gone. | |
"There has been some villainy here," said Holmes; "this beauty has | |
guessed Miss Hunter's intentions and has carried his victim off." | |
"But how?" | |
"Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it." He swung | |
himself up onto the roof. "Ah, yes," he cried, "here's the end of a | |
long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did it." | |
"But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter; "the ladder was not there | |
when the Rucastles went away." | |
"He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and | |
dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were he | |
whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would | |
be as well for you to have your pistol ready." | |
The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the | |
door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy stick in his | |
hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the wall at the sight | |
of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and confronted him. | |
"You villain!" said he, "where's your daughter?" | |
The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open skylight. | |
"It is for me to ask you that," he shrieked, "you thieves! Spies and | |
thieves! I have caught you, have I? You are in my power. I'll serve | |
you!" He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go. | |
"He's gone for the dog!" cried Miss Hunter. | |
"I have my revolver," said I. | |
"Better close the front door," cried Holmes, and we all rushed down | |
the stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the | |
baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible | |
worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderly man | |
with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door. | |
"My God!" he cried. "Someone has loosed the dog. It's not been fed | |
for two days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late!" | |
Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller | |
hurrying behind us. There was the huge famished brute, its black | |
muzzle buried in Rucastle's throat, while he writhed and screamed | |
upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over | |
with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his | |
neck. With much labour we separated them and carried him, living but | |
horribly mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing-room | |
sofa, and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to | |
his wife, I did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all | |
assembled round him when the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman | |
entered the room. | |
"Mrs. Toller!" cried Miss Hunter. | |
"Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went | |
up to you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know what you | |
were planning, for I would have told you that your pains were | |
wasted." | |
"Ha!" said Holmes, looking keenly at her. "It is clear that Mrs. | |
Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else." | |
"Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know." | |
"Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several | |
points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark." | |
"I will soon make it clear to you," said she; "and I'd have done so | |
before now if I could ha' got out from the cellar. If there's | |
police-court business over this, you'll remember that I was the one | |
that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice's friend too. | |
"She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn't, from the time that | |
her father married again. She was slighted like and had no say in | |
anything, but it never really became bad for her until after she met | |
Mr. Fowler at a friend's house. As well as I could learn, Miss Alice | |
had rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient, she | |
was, that she never said a word about them but just left everything | |
in Mr. Rucastle's hands. He knew he was safe with her; but when there | |
was a chance of a husband coming forward, who would ask for all that | |
the law would give him, then her father thought it time to put a stop | |
on it. He wanted her to sign a paper, so that whether she married or | |
not, he could use her money. When she wouldn't do it, he kept on | |
worrying her until she got brain-fever, and for six weeks was at | |
death's door. Then she got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and | |
with her beautiful hair cut off; but that didn't make no change in | |
her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be." | |
"Ah," said Holmes, "I think that what you have been good enough to | |
tell us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all that | |
remains. Mr. Rucastle then, I presume, took to this system of | |
imprisonment?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of the | |
disagreeable persistence of Mr. Fowler." | |
"That was it, sir." | |
"But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should be, | |
blockaded the house, and having met you succeeded by certain | |
arguments, metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your | |
interests were the same as his." | |
"Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken, free-handed gentleman," said Mrs. | |
Toller serenely. | |
"And in this way he managed that your good man should have no want of | |
drink, and that a ladder should be ready at the moment when your | |
master had gone out." | |
"You have it, sir, just as it happened." | |
"I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller," said Holmes, "for you | |
have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here comes | |
the country surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so I think, Watson, that we | |
had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, as it seems to me | |
that our locus standi now is rather a questionable one." | |
And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the copper | |
beeches in front of the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but was always a | |
broken man, kept alive solely through the care of his devoted wife. | |
They still live with their old servants, who probably know so much of | |
Rucastle's past life that he finds it difficult to part from them. | |
Mr. Fowler and Miss Rucastle were married, by special license, in | |
Southampton the day after their flight, and he is now the holder of a | |
government appointment in the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet | |
Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no | |
further interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of | |
one of his problems, and she is now the head of a private school at | |
Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success. | |
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