THE CASE-BOOK OF SHERLOCK HOLMES | |
Arthur Conan Doyle | |
Table of contents | |
Preface | |
The Illustrious Client | |
The Blanched Soldier | |
The Adventure Of The Mazarin Stone | |
The Adventure of the Three Gables | |
The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire | |
The Adventure of the Three Garridebs | |
The Problem of Thor Bridge | |
The Adventure of the Creeping Man | |
The Adventure of the Lion's Mane | |
The Adventure of the Veiled Lodger | |
The Adventure of Shoscombe Old Place | |
The Adventure of the Retired Colourman | |
PREFACE | |
I fear that Mr. Sherlock Holmes may become like one of those popular | |
tenors who, having outlived their time, are still tempted to make | |
repeated farewell bows to their indulgent audiences. This must cease | |
and he must go the way of all flesh, material or imaginary. One likes | |
to think that there is some fantastic limbo for the children of | |
imagination, some strange, impossible place where the beaux of | |
Fielding may still make love to the belles of Richardson, where | |
Scott's heroes still may strut, Dickens's delightful Cockneys still | |
raise a laugh, and Thackeray's worldlings continue to carry on their | |
reprehensible careers. Perhaps in some humble corner of such a | |
Valhalla, Sherlock and his Watson may for a time find a place, while | |
some more astute sleuth with some even less astute comrade may fill | |
the stage which they have vacated. | |
His career has been a long one--though it is possible to exaggerate | |
it; decrepit gentlemen who approach me and declare that his | |
adventures formed the reading of their boyhood do not meet the | |
response from me which they seem to expect. One is not anxious to | |
have one's personal dates handled so unkindly. As a matter of cold | |
fact, Holmes made his debut in A Study in Scarlet and in The Sign of | |
Four, two small booklets which appeared between 1887 and 1889. It was | |
in 1891 that "A Scandal in Bohemia," the first of the long series of | |
short stories, appeared in The Strand Magazine. The public seemed | |
appreciative and desirous of more, so that from that date, | |
thirty-nine years ago, they have been produced in a broken series | |
which now contains no fewer than fifty-six stories, republished in | |
The Adventures, The Memoirs, The Return, and His Last Bow. And there | |
remain these twelve published during the last few years which are | |
here produced under the title of The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes. He | |
began his adventures in the very heart of the later Victorian era, | |
carried it through the all-too-short reign of Edward, and has managed | |
to hold his own little niche even in these feverish days. Thus it | |
would be true to say that those who first read of him, as young men, | |
have lived to see their own grown-up children following the same | |
adventures in the same magazine. It is a striking example of the | |
patience and loyalty of the British public. | |
I had fully determined at the conclusion of The Memoirs to bring | |
Holmes to an end, as I felt that my literary energies should not be | |
directed too much into one channel. That pale, clear-cut face and | |
loose-limbed figure were taking up an undue share of my imagination. | |
I did the deed, but fortunately no coroner had pronounced upon the | |
remains, and so, after a long interval, it was not difficult for me | |
to respond to the flattering demand and to explain my rash act away. | |
I have never regretted it, for I have not in actual practice found | |
that these lighter sketches have prevented me from exploring and | |
finding my limitations in such varied branches of literature as | |
history, poetry, historical novels, psychic research, and the drama. | |
Had Holmes never existed I could not have done more, though he may | |
perhaps have stood a little in the way of the recognition of my more | |
serious literary work. | |
And so, reader, farewell to Sherlock Holmes! I thank you for your | |
past constancy, and can but hope that some return has been made in | |
the shape of that distraction from the worries of life and | |
stimulating change of thought which can only be found in the fairy | |
kingdom of romance. | |
Arthur Conan Doyle | |
THE ILLUSTRIOUS CLIENT | |
"It can't hurt now," was Mr. Sherlock Holmes's comment when, for the | |
tenth time in as many years, I asked his leave to reveal the | |
following narrative. So it was that at last I obtained permission to | |
put on record what was, in some ways, the supreme moment of my | |
friend's career. | |
Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over a | |
smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found | |
him less reticent and more human than anywhere else. On the upper | |
floor of the Northumberland Avenue establishment there is an isolated | |
corner where two couches lie side by side, and it was on these that | |
we lay upon September 3, 1902, the day when my narrative begins. I | |
had asked him whether anything was stirring, and for answer he had | |
shot his long, thin, nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped | |
him and had drawn an envelope from the inside pocket of the coat | |
which hung beside him. | |
"It may be some fussy, self-important fool; it may be a matter of | |
life or death," said he as he handed me the note. "I know no more | |
than this message tells me." | |
It was from the Carlton Club and dated the evening before. This is | |
what I read: | |
Sir James Damery presents his compliments to Mr. Sherlock Holmes and | |
will call upon him at 4.30 to-morrow. Sir James begs to say that the | |
matter upon which he desires to consult Mr. Holmes is very delicate | |
and also very important. He trusts, therefore, that Mr. Holmes will | |
make every effort to grant this interview, and that he will confirm | |
it over the telephone to the Carlton Club. | |
"I need not say that I have confirmed it, Watson," said Holmes as I | |
returned the paper. "Do you know anything of this man Damery?" | |
"Only that this name is a household word in society." | |
"Well, I can tell you a little more than that. He has rather a | |
reputation for arranging delicate matters which are to be kept out of | |
the papers. You may remember his negotiations with Sir George Lewis | |
over the Hammerford Will case. He is a man of the world with a | |
natural turn for diplomacy. I am bound, therefore, to hope that it is | |
not a false scent and that he has some real need for our assistance." | |
"Our?" | |
"Well, if you will be so good, Watson." | |
"I shall be honoured." | |
"Then you have the hour--4.30. Until then we can put the matter out | |
of our heads." | |
I was living in my own rooms in Queen Anne Street at the time, but I | |
was round at Baker Street before the time named. Sharp to the | |
half-hour, Colonel Sir James Damery was announced. It is hardly | |
necessary to describe him, for many will remember that large, bluff, | |
honest personality, that broad, clean-shaven face, and, above all, | |
that pleasant, mellow voice. Frankness shone from his gray Irish | |
eyes, and good humour played round his mobile, smiling lips. His | |
lucent top-hat, his dark frock-coat, indeed, every detail, from the | |
pearl pin in the black satin cravat to the lavender spats over the | |
varnished shoes, spoke of the meticulous care in dress for which he | |
was famous. The big, masterful aristocrat dominated the little room. | |
"Of course, I was prepared to find Dr. Watson," he remarked with a | |
courteous bow. "His collaboration may be very necessary, for we are | |
dealing on this occasion, Mr. Holmes, with a man to whom violence is | |
familiar and who will, literally, stick at nothing. I should say that | |
there is no more dangerous man in Europe." | |
"I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has been | |
applied," said Holmes with a smile. "Don't you smoke? Then you will | |
excuse me if I light my pipe. If your man is more dangerous than the | |
late Professor Moriarty, or than the living Colonel Sebastian Moran, | |
then he is indeed worth meeting. May I ask his name?" | |
"Have you ever heard of Baron Gruner?" | |
"You mean the Austrian murderer?" | |
Colonel Damery threw up his kid-gloved hands with a laugh. "There is | |
no getting past you, Mr. Holmes! Wonderful! So you have already sized | |
him up as a murderer?" | |
"It is my business to follow the details of Continental crime. Who | |
could possibly have read what happened at Prague and have any doubts | |
as to the man's guilt! It was a purely technical legal point and the | |
suspicious death of a witness that saved him! I am as sure that he | |
killed his wife when the so-called 'accident' happened in the Splugen | |
Pass as if I had seen him do it. I knew, also, that he had come to | |
England and had a presentiment that sooner or later he would find me | |
some work to do. Well, what has Baron Gruner been up to? I presume it | |
is not this old tragedy which has come up again?" | |
"No, it is more serious than that. To revenge crime is important, but | |
to prevent it is more so. It is a terrible thing, Mr. Holmes, to see | |
a dreadful event, an atrocious situation, preparing itself before | |
your eyes, to clearly understand whither it will lead and yet to be | |
utterly unable to avert it. Can a human being be placed in a more | |
trying position?" | |
"Perhaps not." | |
"Then you will sympathize with the client in whose interests I am | |
acting." | |
"I did not understand that you were merely an intermediary. Who is | |
the principal?" | |
"Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question. It is | |
important that I should be able to assure him that his honoured name | |
has been in no way dragged into the matter. His motives are, to the | |
last degree, honourable and chivalrous, but he prefers to remain | |
unknown. I need not say that your fees will be assured and that you | |
will be given a perfectly free hand. Surely the actual name of your | |
client is immaterial?" | |
"I am sorry," said Holmes. "I am accustomed to have mystery at one | |
end of my cases, but to have it at both ends is too confusing. I | |
fear, Sir James, that I must decline to act." | |
Our visitor was greatly disturbed. His large, sensitive face was | |
darkened with emotion and disappointment. | |
"You hardly realize the effect of your own action, Mr. Holmes," said | |
he. "You place me in a most serious dilemma, for I am perfectly | |
certain that you would be proud to take over the case if I could give | |
you the facts, and yet a promise forbids me from revealing them all. | |
May I, at least, lay all that I can before you?" | |
"By all means, so long as it is understood that I commit myself to | |
nothing." | |
"That is understood. In the first place, you have no doubt heard of | |
General de Merville?" | |
"De Merville of Khyber fame? Yes, I have heard of him." | |
"He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich, beautiful, | |
accomplished, a wonder-woman in every way. It is this daughter, this | |
lovely, innocent girl, whom we are endeavouring to save from the | |
clutches of a fiend." | |
"Baron Gruner has some hold over her, then?" | |
"The strongest of all holds where a woman is concerned--the hold of | |
love. The fellow is, as you may have heard, extraordinarily handsome, | |
with a most fascinating manner, a gentle voice, and that air of | |
romance and mystery which means so much to a woman. He is said to | |
have the whole sex at his mercy and to have made ample use of the | |
fact." | |
"But how came such a man to meet a lady of the standing of Miss | |
Violet de Merville?" | |
"It was on a Mediterranean yachting voyage. The company, though | |
select, paid their own passages. No doubt the promoters hardly | |
realized the Baron's true character until it was too late. The | |
villain attached himself to the lady, and with such effect that he | |
has completely and absolutely won her heart. To say that she loves | |
him hardly expresses it. She dotes upon him; she is obsessed by him. | |
Outside of him there is nothing on earth. She will not hear one word | |
against him. Everything has been done to cure her of her madness, but | |
in vain. To sum up, she proposes to marry him next month. As she is | |
of age and has a will of iron, it is hard to know how to prevent | |
her." | |
"Does she know about the Austrian episode?" | |
"The cunning devil has told her every unsavoury public scandal of his | |
past life, but always in such a way as to make himself out to be an | |
innocent martyr. She absolutely accepts his version and will listen | |
to no other." | |
"Dear me! But surely you have inadvertently let out the name of your | |
client? It is no doubt General de Merville." | |
Our visitor fidgeted in his chair. | |
"I could deceive you by saying so, Mr. Holmes, but it would not be | |
true. De Merville is a broken man. The strong soldier has been | |
utterly demoralized by this incident. He has lost the nerve which | |
never failed him on the battlefield and has become a weak, doddering | |
old man, utterly incapable of contending with a brilliant, forceful | |
rascal like this Austrian. My client, however, is an old friend, one | |
who has known the General intimately for many years and taken a | |
paternal interest in this young girl since she wore short frocks. He | |
cannot see this tragedy consummated without some attempt to stop it. | |
There is nothing in which Scotland Yard can act. It was his own | |
suggestion that you should be called in, but it was, as I have said, | |
on the express stipulation that he should not be personally involved | |
in the matter. I have no doubt, Mr. Holmes, with your great powers | |
you could easily trace my client back through me, but I must ask you, | |
as a point of honour, to refrain from doing so, and not to break in | |
upon his incognito." | |
Holmes gave a whimsical smile. | |
"I think I may safely promise that," said he. "I may add that your | |
problem interests me, and that I shall be prepared to look into it. | |
How shall I keep in touch with you?" | |
"The Carlton Club will find me. But in case of emergency, there is a | |
private telephone call, 'XX.31.'" | |
Holmes noted it down and sat, still smiling, with the open | |
memorandum-book upon his knee. | |
"The Baron's present address, please?" | |
"Vernon Lodge, near Kingston. It is a large house. He has been | |
fortunate in some rather shady speculations and is a rich man, which | |
naturally makes him a more dangerous antagonist." | |
"Is he at home at present?" | |
"Yes." | |
"Apart from what you have told me, can you give me any further | |
information about the man?" | |
"He has expensive tastes. He is a horse fancier. For a short time he | |
played polo at Hurlingham, but then this Prague affair got noised | |
about and he had to leave. He collects books and pictures. He is a | |
man with a considerable artistic side to his nature. He is, I | |
believe, a recognized authority upon Chinese pottery and has written | |
a book upon the subject." | |
"A complex mind," said Holmes. "All great criminals have that. My old | |
friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso. Wainwright was no mean | |
artist. I could quote many more. Well, Sir James, you will inform | |
your client that I am turning my mind upon Baron Gruner. I can say no | |
more. I have some sources of information of my own, and I dare say we | |
may find some means of opening the matter up." | |
When our visitor had left us Holmes sat so long in deep thought that | |
it seemed to me that he had forgotten my presence. At last, however, | |
he came briskly back to earth. | |
"Well, Watson, any views?" he asked. | |
"I should think you had better see the young lady herself." | |
"My dear Watson, if her poor old broken father cannot move her, how | |
shall I, a stranger, prevail? And yet there is something in the | |
suggestion if all else fails. But I think we must begin from a | |
different angle. I rather fancy that Shinwell Johnson might be a | |
help." | |
I have not had occasion to mention Shinwell Johnson in these memoirs | |
because I have seldom drawn my cases from the latter phases of my | |
friend's career. During the first years of the century he became a | |
valuable assistant. Johnson, I grieve to say, made his name first as | |
a very dangerous villain and served two terms at Parkhurst. Finally | |
he repented and allied himself to Holmes, acting as his agent in the | |
huge criminal underworld of London and obtaining information which | |
often proved to be of vital importance. Had Johnson been a "nark" of | |
the police he would soon have been exposed, but as he dealt with | |
cases which never came directly into the courts, his activities were | |
never realized by his companions. With the glamour of his two | |
convictions upon him, he had the entree of every night-club, doss | |
house, and gambling-den in the town, and his quick observation and | |
active brain made him an ideal agent for gaining information. It was | |
to him that Sherlock Holmes now proposed to turn. | |
It was not possible for me to follow the immediate steps taken by my | |
friend, for I had some pressing professional business of my own, but | |
I met him by appointment that evening at Simpson's, where, sitting at | |
a small table in the front window and looking down at the rushing | |
stream of life in the Strand, he told me something of what had | |
passed. | |
"Johnson is on the prowl," said he. "He may pick up some garbage in | |
the darker recesses of the underworld, for it is down there, amid the | |
black roots of crime, that we must hunt for this man's secrets." | |
"But if the lady will not accept what is already known, why should | |
any fresh discovery of yours turn her from her purpose?" | |
"Who knows, Watson? Woman's heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to | |
the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet some smaller | |
offence might rankle. Baron Gruner remarked to me--" | |
"He remarked to you!" | |
"Oh, to be sure, I had not told you of my plans. Well, Watson, I love | |
to come to close grips with my man. I like to meet him eye to eye and | |
read for myself the stuff that he is made of. When I had given | |
Johnson his instructions I took a cab out to Kingston and found the | |
Baron in a most affable mood." | |
"Did he recognize you?" | |
"There was no difficulty about that, for I simply sent in my card. He | |
is an excellent antagonist, cool as ice, silky voiced and soothing as | |
one of your fashionable consultants, and poisonous as a cobra. He has | |
breeding in him--a real aristocrat of crime, with a superficial | |
suggestion of afternoon tea and all the cruelty of the grave behind | |
it. Yes, I am glad to have had my attention called to Baron Adelbert | |
Gruner." | |
"You say he was affable?" | |
"A purring cat who thinks he sees prospective mice. Some people's | |
affability is more deadly than the violence of coarser souls. His | |
greeting was characteristic. 'I rather thought I should see you | |
sooner or later, Mr. Holmes,' said he. 'You have been engaged, no | |
doubt by General de Merville, to endeavour to stop my marriage with | |
his daughter, Violet. That is so, is it not?' | |
"I acquiesced. | |
"'My dear man,' said he, 'you will only ruin your own well-deserved | |
reputation. It is not a case in which you can possibly succeed. You | |
will have barren work, to say nothing of incurring some danger. Let | |
me very strongly advise you to draw off at once.' | |
"'It is curious,' I answered, 'but that was the very advice which I | |
had intended to give you. I have a respect for your brains, Baron, | |
and the little which I have seen of your personality has not lessened | |
it. Let me put it to you as man to man. No one wants to rake up your | |
past and make you unduly uncomfortable. It is over, and you are now | |
in smooth waters, but if you persist in this marriage you will raise | |
up a swarm of powerful enemies who will never leave you alone until | |
they have made England too hot to hold you. Is the game worth it? | |
Surely you would be wiser if you left the lady alone. It would not be | |
pleasant for you if these facts of your past were brought to her | |
notice.' | |
"The Baron has little waxed tips of hair under his nose, like the | |
short antennae of an insect. These quivered with amusement as he | |
listened, and he finally broke into a gentle chuckle. | |
"'Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'but it is really funny | |
to see you trying to play a hand with no cards in it. I don't think | |
anyone could do it better, but it is rather pathetic, all the same. | |
Not a colour card there, Mr. Holmes, nothing but the smallest of the | |
small.' | |
"'So you think.' | |
"'So I know. Let me make the thing clear to you, for my own hand is | |
so strong that I can afford to show it. I have been fortunate enough | |
to win the entire affection of this lady. This was given to me in | |
spite of the fact that I told her very clearly of all the unhappy | |
incidents in my past life. I also told her that certain wicked and | |
designing persons--I hope you recognize yourself--would come to her | |
and tell her these things, and I warned her how to treat them. You | |
have heard of post-hypnotic suggestion, Mr. Holmes? Well, you will | |
see how it works, for a man of personality can use hypnotism without | |
any vulgar passes or tomfoolery. So she is ready for you and, I have | |
no doubt, would give you an appointment, for she is quite amenable to | |
her father's will--save only in the one little matter.' | |
"Well, Watson, there seemed to be no more to say, so I took my leave | |
with as much cold dignity as I could summon, but, as I had my hand on | |
the door-handle, he stopped me. | |
"'By the way, Mr. Holmes,' said he, 'did you know Le Brun, the French | |
agent?' | |
"'Yes,' said I. | |
"'Do you know what befell him?' | |
"'I heard that he was beaten by some Apaches in the Montmartre | |
district and crippled for life.' | |
"'Quite true, Mr. Holmes. By a curious coincidence he had been | |
inquiring into my affairs only a week before. Don't do it, Mr. | |
Holmes; it's not a lucky thing to do. Several have found that out. My | |
last word to you is, go your own way and let me go mine. Good-bye!' | |
"So there you are, Watson. You are up to date now." | |
"The fellow seems dangerous." | |
"Mighty dangerous. I disregard the blusterer, but this is the sort of | |
man who says rather less than he means." | |
"Must you interfere? Does it really matter if he marries the girl?" | |
"Considering that he undoubtedly murdered his last wife, I should say | |
it mattered very much. Besides, the client! Well, well, we need not | |
discuss that. When you have finished your coffee you had best come | |
home with me, for the blithe Shinwell will be there with his report." | |
We found him sure enough, a huge, coarse, red-faced, scorbutic man, | |
with a pair of vivid black eyes which were the only external sign of | |
the very cunning mind within. It seems that he had dived down into | |
what was peculiarly his kingdom, and beside him on the settee was a | |
brand which he had brought up in the shape of a slim, flame-like | |
young woman with a pale, intense face, youthful, and yet so worn with | |
sin and sorrow that one read the terrible years which had left their | |
leprous mark upon her. | |
"This is Miss Kitty Winter," said Shinwell Johnson, waving his fat | |
hand as an introduction. "What she don't know--well, there, she'll | |
speak for herself. Put my hand right on her, Mr. Holmes, within an | |
hour of your message." | |
"I'm easy to find," said the young woman. "Hell, London, gets me | |
every time. Same address for Porky Shinwell. We're old mates, Porky, | |
you and I. But, by cripes! there is another who ought to be down in a | |
lower hell than we if there was any justice in the world! That is the | |
man you are after, Mr. Holmes." | |
Holmes smiled. "I gather we have your good wishes, Miss Winter." | |
"If I can help to put him where he belongs, I'm yours to the rattle," | |
said our visitor with fierce energy. There was an intensity of hatred | |
in her white, set face and her blazing eyes such as woman seldom and | |
man never can attain. "You needn't go into my past, Mr. Holmes. | |
That's neither here nor there. But what I am Adelbert Gruner made me. | |
If I could pull him down!" She clutched frantically with her hands | |
into the air. "Oh, if I could only pull him into the pit where he has | |
pushed so many!" | |
"You know how the matter stands?" | |
"Porky Shinwell has been telling me. He's after some other poor fool | |
and wants to marry her this time. You want to stop it. Well, you | |
surely know enough about this devil to prevent any decent girl in her | |
senses wanting to be in the same parish with him." | |
"She is not in her senses. She is madly in love. She has been told | |
all about him. She cares nothing." | |
"Told about the murder?" | |
"Yes." | |
"My Lord, she must have a nerve!" | |
"She puts them all down as slanders." | |
"Couldn't you lay proofs before her silly eyes?" | |
"Well, can you help us do so?" | |
"Ain't I a proof myself? If I stood before her and told her how he | |
used me--" | |
"Would you do this?" | |
"Would I? Would I not!" | |
"Well, it might be worth trying. But he has told her most of his sins | |
and had pardon from her, and I understand she will not reopen the | |
question." | |
"I'll lay he didn't tell her all," said Miss Winter. "I caught a | |
glimpse of one or two murders besides the one that made such a fuss. | |
He would speak of someone in his velvet way and then look at me with | |
a steady eye and say: 'He died within a month.' It wasn't hot air, | |
either. But I took little notice--you see, I loved him myself at that | |
time. Whatever he did went with me, same as with this poor fool! | |
There was just one thing that shook me. Yes, by cripes! if it had not | |
been for his poisonous, lying tongue that explains and soothes, I'd | |
have left him that very night. It's a book he has--a brown leather | |
book with a lock, and his arms in gold on the outside. I think he was | |
a bit drunk that night, or he would not have shown it to me." | |
"What was it, then?" | |
"I tell you, Mr. Holmes, this man collects women, and takes a pride | |
in his collection, as some men collect moths or butterflies. He had | |
it all in that book. Snapshot photographs, names, details, everything | |
about them. It was a beastly book--a book no man, even if he had come | |
from the gutter, could have put together. But it was Adelbert | |
Gruner's book all the same. 'Souls I have ruined.' He could have put | |
that on the outside if he had been so minded. However, that's neither | |
here nor there, for the book would not serve you, and, if it would, | |
you can't get it." | |
"Where is it?" | |
"How can I tell you where it is now? It's more than a year since I | |
left him. I know where he kept it then. He's a precise, tidy cat of a | |
man in many of his ways, so maybe it is still in the pigeon-hole of | |
the old bureau in the inner study. Do you know his house?" | |
"I've been in the study," said Holmes. | |
"Have you, though? You haven't been slow on the job if you only | |
started this morning. Maybe dear Adelbert has met his match this | |
time. The outer study is the one with the Chinese crockery in it--big | |
glass cupboard between the windows. Then behind his desk is the door | |
that leads to the inner study--a small room where he keeps papers and | |
things." | |
"Is he not afraid of burglars?" | |
"Adelbert is no coward. His worst enemy couldn't say that of him. He | |
can look after himself. There's a burglar alarm at night. Besides, | |
what is there for a burglar--unless they got away with all this fancy | |
crockery?" | |
"No good," said Shinwell Johnson with the decided voice of the | |
expert. "No fence wants stuff of that sort that you can neither melt | |
nor sell." | |
"Quite so," said Holmes. "Well, now, Miss Winter, if you would call | |
here to-morrow evening at five, I would consider in the meanwhile | |
whether your suggestion of seeing this lady personally may not be | |
arranged. I am exceedingly obliged to you for your cooperation. I | |
need not say that my clients will consider liberally--" | |
"None of that, Mr. Holmes," cried the young woman. "I am not out for | |
money. Let me see this man in the mud, and I've got all I've worked | |
for--in the mud with my foot on his cursed face. That's my price. I'm | |
with you to-morrow or any other day so long as you are on his track. | |
Porky here can tell you always where to find me." | |
I did not see Holmes again until the following evening when we dined | |
once more at our Strand restaurant. He shrugged his shoulders when I | |
asked him what luck he had had in his interview. Then he told the | |
story, which I would repeat in this way. His hard, dry statement | |
needs some little editing to soften it into the terms of real life. | |
"There was no difficulty at all about the appointment," said Holmes, | |
"for the girl glories in showing abject filial obedience in all | |
secondary things in an attempt to atone for her flagrant breach of it | |
in her engagement. The General 'phoned that all was ready, and the | |
fiery Miss W. turned up according to schedule, so that at half-past | |
five a cab deposited us outside 104 Berkeley Square, where the old | |
soldier resides--one of those awful gray London castles which would | |
make a church seem frivolous. A footman showed us into a great | |
yellow-curtained drawing-room, and there was the lady awaiting us, | |
demure, pale, self-contained, as inflexible and remote as a snow | |
image on a mountain. | |
"I don't quite know how to make her clear to you, Watson. Perhaps you | |
may meet her before we are through, and you can use your own gift of | |
words. She is beautiful, but with the ethereal other-world beauty of | |
some fanatic whose thoughts are set on high. I have seen such faces | |
in the pictures of the old masters of the Middle Ages. How a beastman | |
could have laid his vile paws upon such a being of the beyond I | |
cannot imagine. You may have noticed how extremes call to each other, | |
the spiritual to the animal, the cave-man to the angel. You never saw | |
a worse case than this. | |
"She knew what we had come for, of course--that villain had lost no | |
time in poisoning her mind against us. Miss Winter's advent rather | |
amazed her, I think, but she waved us into our respective chairs like | |
a reverend abbess receiving two rather leprous mendicants. If your | |
head is inclined to swell, my dear Watson, take a course of Miss | |
Violet de Merville. | |
"'Well, sir,' said she in a voice like the wind from an iceberg, | |
'your name is familiar to me. You have called, as I understand, to | |
malign my fiancé, Baron Gruner. It is only by my father's request | |
that I see you at all, and I warn you in advance that anything you | |
can say could not possibly have the slightest effect upon my mind.' | |
"I was sorry for her, Watson. I thought of her for the moment as I | |
would have thought of a daughter of my own. I am not often eloquent. | |
I use my head, not my heart. But I really did plead with her with all | |
the warmth of words that I could find in my nature. I pictured to her | |
the awful position of the woman who only wakes to a man's character | |
after she is his wife--a woman who has to submit to be caressed by | |
bloody hands and lecherous lips. I spared her nothing--the shame, the | |
fear, the agony, the hopelessness of it all. All my hot words could | |
not bring one tinge of colour to those ivory cheeks or one gleam of | |
emotion to those abstracted eyes. I thought of what the rascal had | |
said about a post-hypnotic influence. One could really believe that | |
she was living above the earth in some ecstatic dream. Yet there was | |
nothing indefinite in her replies. | |
"'I have listened to you with patience, Mr. Holmes,' said she. 'The | |
effect upon my mind is exactly as predicted. I am aware that | |
Adelbert, that my fiancé, has had a stormy life in which he has | |
incurred bitter hatreds and most unjust aspersions. You are only the | |
last of a series who have brought their slanders before me. Possibly | |
you mean well, though I learn that you are a paid agent who would | |
have been equally willing to act for the Baron as against him. But in | |
any case I wish you to understand once for all that I love him and | |
that he loves me, and that the opinion of all the world is no more to | |
me than the twitter of those birds outside the window. If his noble | |
nature has ever for an instant fallen, it may be that I have been | |
specially sent to raise it to its true and lofty level. I am not | |
clear'--here she turned eyes upon my companion--'who this young lady | |
may be.' | |
"I was about to answer when the girl broke in like a whirlwind. If | |
ever you saw flame and ice face to face, it was those two women. | |
"'I'll tell you who I am,' she cried, springing out of her chair, her | |
mouth all twisted with passion--'I am his last mistress. I am one of | |
a hundred that he has tempted and used and ruined and thrown into the | |
refuse heap, as he will you also. Your refuse heap is more likely to | |
be a grave, and maybe that's the best. I tell you, you foolish woman, | |
if you marry this man he'll be the death of you. It may be a broken | |
heart or it may be a broken neck, but he'll have you one way or the | |
other. It's not out of love for you I'm speaking. I don't care a | |
tinker's curse whether you live or die. It's out of hate for him and | |
to spite him and to get back on him for what he did to me. But it's | |
all the same, and you needn't look at me like that, my fine lady, for | |
you may be lower than I am before you are through with it.' | |
"'I should prefer not to discuss such matters,' said Miss de Merville | |
coldly. 'Let me say once for all that I am aware of three passages in | |
my fiancé's life in which he became entangled with designing women, | |
and that I am assured of his hearty repentance for any evil that he | |
may have done.' | |
"'Three passages!' screamed my companion. 'You fool! You unutterable | |
fool!' | |
"'Mr. Holmes, I beg that you will bring this interview to an end,' | |
said the icy voice. 'I have obeyed my father's wish in seeing you, | |
but I am not compelled to listen to the ravings of this person.' | |
"With an oath Miss Winter darted forward, and if I had not caught her | |
wrist she would have clutched this maddening woman by the hair. I | |
dragged her towards the door and was lucky to get her back into the | |
cab without a public scene, for she was beside herself with rage. In | |
a cold way I felt pretty furious myself, Watson, for there was | |
something indescribably annoying in the calm aloofness and supreme | |
self-complaisance of the woman whom we were trying to save. So now | |
once again you know exactly how we stand, and it is clear that I must | |
plan some fresh opening move, for this gambit won't work. I'll keep | |
in touch with you, Watson, for it is more than likely that you will | |
have your part to play, though it is just possible that the next move | |
may lie with them rather than with us." | |
And it did. Their blow fell--or his blow rather, for never could I | |
believe that the lady was privy to it. I think I could show you the | |
very paving-stone upon which I stood when my eyes fell upon the | |
placard, and a pang of horror passed through my very soul. It was | |
between the Grand Hotel and Charing Cross Station, where a one-legged | |
news-vender displayed his evening papers. The date was just two days | |
after the last conversation. There, black upon yellow, was the | |
terrible news-sheet: | |
Murderous Attack Upon Sherlock Holmes | |
I think I stood stunned for some moments. Then I have a confused | |
recollection of snatching at a paper, of the remonstrance of the man, | |
whom I had not paid, and, finally, of standing in the doorway of a | |
chemist's shop while I turned up the fateful paragraph. This was how | |
it ran: | |
We learn with regret that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the well-known private | |
detective, was the victim this morning of a murderous assault which | |
has left him in a precarious position. There are no exact details to | |
hand, but the event seems to have occurred about twelve o'clock in | |
Regent Street, outside the Cafe Royal. The attack was made by two men | |
armed with sticks, and Mr. Holmes was beaten about the head and body, | |
receiving injuries which the doctors describe as most serious. He was | |
carried to Charing Cross Hospital and afterwards insisted upon being | |
taken to his rooms in Baker Street. The miscreants who attacked him | |
appear to have been respectably dressed men, who escaped from the | |
bystanders by passing through the Cafe Royal and out into Glasshouse | |
Street behind it. No doubt they belonged to that criminal fraternity | |
which has so often had occasion to bewail the activity and ingenuity | |
of the injured man. | |
I need not say that my eyes had hardly glanced over the paragraph | |
before I had sprung into a hansom and was on my way to Baker Street. | |
I found Sir Leslie Oakshott, the famous surgeon, in the hall and his | |
brougham waiting at the curb. | |
"No immediate danger," was his report. "Two lacerated scalp wounds | |
and some considerable bruises. Several stitches have been necessary. | |
Morphine has been injected and quiet is essential, but an interview | |
of a few minutes would not be absolutely forbidden." | |
With this permission I stole into the darkened room. The sufferer was | |
wide awake, and I heard my name in a hoarse whisper. The blind was | |
three-quarters down, but one ray of sunlight slanted through and | |
struck the bandaged head of the injured man. A crimson patch had | |
soaked through the white linen compress. I sat beside him and bent my | |
head. | |
"All right, Watson. Don't look so scared," he muttered in a very weak | |
voice. "It's not as bad as it seems." | |
"Thank God for that!" | |
"I'm a bit of a single-stick expert, as you know. I took most of them | |
on my guard. It was the second man that was too much for me." | |
"What can I do, Holmes? Of course, it was that damned fellow who set | |
them on. I'll go and thrash the hide off him if you give the word." | |
"Good old Watson! No, we can do nothing there unless the police lay | |
their hands on the men. But their get-away had been well prepared. We | |
may be sure of that. Wait a little. I have my plans. The first thing | |
is to exaggerate my injuries. They'll come to you for news. Put it on | |
thick, Watson. Lucky if I live the week | |
out--concussion--delirium--what you like! You can't overdo it." | |
"But Sir Leslie Oakshott?" | |
"Oh, he's all right. He shall see the worst side of me. I'll look | |
after that." | |
"Anything else?" | |
"Yes. Tell Shinwell Johnson to get that girl out of the way. Those | |
beauties will be after her now. They know, of course, that she was | |
with me in the case. If they dared to do me in it is not likely they | |
will neglect her. That is urgent. Do it to-night." | |
"I'll go now. Anything more?" | |
"Put my pipe on the table--and the tobacco-slipper. Right! Come in | |
each morning and we will plan our campaign." | |
I arranged with Johnson that evening to take Miss Winter to a quiet | |
suburb and see that she lay low until the danger was past. | |
For six days the public were under the impression that Holmes was at | |
the door of death. The bulletins were very grave and there were | |
sinister paragraphs in the papers. My continual visits assured me | |
that it was not so bad as that. His wiry constitution and his | |
determined will were working wonders. He was recovering fast, and I | |
had suspicions at times that he was really finding himself faster | |
than he pretended even to me. There was a curious secretive streak in | |
the man which led to many dramatic effects, but left even his closest | |
friend guessing as to what his exact plans might be. He pushed to an | |
extreme the axiom that the only safe plotter was he who plotted | |
alone. I was nearer him than anyone else, and yet I was always | |
conscious of the gap between. | |
On the seventh day the stitches were taken out, in spite of which | |
there was a report of erysipelas in the evening papers. The same | |
evening papers had an announcement which I was bound, sick or well, | |
to carry to my friend. It was simply that among the passengers on the | |
Cunard boat Ruritania, starting from Liverpool on Friday, was the | |
Baron Adelbert Gruner, who had some important financial business to | |
settle in the States before his impending wedding to Miss Violet de | |
Merville, only daughter of, etc., etc. Holmes listened to the news | |
with a cold, concentrated look upon his pale face, which told me that | |
it hit him hard. | |
"Friday!" he cried. "Only three clear days. I believe the rascal | |
wants to put himself out of danger's way. But he won't, Watson! By | |
the Lord Harry, he won't! Now, Watson, I want you to do something for | |
me." | |
"I am here to be used, Holmes." | |
"Well, then, spend the next twenty-four hours in an intensive study | |
of Chinese pottery." | |
He gave no explanations and I asked for none. By long experience I | |
had learned the wisdom of obedience. But when I had left his room I | |
walked down Baker Street, revolving in my head how on earth I was to | |
carry out so strange an order. Finally I drove to the London Library | |
in St. James's Square, put the matter to my friend Lomax, the | |
sublibrarian, and departed to my rooms with a goodly volume under my | |
arm. | |
It is said that the barrister who crams up a case with such care that | |
he can examine an expert witness upon the Monday has forgotten all | |
his forced knowledge before the Saturday. Certainly I should not like | |
now to pose as an authority upon ceramics. And yet all that evening, | |
and all that night with a short interval for rest, and all next | |
morning, I was sucking in knowledge and committing names to memory. | |
There I learned of the hall-marks of the great artist-decorators, of | |
the mystery of cyclical dates, the marks of the Hung-wu and the | |
beauties of the Yung-lo, the writings of Tang-ying, and the glories | |
of the primitive period of the Sung and the Yuan. I was charged with | |
all this information when I called upon Holmes next evening. He was | |
out of bed now, though you would not have guessed it from the | |
published reports, and he sat with his much-bandaged head resting | |
upon his hand in the depth of his favourite armchair. | |
"Why, Holmes," I said, "if one believed the papers, you are dying." | |
"That," said he, "is the very impression which I intended to convey. | |
And now, Watson, have you learned your lessons?" | |
"At least I have tried to." | |
"Good. You could keep up an intelligent conversation on the subject?" | |
"I believe I could." | |
"Then hand me that little box from the mantelpiece." | |
He opened the lid and took out a small object most carefully wrapped | |
in some fine Eastern silk. This he unfolded, and disclosed a delicate | |
little saucer of the most beautiful deep-blue colour. | |
"It needs careful handling, Watson. This is the real egg-shell | |
pottery of the Ming dynasty. No finer piece ever passed through | |
Christie's. A complete set of this would be worth a king's ransom--in | |
fact, it is doubtful if there is a complete set outside the imperial | |
palace of Peking. The sight of this would drive a real connoisseur | |
wild." | |
"What am I to do with it?" | |
Holmes handed me a card upon which was printed: "Dr. Hill Barton, 369 | |
Half Moon Street." | |
"That is your name for the evening, Watson. You will call upon Baron | |
Gruner. I know something of his habits, and at half-past eight he | |
would probably be disengaged. A note will tell him in advance that | |
you are about to call, and you will say that you are bringing him a | |
specimen of an absolutely unique set of Ming china. You may as well | |
be a medical man, since that is a part which you can play without | |
duplicity. You are a collector, this set has come your way, you have | |
heard of the Baron's interest in the subject, and you are not averse | |
to selling at a price." | |
"What price?" | |
"Well asked, Watson. You would certainly fall down badly if you did | |
not know the value of your own wares. This saucer was got for me by | |
Sir James, and comes, I understand, from the collection of his | |
client. You will not exaggerate if you say that it could hardly be | |
matched in the world." | |
"I could perhaps suggest that the set should be valued by an expert." | |
"Excellent, Watson! You scintillate to-day. Suggest Christie or | |
Sotheby. Your delicacy prevents your putting a price for yourself." | |
"But if he won't see me?" | |
"Oh, yes, he will see you. He has the collection mania in its most | |
acute form--and especially on this subject, on which he is an | |
acknowledged authority. Sit down, Watson, and I will dictate the | |
letter. No answer needed. You will merely say that you are coming, | |
and why." | |
It was an admirable document, short, courteous, and stimulating to | |
the curiosity of the connoisseur. A district messenger was duly | |
dispatched with it. On the same evening, with the precious saucer in | |
my hand and the card of Dr. Hill Barton in my pocket, I set off on my | |
own adventure. | |
The beautiful house and grounds indicated that Baron Gruner was, as | |
Sir James had said, a man of considerable wealth. A long winding | |
drive, with banks of rare shrubs on either side, opened out into a | |
great gravelled square adorned with statues. The place had been built | |
by a South African gold king in the days of the great boom, and the | |
long, low house with the turrets at the corners, though an | |
architectural nightmare, was imposing in its size and solidity. A | |
butler, who would have adorned a bench of bishops, showed me in and | |
handed me over to a plush-clad footman, who ushered me into the | |
Baron's presence. | |
He was standing at the open front of a great case which stood between | |
the windows and which contained part of his Chinese collection. He | |
turned as I entered with a small brown vase in his hand. | |
"Pray sit down, Doctor," said he. "I was looking over my own | |
treasures and wondering whether I could really afford to add to them. | |
This little Tang specimen, which dates from the seventh century, | |
would probably interest you. I am sure you never saw finer | |
workmanship or a richer glaze. Have you the Ming saucer with you of | |
which you spoke?" | |
I carefully unpacked it and handed it to him. He seated himself at | |
his desk, pulled over the lamp, for it was growing dark, and set | |
himself to examine it. As he did so the yellow light beat upon his | |
own features, and I was able to study them at my ease. | |
He was certainly a remarkably handsome man. His European reputation | |
for beauty was fully deserved. In figure he was not more than of | |
middle size, but was built upon graceful and active lines. His face | |
was swarthy, almost Oriental, with large, dark, languorous eyes which | |
might easily hold an irresistible fascination for women. His hair and | |
moustache were raven black, the latter short, pointed, and carefully | |
waxed. His features were regular and pleasing, save only his | |
straight, thin-lipped mouth. If ever I saw a murderer's mouth it was | |
there--a cruel, hard gash in the face, compressed, inexorable, and | |
terrible. He was ill-advised to train his moustache away from it, for | |
it was Nature's danger-signal, set as a warning to his victims. His | |
voice was engaging and his manners perfect. In age I should have put | |
him at little over thirty, though his record afterwards showed that | |
he was forty-two. | |
"Very fine--very fine indeed!" he said at last. "And you say you have | |
a set of six to correspond. What puzzles me is that I should not have | |
heard of such magnificent specimens. I only know of one in England to | |
match this, and it is certainly not likely to be in the market. Would | |
it be indiscreet if I were to ask you, Dr. Hill Barton, how you | |
obtained this?" | |
"Does it really matter?" I asked with as careless an air as I could | |
muster. "You can see that the piece is genuine, and, as to the value, | |
I am content to take an expert's valuation." | |
"Very mysterious," said he with a quick, suspicious flash of his dark | |
eyes. "In dealing with objects of such value, one naturally wishes to | |
know all about the transaction. That the piece is genuine is certain. | |
I have no doubts at all about that. But suppose--I am bound to take | |
every possibility into account--that it should prove afterwards that | |
you had no right to sell?" | |
"I would guarantee you against any claim of the sort." | |
"That, of course, would open up the question as to what your | |
guarantee was worth." | |
"My bankers would answer that." | |
"Quite so. And yet the whole transaction strikes me as rather | |
unusual." | |
"You can do business or not," said I with indifference. "I have given | |
you the first offer as I understood that you were a connoisseur, but | |
I shall have no difficulty in other quarters." | |
"Who told you I was a connoisseur?" | |
"I was aware that you had written a book upon the subject." | |
"Have you read the book?" | |
"No." | |
"Dear me, this becomes more and more difficult for me to understand! | |
You are a connoisseur and collector with a very valuable piece in | |
your collection, and yet you have never troubled to consult the one | |
book which would have told you of the real meaning and value of what | |
you held. How do you explain that?" | |
"I am a very busy man. I am a doctor in practice." | |
"That is no answer. If a man has a hobby he follows it up, whatever | |
his other pursuits may be. You said in your note that you were a | |
connoisseur." | |
"So I am." | |
"Might I ask you a few questions to test you? I am obliged to tell | |
you, Doctor--if you are indeed a doctor--that the incident becomes | |
more and more suspicious. I would ask you what do you know of the | |
Emperor Shomu and how do you associate him with the Shoso-in near | |
Nara? Dear me, does that puzzle you? Tell me a little about the | |
Northern Wei dynasty and its place in the history of ceramics." | |
I sprang from my chair in simulated anger. | |
"This is intolerable, sir," said I. "I came here to do you a favour, | |
and not to be examined as if I were a schoolboy. My knowledge on | |
these subjects may be second only to your own, but I certainly shall | |
not answer questions which have been put in so offensive a way." | |
He looked at me steadily. The languor had gone from his eyes. They | |
suddenly glared. There was a gleam of teeth from between those cruel | |
lips. | |
"What is the game? You are here as a spy. You are an emissary of | |
Holmes. This is a trick that you are playing upon me. The fellow is | |
dying I hear, so he sends his tools to keep watch upon me. You've | |
made your way in here without leave, and, by God! you may find it | |
harder to get out than to get in." | |
He had sprung to his feet, and I stepped back, bracing myself for an | |
attack, for the man was beside himself with rage. He may have | |
suspected me from the first; certainly this cross-examination had | |
shown him the truth; but it was clear that I could not hope to | |
deceive him. He dived his hand into a side-drawer and rummaged | |
furiously. Then something struck upon his ear, for he stood listening | |
intently. | |
"Ah!" he cried. "Ah!" and dashed into the room behind him. | |
Two steps took me to the open door, and my mind will ever carry a | |
clear picture of the scene within. The window leading out to the | |
garden was wide open. Beside it, looking like some terrible ghost, | |
his head girt with bloody bandages, his face drawn and white, stood | |
Sherlock Holmes. The next instant he was through the gap, and I heard | |
the crash of his body among the laurel bushes outside. With a howl of | |
rage the master of the house rushed after him to the open window. | |
And then! It was done in an instant, and yet I clearly saw it. An | |
arm--a woman's arm--shot out from among the leaves. At the same | |
instant the Baron uttered a horrible cry--a yell which will always | |
ring in my memory. He clapped his two hands to his face and rushed | |
round the room, beating his head horribly against the walls. Then he | |
fell upon the carpet, rolling and writhing, while scream after scream | |
resounded through the house. | |
"Water! For God's sake, water!" was his cry. | |
I seized a carafe from a side-table and rushed to his aid. At the | |
same moment the butler and several footmen ran in from the hall. I | |
remember that one of them fainted as I knelt by the injured man and | |
turned that awful face to the light of the lamp. The vitriol was | |
eating into it everywhere and dripping from the ears and the chin. | |
One eye was already white and glazed. The other was red and inflamed. | |
The features which I had admired a few minutes before were now like | |
some beautiful painting over which the artist has passed a wet and | |
foul sponge. They were blurred, discoloured, inhuman, terrible. | |
In a few words I explained exactly what had occurred, so far as the | |
vitriol attack was concerned. Some had climbed through the window and | |
others had rushed out on to the lawn, but it was dark and it had | |
begun to rain. Between his screams the victim raged and raved against | |
the avenger. "It was that hell-cat, Kitty Winter!" he cried. "Oh, the | |
she-devil! She shall pay for it! She shall pay! Oh, God in heaven, | |
this pain is more than I can bear!" | |
I bathed his face in oil, put cotton wadding on the raw surfaces, and | |
administered a hypodermic of morphia. All suspicion of me had passed | |
from his mind in the presence of this shock, and he clung to my hands | |
as if I might have the power even yet to clear those dead-fish eyes | |
which gazed up at me. I could have wept over the ruin had I not | |
remembered very clearly the vile life which had led up to so hideous | |
a change. It was loathsome to feel the pawing of his burning hands, | |
and I was relieved when his family surgeon, closely followed by a | |
specialist, came to relieve me of my charge. An inspector of police | |
had also arrived, and to him I handed my real card. It would have | |
been useless as well as foolish to do otherwise, for I was nearly as | |
well known by sight at the Yard as Holmes himself. Then I left that | |
house of gloom and terror. Within an hour I was at Baker Street. | |
Holmes was seated in his familiar chair, looking very pale and | |
exhausted. Apart from his injuries, even his iron nerves had been | |
shocked by the events of the evening, and he listened with horror to | |
my account of the Baron's transformation. | |
"The wages of sin, Watson--the wages of sin!" said he. "Sooner or | |
later it will always come. God knows, there was sin enough," he | |
added, taking up a brown volume from the table. "Here is the book the | |
woman talked of. If this will not break off the marriage, nothing | |
ever could. But it will, Watson. It must. No self-respecting woman | |
could stand it." | |
"It is his love diary?" | |
"Or his lust diary. Call it what you will. The moment the woman told | |
us of it I realized what a tremendous weapon was there if we could | |
but lay our hands on it. I said nothing at the time to indicate my | |
thoughts, for this woman might have given it away. But I brooded over | |
it. Then this assault upon me gave me the chance of letting the Baron | |
think that no precautions need be taken against me. That was all to | |
the good. I would have waited a little longer, but his visit to | |
America forced my hand. He would never have left so compromising a | |
document behind him. Therefore we had to act at once. Burglary at | |
night is impossible. He takes precautions. But there was a chance in | |
the evening if I could only be sure that his attention was engaged. | |
That was where you and your blue saucer came in. But I had to be sure | |
of the position of the book, and I knew I had only a few minutes in | |
which to act, for my time was limited by your knowledge of Chinese | |
pottery. Therefore I gathered the girl up at the last moment. How | |
could I guess what the little packet was that she carried so | |
carefully under her cloak? I thought she had come altogether on my | |
business, but it seems she had some of her own." | |
"He guessed I came from you." | |
"I feared he would. But you held him in play just long enough for me | |
to get the book, though not long enough for an unobserved escape. Ah, | |
Sir James, I am very glad you have come!" | |
Our courtly friend had appeared in answer to a previous summons. He | |
listened with the deepest attention to Holmes's account of what had | |
occurred. | |
"You have done wonders--wonders!" he cried when he had heard the | |
narrative. "But if these injuries are as terrible as Dr. Watson | |
describes, then surely our purpose of thwarting the marriage is | |
sufficiently gained without the use of this horrible book." | |
Holmes shook his head. | |
"Women of the De Merville type do not act like that. She would love | |
him the more as a disfigured martyr. No, no. It is his moral side, | |
not his physical, which we have to destroy. That book will bring her | |
back to earth--and I know nothing else that could. It is in his own | |
writing. She cannot get past it." | |
Sir James carried away both it and the precious saucer. As I was | |
myself overdue, I went down with him into the street. A brougham was | |
waiting for him. He sprang in, gave a hurried order to the cockaded | |
coachman, and drove swiftly away. He flung his overcoat half out of | |
the window to cover the armorial bearings upon the panel, but I had | |
seen them in the glare of our fanlight none the less. I gasped with | |
surprise. Then I turned back and ascended the stair to Holmes's room. | |
"I have found out who our client is," I cried, bursting with my great | |
news. "Why, Holmes, it is--" | |
"It is a loyal friend and a chivalrous gentleman," said Holmes, | |
holding up a restraining hand. "Let that now and forever be enough | |
for us." | |
I do not know how the incriminating book was used. Sir James may have | |
managed it. Or it is more probable that so delicate a task was | |
entrusted to the young lady's father. The effect, at any rate, was | |
all that could be desired. Three days later appeared a paragraph in | |
the Morning Post to say that the marriage between Baron Adelbert | |
Gruner and Miss Violet de Merville would not take place. The same | |
paper had the first police-court hearing of the proceedings against | |
Miss Kitty Winter on the grave charge of vitriol-throwing. Such | |
extenuating circumstances came out in the trial that the sentence, as | |
will be remembered, was the lowest that was possible for such an | |
offence. Sherlock Holmes was threatened with a prosecution for | |
burglary, but when an object is good and a client is sufficiently | |
illustrious, even the rigid British law becomes human and elastic. My | |
friend has not yet stood in the dock. | |
THE BLANCHED SOLDIER | |
The ideas of my friend Watson, though limited, are exceedingly | |
pertinacious. For a long time he has worried me to write an | |
experience of my own. Perhaps I have rather invited this persecution, | |
since I have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial | |
are his own accounts and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste | |
instead of confining himself rigidly to facts and figures. "Try it | |
yourself, Holmes!" he has retorted, and I am compelled to admit that, | |
having taken my pen in my hand, I do begin to realize that the matter | |
must be presented in such a way as may interest the reader. The | |
following case can hardly fail to do so, as it is among the strangest | |
happenings in my collection, though it chanced that Watson had no | |
note of it in his collection. Speaking of my old friend and | |
biographer, I would take this opportunity to remark that if I burden | |
myself with a companion in my various little inquiries it is not done | |
out of sentiment or caprice, but it is that Watson has some | |
remarkable characteristics of his own to which in his modesty he has | |
given small attention amid his exaggerated estimates of my own | |
performances. A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course | |
of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes | |
as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed | |
book, is indeed an ideal helpmate. | |
I find from my notebook that it was in January, 1903, just after the | |
conclusion of the Boer War, that I had my visit from Mr. James M. | |
Dodd, a big, fresh, sunburned, upstanding Briton. The good Watson had | |
at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I | |
can recall in our association. I was alone. | |
It is my habit to sit with my back to the window and to place my | |
visitors in the opposite chair, where the light falls full upon them. | |
Mr. James M. Dodd seemed somewhat at a loss how to begin the | |
interview. I did not attempt to help him, for his silence gave me | |
more time for observation. I have found it wise to impress clients | |
with a sense of power, and so I gave him some of my conclusions. | |
"From South Africa, sir, I perceive." | |
"Yes, sir," he answered, with some surprise. | |
"Imperial Yeomanry, I fancy." | |
"Exactly." | |
"Middlesex Corps, no doubt." | |
"That is so. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard." | |
I smiled at his bewildered expression. | |
"When a gentleman of virile appearance enters my room with such tan | |
upon his face as an English sun could never give, and with his | |
handkerchief in his sleeve instead of in his pocket, it is not | |
difficult to place him. You wear a short beard, which shows that you | |
were not a regular. You have the cut of a riding-man. As to | |
Middlesex, your card has already shown me that you are a stockbroker | |
from Throgmorton Street. What other regiment would you join?" | |
"You see everything." | |
"I see no more than you, but I have trained myself to notice what I | |
see. However, Mr. Dodd, it was not to discuss the science of | |
observation that you called upon me this morning. What has been | |
happening at Tuxbury Old Park?" | |
"Mr. Holmes--!" | |
"My dear sir, there is no mystery. Your letter came with that | |
heading, and as you fixed this appointment in very pressing terms it | |
was clear that something sudden and important had occurred." | |
"Yes, indeed. But the letter was written in the afternoon, and a good | |
deal has happened since then. If Colonel Emsworth had not kicked me | |
out--" | |
"Kicked you out!" | |
"Well, that was what it amounted to. He is a hard nail, is Colonel | |
Emsworth. The greatest martinet in the Army in his day, and it was a | |
day of rough language, too. I couldn't have stuck the colonel if it | |
had not been for Godfrey's sake." | |
I lit my pipe and leaned back in my chair. | |
"Perhaps you will explain what you are talking about." | |
My client grinned mischievously. | |
"I had got into the way of supposing that you knew everything without | |
being told," said he. "But I will give you the facts, and I hope to | |
God that you will be able to tell me what they mean. I've been awake | |
all night puzzling my brain, and the more I think the more incredible | |
does it become. | |
"When I joined up in January, 1901--just two years ago--young Godfrey | |
Emsworth had joined the same squadron. He was Colonel Emsworth's only | |
son--Emsworth, the Crimean V. C.--and he had the fighting blood in | |
him, so it is no wonder he volunteered. There was not a finer lad in | |
the regiment. We formed a friendship--the sort of friendship which | |
can only be made when one lives the same life and shares the same | |
joys and sorrows. He was my mate--and that means a good deal in the | |
Army. We took the rough and the smooth together for a year of hard | |
fighting. Then he was hit with a bullet from an elephant gun in the | |
action near Diamond Hill outside Pretoria. I got one letter from the | |
hospital at Cape Town and one from Southampton. Since then not a | |
word--not one word, Mr. Holmes, for six months and more, and he my | |
closest pal. | |
"Well, when the war was over, and we all got back, I wrote to his | |
father and asked where Godfrey was. No answer. I waited a bit and | |
then I wrote again. This time I had a reply, short and gruff. Godfrey | |
had gone on a voyage round the world, and it was not likely that he | |
would be back for a year. That was all. | |
"I wasn't satisfied, Mr. Holmes. The whole thing seemed to me so | |
damned unnatural. He was a good lad, and he would not drop a pal like | |
that. It was not like him. Then, again, I happened to know that he | |
was heir to a lot of money, and also that his father and he did not | |
always hit it off too well. The old man was sometimes a bully, and | |
young Godfrey had too much spirit to stand it. No, I wasn't | |
satisfied, and I determined that I would get to the root of the | |
matter. It happened, however, that my own affairs needed a lot of | |
straightening out, after two years' absence, and so it is only this | |
week that I have been able to take up Godfrey's case again. But since | |
I have taken it up I mean to drop everything in order to see it | |
through." | |
Mr. James M. Dodd appeared to be the sort of person whom it would be | |
better to have as a friend than as an enemy. His blue eyes were stern | |
and his square jaw had set hard as he spoke. | |
"Well, what have you done?" I asked. | |
"My first move was to get down to his home, Tuxbury Old Park, near | |
Bedford, and to see for myself how the ground lay. I wrote to the | |
mother, therefore--I had had quite enough of the curmudgeon of a | |
father--and I made a clean frontal attack: Godfrey was my chum, I had | |
a great deal of interest which I might tell her of our common | |
experiences, I should be in the neighbourhood, would there be any | |
objection, et cetera? In reply I had quite an amiable answer from her | |
and an offer to put me up for the night. That was what took me down | |
on Monday. | |
"Tuxbury Old Hall is inaccessible--five miles from anywhere. There | |
was no trap at the station, so I had to walk, carrying my suitcase, | |
and it was nearly dark before I arrived. It is a great wandering | |
house, standing in a considerable park. I should judge it was of all | |
sorts of ages and styles, starting on a half-timbered Elizabethan | |
foundation and ending in a Victorian portico. Inside it was all | |
panelling and tapestry and half-effaced old pictures, a house of | |
shadows and mystery. There was a butler, old Ralph, who seemed about | |
the same age as the house, and there was his wife, who might have | |
been older. She had been Godfrey's nurse, and I had heard him speak | |
of her as second only to his mother in his affections, so I was drawn | |
to her in spite of her queer appearance. The mother I liked also--a | |
gentle little white mouse of a woman. It was only the colonel himself | |
whom I barred. | |
"We had a bit of barney right away, and I should have walked back to | |
the station if I had not felt that it might be playing his game for | |
me to do so. I was shown straight into his study, and there I found | |
him, a huge, bow-backed man with a smoky skin and a straggling gray | |
beard, seated behind his littered desk. A red-veined nose jutted out | |
like a vulture's beak, and two fierce gray eyes glared at me from | |
under tufted brows. I could understand now why Godfrey seldom spoke | |
of his father. | |
"'Well, sir,' said he in a rasping voice, 'I should be interested to | |
know the real reasons for this visit.' | |
"I answered that I had explained them in my letter to his wife. | |
"'Yes, yes, you said that you had known Godfrey in Africa. We have, | |
of course, only your word for that.' | |
"'I have his letters to me in my pocket.' | |
"'Kindly let me see them.' | |
"He glanced at the two which I handed him, and then he tossed them | |
back. | |
"'Well, what then?' he asked. | |
"'I was fond of your son Godfrey, sir. Many ties and memories united | |
us. Is it not natural that I should wonder at his sudden silence and | |
should wish to know what has become of him?' | |
"'I have some recollections, sir, that I had already corresponded | |
with you and had told you what had become of him. He has gone upon a | |
voyage round the world. His health was in a poor way after his | |
African experiences, and both his mother and I were of opinion that | |
complete rest and change were needed. Kindly pass that explanation on | |
to any other friends who may be interested in the matter.' | |
"'Certainly,' I answered. 'But perhaps you would have the goodness to | |
let me have the name of the steamer and of the line by which he | |
sailed, together with the date. I have no doubt that I should be able | |
to get a letter through to him.' | |
"My request seemed both to puzzle and to irritate my host. His great | |
eyebrows came down over his eyes, and he tapped his fingers | |
impatiently on the table. He looked up at last with the expression of | |
one who has seen his adversary make a dangerous move at chess, and | |
has decided how to meet it. | |
"'Many people, Mr. Dodd,' said he, 'would take offence at your | |
infernal pertinacity and would think that this insistence had reached | |
the point of damned impertinence.' | |
"'You must put it down, sir, to my real love for your son.' | |
"'Exactly. I have already made every allowance upon that score. I | |
must ask you, however, to drop these inquiries. Every family has its | |
own inner knowledge and its own motives, which cannot always be made | |
clear to outsiders, however well-intentioned. My wife is anxious to | |
hear something of Godfrey's past which you are in a position to tell | |
her, but I would ask you to let the present and the future alone. | |
Such inquiries serve no useful purpose, sir, and place us in a | |
delicate and difficult position.' | |
"So I came to a dead end, Mr. Holmes. There was no getting past it. I | |
could only pretend to accept the situation and register a vow | |
inwardly that I would never rest until my friend's fate had been | |
cleared up. It was a dull evening. We dined quietly, the three of us, | |
in a gloomy, faded old room. The lady questioned me eagerly about her | |
son, but the old man seemed morose and depressed. I was so bored by | |
the whole proceeding that I made an excuse as soon as I decently | |
could and retired to my bedroom. It was a large, bare room on the | |
ground floor, as gloomy as the rest of the house, but after a year of | |
sleeping upon the veldt, Mr. Holmes, one is not too particular about | |
one's quarters. I opened the curtains and looked out into the garden, | |
remarking that it was a fine night with a bright half-moon. Then I | |
sat down by the roaring fire with the lamp on a table beside me, and | |
endeavoured to distract my mind with a novel. I was interrupted, | |
however, by Ralph, the old butler, who came in with a fresh supply of | |
coals. | |
"'I thought you might run short in the night-time, sir. It is bitter | |
weather and these rooms are cold.' | |
"He hesitated before leaving the room, and when I looked round he was | |
standing facing me with a wistful look upon his wrinkled face. | |
"'Beg your pardon, sir, but I could not help hearing what you said of | |
young Master Godfrey at dinner. You know, sir, that my wife nursed | |
him, and so I may say I am his foster-father. It's natural we should | |
take an interest. And you say he carried himself well, sir?' | |
"'There was no braver man in the regiment. He pulled me out once from | |
under the rifles of the Boers, or maybe I should not be here.' | |
"The old butler rubbed his skinny hands. | |
"'Yes, sir, yes, that is Master Godfrey all over. He was always | |
courageous. There's not a tree in the park, sir, that he has not | |
climbed. Nothing would stop him. He was a fine boy--and oh, sir, he | |
was a fine man.' | |
"I sprang to my feet. | |
"'Look here!' I cried. 'You say he was. You speak as if he were dead. | |
What is all this mystery? What has become of Godfrey Emsworth?' | |
"I gripped the old man by the shoulder, but he shrank away. | |
"'I don't know what you mean, sir. Ask the master about Master | |
Godfrey. He knows. It is not for me to interfere.' | |
"He was leaving the room, but I held his arm. | |
"'Listen,' I said. 'You are going to answer one question before you | |
leave if I have to hold you all night. Is Godfrey dead?' | |
"He could not face my eyes. He was like a man hypnotized. The answer | |
was dragged from his lips. It was a terrible and unexpected one. | |
"'I wish to God he was!' he cried, and, tearing himself free, he | |
dashed from the room. | |
"You will think, Mr. Holmes, that I returned to my chair in no very | |
happy state of mind. The old man's words seemed to me to bear only | |
one interpretation. Clearly my poor friend had become involved in | |
some criminal or, at the least, disreputable transaction which | |
touched the family honour. That stern old man had sent his son away | |
and hidden him from the world lest some scandal should come to light. | |
Godfrey was a reckless fellow. He was easily influenced by those | |
around him. No doubt he had fallen into bad hands and been misled to | |
his ruin. It was a piteous business, if it was indeed so, but even | |
now it was my duty to hunt him out and see if I could aid him. I was | |
anxiously pondering the matter when I looked up, and there was | |
Godfrey Emsworth standing before me." | |
My client had paused as one in deep emotion. | |
"Pray continue," I said. "Your problem presents some very unusual | |
features." | |
"He was outside the window, Mr. Holmes, with his face pressed against | |
the glass. I have told you that I looked out at the night. When I did | |
so I left the curtains partly open. His figure was framed in this | |
gap. The window came down to the ground and I could see the whole | |
length of it, but it was his face which held my gaze. He was deadly | |
pale--never have I seen a man so white. I reckon ghosts may look like | |
that; but his eyes met mine, and they were the eyes of a living man. | |
He sprang back when he saw that I was looking at him, and he vanished | |
into the darkness. | |
"There was something shocking about the man, Mr. Holmes. It wasn't | |
merely that ghastly face glimmering as white as cheese in the | |
darkness. It was more subtle than that--something slinking, something | |
furtive, something guilty-- something very unlike the frank, manly | |
lad that I had known. It left a feeling of horror in my mind. | |
"But when a man has been soldiering for a year or two with brother | |
Boer as a playmate, he keeps his nerve and acts quickly. Godfrey had | |
hardly vanished before I was at the window. There was an awkward | |
catch, and I was some little time before I could throw it up. Then I | |
nipped through and ran down the garden path in the direction that I | |
thought he might have taken. | |
"It was a long path and the light was not very good, but it seemed to | |
me something was moving ahead of me. I ran on and called his name, | |
but it was no use. When I got to the end of the path there were | |
several others branching in different directions to various | |
outhouses. I stood hesitating, and as I did so I heard distinctly the | |
sound of a closing door. It was not behind me in the house, but ahead | |
of me, somewhere in the darkness. That was enough, Mr. Holmes, to | |
assure me that what I had seen was not a vision. Godfrey had run away | |
from me, and he had shut a door behind him. Of that I was certain. | |
"There was nothing more I could do, and I spent an uneasy night | |
turning the matter over in my mind and trying to find some theory | |
which would cover the facts. Next day I found the colonel rather more | |
conciliatory, and as his wife remarked that there were some places of | |
interest in the neighbourhood, it gave me an opening to ask whether | |
my presence for one more night would incommode them. A somewhat | |
grudging acquiescence from the old man gave me a clear day in which | |
to make my observations. I was already perfectly convinced that | |
Godfrey was in hiding somewhere near, but where and why remained to | |
be solved. | |
"The house was so large and so rambling that a regiment might be hid | |
away in it and no one the wiser. If the secret lay there it was | |
difficult for me to penetrate it. But the door which I had heard | |
close was certainly not in the house. I must explore the garden and | |
see what I could find. There was no difficulty in the way, for the | |
old people were busy in their own fashion and left me to my own | |
devices. | |
"There were several small outhouses, but at the end of the garden | |
there was a detached building of some size--large enough for a | |
gardener's or a gamekeeper's residence. Could this be the place | |
whence the sound of that shutting door had come? I approached it in a | |
careless fashion as though I were strolling aimlessly round the | |
grounds. As I did so, a small, brisk, bearded man in a black coat and | |
bowler hat--not at all the gardener type--came out of the door. To my | |
surprise, he locked it after him and put the key in his pocket. Then | |
he looked at me with some surprise on his face. | |
"'Are you a visitor here?' he asked. | |
"I explained that I was and that I was a friend of Godfrey's. | |
"'What a pity that he should be away on his travels, for he would | |
have so liked to see me,' I continued. | |
"'Quite so. Exactly,' said he with a rather guilty air. 'No doubt you | |
will renew your visit at some more propitious time.' He passed on, | |
but when I turned I observed that he was standing watching me, | |
half-concealed by the laurels at the far end of the garden. | |
"I had a good look at the little house as I passed it, but the | |
windows were heavily curtained, and, so far as one could see, it was | |
empty. I might spoil my own game and even be ordered off the premises | |
if I were too audacious, for I was still conscious that I was being | |
watched. Therefore, I strolled back to the house and waited for night | |
before I went on with my inquiry. When all was dark and quiet I | |
slipped out of my window and made my way as silently as possible to | |
the mysterious lodge. | |
"I have said that it was heavily curtained, but now I found that the | |
windows were shuttered as well. Some light, however, was breaking | |
through one of them, so I concentrated my attention upon this. I was | |
in luck, for the curtain had not been quite closed, and there was a | |
crack in the shutter, so that I could see the inside of the room. It | |
was a cheery place enough, a bright lamp and a blazing fire. Opposite | |
to me was seated the little man whom I had seen in the morning. He | |
was smoking a pipe and reading a paper." | |
"What paper?" I asked. | |
My client seemed annoyed at the interruption of his narrative. | |
"Can it matter?" he asked. | |
"It is most essential." | |
"I really took no notice." | |
"Possibly you observed whether it was a broad-leafed paper or of that | |
smaller type which one associates with weeklies." | |
"Now that you mention it, it was not large. It might have been the | |
Spectator. However, I had little thought to spare upon such details, | |
for a second man was seated with his back to the window, and I could | |
swear that this second man was Godfrey. I could not see his face, but | |
I knew the familiar slope of his shoulders. He was leaning upon his | |
elbow in an attitude of great melancholy, his body turned towards the | |
fire. I was hesitating as to what I should do when there was a sharp | |
tap on my shoulder, and there was Colonel Emsworth beside me. | |
"'This way, sir!' said he in a low voice. He walked in silence to the | |
house, and I followed him into my own bedroom. He had picked up a | |
time-table in the hall. | |
"'There is a train to London at 8.30,' said he. 'The trap will be at | |
the door at eight.' | |
"He was white with rage, and, indeed, I felt myself in so difficult a | |
position that I could only stammer out a few incoherent apologies in | |
which I tried to excuse myself by urging my anxiety for my friend. | |
"'The matter will not bear discussion,' said he abruptly. 'You have | |
made a most damnable intrusion into the privacy of our family. You | |
were here as a guest and you have become a spy. I have nothing more | |
to say, sir, save that I have no wish ever to see you again.' | |
"At this I lost my temper, Mr. Holmes, and I spoke with some warmth. | |
"'I have seen your son, and I am convinced that for some reason of | |
your own you are concealing him from the world. I have no idea what | |
your motives are in cutting him off in this fashion, but I am sure | |
that he is no longer a free agent. I warn you, Colonel Emsworth, that | |
until I am assured as to the safety and well-being of my friend I | |
shall never desist in my efforts to get to the bottom of the mystery, | |
and I shall certainly not allow myself to be intimidated by anything | |
which you may say or do.' | |
"The old fellow looked diabolical, and I really thought he was about | |
to attack me. I have said that he was a gaunt, fierce old giant, and | |
though I am no weakling I might have been hard put to it to hold my | |
own against him. However, after a long glare of rage he turned upon | |
his heel and walked out of the room. For my part, I took the | |
appointed train in the morning, with the full intention of coming | |
straight to you and asking for your advice and assistance at the | |
appointment for which I had already written." | |
Such was the problem which my visitor laid before me. It presented, | |
as the astute reader will have already perceived, few difficulties in | |
its solution, for a very limited choice of alternatives must get to | |
the root of the matter. Still, elementary as it was, there were | |
points of interest and novelty about it which may excuse my placing | |
it upon record. I now proceeded, using my familiar method of logical | |
analysis, to narrow down the possible solutions. | |
"The servants," I asked; "how many were in the house?" | |
"To the best of my belief there were only the old butler and his | |
wife. They seemed to live in the simplest fashion." | |
"There was no servant, then, in the detached house?" | |
"None, unless the little man with the beard acted as such. He seemed, | |
however, to be quite a superior person." | |
"That seems very suggestive. Had you any indication that food was | |
conveyed from the one house to the other?" | |
"Now that you mention it, I did see old Ralph carrying a basket down | |
the garden walk and going in the direction of this house. The idea of | |
food did not occur to me at the moment." | |
"Did you make any local inquiries?" | |
"Yes, I did. I spoke to the station-master and also to the innkeeper | |
in the village. I simply asked if they knew anything of my old | |
comrade, Godfrey Emsworth. Both of them assured me that he had gone | |
for a voyage round the world. He had come home and then had almost at | |
once started off again. The story was evidently universally | |
accepted." | |
"You said nothing of your suspicions?" | |
"Nothing." | |
"That was very wise. The matter should certainly be inquired into. I | |
will go back with you to Tuxbury Old Park." | |
"To-day?" | |
It happened that at the moment I was clearing up the case which my | |
friend Watson has described as that of the Abbey School, in which the | |
Duke of Greyminster was so deeply involved. I had also a commission | |
from the Sultan of Turkey which called for immediate action, as | |
political consequences of the gravest kind might arise from its | |
neglect. Therefore it was not until the beginning of the next week, | |
as my diary records, that I was able to start forth on my mission to | |
Bedfordshire in company with Mr. James M. Dodd. As we drove to Euston | |
we picked up a grave and taciturn gentleman of iron-gray aspect, with | |
whom I had made the necessary arrangements. | |
"This is an old friend," said I to Dodd. "It is possible that his | |
presence may be entirely unnecessary, and, on the other hand, it may | |
be essential. It is not necessary at the present stage to go further | |
into the matter." | |
The narratives of Watson have accustomed the reader, no doubt, to the | |
fact that I do not waste words or disclose my thoughts while a case | |
is actually under consideration. Dodd seemed surprised, but nothing | |
more was said, and the three of us continued our journey together. In | |
the train I asked Dodd one more question which I wished our companion | |
to hear. | |
"You say that you saw your friend's face quite clearly at the window, | |
so clearly that you are sure of his identity?" | |
"I have no doubt about it whatever. His nose was pressed against the | |
glass. The lamplight shone full upon him." | |
"It could not have been someone resembling him?" | |
"No, no, it was he." | |
"But you say he was changed?" | |
"Only in colour. His face was--how shall I describe it?--it was of a | |
fish-belly whiteness. It was bleached." | |
"Was it equally pale all over?" | |
"I think not. It was his brow which I saw so clearly as it was | |
pressed against the window." | |
"Did you call to him?" | |
"I was too startled and horrified for the moment. Then I pursued him, | |
as I have told you, but without result." | |
My case was practically complete, and there was only one small | |
incident needed to round it off. When, after a considerable drive, we | |
arrived at the strange old rambling house which my client had | |
described, it was Ralph, the elderly butler, who opened the door. I | |
had requisitioned the carriage for the day and had asked my elderly | |
friend to remain within it unless we should summon him. Ralph, a | |
little wrinkled old fellow, was in the conventional costume of black | |
coat and pepper-and-salt trousers, with only one curious variant. He | |
wore brown leather gloves, which at sight of us he instantly shuffled | |
off, laying them down on the hall-table as we passed in. I have, as | |
my friend Watson may have remarked, an abnormally acute set of | |
senses, and a faint but incisive scent was apparent. It seemed to | |
centre on the hall-table. I turned, placed my hat there, knocked it | |
off, stooped to pick it up, and contrived to bring my nose within a | |
foot of the gloves. Yes, it was undoubtedly from them that the | |
curious tarry odour was oozing. I passed on into the study with my | |
case complete. Alas, that I should have to show my hand so when I | |
tell my own story! It was by concealing such links in the chain that | |
Watson was enabled to produce his meretricious finales. | |
Colonel Emsworth was not in his room, but he came quickly enough on | |
receipt of Ralph's message. We heard his quick, heavy step in the | |
passage. The door was flung open and he rushed in with bristling | |
beard and twisted features, as terrible an old man as ever I have | |
seen. He held our cards in his hand, and he tore them up and stamped | |
on the fragments. | |
"Have I not told you, you infernal busybody, that you are warned off | |
the premises? Never dare to show your damned face here again. If you | |
enter again without my leave I shall be within my rights if I use | |
violence. I'll shoot you, sir! By God, I will! As to you, sir," | |
turning upon me, "I extend the same warning to you. I am familiar | |
with your ignoble profession, but you must take your reputed talents | |
to some other field. There is no opening for them here." | |
"I cannot leave here," said my client firmly, "until I hear from | |
Godfrey's own lips that he is under no restraint." | |
Our involuntary host rang the bell. | |
"Ralph," he said, "telephone down to the county police and ask the | |
inspector to send up two constables. Tell him there are burglars in | |
the house." | |
"One moment," said I. "You must be aware, Mr. Dodd, that Colonel | |
Emsworth is within his rights and that we have no legal status within | |
his house. On the other hand, he should recognize that your action is | |
prompted entirely by solicitude for his son. I venture to hope that | |
if I were allowed to have five minutes' conversation with Colonel | |
Emsworth I could certainly alter his view of the matter." | |
"I am not so easily altered," said the old soldier. "Ralph, do what I | |
have told you. What the devil are you waiting for? Ring up the | |
police!" | |
"Nothing of the sort," I said, putting my back to the door. "Any | |
police interference would bring about the very catastrophe which you | |
dread." I took out my notebook and scribbled one word upon a loose | |
sheet. "That," said I as I handed it to Colonel Emsworth, "is what | |
has brought us here." | |
He stared at the writing with a face from which every expression save | |
amazement had vanished. | |
"How do you know?" he gasped, sitting down heavily in his chair. | |
"It is my business to know things. That is my trade." | |
He sat in deep thought, his gaunt hand tugging at his straggling | |
beard. Then he made a gesture of resignation. | |
"Well, if you wish to see Godfrey, you shall. It is no doing of mine, | |
but you have forced my hand. Ralph, tell Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Kent | |
that in five minutes we shall be with them." | |
At the end of that time we passed down the garden path and found | |
ourselves in front of the mystery house at the end. A small bearded | |
man stood at the door with a look of considerable astonishment upon | |
his face. | |
"This is very sudden, Colonel Emsworth," said he. "This will | |
disarrange all our plans." | |
"I can't help it, Mr. Kent. Our hands have been forced. Can Mr. | |
Godfrey see us?" | |
"Yes, he is waiting inside." He turned and led us into a large, | |
plainly furnished front room. A man was standing with his back to the | |
fire, and at the sight of him my client sprang forward with | |
outstretched hand. | |
"Why, Godfrey, old man, this is fine!" | |
But the other waved him back. | |
"Don't touch me, Jimmie. Keep your distance. Yes, you may well stare! | |
I don't quite look the smart Lance-Corporal Emsworth, of B Squadron, | |
do I?" | |
His appearance was certainly extraordinary. One could see that he had | |
indeed been a handsome man with clear-cut features sunburned by an | |
African sun, but mottled in patches over this darker surface were | |
curious whitish patches which had bleached his skin. | |
"That's why I don't court visitors," said he. "I don't mind you, | |
Jimmie, but I could have done without your friend. I suppose there is | |
some good reason for it, but you have me at a disadvantage." | |
"I wanted to be sure that all was well with you, Godfrey. I saw you | |
that night when you looked into my window, and I could not let the | |
matter rest till I had cleared things up." | |
"Old Ralph told me you were there, and I couldn't help taking a peep | |
at you. I hoped you would not have seen me, and I had to run to my | |
burrow when I heard the window go up." | |
"But what in heaven's name is the matter?" | |
"Well, it's not a long story to tell," said he, lighting a cigarette. | |
"You remember that morning fight at Buffelsspruit, outside Pretoria, | |
on the Eastern railway line? You heard I was hit?" | |
"Yes, I heard that, but I never got particulars." | |
"Three of us got separated from the others. It was very broken | |
country, you may remember. There was Simpson--the fellow we called | |
Baldy Simpson-- and Anderson, and I. We were clearing brother Boer, | |
but he lay low and got the three of us. The other two were killed. I | |
got an elephant bullet through my shoulder. I stuck on to my horse, | |
however, and he galloped several miles before I fainted and rolled | |
off the saddle. | |
"When I came to myself it was nightfall, and I raised myself up, | |
feeling very weak and ill. To my surprise there was a house close | |
beside me, a fairly large house with a broad stoep and many windows. | |
It was deadly cold. You remember the kind of numb cold which used to | |
come at evening, a deadly, sickening sort of cold, very different | |
from a crisp healthy frost. Well, I was chilled to the bone, and my | |
only hope seemed to lie in reaching that house. I staggered to my | |
feet and dragged myself along, hardly conscious of what I did. I have | |
a dim memory of slowly ascending the steps, entering a wide-opened | |
door, passing into a large room which contained several beds, and | |
throwing myself down with a gasp of satisfaction upon one of them. It | |
was unmade, but that troubled me not at all. I drew the clothes over | |
my shivering body and in a moment I was in a deep sleep. | |
"It was morning when I wakened, and it seemed to me that instead of | |
coming out into a world of sanity I had emerged into some | |
extraordinary nightmare. The African sun flooded through the big, | |
curtainless windows, and every detail of the great, bare, whitewashed | |
dormitory stood out hard and clear. In front of me was standing a | |
small, dwarf-like man with a huge, bulbous head, who was jabbering | |
excitedly in Dutch, waving two horrible hands which looked to me like | |
brown sponges. Behind him stood a group of people who seemed to be | |
intensely amused by the situation, but a chill came over me as I | |
looked at them. Not one of them was a normal human being. Every one | |
was twisted or swollen or disfigured in some strange way. The | |
laughter of these strange monstrosities was a dreadful thing to hear. | |
"It seemed that none of them could speak English, but the situation | |
wanted clearing up, for the creature with the big head was growing | |
furiously angry, and, uttering wild-beast cries, he had laid his | |
deformed hands upon me and was dragging me out of bed, regardless of | |
the fresh flow of blood from my wound. The little monster was as | |
strong as a bull, and I don't know what he might have done to me had | |
not an elderly man who was clearly in authority been attracted to the | |
room by the hubbub. He said a few stern words in Dutch, and my | |
persecutor shrank away. Then he turned upon me, gazing at me in the | |
utmost amazement. | |
"'How in the world did you come here?' he asked in amazement. 'Wait a | |
bit! I see that you are tired out and that wounded shoulder of yours | |
wants looking after. I am a doctor, and I'll soon have you tied up. | |
But, man alive! you are in far greater danger here than ever you were | |
on the battlefield. You are in the Leper Hospital, and you have slept | |
in a leper's bed.' | |
"Need I tell you more, Jimmie? It seems that in view of the | |
approaching battle all these poor creatures had been evacuated the | |
day before. Then, as the British advanced, they had been brought back | |
by this, their medical superintendent, who assured me that, though he | |
believed he was immune to the disease, he would none the less never | |
have dared to do what I had done. He put me in a private room, | |
treated me kindly, and within a week or so I was removed to the | |
general hospital at Pretoria. | |
"So there you have my tragedy. I hoped against hope, but it was not | |
until I had reached home that the terrible signs which you see upon | |
my face told me that I had not escaped. What was I to do? I was in | |
this lonely house. We had two servants whom we could utterly trust. | |
There was a house where I could live. Under pledge of secrecy, Mr. | |
Kent, who is a surgeon, was prepared to stay with me. It seemed | |
simple enough on those lines. The alternative was a dreadful | |
one--segregation for life among strangers with never a hope of | |
release. But absolute secrecy was necessary, or even in this quiet | |
countryside there would have been an outcry, and I should have been | |
dragged to my horrible doom. Even you, Jimmie--even you had to be | |
kept in the dark. Why my father has relented I cannot imagine." | |
Colonel Emsworth pointed to me. | |
"This is the gentleman who forced my hand." He unfolded the scrap of | |
paper on which I had written the word "Leprosy." "It seemed to me | |
that if he knew so much as that it was safer that he should know | |
all." | |
"And so it was," said I. "Who knows but good may come of it? I | |
understand that only Mr. Kent has seen the patient. May I ask, sir, | |
if you are an authority on such complaints, which are, I understand, | |
tropical or semi-tropical in their nature?" | |
"I have the ordinary knowledge of the educated medical man," he | |
observed with some stiffness. | |
"I have no doubt, sir, that you are fully competent, but I am sure | |
that you will agree that in such a case a second opinion is valuable. | |
You have avoided this, I understand, for fear that pressure should be | |
put upon you to segregate the patient." | |
"That is so," said Colonel Emsworth. | |
"I foresaw this situation," I explained, "and I have brought with me | |
a friend whose discretion may absolutely be trusted. I was able once | |
to do him a professional service, and he is ready to advise as a | |
friend rather than as a specialist. His name is Sir James Saunders." | |
The prospect of an interview with Lord Roberts would not have excited | |
greater wonder and pleasure in a raw subaltern than was now reflected | |
upon the face of Mr. Kent. | |
"I shall indeed be proud," he murmured. | |
"Then I will ask Sir James to step this way. He is at present in the | |
carriage outside the door. Meanwhile, Colonel Emsworth, we may | |
perhaps assemble in your study, where I could give the necessary | |
explanations." | |
And here it is that I miss my Watson. By cunning questions and | |
ejaculations of wonder he could elevate my simple art, which is but | |
systematized common sense, into a prodigy. When I tell my own story I | |
have no such aid. And yet I will give my process of thought even as I | |
gave it to my small audience, which included Godfrey's mother in the | |
study of Colonel Emsworth. | |
"That process," said I, "starts upon the supposition that when you | |
have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, | |
however improbable, must be the truth. It may well be that several | |
explanations remain, in which case one tries test after test until | |
one or other of them has a convincing amount of support. We will now | |
apply this principle to the case in point. As it was first presented | |
to me, there were three possible explanations of the seclusion or | |
incarceration of this gentleman in an outhouse of his father's | |
mansion. There was the explanation that he was in hiding for a crime, | |
or that he was mad and that they wished to avoid an asylum, or that | |
he had some disease which caused his segregation. I could think of no | |
other adequate solutions. These, then, had to be sifted and balanced | |
against each other. | |
"The criminal solution would not bear inspection. No unsolved crime | |
had been reported from that district. I was sure of that. If it were | |
some crime not yet discovered, then clearly it would be to the | |
interest of the family to get rid of the delinquent and send him | |
abroad rather than keep him concealed at home. I could see no | |
explanation for such a line of conduct. | |
"Insanity was more plausible. The presence of the second person in | |
the outhouse suggested a keeper. The fact that he locked the door | |
when he came out strengthened the supposition and gave the idea of | |
constraint. On the other hand, this constraint could not be severe or | |
the young man could not have got loose and come down to have a look | |
at his friend. You will remember, Mr. Dodd, that I felt round for | |
points, asking you, for example, about the paper which Mr. Kent was | |
reading. Had it been the Lancet or the British Medical Journal it | |
would have helped me. It is not illegal, however, to keep a lunatic | |
upon private premises so long as there is a qualified person in | |
attendance and that the authorities have been duly notified. Why, | |
then, all this desperate desire for secrecy? Once again I could not | |
get the theory to fit the facts. | |
"There remained the third possibility, into which, rare and unlikely | |
as it was, everything seemed to fit. Leprosy is not uncommon in South | |
Africa. By some extraordinary chance this youth might have contracted | |
it. His people would be placed in a very dreadful position, since | |
they would desire to save him from segregation. Great secrecy would | |
be needed to prevent rumours from getting about and subsequent | |
interference by the authorities. A devoted medical man, if | |
sufficiently paid, would easily be found to take charge of the | |
sufferer. There would be no reason why the latter should not be | |
allowed freedom after dark. Bleaching of the skin is a common result | |
of the disease. The case was a strong one--so strong that I | |
determined to act as if it were actually proved. When on arriving | |
here I noticed that Ralph, who carries out the meals, had gloves | |
which are impregnated with disinfectants, my last doubts were | |
removed. A single word showed you, sir, that your secret was | |
discovered, and if I wrote rather than said it, it was to prove to | |
you that my discretion was to be trusted." | |
I was finishing this little analysis of the case when the door was | |
opened and the austere figure of the great dermatologist was ushered | |
in. But for once his sphinx-like features had relaxed and there was a | |
warm humanity in his eyes. He strode up to Colonel Emsworth and shook | |
him by the hand. | |
"It is often my lot to bring ill-tidings and seldom good," said he. | |
"This occasion is the more welcome. It is not leprosy." | |
"What?" | |
"A well-marked case of pseudo-leprosy or ichthyosis, a scale-like | |
affection of the skin, unsightly, obstinate, but possibly curable, | |
and certainly noninfective. Yes, Mr. Holmes, the coincidence is a | |
remarkable one. But is it coincidence? Are there not subtle forces at | |
work of which we know little? Are we assured that the apprehension | |
from which this young man has no doubt suffered terribly since his | |
exposure to its contagion may not produce a physical effect which | |
simulates that which it fears? At any rate, I pledge my professional | |
reputation-- But the lady has fainted! I think that Mr. Kent had | |
better be with her until she recovers from this joyous shock." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE MAZARIN STONE | |
It was pleasant to Dr. Watson to find himself once more in the untidy | |
room of the first floor in Baker Street which had been the | |
starting-point of so many remarkable adventures. He looked round him | |
at the scientific charts upon the wall, the acid-charred bench of | |
chemicals, the violin-case leaning in the corner, the coal-scuttle, | |
which contained of old the pipes and tobacco. Finally, his eyes came | |
round to the fresh and smiling face of Billy, the young but very wise | |
and tactful page, who had helped a little to fill up the gap of | |
loneliness and isolation which surrounded the saturnine figure of the | |
great detective. | |
"It all seems very unchanged, Billy. You don't change, either. I hope | |
the same can be said of him?" | |
Billy glanced with some solicitude at the closed door of the bedroom. | |
"I think he's in bed and asleep," he said. | |
It was seven in the evening of a lovely summer's day, but Dr. Watson | |
was sufficiently familiar with the irregularity of his old friend's | |
hours to feel no surprise at the idea. | |
"That means a case, I suppose?" | |
"Yes, sir, he is very hard at it just now. I'm frightened for his | |
health. He gets paler and thinner, and he eats nothing. 'When will | |
you be pleased to dine, Mr. Holmes?' Mrs. Hudson asked. | |
'Seven-thirty, the day after to-morrow,' said he. You know his way | |
when he is keen on a case." | |
"Yes, Billy, I know." | |
"He's following someone. Yesterday he was out as a workman looking | |
for a job. To-day he was an old woman. Fairly took me in, he did, and | |
I ought to know his ways by now." Billy pointed with a grin to a very | |
baggy parasol which leaned against the sofa. "That's part of the old | |
woman's outfit," he said. | |
"But what is it all about, Billy?" | |
Billy sank his voice, as one who discusses great secrets of State. "I | |
don't mind telling you, sir, but it should go no farther. It's this | |
case of the Crown diamond." | |
"What--the hundred-thousand-pound burglary?" | |
"Yes, sir. They must get it back, sir. Why, we had the Prime Minister | |
and the Home Secretary both sitting on that very sofa. Mr. Holmes was | |
very nice to them. He soon put them at their ease and promised he | |
would do all he could. Then there is Lord Cantlemere--" | |
"Ah!" | |
"Yes, sir, you know what that means. He's a stiff 'un, sir, if I may | |
say so. I can get along with the Prime Minister, and I've nothing | |
against the Home Secretary, who seemed a civil, obliging sort of man, | |
but I can't stand his Lordship. Neither can Mr. Holmes, sir. You see, | |
he don't believe in Mr. Holmes and he was against employing him. He'd | |
rather he failed." | |
"And Mr. Holmes knows it?" | |
"Mr. Holmes always knows whatever there is to know." | |
"Well, we'll hope he won't fail and that Lord Cantlemere will be | |
confounded. But I say, Billy, what is that curtain for across the | |
window?" | |
"Mr. Holmes had it put up there three days ago. We've got something | |
funny behind it." | |
Billy advanced and drew away the drapery which screened the alcove of | |
the bow window. | |
Dr. Watson could not restrain a cry of amazement. There was a | |
facsimile of his old friend, dressing-gown and all, the face turned | |
three-quarters towards the window and downward, as though reading an | |
invisible book, while the body was sunk deep in an armchair. Billy | |
detached the head and held it in the air. | |
"We put it at different angles, so that it may seem more lifelike. I | |
wouldn't dare touch it if the blind were not down. But when it's up | |
you can see this from across the way." | |
"We used something of the sort once before." | |
"Before my time," said Billy. He drew the window curtains apart and | |
looked out into the street. "There are folk who watch us from over | |
yonder. I can see a fellow now at the window. Have a look for | |
yourself." | |
Watson had taken a step forward when the bedroom door opened, and the | |
long, thin form of Holmes emerged, his face pale and drawn, but his | |
step and bearing as active as ever. With a single spring he was at | |
the window, and had drawn the blind once more. | |
"That will do, Billy," said he. "You were in danger of your life | |
then, my boy, and I can't do without you just yet. Well, Watson, it | |
is good to see you in your old quarters once again. You come at a | |
critical moment." | |
"So I gather." | |
"You can go, Billy. That boy is a problem, Watson. How far am I | |
justified in allowing him to be in danger?" | |
"Danger of what, Holmes?" | |
"Of sudden death. I'm expecting something this evening." | |
"Expecting what?" | |
"To be murdered, Watson." | |
"No, no, you are joking, Holmes!" | |
"Even my limited sense of humour could evolve a better joke than | |
that. But we may be comfortable in the meantime, may we not? Is | |
alcohol permitted? The gasogene and cigars are in the old place. Let | |
me see you once more in the customary armchair. You have not, I hope, | |
learned to despise my pipe and my lamentable tobacco? It has to take | |
the place of food these days." | |
"But why not eat?" | |
"Because the faculties become refined when you starve them. Why, | |
surely, as a doctor, my dear Watson, you must admit that what your | |
digestion gains in the way of blood supply is so much lost to the | |
brain. I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix. | |
Therefore, it is the brain I must consider." | |
"But this danger, Holmes?" | |
"Ah, yes, in case it should come off, it would perhaps be as well | |
that you should burden your memory with the name and address of the | |
murderer. You can give it to Scotland Yard, with my love and a | |
parting blessing. Sylvius is the name--Count Negretto Sylvius. Write | |
it down, man, write it down! 136 Moorside Gardens, N. W. Got it?" | |
Watson's honest face was twitching with anxiety. He knew only too | |
well the immense risks taken by Holmes and was well aware that what | |
he said was more likely to be under-statement than exaggeration. | |
Watson was always the man of action, and he rose to the occasion. | |
"Count me in, Holmes. I have nothing to do for a day or two." | |
"Your morals don't improve, Watson. You have added fibbing to your | |
other vices. You bear every sign of the busy medical man, with calls | |
on him every hour." | |
"Not such important ones. But can't you have this fellow arrested?" | |
"Yes, Watson, I could. That's what worries him so." | |
"But why don't you?" | |
"Because I don't know where the diamond is." | |
"Ah! Billy told me--the missing Crown jewel!" | |
"Yes, the great yellow Mazarin stone. I've cast my net and I have my | |
fish. But I have not got the stone. What is the use of taking them? | |
We can make the world a better place by laying them by the heels. But | |
that is not what I am out for. It's the stone I want." | |
"And is this Count Sylvius one of your fish?" | |
"Yes, and he's a shark. He bites. The other is Sam Merton, the boxer. | |
Not a bad fellow, Sam, but the Count has used him. Sam's not a shark. | |
He is a great big silly bull-headed gudgeon. But he is flopping about | |
in my net all the same." | |
"Where is this Count Sylvius?" | |
"I've been at his very elbow all the morning. You've seen me as an | |
old lady, Watson. I was never more convincing. He actually picked up | |
my parasol for me once. 'By your leave, madame,' said | |
he--half-Italian, you know, and with the Southern graces of manner | |
when in the mood, but a devil incarnate in the other mood. Life is | |
full of whimsical happenings, Watson." | |
"It might have been tragedy." | |
"Well, perhaps it might. I followed him to old Straubenzee's workshop | |
in the Minories. Straubenzee made the air-gun--a very pretty bit of | |
work, as I understand, and I rather fancy it is in the opposite | |
window at the present moment. Have you seen the dummy? Of course, | |
Billy showed it to you. Well, it may get a bullet through its | |
beautiful head at any moment. Ah, Billy, what is it?" | |
The boy had reappeared in the room with a card upon a tray. Holmes | |
glanced at it with raised eyebrows and an amused smile. | |
"The man himself. I had hardly expected this. Grasp the nettle, | |
Watson! A man of nerve. Possibly you have heard of his reputation as | |
a shooter of big game. It would indeed be a triumphant ending to his | |
excellent sporting record if he added me to his bag. This is a proof | |
that he feels my toe very close behind his heel." | |
"Send for the police." | |
"I probably shall. But not just yet. Would you glance carefully out | |
of the window, Watson, and see if anyone is hanging about in the | |
street?" | |
Watson looked warily round the edge of the curtain. | |
"Yes, there is one rough fellow near the door." | |
"That will be Sam Merton--the faithful but rather fatuous Sam. Where | |
is this gentleman, Billy?" | |
"In the waiting-room, sir." | |
"Show him up when I ring." | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"If I am not in the room, show him in all the same." | |
"Yes, sir." | |
Watson waited until the door was closed, and then he turned earnestly | |
to his companion. | |
"Look here, Holmes, this is simply impossible. This is a desperate | |
man, who sticks at nothing. He may have come to murder you." | |
"I should not be surprised." | |
"I insist upon staying with you." | |
"You would be horribly in the way." | |
"In his way?" | |
"No, my dear fellow--in my way." | |
"Well, I can't possibly leave you." | |
"Yes, you can, Watson. And you will, for you have never failed to | |
play the game. I am sure you will play it to the end. This man has | |
come for his own purpose, but he may stay for mine." Holmes took out | |
his notebook and scribbled a few lines. "Take a cab to Scotland Yard | |
and give this to Youghal of the C. I. D. Come back with the police. | |
The fellow's arrest will follow." | |
"I'll do that with joy." | |
"Before you return I may have just time enough to find out where the | |
stone is." He touched the bell. "I think we will go out through the | |
bedroom. This second exit is exceedingly useful. I rather want to see | |
my shark without his seeing me, and I have, as you will remember, my | |
own way of doing it." | |
It was, therefore, an empty room into which Billy, a minute later, | |
ushered Count Sylvius. The famous game-shot, sportsman, and | |
man-about-town was a big, swarthy fellow, with a formidable dark | |
moustache shading a cruel, thin-lipped mouth, and surmounted by a | |
long, curved nose like the beak of an eagle. He was well dressed, but | |
his brilliant necktie, shining pin, and glittering rings were | |
flamboyant in their effect. As the door closed behind him he looked | |
round him with fierce, startled eyes, like one who suspects a trap at | |
every turn. Then he gave a violent start as he saw the impassive head | |
and the collar of the dressing-gown which projected above the | |
armchair in the window. At first his expression was one of pure | |
amazement. Then the light of a horrible hope gleamed in his dark, | |
murderous eyes. He took one more glance round to see that there were | |
no witnesses, and then, on tiptoe, his thick stick half raised, he | |
approached the silent figure. He was crouching for his final spring | |
and blow when a cool, sardonic voice greeted him from the open | |
bedroom door: | |
"Don't break it, Count! Don't break it!" | |
The assassin staggered back, amazement in his convulsed face. For an | |
instant he half raised his loaded cane once more, as if he would turn | |
his violence from the effigy to the original; but there was something | |
in that steady gray eye and mocking smile which caused his hand to | |
sink to his side. | |
"It's a pretty little thing," said Holmes, advancing towards the | |
image. "Tavernier, the French modeller, made it. He is as good at | |
waxworks as your friend Straubenzee is at air-guns." | |
"Air-guns, sir! What do you mean?" | |
"Put your hat and stick on the side-table. Thank you! Pray take a | |
seat. Would you care to put your revolver out also? Oh, very good, if | |
you prefer to sit upon it. Your visit is really most opportune, for I | |
wanted badly to have a few minutes' chat with you." | |
The Count scowled, with heavy, threatening eyebrows. | |
"I, too, wished to have some words with you, Holmes. That is why I am | |
here. I won't deny that I intended to assault you just now." | |
Holmes swung his leg on the edge of the table. | |
"I rather gathered that you had some idea of the sort in your head," | |
said he. "But why these personal attentions?" | |
"Because you have gone out of your way to annoy me. Because you have | |
put your creatures upon my track." | |
"My creatures! I assure you no!" | |
"Nonsense! I have had them followed. Two can play at that game, | |
Holmes." | |
"It is a small point, Count Sylvius, but perhaps you would kindly | |
give me my prefix when you address me. You can understand that, with | |
my routine of work, I should find myself on familiar terms with half | |
the rogues' gallery, and you will agree that exceptions are | |
invidious." | |
"Well, Mr. Holmes, then." | |
"Excellent! But I assure you you are mistaken about my alleged | |
agents." | |
Count Sylvius laughed contemptuously. | |
"Other people can observe as well as you. Yesterday there was an old | |
sporting man. To-day it was an elderly woman. They held me in view | |
all day." | |
"Really, sir, you compliment me. Old Baron Dowson said the night | |
before he was hanged that in my case what the law had gained the | |
stage had lost. And now you give my little impersonations your kindly | |
praise?" | |
"It was you--you yourself?" | |
Holmes shrugged his shoulders. "You can see in the corner the parasol | |
which you so politely handed to me in the Minories before you began | |
to suspect." | |
"If I had known, you might never--" | |
"Have seen this humble home again. I was well aware of it. We all | |
have neglected opportunities to deplore. As it happens, you did not | |
know, so here we are!" | |
The Count's knotted brows gathered more heavily over his menacing | |
eyes. "What you say only makes the matter worse. It was not your | |
agents but your play-acting, busybody self! You admit that you have | |
dogged me. Why?" | |
"Come now, Count. You used to shoot lions in Algeria." | |
"Well?" | |
"But why?" | |
"Why? The sport--the excitement--the danger!" | |
"And, no doubt, to free the country from a pest?" | |
"Exactly!" | |
"My reasons in a nutshell!" | |
The Count sprang to his feet, and his hand involuntarily moved back | |
to his hip-pocket. | |
"Sit down, sir, sit down! There was another, more practical, reason. | |
I want that yellow diamond!" | |
Count Sylvius lay back in his chair with an evil smile. | |
"Upon my word!" said he. | |
"You knew that I was after you for that. The real reason why you are | |
here to-night is to find out how much I know about the matter and how | |
far my removal is absolutely essential. Well, I should say that, from | |
your point of view, it is absolutely essential, for I know all about | |
it, save only one thing, which you are about to tell me." | |
"Oh, indeed! And pray, what is this missing fact?" | |
"Where the Crown diamond now is." | |
The Count looked sharply at his companion. "Oh, you want to know | |
that, do you? How the devil should I be able to tell you where it | |
is?" | |
"You can, and you will." | |
"Indeed!" | |
"You can't bluff me, Count Sylvius." Holmes's eyes, as he gazed at | |
him, contracted and lightened until they were like two menacing | |
points of steel. "You are absolute plate-glass. I see to the very | |
back of your mind." | |
"Then, of course, you see where the diamond is!" | |
Holmes clapped his hands with amusement, and then pointed a derisive | |
finger. "Then you do know. You have admitted it!" | |
"I admit nothing." | |
"Now, Count, if you will be reasonable we can do business. If not, | |
you will get hurt." | |
Count Sylvius threw up his eyes to the ceiling. "And you talk about | |
bluff!" said he. | |
Holmes looked at him thoughtfully like a master chess-player who | |
meditates his crowning move. Then he threw open the table drawer and | |
drew out a squat notebook. | |
"Do you know what I keep in this book?" | |
"No, sir, I do not!" | |
"You!" | |
"Me!" | |
"Yes, sir, you! You are all here--every action of your vile and | |
dangerous life." | |
"Damn you, Holmes!" cried the Count with blazing eyes. "There are | |
limits to my patience!" | |
"It's all here, Count. The real facts as to the death of old Mrs. | |
Harold, who left you the Blymer estate, which you so rapidly gambled | |
away." | |
"You are dreaming!" | |
"And the complete life history of Miss Minnie Warrender." | |
"Tut! You will make nothing of that!" | |
"Plenty more here, Count. Here is the robbery in the train de-luxe to | |
the Riviera on February 13, 1892. Here is the forged check in the | |
same year on the Credit Lyonnais." | |
"No; you're wrong there." | |
"Then I am right on the others! Now, Count, you are a card-player. | |
When the other fellow has all the trumps, it saves time to throw down | |
your hand." | |
"What has all this talk to do with the jewel of which you spoke?" | |
"Gently, Count. Restrain that eager mind! Let me get to the points in | |
my own humdrum fashion. I have all this against you; but, above all, | |
I have a clear case against both you and your fighting bully in the | |
case of the Crown diamond." | |
"Indeed!" | |
"I have the cabman who took you to Whitehall and the cabman who | |
brought you away. I have the commissionaire who saw you near the | |
case. I have Ikey Sanders, who refused to cut it up for you. Ikey has | |
peached, and the game is up." | |
The veins stood out on the Count's forehead. His dark, hairy hands | |
were clenched in a convulsion of restrained emotion. He tried to | |
speak, but the words would not shape themselves. | |
"That's the hand I play from," said Holmes. "I put it all upon the | |
table. But one card is missing. It's the king of diamonds. I don't | |
know where the stone is." | |
"You never shall know." | |
"No? Now, be reasonable, Count. Consider the situation. You are going | |
to be locked up for twenty years. So is Sam Merton. What good are you | |
going to get out of your diamond? None in the world. But if you hand | |
it over--well, I'll compound a felony. We don't want you or Sam. We | |
want the stone. Give that up, and so far as I am concerned you can go | |
free so long as you behave yourself in the future. If you make | |
another slip--well, it will be the last. But this time my commission | |
is to get the stone, not you." | |
"But if I refuse?" | |
"Why, then--alas!--it must be you and not the stone." | |
Billy had appeared in answer to a ring. | |
"I think, Count, that it would be as well to have your friend Sam at | |
this conference. After all, his interests should be represented. | |
Billy, you will see a large and ugly gentleman outside the front | |
door. Ask him to come up." | |
"If he won't come, sir?" | |
"No violence, Billy. Don't be rough with him. If you tell him that | |
Count Sylvius wants him he will certainly come." | |
"What are you going to do now?" asked the Count as Billy disappeared. | |
"My friend Watson was with me just now. I told him that I had a shark | |
and a gudgeon in my net; now I am drawing the net and up they come | |
together." | |
The Count had risen from his chair, and his hand was behind his back. | |
Holmes held something half protruding from the pocket of his | |
dressing-gown. | |
"You won't die in your bed, Holmes." | |
"I have often had the same idea. Does it matter very much? After all, | |
Count, your own exit is more likely to be perpendicular than | |
horizontal. But these anticipations of the future are morbid. Why not | |
give ourselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of the present?" | |
A sudden wild-beast light sprang up in the dark, menacing eyes of the | |
master criminal. Holmes's figure seemed to grow taller as he grew | |
tense and ready. | |
"It is no use your fingering your revolver, my friend," he said in a | |
quiet voice. "You know perfectly well that you dare not use it, even | |
if I gave you time to draw it. Nasty, noisy things, revolvers, Count. | |
Better stick to air-guns. Ah! I think I hear the fairy footstep of | |
your estimable partner. Good day, Mr. Merton. Rather dull in the | |
street, is it not?" | |
The prize-fighter, a heavily built young man with a stupid, | |
obstinate, slab-sided face, stood awkwardly at the door, looking | |
about him with a puzzled expression. Holmes's debonair manner was a | |
new experience, and though he vaguely felt that it was hostile, he | |
did not know how to counter it. He turned to his more astute comrade | |
for help. | |
"What's the game now, Count? What's this fellow want? What's up?" His | |
voice was deep and raucous. | |
The Count shrugged his shoulders, and it was Holmes who answered. | |
"If I may put it in a nutshell, Mr. Merton, I should say it was all | |
up." | |
The boxer still addressed his remarks to his associate. | |
"Is this cove trying to be funny, or what? I'm not in the funny mood | |
myself." | |
"No, I expect not," said Holmes. "I think I can promise you that you | |
will feel even less humorous as the evening advances. Now, look here, | |
Count Sylvius. I'm a busy man and I can't waste time. I'm going into | |
that bedroom. Pray make yourselves quite at home in my absence. You | |
can explain to your friend how the matter lies without the restraint | |
of my presence. I shall try over the Hoffman 'Barcarole' upon my | |
violin. In five minutes I shall return for your final answer. You | |
quite grasp the alternative, do you not? Shall we take you, or shall | |
we have the stone?" | |
Holmes withdrew, picking up his violin from the corner as he passed. | |
A few moments later the long-drawn, wailing notes of that most | |
haunting of tunes came faintly through the closed door of the | |
bedroom. | |
"What is it, then?" asked Merton anxiously as his companion turned to | |
him. "Does he know about the stone?" | |
"He knows a damned sight too much about it. I'm not sure that he | |
doesn't know all about it." | |
"Good Lord!" The boxer's sallow face turned a shade whiter. | |
"Ikey Sanders has split on us." | |
"He has, has he? I'll do him down a thick 'un for that if I swing for | |
it." | |
"That won't help us much. We've got to make up our minds what to do." | |
"Half a mo'," said the boxer, looking suspiciously at the bedroom | |
door. "He's a leary cove that wants watching. I suppose he's not | |
listening?" | |
"How can he be listening with that music going?" | |
"That's right. Maybe somebody's behind a curtain. Too many curtains | |
in this room." As he looked round he suddenly saw for the first time | |
the effigy in the window, and stood staring and pointing, too amazed | |
for words. | |
"Tut! it's only a dummy," said the Count. | |
"A fake, is it? Well, strike me! Madame Tussaud ain't in it. It's the | |
living spit of him, gown and all. But them curtains, Count!" | |
"Oh, confound the curtains! We are wasting our time, and there is | |
none too much. He can lag us over this stone." | |
"The deuce he can!" | |
"But he'll let us slip if we only tell him where the swag is." | |
"What! Give it up? Give up a hundred thousand quid?" | |
"It's one or the other." | |
Merton scratched his short-cropped pate. | |
"He's alone in there. Let's do him in. If his light were out we | |
should have nothing to fear." | |
The Count shook his head. | |
"He is armed and ready. If we shot him we could hardly get away in a | |
place like this. Besides, it's likely enough that the police know | |
whatever evidence he has got. Hallo! What was that?" | |
There was a vague sound which seemed to come from the window. Both | |
men sprang round, but all was quiet. Save for the one strange figure | |
seated in the chair, the room was certainly empty. | |
"Something in the street," said Merton. "Now look here, guv'nor, | |
you've got the brains. Surely you can think a way out of it. If | |
slugging is no use then it's up to you." | |
"I've fooled better men than he," the Count answered. "The stone is | |
here in my secret pocket. I take no chances leaving it about. It can | |
be out of England to-night and cut into four pieces in Amsterdam | |
before Sunday. He knows nothing of Van Seddar." | |
"I thought Van Seddar was going next week." | |
"He was. But now he must get off by the next boat. One or other of us | |
must slip round with the stone to Lime Street and tell him." | |
"But the false bottom ain't ready." | |
"Well, he must take it as it is and chance it. There's not a moment | |
to lose." Again, with the sense of danger which becomes an instinct | |
with the sportsman, he paused and looked hard at the window. Yes, it | |
was surely from the street that the faint sound had come. | |
"As to Holmes," he continued, "we can fool him easily enough. You | |
see, the damned fool won't arrest us if he can get the stone. Well, | |
we'll promise him the stone. We'll put him on the wrong track about | |
it, and before he finds that it is the wrong track it will be in | |
Holland and we out of the country." | |
"That sounds good to me!" cried Sam Merton with a grin. | |
"You go on and tell the Dutchman to get a move on him. I'll see this | |
sucker and fill him up with a bogus confession. I'll tell him that | |
the stone is in Liverpool. Confound that whining music; it gets on my | |
nerves! By the time he finds it isn't in Liverpool it will be in | |
quarters and we on the blue water. Come back here, out of a line with | |
that keyhole. Here is the stone." | |
"I wonder you dare carry it." | |
"Where could I have it safer? If we could take it out of Whitehall | |
someone else could surely take it out of my lodgings." | |
"Let's have a look at it." | |
Count Sylvius cast a somewhat unflattering glance at his associate | |
and disregarded the unwashed hand which was extended towards him. | |
"What--d'ye think I'm going to snatch it off you? See here, mister, | |
I'm getting a bit tired of your ways." | |
"Well, well, no offence, Sam. We can't afford to quarrel. Come over | |
to the window if you want to see the beauty properly. Now hold it to | |
the light! Here!" | |
"Thank you!" | |
With a single spring Holmes had leaped from the dummy's chair and had | |
grasped the precious jewel. He held it now in one hand, while his | |
other pointed a revolver at the Count's head. The two villains | |
staggered back in utter amazement. Before they had recovered Holmes | |
had pressed the electric bell. | |
"No violence, gentlemen--no violence, I beg of you! Consider the | |
furniture! It must be very clear to you that your position is an | |
impossible one. The police are waiting below." | |
The Count's bewilderment overmastered his rage and fear. | |
"But how the deuce--?" he gasped. | |
"Your surprise is very natural. You are not aware that a second door | |
from my bedroom leads behind that curtain. I fancied that you must | |
have heard me when I displaced the figure, but luck was on my side. | |
It gave me a chance of listening to your racy conversation which | |
would have been painfully constrained had you been aware of my | |
presence." | |
The Count gave a gesture of resignation. | |
"We give you best, Holmes. I believe you are the devil himself." | |
"Not far from him, at any rate," Holmes answered with a polite smile. | |
Sam Merton's slow intellect had only gradually appreciated the | |
situation. Now, as the sound of heavy steps came from the stairs | |
outside, he broke silence at last. | |
"A fair cop!" said he. "But, I say, what about that bloomin' fiddle! | |
I hear it yet." | |
"Tut, tut!" Holmes answered. "You are perfectly right. Let it play! | |
These modern gramophones are a remarkable invention." | |
There was an inrush of police, the handcuffs clicked and the | |
criminals were led to the waiting cab. Watson lingered with Holmes, | |
congratulating him upon this fresh leaf added to his laurels. Once | |
more their conversation was interrupted by the imperturbable Billy | |
with his card-tray. | |
"Lord Cantlemere, sir." | |
"Show him up, Billy. This is the eminent peer who represents the very | |
highest interests," said Holmes. "He is an excellent and loyal | |
person, but rather of the old regime. Shall we make him unbend? Dare | |
we venture upon a slight liberty? He knows, we may conjecture, | |
nothing of what has occurred." | |
The door opened to admit a thin, austere figure with a hatchet face | |
and drooping mid-Victorian whiskers of a glossy blackness which | |
hardly corresponded with the rounded shoulders and feeble gait. | |
Holmes advanced affably, and shook an unresponsive hand. | |
"How do you do, Lord Cantlemere? It is chilly for the time of year, | |
but rather warm indoors. May I take your overcoat?" | |
"No, I thank you; I will not take it off." | |
Holmes laid his hand insistently upon the sleeve. | |
"Pray allow me! My friend Dr. Watson would assure you that these | |
changes of temperature are most insidious." | |
His Lordship shook himself free with some impatience. | |
"I am quite comfortable, sir. I have no need to stay. I have simply | |
looked in to know how your self-appointed task was progressing." | |
"It is difficult--very difficult." | |
"I feared that you would find it so." | |
There was a distinct sneer in the old courtier's words and manner. | |
"Every man finds his limitations, Mr. Holmes, but at least it cures | |
us of the weakness of self-satisfaction." | |
"Yes, sir, I have been much perplexed." | |
"No doubt." | |
"Especially upon one point. Possibly you could help me upon it?" | |
"You apply for my advice rather late in the day. I thought that you | |
had your own all-sufficient methods. Still, I am ready to help you." | |
"You see, Lord Cantlemere, we can no doubt frame a case against the | |
actual thieves." | |
"When you have caught them." | |
"Exactly. But the question is--how shall we proceed against the | |
receiver?" | |
"Is this not rather premature?" | |
"It is as well to have our plans ready. Now, what would you regard as | |
final evidence against the receiver?" | |
"The actual possession of the stone." | |
"You would arrest him upon that?" | |
"Most undoubtedly." | |
Holmes seldom laughed, but he got as near it as his old friend Watson | |
could remember. | |
"In that case, my dear sir, I shall be under the painful necessity of | |
advising your arrest." | |
Lord Cantlemere was very angry. Some of the ancient fires flickered | |
up into his sallow cheeks. | |
"You take a great liberty, Mr. Holmes. In fifty years of official | |
life I cannot recall such a case. I am a busy man, sir, engaged upon | |
important affairs, and I have no time or taste for foolish jokes. I | |
may tell you frankly, sir, that I have never been a believer in your | |
powers, and that I have always been of the opinion that the matter | |
was far safer in the hands of the regular police force. Your conduct | |
confirms all my conclusions. I have the honour, sir, to wish you | |
good-evening." | |
Holmes had swiftly changed his position and was between the peer and | |
the door. | |
"One moment, sir," said he. "To actually go off with the Mazarin | |
stone would be a more serious offence than to be found in temporary | |
possession of it." | |
"Sir, this is intolerable! Let me pass." | |
"Put your hand in the right-hand pocket of your overcoat." | |
"What do you mean, sir?" | |
"Come--come, do what I ask." | |
An instant later the amazed peer was standing, blinking and | |
stammering, with the great yellow stone on his shaking palm. | |
"What! What! How is this, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Too bad, Lord Cantlemere, too bad!" cried Holmes. "My old friend | |
here will tell you that I have an impish habit of practical joking. | |
Also that I can never resist a dramatic situation. I took the | |
liberty--the very great liberty, I admit--of putting the stone into | |
your pocket at the beginning of our interview." | |
The old peer stared from the stone to the smiling face before him. | |
"Sir, I am bewildered. But--yes--it is indeed the Mazarin stone. We | |
are greatly your debtors, Mr. Holmes. Your sense of humour may, as | |
you admit, be somewhat perverted, and its exhibition remarkably | |
untimely, but at least I withdraw any reflection I have made upon | |
your amazing professional powers. But how--" | |
"The case is but half finished; the details can wait. No doubt, Lord | |
Cantlemere, your pleasure in telling of this successful result in the | |
exalted circle to which you return will be some small atonement for | |
my practical joke. Billy, you will show his Lordship out, and tell | |
Mrs. Hudson that I should be glad if she would send up dinner for two | |
as soon as possible." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE GABLES | |
I don't think that any of my adventures with Mr. Sherlock Holmes | |
opened quite so abruptly, or so dramatically, as that which I | |
associate with The Three Gables. I had not seen Holmes for some days | |
and had no idea of the new channel into which his activities had been | |
directed. He was in a chatty mood that morning, however, and had just | |
settled me into the well-worn low armchair on one side of the fire, | |
while he had curled down with his pipe in his mouth upon the opposite | |
chair, when our visitor arrived. If I had said that a mad bull had | |
arrived it would give a clearer impression of what occurred. | |
The door had flown open and a huge negro had burst into the room. He | |
would have been a comic figure if he had not been terrific, for he | |
was dressed in a very loud gray check suit with a flowing | |
salmon-coloured tie. His broad face and flattened nose were thrust | |
forward, as his sullen dark eyes, with a smouldering gleam of malice | |
in them, turned from one of us to the other. | |
"Which of you gen'l'men is Masser Holmes?" he asked. | |
Holmes raised his pipe with a languid smile. | |
"Oh! it's you, is it?" said our visitor, coming with an unpleasant, | |
stealthy step round the angle of the table. "See here, Masser Holmes, | |
you keep your hands out of other folks' business. Leave folks to | |
manage their own affairs. Got that, Masser Holmes?" | |
"Keep on talking," said Holmes. "It's fine." | |
"Oh! it's fine, is it?" growled the savage. "It won't be so damn fine | |
if I have to trim you up a bit. I've handled your kind before now, | |
and they didn't look fine when I was through with them. Look at that, | |
Masser Holmes!" | |
He swung a huge knotted lump of a fist under my friend's nose. Holmes | |
examined it closely with an air of great interest. "Were you born | |
so?" he asked. "Or did it come by degrees?" | |
It may have been the icy coolness of my friend, or it may have been | |
the slight clatter which I made as I picked up the poker. In any | |
case, our visitor's manner became less flamboyant. | |
"Well, I've given you fair warnin'," said he. "I've a friend that's | |
interested out Harrow way--you know what I'm meaning--and he don't | |
intend to have no buttin' in by you. Got that? You ain't the law, and | |
I ain't the law either, and if you come in I'll be on hand also. | |
Don't you forget it." | |
"I've wanted to meet you for some time," said Holmes. "I won't ask | |
you to sit down, for I don't like the smell of you, but aren't you | |
Steve Dixie, the bruiser?" | |
"That's my name, Masser Holmes, and you'll get put through it for | |
sure if you give me any lip." | |
"It is certainly the last thing you need," said Holmes, staring at | |
our visitor's hideous mouth. "But it was the killing of young Perkins | |
outside the Holborn Bar-- What! you're not going?" | |
The negro had sprung back, and his face was leaden. "I won't listen | |
to no such talk," said he. "What have I to do with this 'ere Perkins, | |
Masser Holmes? I was trainin' at the Bull Ring in Birmingham when | |
this boy done gone get into trouble." | |
"Yes, you'll tell the magistrate about it, Steve," said Holmes. "I've | |
been watching you and Barney Stockdale--" | |
"So help me the Lord! Masser Holmes--" | |
"That's enough. Get out of it. I'll pick you up when I want you." | |
"Good-mornin', Masser Holmes. I hope there ain't no hard feelin's | |
about this 'ere visit?" | |
"There will be unless you tell me who sent you." | |
"Why, there ain't no secret about that, Masser Holmes. It was that | |
same gen'l'man that you have just done gone mention." | |
"And who set him on to it?" | |
"S'elp me. I don't know, Masser Holmes. He just say, 'Steve, you go | |
see Mr. Holmes, and tell him his life ain't safe if he go down Harrow | |
way.' That's the whole truth." Without waiting for any further | |
questioning, our visitor bolted out of the room almost as | |
precipitately as he had entered. Holmes knocked out the ashes of his | |
pipe with a quiet chuckle. | |
"I am glad you were not forced to break his woolly head, Watson. I | |
observed your manoeuvres with the poker. But he is really rather a | |
harmless fellow, a great muscular, foolish, blustering baby, and | |
easily cowed, as you have seen. He is one of the Spencer John gang | |
and has taken part in some dirty work of late which I may clear up | |
when I have time. His immediate principal, Barney, is a more astute | |
person. They specialize in assaults, intimidation, and the like. What | |
I want to know is, who is at the back of them on this particular | |
occasion?" | |
"But why do they want to intimidate you?" | |
"It is this Harrow Weald case. It decides me to look into the matter, | |
for if it is worth anyone's while to take so much trouble, there must | |
be something in it." | |
"But what is it?" | |
"I was going to tell you when we had this comic interlude. Here is | |
Mrs. Maberley's note. If you care to come with me we will wire her | |
and go out at once." | |
Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes [I read]: | |
I have had a succession of strange incidents occur to me in | |
connection with this house, and I should much value your advice. You | |
would find me at home any time to-morrow. The house is within a short | |
walk of the Weald Station. I believe that my late husband, Mortimer | |
Maberley, was one of your early clients. | |
Yours faithfully, | |
Mary Maberley | |
The address was "The Three Gables, Harrow Weald." | |
"So that's that!" said Holmes. "And now, if you can spare the time, | |
Watson, we will get upon our way." | |
A short railway journey, and a shorter drive, brought us to the | |
house, a brick and timber villa, standing in its own acre of | |
undeveloped grassland. Three small projections above the upper | |
windows made a feeble attempt to justify its name. Behind was a grove | |
of melancholy, half-grown pines, and the whole aspect of the place | |
was poor and depressing. None the less, we found the house to be well | |
furnished, and the lady who received us was a most engaging elderly | |
person, who bore every mark of refinement and culture. | |
"I remember your husband well, madam," said Holmes, "though it is | |
some years since he used my services in some trifling matter." | |
"Probably you would be more familiar with the name of my son | |
Douglas." | |
Holmes looked at her with great interest. | |
"Dear me! Are you the mother of Douglas Maberley? I knew him | |
slightly. But of course all London knew him. What a magnificent | |
creature he was! Where is he now?" | |
"Dead, Mr. Holmes, dead! He was attache at Rome, and he died there of | |
pneumonia last month." | |
"I am sorry. One could not connect death with such a man. I have | |
never known anyone so vitally alive. He lived intensely--every fibre | |
of him!" | |
"Too intensely, Mr. Holmes. That was the ruin of him. You remember | |
him as he was--debonair and splendid. You did not see the moody, | |
morose, brooding creature into which he developed. His heart was | |
broken. In a single month I seemed to see my gallant boy turn into a | |
worn-out cynical man." | |
"A love affair--a woman?" | |
"Or a fiend. Well, it was not to talk of my poor lad that I asked you | |
to come, Mr. Holmes." | |
"Dr. Watson and I are at your service." | |
"There have been some very strange happenings. I have been in this | |
house more than a year now, and as I wished to lead a retired life I | |
have seen little of my neighbours. Three days ago I had a call from a | |
man who said that he was a house agent. He said that this house would | |
exactly suit a client of his, and that if I would part with it money | |
would be no object. It seemed to me very strange as there are several | |
empty houses on the market which appear to be equally eligible, but | |
naturally I was interested in what he said. I therefore named a price | |
which was five hundred pounds more than I gave. He at once closed | |
with the offer, but added that his client desired to buy the | |
furniture as well and would I put a price upon it. Some of this | |
furniture is from my old home, and it is, as you see, very good, so | |
that I named a good round sum. To this also he at once agreed. I had | |
always wanted to travel, and the bargain was so good a one that it | |
really seemed that I should be my own mistress for the rest of my | |
life. | |
"Yesterday the man arrived with the agreement all drawn out. Luckily | |
I showed it to Mr. Sutro, my lawyer, who lives in Harrow. He said to | |
me, 'This is a very strange document. Are you aware that if you sign | |
it you could not legally take anything out of the house--not even | |
your own private possessions?' When the man came again in the evening | |
I pointed this out, and I said that I meant only to sell the | |
furniture. | |
"'No, no, everything,' said he. | |
"'But my clothes? My jewels?' | |
"'Well, well, some concession might be made for your personal | |
effects. But nothing shall go out of the house unchecked. My client | |
is a very liberal man, but he has his fads and his own way of doing | |
things. It is everything or nothing with him.' | |
"'Then it must be nothing,' said I. And there the matter was left, | |
but the whole thing seemed to me to be so unusual that I thought--" | |
Here we had a very extraordinary interruption. | |
Holmes raised his hand for silence. Then he strode across the room, | |
flung open the door, and dragged in a great gaunt woman whom he had | |
seized by the shoulder. She entered with ungainly struggle like some | |
huge awkward chicken, torn, squawking, out of its coop. | |
"Leave me alone! What are you a-doin' of?" she screeched. | |
"Why, Susan, what is this?" | |
"Well, ma'am, I was comin' in to ask if the visitors was stayin' for | |
lunch when this man jumped out at me." | |
"I have been listening to her for the last five minutes, but did not | |
wish to interrupt your most interesting narrative. Just a little | |
wheezy, Susan, are you not? You breathe too heavily for that kind of | |
work." | |
Susan turned a sulky but amazed face upon her captor. "Who be you, | |
anyhow, and what right have you a-pullin' me about like this?" | |
"It was merely that I wished to ask a question in your presence. Did | |
you, Mrs. Maberley, mention to anyone that you were going to write to | |
me and consult me?" | |
"No, Mr. Holmes, I did not." | |
"Who posted your letter?" | |
"Susan did." | |
"Exactly. Now, Susan, to whom was it that you wrote or sent a message | |
to say that your mistress was asking advice from me?" | |
"It's a lie. I sent no message." | |
"Now, Susan, wheezy people may not live long, you know. It's a wicked | |
thing to tell fibs. Whom did you tell?" | |
"Susan!" cried her mistress, "I believe you are a bad, treacherous | |
woman. I remember now that I saw you speaking to someone over the | |
hedge." | |
"That was my own business," said the woman sullenly. | |
"Suppose I tell you that it was Barney Stockdale to whom you spoke?" | |
said Holmes. | |
"Well, if you know, what do you want to ask for?" | |
"I was not sure, but I know now. Well now, Susan, it will be worth | |
ten pounds to you if you will tell me who is at the back of Barney." | |
"Someone that could lay down a thousand pounds for every ten you have | |
in the world." | |
"So, a rich man? No; you smiled--a rich woman. Now we have got so | |
far, you may as well give the name and earn the tenner." | |
"I'll see you in hell first." | |
"Oh, Susan! Language!" | |
"I am clearing out of here. I've had enough of you all. I'll send for | |
my box to-morrow." She flounced for the door. | |
"Good-bye, Susan. Paregoric is the stuff... Now," he continued, | |
turning suddenly from lively to severe when the door had closed | |
behind the flushed and angry woman, "this gang means business. Look | |
how close they play the game. Your letter to me had the 10 P. M. | |
postmark. And yet Susan passes the word to Barney. Barney has time to | |
go to his employer and get instructions; he or she--I incline to the | |
latter from Susan's grin when she thought I had blundered--forms a | |
plan. Black Steve is called in, and I am warned off by eleven o'clock | |
next morning. That's quick work, you know." | |
"But what do they want?" | |
"Yes, that's the question. Who had the house before you?" | |
"A retired sea captain called Ferguson." | |
"Anything remarkable about him?" | |
"Not that ever I heard of." | |
"I was wondering whether he could have buried something. Of course, | |
when people bury treasure nowadays they do it in the Post-Office | |
bank. But there are always some lunatics about. It would be a dull | |
world without them. At first I thought of some buried valuable. But | |
why, in that case, should they want your furniture? You don't happen | |
to have a Raphael or a first folio Shakespeare without knowing it?" | |
"No, I don't think I have anything rarer than a Crown Derby tea-set." | |
"That would hardly justify all this mystery. Besides, why should they | |
not openly state what they want? If they covet your tea-set, they can | |
surely offer a price for it without buying you out, lock, stock, and | |
barrel. No, as I read it, there is something which you do not know | |
that you have, and which you would not give up if you did know." | |
"That is how I read it," said I. | |
"Dr. Watson agrees, so that settles it." | |
"Well, Mr. Holmes, what can it be?" | |
"Let us see whether by this purely mental analysis we can get it to a | |
finer point. You have been in this house a year." | |
"Nearly two." | |
"All the better. During this long period no one wants anything from | |
you. Now suddenly within three or four days you have urgent demands. | |
What would you gather from that?" | |
"It can only mean," said I, "that the object, whatever it may be, has | |
only just come into the house." | |
"Settled once again," said Holmes. "Now, Mrs. Maberley, has any | |
object just arrived?" | |
"No, I have bought nothing new this year." | |
"Indeed! That is very remarkable. Well, I think we had best let | |
matters develop a little further until we have clearer data. Is that | |
lawyer of yours a capable man?" | |
"Mr. Sutro is most capable." | |
"Have you another maid, or was the fair Susan, who has just banged | |
your front door, alone?" | |
"I have a young girl." | |
"Try and get Sutro to spend a night or two in the house. You might | |
possibly want protection." | |
"Against whom?" | |
"Who knows? The matter is certainly obscure. If I can't find what | |
they are after, I must approach the matter from the other end and try | |
to get at the principal. Did this house-agent man give any address?" | |
"Simply his card and occupation. Haines-Johnson, Auctioneer and | |
Valuer." | |
"I don't think we shall find him in the directory. Honest business | |
men don't conceal their place of business. Well, you will let me know | |
any fresh development. I have taken up your case, and you may rely | |
upon it that I shall see it through." | |
As we passed through the hall Holmes's eyes, which missed nothing, | |
lighted upon several trunks and cases which were piled in a corner. | |
The labels shone out upon them. | |
"'Milano.' 'Lucerne.' These are from Italy." | |
"They are poor Douglas's things." | |
"You have not unpacked them? How long have you had them?" | |
"They arrived last week." | |
"But you said--why, surely this might be the missing link. How do we | |
know that there is not something of value there?" | |
"There could not possibly be, Mr. Holmes. Poor Douglas had only his | |
pay and a small annuity. What could he have of value?" | |
Holmes was lost in thought. | |
"Delay no longer, Mrs. Maberley," he said at last. "Have these things | |
taken upstairs to your bedroom. Examine them as soon as possible and | |
see what they contain. I will come to-morrow and hear your report." | |
It was quite evident that The Three Gables was under very close | |
surveillance, for as we came round the high hedge at the end of the | |
lane there was the negro prize-fighter standing in the shadow. We | |
came on him quite suddenly, and a grim and menacing figure he looked | |
in that lonely place. Holmes clapped his hand to his pocket. | |
"Lookin' for your gun, Masser Holmes?" | |
"No, for my scent-bottle, Steve." | |
"You are funny, Masser Holmes, ain't you?" | |
"It won't be funny for you, Steve, if I get after you. I gave you | |
fair warning this morning." | |
"Well, Masser Holmes, I done gone think over what you said, and I | |
don't want no more talk about that affair of Masser Perkins. S'pose I | |
can help you, Masser Holmes, I will." | |
"Well, then, tell me who is behind you on this job." | |
"So help me the Lord! Masser Holmes, I told you the truth before. I | |
don't know. My boss Barney gives me orders and that's all." | |
"Well, just bear in mind, Steve, that the lady in that house, and | |
everything under that roof, is under my protection. Don't forget it." | |
"All right, Masser Holmes. I'll remember." | |
"I've got him thoroughly frightened for his own skin, Watson," Holmes | |
remarked as we walked on. "I think he would double-cross his employer | |
if he knew who he was. It was lucky I had some knowledge of the | |
Spencer John crowd, and that Steve was one of them. Now, Watson, this | |
is a case for Langdale Pike, and I am going to see him now. When I | |
get back I may be clearer in the matter." | |
I saw no more of Holmes during the day, but I could well imagine how | |
he spent it, for Langdale Pike was his human book of reference upon | |
all matters of social scandal. This strange, languid creature spent | |
his waking hours in the bow window of a St. James's Street club and | |
was the receiving-station as well as the transmitter for all the | |
gossip of the metropolis. He made, it was said, a four-figure income | |
by the paragraphs which he contributed every week to the garbage | |
papers which cater to an inquisitive public. If ever, far down in the | |
turbid depths of London life, there was some strange swirl or eddy, | |
it was marked with automatic exactness by this human dial upon the | |
surface. Holmes discreetly helped Langdale to knowledge, and on | |
occasion was helped in turn. | |
When I met my friend in his room early next morning, I was conscious | |
from his bearing that all was well, but none the less a most | |
unpleasant surprise was awaiting us. It took the shape of the | |
following telegram: | |
Please come out at once. Client's house burgled in the night. Police | |
in possession. | |
Sutro. | |
Holmes whistled. "The drama has come to a crisis, and quicker than I | |
had expected. There is a great driving-power at the back of this | |
business, Watson, which does not surprise me after what I have heard. | |
This Sutro, of course, is her lawyer. I made a mistake, I fear, in | |
not asking you to spend the night on guard. This fellow has clearly | |
proved a broken reed. Well, there is nothing for it but another | |
journey to Harrow Weald." | |
We found The Three Gables a very different establishment to the | |
orderly household of the previous day. A small group of idlers had | |
assembled at the garden gate, while a couple of constables were | |
examining the windows and the geranium beds. Within we met a gray old | |
gentleman, who introduced himself as the lawyer, together with a | |
bustling, rubicund inspector, who greeted Holmes as an old friend. | |
"Well, Mr. Holmes, no chance for you in this case, I'm afraid. Just a | |
common, ordinary burglary, and well within the capacity of the poor | |
old police. No experts need apply." | |
"I am sure the case is in very good hands," said Holmes. "Merely a | |
common burglary, you say?" | |
"Quite so. We know pretty well who the men are and where to find | |
them. It is that gang of Barney Stockdale, with the big nigger in | |
it--they've been seen about here." | |
"Excellent! What did they get?" | |
"Well, they don't seem to have got much. Mrs. Maberley was | |
chloroformed and the house was-- Ah! here is the lady herself." | |
Our friend of yesterday, looking very pale and ill, had entered the | |
room, leaning upon a little maidservant. | |
"You gave me good advice, Mr. Holmes," said she, smiling ruefully. | |
"Alas, I did not take it! I did not wish to trouble Mr. Sutro, and so | |
I was unprotected." | |
"I only heard of it this morning," the lawyer explained. | |
"Mr. Holmes advised me to have some friend in the house. I neglected | |
his advice, and I have paid for it." | |
"You look wretchedly ill," said Holmes. "Perhaps you are hardly equal | |
to telling me what occurred." | |
"It is all here," said the inspector, tapping a bulky notebook. | |
"Still, if the lady is not too exhausted--" | |
"There is really so little to tell. I have no doubt that wicked Susan | |
had planned an entrance for them. They must have known the house to | |
an inch. I was conscious for a moment of the chloroform rag which was | |
thrust over my mouth, but I have no notion how long I may have been | |
senseless. When I woke, one man was at the bedside and another was | |
rising with a bundle in his hand from among my son's baggage, which | |
was partially opened and littered over the floor. Before he could get | |
away I sprang up and seized him." | |
"You took a big risk," said the inspector. | |
"I clung to him, but he shook me off, and the other may have struck | |
me, for I can remember no more. Mary the maid heard the noise and | |
began screaming out of the window. That brought the police, but the | |
rascals had got away." | |
"What did they take?" | |
"Well, I don't think there is anything of value missing. I am sure | |
there was nothing in my son's trunks." | |
"Did the men leave no clue?" | |
"There was one sheet of paper which I may have torn from the man that | |
I grasped. It was lying all crumpled on the floor. It is in my son's | |
handwriting." | |
"Which means that it is not of much use," said the inspector. "Now if | |
it had been in the burglar's--" | |
"Exactly," said Holmes. "What rugged common sense! None the less, I | |
should be curious to see it." | |
The inspector drew a folded sheet of foolscap from his pocketbook. | |
"I never pass anything, however trifling," said he with some | |
pomposity. "That is my advice to you, Mr. Holmes. In twenty-five | |
years' experience I have learned my lesson. There is always the | |
chance of finger-marks or something." | |
Holmes inspected the sheet of paper. | |
"What do you make of it, Inspector?" | |
"Seems to be the end of some queer novel, so far as I can see." | |
"It may certainly prove to be the end of a queer tale," said Holmes. | |
"You have noticed the number on the top of the page. It is two | |
hundred and forty-five. Where are the odd two hundred and forty-four | |
pages?" | |
"Well, I suppose the burglars got those. Much good may it do them!" | |
"It seems a queer thing to break into a house in order to steal such | |
papers as that. Does it suggest anything to you, Inspector?" | |
"Yes, sir, it suggests that in their hurry the rascals just grabbed | |
at what came first to hand. I wish them joy of what they got." | |
"Why should they go to my son's things?" asked Mrs. Maberley. | |
"Well, they found nothing valuable downstairs, so they tried their | |
luck upstairs. That is how I read it. What do you make of it, Mr. | |
Holmes?" | |
"I must think it over, Inspector. Come to the window, Watson." Then, | |
as we stood together, he read over the fragment of paper. It began in | |
the middle of a sentence and ran like this: | |
"... face bled considerably from the cuts and blows, but it was | |
nothing to the bleeding of his heart as he saw that lovely face, the | |
face for which he had been prepared to sacrifice his very life, | |
looking out at his agony and humiliation. She smiled--yes, by Heaven! | |
she smiled, like the heartless fiend she was, as he looked up at her. | |
It was at that moment that love died and hate was born. Man must live | |
for something. If it is not for your embrace, my lady, then it shall | |
surely be for your undoing and my complete revenge." | |
"Queer grammar!" said Holmes with a smile as he handed the paper back | |
to the inspector. "Did you notice how the 'he' suddenly changed to | |
'my'? The writer was so carried away by his own story that he | |
imagined himself at the supreme moment to be the hero." | |
"It seemed mighty poor stuff," said the inspector as he replaced it | |
in his book. "What! are you off, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"I don't think there is anything more for me to do now that the case | |
is in such capable hands. By the way, Mrs. Maberley, did you say you | |
wished to travel?" | |
"It has always been my dream, Mr. Holmes." | |
"Where would you like to go--Cairo, Madeira, the Riviera?" | |
"Oh, if I had the money I would go round the world." | |
"Quite so. Round the world. Well, good-morning. I may drop you a line | |
in the evening." As we passed the window I caught a glimpse of the | |
inspector's smile and shake of the head. "These clever fellows have | |
always a touch of madness." That was what I read in the inspector's | |
smile. | |
"Now, Watson, we are at the last lap of our little journey," said | |
Holmes when we were back in the roar of central London once more. "I | |
think we had best clear the matter up at once, and it would be well | |
that you should come with me, for it is safer to have a witness when | |
you are dealing with such a lady as Isadora Klein." | |
We had taken a cab and were speeding to some address in Grosvenor | |
Square. Holmes had been sunk in thought, but he roused himself | |
suddenly. | |
"By the way, Watson, I suppose you see it all clearly?" | |
"No, I can't say that I do. I only gather that we are going to see | |
the lady who is behind all this mischief." | |
"Exactly! But does the name Isadora Klein convey nothing to you? She | |
was, of course, the celebrated beauty. There was never a woman to | |
touch her. She is pure Spanish, the real blood of the masterful | |
Conquistadors, and her people have been leaders in Pernambuco for | |
generations. She married the aged German sugar king, Klein, and | |
presently found herself the richest as well as the most lovely widow | |
upon earth. Then there was an interval of adventure when she pleased | |
her own tastes. She had several lovers, and Douglas Maberley, one of | |
the most striking men in London, was one of them. It was by all | |
accounts more than an adventure with him. He was not a society | |
butterfly but a strong, proud man who gave and expected all. But she | |
is the 'belle dame sans merci' of fiction. When her caprice is | |
satisfied the matter is ended, and if the other party in the matter | |
can't take her word for it she knows how to bring it home to him." | |
"Then that was his own story--" | |
"Ah! you are piecing it together now. I hear that she is about to | |
marry the young Duke of Lomond, who might almost be her son. His | |
Grace's ma might overlook the age, but a big scandal would be a | |
different matter, so it is imperative-- Ah! here we are." | |
It was one of the finest corner-houses of the West End. A | |
machine-like footman took up our cards and returned with word that | |
the lady was not at home. "Then we shall wait until she is," said | |
Holmes cheerfully. | |
The machine broke down. | |
"Not at home means not at home to you," said the footman. | |
"Good," Holmes answered. "That means that we shall not have to wait. | |
Kindly give this note to your mistress." | |
He scribbled three or four words upon a sheet of his notebook, folded | |
it, and handed it to the man. | |
"What did you say, Holmes?" I asked. | |
"I simply wrote: 'Shall it be the police, then?' I think that should | |
pass us in." | |
It did--with amazing celerity. A minute later we were in an Arabian | |
Nights drawing-room, vast and wonderful, in a half gloom, picked out | |
with an occasional pink electric light. The lady had come, I felt, to | |
that time of life when even the proudest beauty finds the half light | |
more welcome. She rose from a settee as we entered: tall, queenly, a | |
perfect figure, a lovely mask-like face, with two wonderful Spanish | |
eyes which looked murder at us both. | |
"What is this intrusion--and this insulting message?" she asked, | |
holding up the slip of paper. | |
"I need not explain, madame. I have too much respect for your | |
intelligence to do so--though I confess that intelligence has been | |
surprisingly at fault of late." | |
"How so, sir?" | |
"By supposing that your hired bullies could frighten me from my work. | |
Surely no man would take up my profession if it were not that danger | |
attracts him. It was you, then, who forced me to examine the case of | |
young Maberley." | |
"I have no idea what you are talking about. What have I to do with | |
hired bullies?" | |
Holmes turned away wearily. | |
"Yes, I have underrated your intelligence. Well, good-afternoon!" | |
"Stop! Where are you going?" | |
"To Scotland Yard." | |
We had not got halfway to the door before she had overtaken us and | |
was holding his arm. She had turned in a moment from steel to velvet. | |
"Come and sit down, gentlemen. Let us talk this matter over. I feel | |
that I may be frank with you, Mr. Holmes. You have the feelings of a | |
gentleman. How quick a woman's instinct is to find it out. I will | |
treat you as a friend." | |
"I cannot promise to reciprocate, madame. I am not the law, but I | |
represent justice so far as my feeble powers go. I am ready to | |
listen, and then I will tell you how I will act." | |
"No doubt it was foolish of me to threaten a brave man like | |
yourself." | |
"What was really foolish, madame, is that you have placed yourself in | |
the power of a band of rascals who may blackmail or give you away." | |
"No, no! I am not so simple. Since I have promised to be frank, I may | |
say that no one, save Barney Stockdale and Susan, his wife, have the | |
least idea who their employer is. As to them, well, it is not the | |
first--" She smiled and nodded with a charming coquettish intimacy. | |
"I see. You've tested them before." | |
"They are good hounds who run silent." | |
"Such hounds have a way sooner or later of biting the hand that feeds | |
them. They will be arrested for this burglary. The police are already | |
after them." | |
"They will take what comes to them. That is what they are paid for. I | |
shall not appear in the matter." | |
"Unless I bring you into it." | |
"No, no, you would not. You are a gentleman. It is a woman's secret." | |
"In the first place, you must give back this manuscript." | |
She broke into a ripple of laughter and walked to the fireplace. | |
There was a calcined mass which she broke up with the poker. "Shall I | |
give this back?" she asked. So roguish and exquisite did she look as | |
she stood before us with a challenging smile that I felt of all | |
Holmes's criminals this was the one whom he would find it hardest to | |
face. However, he was immune from sentiment. | |
"That seals your fate," he said coldly. "You are very prompt in your | |
actions, madame, but you have overdone it on this occasion." | |
She threw the poker down with a clatter. | |
"How hard you are!" she cried. "May I tell you the whole story?" | |
"I fancy I could tell it to you." | |
"But you must look at it with my eyes, Mr. Holmes. You must realize | |
it from the point of view of a woman who sees all her life's ambition | |
about to be ruined at the last moment. Is such a woman to be blamed | |
if she protects herself?" | |
"The original sin was yours." | |
"Yes, yes! I admit it. He was a dear boy, Douglas, but it so chanced | |
that he could not fit into my plans. He wanted marriage--marriage, | |
Mr. Holmes--with a penniless commoner. Nothing less would serve him. | |
Then he became pertinacious. Because I had given he seemed to think | |
that I still must give, and to him only. It was intolerable. At last | |
I had to make him realize it." | |
"By hiring ruffians to beat him under your own window." | |
"You do indeed seem to know everything. Well, it is true. Barney and | |
the boys drove him away, and were, I admit, a little rough in doing | |
so. But what did he do then? Could I have believed that a gentleman | |
would do such an act? He wrote a book in which he described his own | |
story. I, of course, was the wolf; he the lamb. It was all there, | |
under different names, of course; but who in all London would have | |
failed to recognize it? What do you say to that, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Well, he was within his rights." | |
"It was as if the air of Italy had got into his blood and brought | |
with it the old cruel Italian spirit. He wrote to me and sent me a | |
copy of his book that I might have the torture of anticipation. There | |
were two copies, he said--one for me, one for his publisher." | |
"How did you know the publisher's had not reached him?" | |
"I knew who his publisher was. It is not his only novel, you know. I | |
found out that he had not heard from Italy. Then came Douglas's | |
sudden death. So long as that other manuscript was in the world there | |
was no safety for me. Of course, it must be among his effects, and | |
these would be returned to his mother. I set the gang at work. One of | |
them got into the house as servant. I wanted to do the thing | |
honestly. I really and truly did. I was ready to buy the house and | |
everything in it. I offered any price she cared to ask. I only tried | |
the other way when everything else had failed. Now, Mr. Holmes, | |
granting that I was too hard on Douglas--and, God knows, I am sorry | |
for it!--what else could I do with my whole future at stake?" | |
Sherlock Holmes shrugged his shoulders. | |
"Well, well," said he, "I suppose I shall have to compound a felony | |
as usual. How much does it cost to go round the world in first-class | |
style?" | |
The lady stared in amazement. | |
"Could it be done on five thousand pounds?" | |
"Well, I should think so, indeed!" | |
"Very good. I think you will sign me a check for that, and I will see | |
that it comes to Mrs. Maberley. You owe her a little change of air. | |
Meantime, lady"--he wagged a cautionary forefinger--"have a care! | |
Have a care! You can't play with edged tools forever without cutting | |
those dainty hands." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SUSSEX VAMPIRE | |
Holmes had read carefully a note which the last post had brought him. | |
Then, with the dry chuckle which was his nearest approach to a | |
laugh, he tossed it over to me. | |
"For a mixture of the modern and the mediaeval, of the practical and | |
of the wildly fanciful, I think this is surely the limit," said he. | |
"What do you make of it, Watson?" | |
I read as follows: | |
46, Old Jewry, | |
Nov. 19th. | |
Re Vampires | |
Sir: | |
Our client, Mr. Robert Ferguson, of Ferguson and Muirhead, tea | |
brokers, of Mincing Lane, has made some inquiry from us in a | |
communication of even date concerning vampires. As our firm | |
specializes entirely upon the assessment of machinery the matter | |
hardly comes within our purview, and we have therefore recommended | |
Mr. Ferguson to call upon you and lay the matter before you. We have | |
not forgotten your successful action in the case of Matilda Briggs. | |
We are, sir, | |
Faithfully yours, | |
Morrison, Morrison, and Dodd. | |
per E. J. C. | |
"Matilda Briggs was not the name of a young woman, Watson," said | |
Holmes in a reminiscent voice. "It was a ship which is associated | |
with the giant rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet | |
prepared. But what do we know about vampires? Does it come within our | |
purview either? Anything is better than stagnation, but really we | |
seem to have been switched on to a Grimms' fairy tale. Make a long | |
arm, Watson, and see what V has to say." | |
I leaned back and took down the great index volume to which he | |
referred. Holmes balanced it on his knee, and his eyes moved slowly | |
and lovingly over the record of old cases, mixed with the accumulated | |
information of a lifetime. | |
"Voyage of the Gloria Scott," he read. "That was a bad business. I | |
have some recollection that you made a record of it, Watson, though I | |
was unable to congratulate you upon the result. Victor Lynch, the | |
forger. Venomous lizard or gila. Remarkable case, that! Vittoria, | |
the circus belle. Vanderbilt and the Yeggman. Vipers. Vigor, the | |
Hammersmith wonder. Hullo! Hullo! Good old index. You can't beat it. | |
Listen to this, Watson. Vampirism in Hungary. And again, Vampires in | |
Transylvania." He turned over the pages with eagerness, but after a | |
short intent perusal he threw down the great book with a snarl of | |
disappointment. | |
"Rubbish, Watson, rubbish! What have we to do with walking corpses | |
who can only be held in their grave by stakes driven through their | |
hearts? It's pure lunacy." | |
"But surely," said I, "the vampire was not necessarily a dead man? A | |
living person might have the habit. I have read, for example, of the | |
old sucking the blood of the young in order to retain their youth." | |
"You are right, Watson. It mentions the legend in one of these | |
references. But are we to give serious attention to such things? This | |
agency stands flat-footed upon the ground, and there it must remain. | |
The world is big enough for us. No ghosts need apply. I fear that we | |
cannot take Mr. Robert Ferguson very seriously. Possibly this note | |
may be from him and may throw some light upon what is worrying him." | |
He took up a second letter which had lain unnoticed upon the table | |
while he had been absorbed with the first. This he began to read with | |
a smile of amusement upon his face which gradually faded away into an | |
expression of intense interest and concentration. When he had | |
finished he sat for some little time lost in thought with the letter | |
dangling from his fingers. Finally, with a start, he aroused himself | |
from his reverie. | |
"Cheeseman's, Lamberley. Where is Lamberley, Watson?" | |
"It is in Sussex, south of Horsham." | |
"Not very far, eh? And Cheeseman's?" | |
"I know that country, Holmes. It is full of old houses which are | |
named after the men who built them centuries ago. You get Odley's and | |
Harvey's and Carriton's--the folk are forgotten but their names live | |
in their houses. | |
"Precisely," said Holmes coldly. It was one of the peculiarities of | |
his proud, self-contained nature that though he docketed any fresh | |
information very quietly and accurately in his brain, he seldom made | |
any acknowledgment to the giver. "I rather fancy we shall know a good | |
deal more about Cheeseman's, Lamberley, before we are through. The | |
letter is, as I had hoped, from Robert Ferguson. By the way, he | |
claims acquaintance with you." | |
"With me!" | |
"You had better read it." | |
He handed the letter across. It was headed with the address quoted. | |
Dear Mr. Holmes [it said]: | |
I have been recommended to you by my lawyers, but indeed the matter | |
is so extraordinarily delicate that it is most difficult to discuss. | |
It concerns a friend for whom I am acting. This gentleman married | |
some five years ago a Peruvian lady, the daughter of a Peruvian | |
merchant, whom he had met in connection with the importation of | |
nitrates. The lady was very beautiful, but the fact of her foreign | |
birth and of her alien religion always caused a separation of | |
interests and of feelings between husband and wife, so that after a | |
time his love may have cooled towards her and he may have come to | |
regard their union as a mistake. He felt there were sides of her | |
character which he could never explore or understand. This was the | |
more painful as she was as loving a wife as a man could have--to all | |
appearance absolutely devoted. | |
Now for the point which I will make more plain when we meet. Indeed, | |
this note is merely to give you a general idea of the situation and | |
to ascertain whether you would care to interest yourself in the | |
matter. The lady began to show some curious traits quite alien to her | |
ordinarily sweet and gentle disposition. The gentleman had been | |
married twice and he had one son by the first wife. This boy was now | |
fifteen, a very charming and affectionate youth, though unhappily | |
injured through an accident in childhood. Twice the wife was caught | |
in the act of assaulting this poor lad in the most unprovoked way. | |
Once she struck him with a stick and left a great weal on his arm. | |
This was a small matter, however, compared with her conduct to her | |
own child, a dear boy just under one year of age. On one occasion | |
about a month ago this child had been left by its nurse for a few | |
minutes. A loud cry from the baby, as of pain, called the nurse back. | |
As she ran into the room she saw her employer, the lady, leaning over | |
the baby and apparently biting his neck. There was a small wound in | |
the neck from which a stream of blood had escaped. The nurse was so | |
horrified that she wished to call the husband, but the lady implored | |
her not to do so and actually gave her five pounds as a price for her | |
silence. No explanation was ever given, and for the moment the matter | |
was passed over. | |
It left, however, a terrible impression upon the nurse's mind, and | |
from that time she began to watch her mistress closely and to keep a | |
closer guard upon the baby, whom she tenderly loved. It seemed to her | |
that even as she watched the mother, so the mother watched her, and | |
that every time she was compelled to leave the baby alone the mother | |
was waiting to get at it. Day and night the nurse covered the child, | |
and day and night the silent, watchful mother seemed to be lying in | |
wait as a wolf waits for a lamb. It must read most incredible to you, | |
and yet I beg you to take it seriously, for a child's life and a | |
man's sanity may depend upon it. | |
At last there came one dreadful day when the facts could no longer be | |
concealed from the husband. The nurse's nerve had given way; she | |
could stand the strain no longer, and she made a clean breast of it | |
all to the man. To him it seemed as wild a tale as it may now seem to | |
you. He knew his wife to be a loving wife, and, save for the assaults | |
upon her stepson, a loving mother. Why, then, should she wound her | |
own dear little baby? He told the nurse that she was dreaming, that | |
her suspicions were those of a lunatic, and that such libels upon her | |
mistress were not to be tolerated. While they were talking a sudden | |
cry of pain was heard. Nurse and master rushed together to the | |
nursery. Imagine his feelings, Mr. Holmes, as he saw his wife rise | |
from a kneeling position beside the cot and saw blood upon the | |
child's exposed neck and upon the sheet. With a cry of horror, he | |
turned his wife's face to the light and saw blood all round her lips. | |
It was she--she beyond all question--who had drunk the poor baby's | |
blood. | |
So the matter stands. She is now confined to her room. There has been | |
no explanation. The husband is half demented. He knows, and I know, | |
little of vampirism beyond the name. We had thought it was some wild | |
tale of foreign parts. And yet here in the very heart of the English | |
Sussex--well, all this can be discussed with you in the morning. Will | |
you see me? Will you use your great powers in aiding a distracted | |
man? If so, kindly wire to Ferguson, Cheeseman's, Lamberley, and I | |
will be at your rooms by ten o'clock. | |
Yours faithfully, | |
Robert Ferguson. | |
P. S. I believe your friend Watson played Rugby for Blackheath when I | |
was three-quarter for Richmond. It is the only personal introduction | |
which I can give. | |
"Of course I remembered him," said I as I laid down the letter. "Big | |
Bob Ferguson, the finest three-quarter Richmond ever had. He was | |
always a good-natured chap. It's like him to be so concerned over a | |
friend's case." | |
Holmes looked at me thoughtfully and shook his head. | |
"I never get your limits, Watson," said he. "There are unexplored | |
possibilities about you. Take a wire down, like a good fellow. 'Will | |
examine your case with pleasure.'" | |
"Your case!" | |
"We must not let him think that this agency is a home for the | |
weak-minded. Of course it is his case. Send him that wire and let the | |
matter rest till morning." | |
Promptly at ten o'clock next morning Ferguson strode into our room. I | |
had remembered him as a long, slab-sided man with loose limbs and a | |
fine turn of speed which had carried him round many an opposing back. | |
There is surely nothing in life more painful than to meet the wreck | |
of a fine athlete whom one has known in his prime. His great frame | |
had fallen in, his flaxen hair was scanty, and his shoulders were | |
bowed. I fear that I roused corresponding emotions in him. | |
"Hullo, Watson," said he, and his voice was still deep and hearty. | |
"You don't look quite the man you did when I threw you over the ropes | |
into the crowd at the Old Deer Park. I expect I have changed a bit | |
also. But it's this last day or two that has aged me. I see by your | |
telegram, Mr. Holmes, that it is no use my pretending to be anyone's | |
deputy." | |
"It is simpler to deal direct," said Holmes. | |
"Of course it is. But you can imagine how difficult it is when you | |
are speaking of the one woman whom you are bound to protect and help. | |
What can I do? How am I to go to the police with such a story? And | |
yet the kiddies have got to be protected. Is it madness, Mr. Holmes? | |
Is it something in the blood? Have you any similar case in your | |
experience? For God's sake, give me some advice, for I am at my wit's | |
end." | |
"Very naturally, Mr. Ferguson. Now sit here and pull yourself | |
together and give me a few clear answers. I can assure you that I am | |
very far from being at my wit's end, and that I am confident we shall | |
find some solution. First of all, tell me what steps you have taken. | |
Is your wife still near the children?" | |
"We had a dreadful scene. She is a most loving woman, Mr. Holmes. If | |
ever a woman loved a man with all her heart and soul, she loves me. | |
She was cut to the heart that I should have discovered this horrible, | |
this incredible, secret. She would not even speak. She gave no answer | |
to my reproaches, save to gaze at me with a sort of wild, despairing | |
look in her eyes. Then she rushed to her room and locked herself in. | |
Since then she has refused to see me. She has a maid who was with her | |
before her marriage, Dolores by name--a friend rather than a servant. | |
She takes her food to her." | |
"Then the child is in no immediate danger?" | |
"Mrs. Mason, the nurse, has sworn that she will not leave it night or | |
day. I can absolutely trust her. I am more uneasy about poor little | |
Jack, for, as I told you in my note, he has twice been assaulted by | |
her." | |
"But never wounded?" | |
"No, she struck him savagely. It is the more terrible as he is a poor | |
little inoffensive cripple." Ferguson's gaunt features softened as he | |
spoke of his boy. "You would think that the dear lad's condition | |
would soften anyone's heart. A fall in childhood and a twisted spine, | |
Mr. Holmes. But the dearest, most loving heart within." | |
Holmes had picked up the letter of yesterday and was reading it over. | |
"What other inmates are there in your house, Mr. Ferguson?" | |
"Two servants who have not been long with us. One stable-hand, | |
Michael, who sleeps in the house. My wife, myself, my boy Jack, baby, | |
Dolores, and Mrs. Mason. That is all." | |
"I gather that you did not know your wife well at the time of your | |
marriage?" | |
"I had only known her a few weeks." | |
"How long had this maid Dolores been with her?" | |
"Some years." | |
"Then your wife's character would really be better known by Dolores | |
than by you?" | |
"Yes, you may say so." | |
Holmes made a note. | |
"I fancy," said he, "that I may be of more use at Lamberley than | |
here. It is eminently a case for personal investigation. If the lady | |
remains in her room, our presence could not annoy or inconvenience | |
her. Of course, we would stay at the inn." | |
Ferguson gave a gesture of relief. | |
"It is what I hoped, Mr. Holmes. There is an excellent train at two | |
from Victoria if you could come." | |
"Of course we could come. There is a lull at present. I can give you | |
my undivided energies. Watson, of course, comes with us. But there | |
are one or two points upon which I wish to be very sure before I | |
start. This unhappy lady, as I understand it, has appeared to assault | |
both the children, her own baby and your little son?" | |
"That is so." | |
"But the assaults take different forms, do they not? She has beaten | |
your son." | |
"Once with a stick and once very savagely with her hands." | |
"Did she give no explanation why she struck him?" | |
"None save that she hated him. Again and again she said so." | |
"Well, that is not unknown among stepmothers. A posthumous jealousy, | |
we will say. Is the lady jealous by nature?" | |
"Yes, she is very jealous--jealous with all the strength of her fiery | |
tropical love." | |
"But the boy--he is fifteen, I understand, and probably very | |
developed in mind, since his body has been circumscribed in action. | |
Did he give you no explanation of these assaults?" | |
"No, he declared there was no reason." | |
"Were they good friends at other times?" | |
"No, there was never any love between them." | |
"Yet you say he is affectionate?" | |
"Never in the world could there be so devoted a son. My life is his | |
life. He is absorbed in what I say or do." | |
Once again Holmes made a note. For some time he sat lost in thought. | |
"No doubt you and the boy were great comrades before this second | |
marriage. You were thrown very close together, were you not?" | |
"Very much so." | |
"And the boy, having so affectionate a nature, was devoted, no doubt, | |
to the memory of his mother?" | |
"Most devoted." | |
"He would certainly seem to be a most interesting lad. There is one | |
other point about these assaults. Were the strange attacks upon the | |
baby and the assaults upon your son at the same period?" | |
"In the first case it was so. It was as if some frenzy had seized | |
her, and she had vented her rage upon both. In the second case it was | |
only Jack who suffered. Mrs. Mason had no complaint to make about the | |
baby." | |
"That certainly complicates matters." | |
"I don't quite follow you, Mr. Holmes." | |
"Possibly not. One forms provisional theories and waits for time or | |
fuller knowledge to explode them. A bad habit, Mr. Ferguson, but | |
human nature is weak. I fear that your old friend here has given an | |
exaggerated view of my scientific methods. However, I will only say | |
at the present stage that your problem does not appear to me to be | |
insoluble, and that you may expect to find us at Victoria at two | |
o'clock." | |
It was evening of a dull, foggy November day when, having left our | |
bags at the Chequers, Lamberley, we drove through the Sussex clay of | |
a long winding lane and finally reached the isolated and ancient | |
farmhouse in which Ferguson dwelt. It was a large, straggling | |
building, very old in the centre, very new at the wings with towering | |
Tudor chimneys and a lichen-spotted, high-pitched roof of Horsham | |
slabs. The doorsteps were worn into curves, and the ancient tiles | |
which lined the porch were marked with the rebus of a cheese and a | |
man after the original builder. Within, the ceilings were corrugated | |
with heavy oaken beams, and the uneven floors sagged into sharp | |
curves. An odour of age and decay pervaded the whole crumbling | |
building. | |
There was one very large central room into which Ferguson led us. | |
Here, in a huge old-fashioned fireplace with an iron screen behind it | |
dated 1670, there blazed and spluttered a splendid log fire. | |
The room, as I gazed round, was a most singular mixture of dates and | |
of places. The half-panelled walls may well have belonged to the | |
original yeoman farmer of the seventeenth century. They were | |
ornamented, however, on the lower part by a line of well-chosen | |
modern water-colours; while above, where yellow plaster took the | |
place of oak, there was hung a fine collection of South American | |
utensils and weapons, which had been brought, no doubt, by the | |
Peruvian lady upstairs. Holmes rose, with that quick curiosity which | |
sprang from his eager mind, and examined them with some care. He | |
returned with his eyes full of thought. | |
"Hullo!" he cried. "Hullo!" | |
A spaniel had lain in a basket in the corner. It came slowly forward | |
towards its master, walking with difficulty. Its hind legs moved | |
irregularly and its tail was on the ground. It licked Ferguson's | |
hand. | |
"What is it, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"The dog. What's the matter with it?" | |
"That's what puzzled the vet. A sort of paralysis. Spinal | |
meningitis, he thought. But it is passing. He'll be all right | |
soon--won't you, Carlo?" | |
A shiver of assent passed through the drooping tail. The dog's | |
mournful eyes passed from one of us to the other. He knew that we | |
were discussing his case. | |
"Did it come on suddenly?" | |
"In a single night." | |
"How long ago?" | |
"It may have been four months ago." | |
"Very remarkable. Very suggestive." | |
"What do you see in it, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"A confirmation of what I had already thought." | |
"For God's sake, what do you think, Mr. Holmes? It may be a mere | |
intellectual puzzle to you, but it is life and death to me! My wife a | |
would-be murderer--my child in constant danger! Don't play with me, | |
Mr. Holmes. It is too terribly serious." | |
The big Rugby three-quarter was trembling all over. Holmes put his | |
hand soothingly upon his arm. | |
"I fear that there is pain for you, Mr. Ferguson, whatever the | |
solution may be," said he. "I would spare you all I can. I cannot say | |
more for the instant, but before I leave this house I hope I may have | |
something definite." | |
"Please God you may! If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I will go up | |
to my wife's room and see if there has been any change." | |
He was away some minutes, during which Holmes resumed his examination | |
of the curiosities upon the wall. When our host returned it was clear | |
from his downcast face that he had made no progress. He brought with | |
him a tall, slim, brown-faced girl. | |
"The tea is ready, Dolores," said Ferguson. "See that your mistress | |
has everything she can wish." | |
"She verra ill," cried the girl, looking with indignant eyes at her | |
master. "She no ask for food. She verra ill. She need doctor. I | |
frightened stay alone with her without doctor." | |
Ferguson looked at me with a question in his eyes. | |
"I should be so glad if I could be of use." | |
"Would your mistress see Dr. Watson?" | |
"I take him. I no ask leave. She needs doctor." | |
"Then I'll come with you at once." | |
I followed the girl, who was quivering with strong emotion, up the | |
staircase and down an ancient corridor. At the end was an | |
iron-clamped and massive door. It struck me as I looked at it that if | |
Ferguson tried to force his way to his wife he would find it no easy | |
matter. The girl drew a key from her pocket, and the heavy oaken | |
planks creaked upon their old hinges. I passed in and she swiftly | |
followed, fastening the door behind her. | |
On the bed a woman was lying who was clearly in a high fever. She | |
was only half conscious, but as I entered she raised a pair of | |
frightened but beautiful eyes and glared at me in apprehension. | |
Seeing a stranger, she appeared to be relieved and sank back with a | |
sigh upon the pillow. I stepped up to her with a few reassuring | |
words, and she lay still while I took her pulse and temperature. Both | |
were high, and yet my impression was that the condition was rather | |
that of mental and nervous excitement than of any actual seizure. | |
"She lie like that one day, two day. I 'fraid she die," said the | |
girl. | |
The woman turned her flushed and handsome face towards me. | |
"Where is my husband?" | |
"He is below and would wish to see you." | |
"I will not see him. I will not see him." Then she seemed to wander | |
off into delirium. "A fiend! A fiend! Oh, what shall I do with this | |
devil?" | |
"Can I help you in any way?" | |
"No. No one can help. It is finished. All is destroyed. Do what I | |
will, all is destroyed." | |
The woman must have some strange delusion. I could not see honest Bob | |
Ferguson in the character of fiend or devil. | |
"Madame," I said, "your husband loves you dearly. He is deeply | |
grieved at this happening." | |
Again she turned on me those glorious eyes. | |
"He loves me. Yes. But do I not love him? Do I not love him even to | |
sacrifice myself rather than break his dear heart? That is how I love | |
him. And yet he could think of me--he could speak of me so." | |
"He is full of grief, but he cannot understand." | |
"No, he cannot understand. But he should trust." | |
"Will you not see him?" I suggested. | |
"No, no, I cannot forget those terrible words nor the look upon his | |
face. I will not see him. Go now. You can do nothing for me. Tell him | |
only one thing. I want my child. I have a right to my child. That is | |
the only message I can send him." She turned her face to the wall and | |
would say no more. | |
I returned to the room downstairs, where Ferguson and Holmes still | |
sat by the fire. Ferguson listened moodily to my account of the | |
interview. | |
"How can I send her the child?" he said. "How do I know what strange | |
impulse might come upon her? How can I ever forget how she rose from | |
beside it with its blood upon her lips?" He shuddered at the | |
recollection. "The child is safe with Mrs. Mason, and there he must | |
remain." | |
A smart maid, the only modern thing which we had seen in the house, | |
had brought in some tea. As she was serving it the door opened and a | |
youth entered the room. He was a remarkable lad, pale-faced and | |
fair-haired, with excitable light blue eyes which blazed into a | |
sudden flame of emotion and joy as they rested upon his father. He | |
rushed forward and threw his arms round his neck with the abandon of | |
a loving girl. | |
"Oh, daddy," he cried, "I did not know that you were due yet. I | |
should have been here to meet you. Oh, I am so glad to see you!" | |
Ferguson gently disengaged himself from the embrace with some little | |
show of embarrassment. | |
"Dear old chap," said he, patting the flaxen head with a very tender | |
hand. "I came early because my friends, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, | |
have been persuaded to come down and spend an evening with us." | |
"Is that Mr. Holmes, the detective?" | |
"Yes." | |
The youth looked at us with a very penetrating and, as it seemed to | |
me, unfriendly gaze. | |
"What about your other child, Mr. Ferguson?" asked Holmes. "Might we | |
make the acquaintance of the baby?" | |
"Ask Mrs. Mason to bring baby down," said Ferguson. The boy went off | |
with a curious, shambling gait which told my surgical eyes that he | |
was suffering from a weak spine. Presently he returned, and behind | |
him came a tall, gaunt woman bearing in her arms a very beautiful | |
child, dark-eyed, golden-haired, a wonderful mixture of the Saxon and | |
the Latin. Ferguson was evidently devoted to it, for he took it into | |
his arms and fondled it most tenderly. | |
"Fancy anyone having the heart to hurt him," he muttered as he | |
glanced down at the small, angry red pucker upon the cherub throat. | |
It was at this moment that I chanced to glance at Holmes and saw a | |
most singular intentness in his expression. His face was as set as if | |
it had been carved out of old ivory, and his eyes, which had glanced | |
for a moment at father and child, were now fixed with eager curiosity | |
upon something at the other side of the room. Following his gaze I | |
could only guess that he was looking out through the window at the | |
melancholy, dripping garden. It is true that a shutter had half | |
closed outside and obstructed the view, but none the less it was | |
certainly at the window that Holmes was fixing his concentrated | |
attention. Then he smiled, and his eyes came back to the baby. On its | |
chubby neck there was this small puckered mark. Without speaking, | |
Holmes examined it with care. Finally he shook one of the dimpled | |
fists which waved in front of him. | |
"Good-bye, little man. You have made a strange start in life. Nurse, | |
I should wish to have a word with you in private." | |
He took her aside and spoke earnestly for a few minutes. I only heard | |
the last words, which were: "Your anxiety will soon, I hope, be set | |
at rest." The woman, who seemed to be a sour, silent kind of | |
creature, withdrew with the child. | |
"What is Mrs. Mason like?" asked Holmes. | |
"Not very prepossessing externally, as you can see, but a heart of | |
gold, and devoted to the child." | |
"Do you like her, Jack?" Holmes turned suddenly upon the boy. His | |
expressive mobile face shadowed over, and he shook his head. | |
"Jacky has very strong likes and dislikes," said Ferguson, putting | |
his arm round the boy. "Luckily I am one of his likes." | |
The boy cooed and nestled his head upon his father's breast. Ferguson | |
gently disengaged him. | |
"Run away, little Jacky," said he, and he watched his son with loving | |
eyes until he disappeared. "Now, Mr. Holmes," he continued when the | |
boy was gone, "I really feel that I have brought you on a fool's | |
errand, for what can you possibly do save give me your sympathy? It | |
must be an exceedingly delicate and complex affair from your point of | |
view." | |
"It is certainly delicate," said my friend with an amused smile, "but | |
I have not been struck up to now with its complexity. It has been a | |
case for intellectual deduction, but when this original intellectual | |
deduction is confirmed point by point by quite a number of | |
independent incidents, then the subjective becomes objective and we | |
can say confidently that we have reached our goal. I had, in fact, | |
reached it before we left Baker Street, and the rest has merely been | |
observation and confirmation." | |
Ferguson put his big hand to his furrowed forehead. | |
"For heaven's sake, Holmes," he said hoarsely; "if you can see the | |
truth in this matter, do not keep me in suspense. How do I stand? | |
What shall I do? I care nothing as to how you have found your facts | |
so long as you have really got them." | |
"Certainly I owe you an explanation, and you shall have it. But you | |
will permit me to handle the matter in my own way? Is the lady | |
capable of seeing us, Watson?" | |
"She is ill, but she is quite rational." | |
"Very good. It is only in her presence that we can clear the matter | |
up. Let us go up to her." | |
"She will not see me," cried Ferguson. | |
"Oh, yes, she will," said Holmes. He scribbled a few lines upon a | |
sheet of paper. "You at least have the entree, Watson. Will you have | |
the goodness to give the lady this note?" | |
I ascended again and handed the note to Dolores, who cautiously | |
opened the door. A minute later I heard a cry from within, a cry in | |
which joy and surprise seemed to be blended. Dolores looked out. | |
"She will see them. She will leesten," said she. | |
At my summons Ferguson and Holmes came up. As we entered the room | |
Ferguson took a step or two towards his wife, who had raised herself | |
in the bed, but she held out her hand to repulse him. He sank into an | |
armchair, while Holmes seated himself beside him, after bowing to the | |
lady, who looked at him with wide-eyed amazement. | |
"I think we can dispense with Dolores," said Holmes. "Oh, very well, | |
madame, if you would rather she stayed I can see no objection. Now, | |
Mr. Ferguson, I am a busy man with many calls, and my methods have to | |
be short and direct. The swiftest surgery is the least painful. Let | |
me first say what will ease your mind. Your wife is a very good, a | |
very loving, and a very ill-used woman." | |
Ferguson sat up with a cry of joy. | |
"Prove that, Mr. Holmes, and I am your debtor forever." | |
"I will do so, but in doing so I must wound you deeply in another | |
direction." | |
"I care nothing so long as you clear my wife. Everything on earth is | |
insignificant compared to that." | |
"Let me tell you, then, the train of reasoning which passed through | |
my mind in Baker Street. The idea of a vampire was to me absurd. Such | |
things do not happen in criminal practice in England. And yet your | |
observation was precise. You had seen the lady rise from beside the | |
child's cot with the blood upon her lips." | |
"I did." | |
"Did it not occur to you that a bleeding wound may be sucked for some | |
other purpose than to draw the blood from it? Was there not a queen | |
in English history who sucked such a wound to draw poison from it?" | |
"Poison!" | |
"A South American household. My instinct felt the presence of those | |
weapons upon the wall before my eyes ever saw them. It might have | |
been other poison, but that was what occurred to me. When I saw that | |
little empty quiver beside the small bird-bow, it was just what I | |
expected to see. If the child were pricked with one of those arrows | |
dipped in curare or some other devilish drug, it would mean death if | |
the venom were not sucked out. | |
"And the dog! If one were to use such a poison, would one not try it | |
first in order to see that it had not lost its power? I did not | |
foresee the dog, but at least I understand him and he fitted into my | |
reconstruction. | |
"Now do you understand? Your wife feared such an attack. She saw it | |
made and saved the child's life, and yet she shrank from telling you | |
all the truth, for she knew how you loved the boy and feared lest it | |
break your heart." | |
"Jacky!" | |
"I watched him as you fondled the child just now. His face was | |
clearly reflected in the glass of the window where the shutter formed | |
a background. I saw such jealousy, such cruel hatred, as I have | |
seldom seen in a human face." | |
"My Jacky!" | |
"You have to face it, Mr. Ferguson. It is the more painful because it | |
is a distorted love, a maniacal exaggerated love for you, and | |
possibly for his dead mother, which has prompted his action. His very | |
soul is consumed with hatred for this splendid child, whose health | |
and beauty are a contrast to his own weakness." | |
"Good God! It is incredible!" | |
"Have I spoken the truth, madame?" | |
The lady was sobbing, with her face buried in the pillows. Now she | |
turned to her husband. | |
"How could I tell you, Bob? I felt the blow it would be to you. It | |
was better that I should wait and that it should come from some other | |
lips than mine. When this gentleman, who seems to have powers of | |
magic, wrote that he knew all, I was glad." | |
"I think a year at sea would be my prescription for Master Jacky," | |
said Holmes, rising from his chair. "Only one thing is still clouded, | |
madame. We can quite understand your attacks upon Master Jacky. There | |
is a limit to a mother's patience. But how did you dare to leave the | |
child these last two days?" | |
"I had told Mrs. Mason. She knew." | |
"Exactly. So I imagined." | |
Ferguson was standing by the bed, choking, his hands outstretched and | |
quivering. | |
"This, I fancy, is the time for our exit, Watson," said Holmes in a | |
whisper. "If you will take one elbow of the too faithful Dolores, I | |
will take the other. There, now," he added as he closed the door | |
behind him, "I think we may leave them to settle the rest among | |
themselves." | |
I have only one further note of this case. It is the letter which | |
Holmes wrote in final answer to that with which the narrative begins. | |
It ran thus: | |
Baker Street, | |
Nov. 21st. | |
Re Vampires | |
Sir: | |
Referring to your letter of the 19th, I beg to state that I have | |
looked into the inquiry of your client, Mr. Robert Ferguson, of | |
Ferguson and Muirhead, tea brokers, of Mincing Lane, and that the | |
matter has been brought to a satisfactory conclusion. With thanks for | |
your recommendation, I am, sir, | |
Faithfully yours, | |
Sherlock Holmes. | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE GARRIDEBS | |
It may have been a comedy, or it may have been a tragedy. It cost one | |
man his reason, it cost me a blood-letting, and it cost yet another | |
man the penalties of the law. Yet there was certainly an element of | |
comedy. Well, you shall judge for yourselves. | |
I remember the date very well, for it was in the same month that | |
Holmes refused a knighthood for services which may perhaps some day | |
be described. I only refer to the matter in passing, for in my | |
position of partner and confidant I am obliged to be particularly | |
careful to avoid any indiscretion. I repeat, however, that this | |
enables me to fix the date, which was the latter end of June, 1902, | |
shortly after the conclusion of the South African War. Holmes had | |
spent several days in bed, as was his habit from time to time, but he | |
emerged that morning with a long foolscap document in his hand and a | |
twinkle of amusement in his austere gray eyes. | |
"There is a chance for you to make some money, friend Watson," said | |
he. "Have you ever heard the name of Garrideb?" | |
I admitted that I had not. | |
"Well, if you can lay your hand upon a Garrideb, there's money in | |
it." | |
"Why?" | |
"Ah, that's a long story--rather a whimsical one, too. I don't think | |
in all our explorations of human complexities we have ever come upon | |
anything more singular. The fellow will be here presently for | |
cross-examination, so I won't open the matter up till he comes. But, | |
meanwhile, that's the name we want." | |
The telephone directory lay on the table beside me, and I turned over | |
the pages in a rather hopeless quest. But to my amazement there was | |
this strange name in its due place. I gave a cry of triumph. | |
"Here you are, Holmes! Here it is!" | |
Holmes took the book from my hand. | |
"'Garrideb, N.,' " he read, "'136 Little Ryder Street, W.' Sorry to | |
disappoint you, my dear Watson, but this is the man himself. That is | |
the address upon his letter. We want another to match him." | |
Mrs. Hudson had come in with a card upon a tray. I took it up and | |
glanced at it. | |
"Why, here it is!" I cried in amazement. "This is a different | |
initial. John Garrideb, Counsellor at Law, Moorville, Kansas, U. S. | |
A." | |
Holmes smiled as he looked at the card. "I am afraid you must make | |
yet another effort, Watson," said he. "This gentleman is also in the | |
plot already, though I certainly did not expect to see him this | |
morning. However, he is in a position to tell us a good deal which I | |
want to know." | |
A moment later he was in the room. Mr. John Garrideb, Counsellor at | |
Law, was a short, powerful man with the round, fresh, clean-shaven | |
face characteristic of so many American men of affairs. The general | |
effect was chubby and rather childlike, so that one received the | |
impression of quite a young man with a broad set smile upon his face. | |
His eyes, however, were arresting. Seldom in any human head have I | |
seen a pair which bespoke a more intense inward life, so bright were | |
they, so alert, so responsive to every change of thought. His accent | |
was American, but was not accompanied by any eccentricity of speech. | |
"Mr. Holmes?" he asked, glancing from one to the other. "Ah, yes! | |
Your pictures are not unlike you, sir, if I may say so. I believe you | |
have had a letter from my namesake, Mr. Nathan Garrideb, have you | |
not?" | |
"Pray sit down," said Sherlock Holmes. "We shall, I fancy, have a | |
good deal to discuss." He took up his sheets of foolscap. "You are, | |
of course, the Mr. John Garrideb mentioned in this document. But | |
surely you have been in England some time?" | |
"Why do you say that, Mr. Holmes?" I seemed to read sudden suspicion | |
in those expressive eyes. | |
"Your whole outfit is English." | |
Mr. Garrideb forced a laugh. "I've read of your tricks, Mr. Holmes, | |
but I never thought I would be the subject of them. Where do you read | |
that?" | |
"The shoulder cut of your coat, the toes of your boots--could anyone | |
doubt it?" | |
"Well, well, I had no idea I was so obvious a Britisher. But business | |
brought me over here some time ago, and so, as you say, my outfit is | |
nearly all London. However, I guess your time is of value, and we did | |
not meet to talk about the cut of my socks. What about getting down | |
to that paper you hold in your hand?" | |
Holmes had in some way ruffled our visitor, whose chubby face had | |
assumed a far less amiable expression. | |
"Patience! Patience, Mr. Garrideb!" said my friend in a soothing | |
voice. "Dr. Watson would tell you that these little digressions of | |
mine sometimes prove in the end to have some bearing on the matter. | |
But why did Mr. Nathan Garrideb not come with you?" | |
"Why did he ever drag you into it at all?" asked our visitor with a | |
sudden outflame of anger. "What in thunder had you to do with it? | |
Here was a bit of professional business between two gentlemen, and | |
one of them must needs call in a detective! I saw him this morning, | |
and he told me this fool-trick he had played me, and that's why I am | |
here. But I feel bad about it, all the same." | |
"There was no reflection upon you, Mr. Garrideb. It was simply zeal | |
upon his part to gain your end--an end which is, I understand, | |
equally vital for both of you. He knew that I had means of getting | |
information, and, therefore, it was very natural that he should apply | |
to me." | |
Our visitor's angry face gradually cleared. | |
"Well, that puts it different," said he. "When I went to see him this | |
morning and he told me he had sent to a detective, I just asked for | |
your address and came right away. I don't want police butting into a | |
private matter. But if you are content just to help us find the man, | |
there can be no harm in that." | |
"Well, that is just how it stands," said Holmes. "And now, sir, since | |
you are here, we had best have a clear account from your own lips. My | |
friend here knows nothing of the details." | |
Mr. Garrideb surveyed me with not too friendly a gaze. | |
"Need he know?" he asked. | |
"We usually work together." | |
"Well, there's no reason it should be kept a secret. I'll give you | |
the facts as short as I can make them. If you came from Kansas I | |
would not need to explain to you who Alexander Hamilton Garrideb was. | |
He made his money in real estate, and afterwards in the wheat pit at | |
Chicago, but he spent it in buying up as much land as would make one | |
of your counties, lying along the Arkansas River, west of Fort Dodge. | |
It's grazing-land and lumber-land and arable-land and | |
mineralized-land, and just every sort of land that brings dollars to | |
the man that owns it. | |
"He had no kith nor kin--or, if he had, I never heard of it. But he | |
took a kind of pride in the queerness of his name. That was what | |
brought us together. I was in the law at Topeka, and one day I had a | |
visit from the old man, and he was tickled to death to meet another | |
man with his own name. It was his pet fad, and he was dead set to | |
find out if there were any more Garridebs in the world. 'Find me | |
another!' said he. I told him I was a busy man and could not spend my | |
life hiking round the world in search of Garridebs. 'None the less,' | |
said he, 'that is just what you will do if things pan out as I | |
planned them.' I thought he was joking, but there was a powerful lot | |
of meaning in the words, as I was soon to discover. | |
"For he died within a year of saying them, and he left a will behind | |
him. It was the queerest will that has ever been filed in the State | |
of Kansas. His property was divided into three parts, and I was to | |
have one on condition that I found two Garridebs who would share the | |
remainder. It's five million dollars for each if it is a cent, but we | |
can't lay a finger on it until we all three stand in a row. | |
"It was so big a chance that I just let my legal practice slide and I | |
set forth looking for Garridebs. There is not one in the United | |
States. I went through it, sir, with a fine-toothed comb and never a | |
Garrideb could I catch. Then I tried the old country. Sure enough | |
there was the name in the London telephone directory. I went after | |
him two days ago and explained the whole matter to him. But he is a | |
lone man, like myself, with some women relations, but no men. It says | |
three adult men in the will. So you see we still have a vacancy, and | |
if you can help to fill it we will be very ready to pay your | |
charges." | |
"Well, Watson," said Holmes with a smile, "I said it was rather | |
whimsical, did I not? I should have thought, sir, that your obvious | |
way was to advertise in the agony columns of the papers." | |
"I have done that, Mr. Holmes. No replies." | |
"Dear me! Well, it is certainly a most curious little problem. I may | |
take a glance at it in my leisure. By the way, it is curious that you | |
should have come from Topeka. I used to have a correspondent--he is | |
dead now--old Dr. Lysander Starr, who was mayor in 1890." | |
"Good old Dr. Starr!" said our visitor. "His name is still honoured. | |
Well, Mr. Holmes, I suppose all we can do is to report to you and let | |
you know how we progress. I reckon you will hear within a day or | |
two." With this assurance our American bowed and departed. | |
Holmes had lit his pipe, and he sat for some time with a curious | |
smile upon his face. | |
"Well?" I asked at last. | |
"I am wondering, Watson--just wondering!" | |
"At what?" | |
Holmes took his pipe from his lips. | |
"I was wondering, Watson, what on earth could be the object of this | |
man in telling us such a rigmarole of lies. I nearly asked him | |
so--for there are times when a brutal frontal attack is the best | |
policy--but I judged it better to let him think he had fooled us. | |
Here is a man with an English coat frayed at the elbow and trousers | |
bagged at the knee with a year's wear, and yet by this document and | |
by his own account he is a provincial American lately landed in | |
London. There have been no advertisements in the agony columns. You | |
know that I miss nothing there. They are my favourite covert for | |
putting up a bird, and I would never have overlooked such a cock | |
pheasant as that. I never knew a Dr. Lysander Starr, of Topeka. Touch | |
him where you would he was false. I think the fellow is really an | |
American, but he has worn his accent smooth with years of London. | |
What is his game, then, and what motive lies behind this preposterous | |
search for Garridebs? It's worth our attention, for, granting that | |
the man is a rascal, he is certainly a complex and ingenious one. We | |
must now find out if our other correspondent is a fraud also. Just | |
ring him up, Watson." | |
I did so, and heard a thin, quavering voice at the other end of the | |
line. | |
"Yes, yes, I am Mr. Nathan Garrideb. Is Mr. Holmes there? I should | |
very much like to have a word with Mr. Holmes." | |
My friend took the instrument and I heard the usual syncopated | |
dialogue. | |
"Yes, he has been here. I understand that you don't know him. ... How | |
long? ... Only two days! ... Yes, yes, of course, it is a most | |
captivating prospect. Will you be at home this evening? I suppose | |
your namesake will not be there? ... Very good, we will come then, | |
for I would rather have a chat without him. ... Dr. Watson will come | |
with me. ... I understand from your note that you did not go out | |
often. ... Well, we shall be round about six. You need not mention it | |
to the American lawyer. ... Very good. Good-bye!" | |
It was twilight of a lovely spring evening, and even Little Ryder | |
Street, one of the smaller offshoots from the Edgware Road, within a | |
stone-cast of old Tyburn Tree of evil memory, looked golden and | |
wonderful in the slanting rays of the setting sun. The particular | |
house to which we were directed was a large, old-fashioned, Early | |
Georgian edifice, with a flat brick face broken only by two deep bay | |
windows on the ground floor. It was on this ground floor that our | |
client lived, and, indeed, the low windows proved to be the front of | |
the huge room in which he spent his waking hours. Holmes pointed as | |
we passed to the small brass plate which bore the curious name. | |
"Up some years, Watson," he remarked, indicating its discoloured | |
surface. "It's his real name, anyhow, and that is something to note." | |
The house had a common stair, and there were a number of names | |
painted in the hall, some indicating offices and some private | |
chambers. It was not a collection of residential flats, but rather | |
the abode of Bohemian bachelors. Our client opened the door for us | |
himself and apologized by saying that the woman in charge left at | |
four o'clock. Mr. Nathan Garrideb proved to be a very tall, | |
loose-jointed, round-backed person, gaunt and bald, some sixty-odd | |
years of age. He had a cadaverous face, with the dull dead skin of a | |
man to whom exercise was unknown. Large round spectacles and a small | |
projecting goat's beard combined with his stooping attitude to give | |
him an expression of peering curiosity. The general effect, however, | |
was amiable, though eccentric. | |
The room was as curious as its occupant. It looked like a small | |
museum. It was both broad and deep, with cupboards and cabinets all | |
round, crowded with specimens, geological and anatomical. Cases of | |
butterflies and moths flanked each side of the entrance. A large | |
table in the centre was littered with all sorts of debris, while the | |
tall brass tube of a powerful microscope bristled up among them. As I | |
glanced round I was surprised at the universality of the man's | |
interests. Here was a case of ancient coins. There was a cabinet of | |
flint instruments. Behind his central table was a large cupboard of | |
fossil bones. Above was a line of plaster skulls with such names as | |
"Neanderthal," "Heidelberg," "Cro-Magnon" printed beneath them. It | |
was clear that he was a student of many subjects. As he stood in | |
front of us now, he held a piece of chamois leather in his right hand | |
with which he was polishing a coin. | |
"Syracusan--of the best period," he explained, holding it up. "They | |
degenerated greatly towards the end. At their best I hold them | |
supreme, though some prefer the Alexandrian school. You will find a | |
chair here, Mr. Holmes. Pray allow me to clear these bones. And you, | |
sir--ah, yes, Dr. Watson--if you would have the goodness to put the | |
Japanese vase to one side. You see round me my little interests in | |
life. My doctor lectures me about never going out, but why should I | |
go out when I have so much to hold me here? I can assure you that the | |
adequate cataloguing of one of those cabinets would take me three | |
good months." | |
Holmes looked round him with curiosity. | |
"But do you tell me that you never go out?" he said. | |
"Now and again I drive down to Sotheby's or Christie's. Otherwise I | |
very seldom leave my room. I am not too strong, and my researches are | |
very absorbing. But you can imagine, Mr. Holmes, what a terrific | |
shock--pleasant but terrific--it was for me when I heard of this | |
unparalleled good fortune. It only needs one more Garrideb to | |
complete the matter, and surely we can find one. I had a brother, but | |
he is dead, and female relatives are disqualified. But there must | |
surely be others in the world. I had heard that you handled strange | |
cases, and that was why I sent to you. Of course, this American | |
gentleman is quite right, and I should have taken his advice first, | |
but I acted for the best." | |
"I think you acted very wisely indeed," said Holmes. "But are you | |
really anxious to acquire an estate in America?" | |
"Certainly not, sir. Nothing would induce me to leave my collection. | |
But this gentleman has assured me that he will buy me out as soon as | |
we have established our claim. Five million dollars was the sum | |
named. There are a dozen specimens in the market at the present | |
moment which fill gaps in my collection, and which I am unable to | |
purchase for want of a few hundred pounds. Just think what I could do | |
with five million dollars. Why, I have the nucleus of a national | |
collection. I shall be the Hans Sloane of my age." | |
His eyes gleamed behind his great spectacles. It was very clear that | |
no pains would be spared by Mr. Nathan Garrideb in finding a | |
namesake. | |
"I merely called to make your acquaintance, and there is no reason | |
why I should interrupt your studies," said Holmes. "I prefer to | |
establish personal touch with those with whom I do business. There | |
are few questions I need ask, for I have your very clear narrative in | |
my pocket, and I filled up the blanks when this American gentleman | |
called. I understand that up to this week you were unaware of his | |
existence." | |
"That is so. He called last Tuesday." | |
"Did he tell you of our interview to-day?" | |
"Yes, he came straight back to me. He had been very angry." | |
"Why should he be angry?" | |
"He seemed to think it was some reflection on his honour. But he was | |
quite cheerful again when he returned." | |
"Did he suggest any course of action?" | |
"No, sir, he did not." | |
"Has he had, or asked for, any money from you?" | |
"No, sir, never!" | |
"You see no possible object he has in view?" | |
"None, except what he states." | |
"Did you tell him of our telephone appointment?" | |
"Yes, sir, I did." | |
Holmes was lost in thought. I could see that he was puzzled. | |
"Have you any articles of great value in your collection?" | |
"No, sir. I am not a rich man. It is a good collection, but not a | |
very valuable one." | |
"You have no fear of burglars?" | |
"Not the least." | |
"How long have you been in these rooms?" | |
"Nearly five years." | |
Holmes's cross-examination was interrupted by an imperative knocking | |
at the door. No sooner had our client unlatched it than the American | |
lawyer burst excitedly into the room. | |
"Here you are!" he cried, waving a paper over his head. "I thought I | |
should be in time to get you. Mr. Nathan Garrideb, my | |
congratulations! You are a rich man, sir. Our business is happily | |
finished and all is well. As to you, Mr. Holmes, we can only say we | |
are sorry if we have given you any useless trouble." | |
He handed over the paper to our client, who stood staring at a marked | |
advertisement. Holmes and I leaned forward and read it over his | |
shoulder. This is how it ran: | |
Howard Garrideb | |
Constructor of Agricultural Machinery | |
Binders, reapers, steam and hand plows, drills, harrows, farmers' | |
carts, buckboards, and all other appliances. | |
Estimates for Artesian Wells | |
Apply Grosvenor Buildings, Aston | |
"Glorious!" gasped our host. "That makes our third man." | |
"I had opened up inquiries in Birmingham," said the American, "and my | |
agent there has sent me this advertisement from a local paper. We | |
must hustle and put the thing through. I have written to this man and | |
told him that you will see him in his office to-morrow afternoon at | |
four o'clock." | |
"You want me to see him?" | |
"What do you say, Mr. Holmes? Don't you think it would be wiser? Here | |
am I, a wandering American with a wonderful tale. Why should he | |
believe what I tell him? But you are a Britisher with solid | |
references, and he is bound to take notice of what you say. I would | |
go with you if you wished, but I have a very busy day to-morrow, and | |
I could always follow you if you are in any trouble." | |
"Well, I have not made such a journey for years." | |
"It is nothing, Mr. Garrideb. I have figured out our connections. You | |
leave at twelve and should be there soon after two. Then you can be | |
back the same night. All you have to do is to see this man, explain | |
the matter, and get an affidavit of his existence. By the Lord!" he | |
added hotly, "considering I've come all the way from the centre of | |
America, it is surely little enough if you go a hundred miles in | |
order to put this matter through." | |
"Quite so," said Holmes. "I think what this gentleman says is very | |
true." | |
Mr. Nathan Garrideb shrugged his shoulders with a disconsolate air. | |
"Well, if you insist I shall go," said he. "It is certainly hard for | |
me to refuse you anything, considering the glory of hope that you | |
have brought into my life." | |
"Then that is agreed," said Holmes, "and no doubt you will let me | |
have a report as soon as you can." | |
"I'll see to that," said the American. "Well," he added, looking at | |
his watch, "I'll have to get on. I'll call to-morrow, Mr. Nathan, and | |
see you off to Birmingham. Coming my way, Mr. Holmes? Well, then, | |
good-bye, and we may have good news for you to-morrow night." | |
I noticed that my friend's face cleared when the American left the | |
room, and the look of thoughtful perplexity had vanished. | |
"I wish I could look over your collection, Mr. Garrideb," said he. | |
"In my profession all sorts of odd knowledge comes useful, and this | |
room of yours is a storehouse of it." | |
Our client shone with pleasure and his eyes gleamed from behind his | |
big glasses. | |
"I had always heard, sir, that you were a very intelligent man," said | |
he. "I could take you round now if you have the time." | |
"Unfortunately, I have not. But these specimens are so well labelled | |
and classified that they hardly need your personal explanation. If I | |
should be able to look in to-morrow, I presume that there would be no | |
objection to my glancing over them?" | |
"None at all. You are most welcome. The place will, of course, be | |
shut up, but Mrs. Saunders is in the basement up to four o'clock and | |
would let you in with her key." | |
Well, I happen to be clear to-morrow afternoon. If you would say a | |
word to Mrs. Saunders it would be quite in order. By the way, who is | |
your house-agent?" | |
Our client was amazed at the sudden question. | |
"Holloway and Steele, in the Edgware Road. But why?" | |
"I am a bit of an archaeologist myself when it comes to houses," said | |
Holmes, laughing. "I was wondering if this was Queen Anne or | |
Georgian." | |
"Georgian, beyond doubt." | |
"Really. I should have thought a little earlier. However, it is | |
easily ascertained. Well, good-bye, Mr. Garrideb, and may you have | |
every success in your Birmingham journey." | |
The house-agent's was close by, but we found that it was closed for | |
the day, so we made our way back to Baker Street. It was not till | |
after dinner that Holmes reverted to the subject. | |
"Our little problem draws to a close," said he. "No doubt you have | |
outlined the solution in your own mind." | |
"I can make neither head nor tail of it." | |
"The head is surely clear enough and the tail we should see | |
to-morrow. Did you notice nothing curious about that advertisement?" | |
"I saw that the word 'plough' was misspelt." | |
"Oh, you did notice that, did you? Come, Watson, you improve all the | |
time. Yes, it was bad English but good American. The printer had set | |
it up as received. Then the buckboards. That is American also. And | |
artesian wells are commoner with them than with us. It was a typical | |
American advertisement, but purporting to be from an English firm. | |
What do you make of that?" | |
"I can only suppose that this American lawyer put it in himself. What | |
his object was I fail to understand." | |
"Well, there are alternative explanations. Anyhow, he wanted to get | |
this good old fossil up to Birmingham. That is very clear. I might | |
have told him that he was clearly going on a wild-goose chase, but, | |
on second thoughts, it seemed better to clear the stage by letting | |
him go. To-morrow, Watson--well, to-morrow will speak for itself." | |
Holmes was up and out early. When he returned at lunchtime I noticed | |
that his face was very grave. | |
"This is a more serious matter than I had expected, Watson," said he. | |
"It is fair to tell you so, though I know it will only be an | |
additional reason to you for running your head into danger. I should | |
know my Watson by now. But there is danger, and you should know it." | |
"Well, it is not the first we have shared, Holmes. I hope it may not | |
be the last. What is the particular danger this time?" | |
"We are up against a very hard case. I have identified Mr. John | |
Garrideb, Counsellor at Law. He is none other than 'Killer' Evans, of | |
sinister and murderous reputation." | |
"I fear I am none the wiser." | |
"Ah, it is not part of your profession to carry about a portable | |
Newgate Calendar in your memory. I have been down to see friend | |
Lestrade at the Yard. There may be an occasional want of imaginative | |
intuition down there, but they lead the world for thoroughness and | |
method. I had an idea that we might get on the track of our American | |
friend in their records. Sure enough, I found his chubby face smiling | |
up at me from the rogues' portrait gallery. 'James Winter, alias | |
Morecroft, alias Killer Evans,' was the inscription below." Holmes | |
drew an envelope from his pocket. "I scribbled down a few points from | |
his dossier: Aged forty-four. Native of Chicago. Known to have shot | |
three men in the States. Escaped from penitentiary through political | |
influence. Came to London in 1893. Shot a man over cards in a | |
night-club in the Waterloo Road in January, 1895. Man died, but he | |
was shown to have been the aggressor in the row. Dead man was | |
identified as Rodger Prescott, famous as forger and coiner in | |
Chicago. Killer Evans released in 1901. Has been under police | |
supervision since, but so far as known has led an honest life. Very | |
dangerous man, usually carries arms and is prepared to use them. That | |
is our bird, Watson--a sporting bird, as you must admit." | |
"But what is his game?" | |
"Well, it begins to define itself. I have been to the house-agent's. | |
Our client, as he told us, has been there five years. It was unlet | |
for a year before then. The previous tenant was a gentleman at large | |
named Waldron. Waldron's appearance was well remembered at the | |
office. He had suddenly vanished and nothing more been heard of him. | |
He was a tall, bearded man with very dark features. Now, Prescott, | |
the man whom Killer Evans had shot, was, according to Scotland Yard, | |
a tall, dark man with a beard. As a working hypothesis, I think we | |
may take it that Prescott, the American criminal, used to live in the | |
very room which our innocent friend now devotes to his museum. So at | |
last we get a link, you see." | |
"And the next link?" | |
"Well, we must go now and look for that." | |
He took a revolver from the drawer and handed it to me. | |
"I have my old favourite with me. If our Wild West friend tries to | |
live up to his nickname, we must be ready for him. I'll give you an | |
hour for a siesta, Watson, and then I think it will be time for our | |
Ryder Street adventure." | |
It was just four o'clock when we reached the curious apartment of | |
Nathan Garrideb. Mrs. Saunders, the caretaker, was about to leave, | |
but she had no hesitation in admitting us, for the door shut with a | |
spring lock, and Holmes promised to see that all was safe before we | |
left. Shortly afterwards the outer door closed, her bonnet passed the | |
bow window, and we knew that we were alone in the lower floor of the | |
house. Holmes made a rapid examination of the premises. There was one | |
cupboard in a dark corner which stood out a little from the wall. It | |
was behind this that we eventually crouched while Holmes in a whisper | |
outlined his intentions. | |
"He wanted to get our amiable friend out of his room--that is very | |
clear, and, as the collector never went out, it took some planning to | |
do it. The whole of this Garrideb invention was apparently for no | |
other end. I must say, Watson, that there is a certain devilish | |
ingenuity about it, even if the queer name of the tenant did give him | |
an opening which he could hardly have expected. He wove his plot with | |
remarkable cunning." | |
"But what did he want?" | |
"Well, that is what we are here to find out. It has nothing whatever | |
to do with our client, so far as I can read the situation. It is | |
something connected with the man he murdered--the man who may have | |
been his confederate in crime. There is some guilty secret in the | |
room. That is how I read it. At first I thought our friend might have | |
something in his collection more valuable than he knew--something | |
worth the attention of a big criminal. But the fact that Rodger | |
Prescott of evil memory inhabited these rooms points to some deeper | |
reason. Well, Watson, we can but possess our souls in patience and | |
see what the hour may bring." | |
That hour was not long in striking. We crouched closer in the shadow | |
as we heard the outer door open and shut. Then came the sharp, | |
metallic snap of a key, and the American was in the room. He closed | |
the door softly behind him, took a sharp glance around him to see | |
that all was safe, threw off his overcoat, and walked up to the | |
central table with the brisk manner of one who knows exactly what he | |
has to do and how to do it. He pushed the table to one side, tore up | |
the square of carpet on which it rested, rolled it completely back, | |
and then, drawing a jemmy from his inside pocket, he knelt down and | |
worked vigorously upon the floor. Presently we heard the sound of | |
sliding boards, and an instant later a square had opened in the | |
planks. Killer Evans struck a match, lit a stump of candle, and | |
vanished from our view. | |
Clearly our moment had come. Holmes touched my wrist as a signal, and | |
together we stole across to the open trap-door. Gently as we moved, | |
however, the old floor must have creaked under our feet, for the head | |
of our American, peering anxiously round, emerged suddenly from the | |
open space. His face turned upon us with a glare of baffled rage, | |
which gradually softened into a rather shamefaced grin as he realized | |
that two pistols were pointed at his head. | |
"Well, well!" said he coolly as he scrambled to the surface. "I guess | |
you have been one too many for me, Mr. Holmes. Saw through my game, I | |
suppose, and played me for a sucker from the first. Well, sir, I hand | |
it to you; you have me beat and--" | |
In an instant he had whisked out a revolver from his breast and had | |
fired two shots. I felt a sudden hot sear as if a red-hot iron had | |
been pressed to my thigh. There was a crash as Holmes's pistol came | |
down on the man's head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the | |
floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for | |
weapons. Then my friend's wiry arms were round me, and he was leading | |
me to a chair. | |
"You're not hurt, Watson? For God's sake, say that you are not hurt!" | |
It was worth a wound--it was worth many wounds--to know the depth of | |
loyalty and love which lay behind that cold mask. The clear, hard | |
eyes were dimmed for a moment, and the firm lips were shaking. For | |
the one and only time I caught a glimpse of a great heart as well as | |
of a great brain. All my years of humble but single-minded service | |
culminated in that moment of revelation. | |
"It's nothing, Holmes. It's a mere scratch." | |
He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket-knife. | |
"You are right," he cried with an immense sigh of relief. "It is | |
quite superficial." His face set like flint as he glared at our | |
prisoner, who was sitting up with a dazed face. "By the Lord, it is | |
as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out | |
of this room alive. Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" | |
He had nothing to say for himself. He only sat and scowled. I leaned | |
on Holmes's arm, and together we looked down into the small cellar | |
which had been disclosed by the secret flap. It was still illuminated | |
by the candle which Evans had taken down with him. Our eyes fell upon | |
a mass of rusted machinery, great rolls of paper, a litter of | |
bottles, and, neatly arranged upon a small table, a number of neat | |
little bundles. | |
"A printing press--a counterfeiter's outfit," said Holmes. | |
"Yes, sir," said our prisoner, staggering slowly to his feet and then | |
sinking into the chair. "The greatest counterfeiter London ever saw. | |
That's Prescott's machine, and those bundles on the table are two | |
thousand of Prescott's notes worth a hundred each and fit to pass | |
anywhere. Help yourselves, gentlemen. Call it a deal and let me beat | |
it." | |
Holmes laughed. | |
"We don't do things like that, Mr. Evans. There is no bolt-hole for | |
you in this country. You shot this man Prescott, did you not?" | |
"Yes, sir, and got five years for it, though it was he who pulled on | |
me. Five years--when I should have had a medal the size of a soup | |
plate. No living man could tell a Prescott from a Bank of England, | |
and if I hadn't put him out he would have flooded London with them. I | |
was the only one in the world who knew where he made them. Can you | |
wonder that I wanted to get to the place? And can you wonder that | |
when I found this crazy boob of a bug-hunter with the queer name | |
squatting right on the top of it, and never quitting his room, I had | |
to do the best I could to shift him? Maybe I would have been wiser if | |
I had put him away. It would have been easy enough, but I'm a | |
soft-hearted guy that can't begin shooting unless the other man has a | |
gun also. But say, Mr. Holmes, what have I done wrong, anyhow? I've | |
not used this plant. I've not hurt this old stiff. Where do you get | |
me?" | |
"Only attempted murder, so far as I can see," said Holmes. "But | |
that's not our job. They take that at the next stage. What we wanted | |
at present was just your sweet self. Please give the Yard a call, | |
Watson. It won't be entirely unexpected." | |
So those were the facts about Killer Evans and his remarkable | |
invention of the three Garridebs. We heard later that our poor old | |
friend never got over the shock of his dissipated dreams. When his | |
castle in the air fell down, it buried him beneath the ruins. He was | |
last heard of at a nursing-home in Brixton. It was a glad day at the | |
Yard when the Prescott outfit was discovered, for, though they knew | |
that it existed, they had never been able, after the death of the | |
man, to find out where it was. Evans had indeed done great service | |
and caused several worthy C. I. D. men to sleep the sounder, for the | |
counterfeiter stands in a class by himself as a public danger. They | |
would willingly have subscribed to that soup-plate medal of which the | |
criminal had spoken, but an unappreciative bench took a less | |
favourable view, and the Killer returned to those shades from which | |
he had just emerged. | |
THE PROBLEM OF THOR BRIDGE | |
Somewhere in the vaults of the bank of Cox and Co., at Charing Cross, | |
there is a travel-worn and battered tin dispatch-box with my name, | |
John H. Watson, M.D., Late Indian Army, painted upon the lid. It is | |
crammed with papers, nearly all of which are records of cases to | |
illustrate the curious problems which Mr. Sherlock Holmes had at | |
various times to examine. Some, and not the least interesting, were | |
complete failures, and as such will hardly bear narrating, since no | |
final explanation is forthcoming. A problem without a solution may | |
interest the student, but can hardly fail to annoy the casual reader. | |
Among these unfinished tales is that of Mr. James Phillimore, who, | |
stepping back into his own house to get his umbrella, was never more | |
seen in this world. No less remarkable is that of the cutter Alicia, | |
which sailed one spring morning into a small patch of mist from where | |
she never again emerged, nor was anything further ever heard of | |
herself and her crew. A third case worthy of note is that of Isadora | |
Persano, the well-known journalist and duellist, who was found stark | |
staring mad with a match box in front of him which contained a | |
remarkable worm said to be unknown to science. Apart from these | |
unfathomed cases, there are some which involve the secrets of private | |
families to an extent which would mean consternation in many exalted | |
quarters if it were thought possible that they might find their way | |
into print. I need not say that such a breach of confidence is | |
unthinkable, and that these records will be separated and destroyed | |
now that my friend has time to turn his energies to the matter. There | |
remain a considerable residue of cases of greater or less interest | |
which I might have edited before had I not feared to give the public | |
a surfeit which might react upon the reputation of the man whom above | |
all others I revere. In some I was myself concerned and can speak as | |
an eye-witness, while in others I was either not present or played so | |
small a part that they could only be told as by a third person. The | |
following narrative is drawn from my own experience. | |
It was a wild morning in October, and I observed as I was dressing | |
how the last remaining leaves were being whirled from the solitary | |
plane tree which graces the yard behind our house. I descended to | |
breakfast prepared to find my companion in depressed spirits, for, | |
like all great artists, he was easily impressed by his surroundings. | |
On the contrary, I found that he had nearly finished his meal, and | |
that his mood was particularly bright and joyous, with that somewhat | |
sinister cheerfulness which was characteristic of his lighter | |
moments. | |
"You have a case, Holmes?" I remarked. | |
"The faculty of deduction is certainly contagious, Watson," he | |
answered. "It has enabled you to probe my secret. Yes, I have a case. | |
After a month of trivialities and stagnation the wheels move once | |
more." | |
"Might I share it?" | |
"There is little to share, but we may discuss it when you have | |
consumed the two hard-boiled eggs with which our new cook has | |
favoured us. Their condition may not be unconnected with the copy of | |
the Family Herald which I observed yesterday upon the hall-table. | |
Even so trivial a matter as cooking an egg demands an attention which | |
is conscious of the passage of time and incompatible with the love | |
romance in that excellent periodical." | |
A quarter of an hour later the table had been cleared and we were | |
face to face. He had drawn a letter from his pocket. | |
"You have heard of Neil Gibson, the Gold King?" he said. | |
"You mean the American Senator?" | |
"Well, he was once Senator for some Western state, but is better | |
known as the greatest gold-mining magnate in the world." | |
"Yes, I know of him. He has surely lived in England for some time. | |
His name is very familiar." | |
"Yes, he bought a considerable estate in Hampshire some five years | |
ago. Possibly you have already heard of the tragic end of his wife?" | |
"Of course. I remember it now. That is why the name is familiar. But | |
I really know nothing of the details." | |
Holmes waved his hand towards some papers on a chair. "I had no idea | |
that the case was coming my way or I should have had my extracts | |
ready," said he. "The fact is that the problem, though exceedingly | |
sensational, appeared to present no difficulty. The interesting | |
personality of the accused does not obscure the clearness of the | |
evidence. That was the view taken by the coroner's jury and also in | |
the police-court proceedings. It is now referred to the Assizes at | |
Winchester. I fear it is a thankless business. I can discover facts, | |
Watson, but I cannot change them. Unless some entirely new and | |
unexpected ones come to light I do not see what my client can hope | |
for." | |
"Your client?" | |
"Ah, I forgot I had not told you. I am getting into your involved | |
habit, Watson, of telling a story backward. You had best read this | |
first." | |
The letter which he handed to me, written in a bold, masterful hand, | |
ran as follows: | |
Claridge's Hotel | |
October 3rd. | |
Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes: | |
I can't see the best woman God ever made go to her death without | |
doing all that is possible to save her. I can't explain things--I | |
can't even try to explain them, but I know beyond all doubt that Miss | |
Dunbar is innocent. You know the facts--who doesn't? It has been the | |
gossip of the country. And never a voice raised for her! It's the | |
damned injustice of it all that makes me crazy. That woman has a | |
heart that wouldn't let her kill a fly. Well, I'll come at eleven | |
to-morrow and see if you can get some ray of light in the dark. Maybe | |
I have a clue and don't know it. Anyhow, all I know and all I have | |
and all I am are for your use if only you can save her. If ever in | |
your life you showed your powers, put them now into this case. | |
Yours faithfully, | |
J. Neil Gibson. | |
"There you have it," said Sherlock Holmes, knocking out the ashes of | |
his after-breakfast pipe and slowly refilling it. "That is the | |
gentleman I await. As to the story, you have hardly time to master | |
all these papers, so I must give it to you in a nutshell if you are | |
to take an intelligent interest in the proceedings. This man is the | |
greatest financial power in the world, and a man, as I understand, of | |
most violent and formidable character. He married a wife, the victim | |
of this tragedy, of whom I know nothing save that she was past her | |
prime, which was the more unfortunate as a very attractive governess | |
superintended the education of two young children. These are the | |
three people concerned, and the scene is a grand old manor house, the | |
centre of a historical English state. Then as to the tragedy. The | |
wife was found in the grounds nearly half a mile from the house, late | |
at night, clad in her dinner dress, with a shawl over her shoulders | |
and a revolver bullet through her brain. No weapon was found near her | |
and there was no local clue as to the murder. No weapon near her, | |
Watson--mark that! The crime seems to have been committed late in the | |
evening, and the body was found by a game-keeper about eleven | |
o'clock, when it was examined by the police and by a doctor before | |
being carried up to the house. Is this too condensed, or can you | |
follow it clearly?" | |
"It is all very clear. But why suspect the governess?" | |
"Well, in the first place there is some very direct evidence. A | |
revolver with one discharged chamber and a calibre which corresponded | |
with the bullet was found on the floor of her wardrobe." His eyes | |
fixed and he repeated in broken words, | |
"On--the--floor--of--her--wardrobe." Then he sank into silence, and I | |
saw that some train of thought had been set moving which I should be | |
foolish to interrupt. Suddenly with a start he emerged into brisk | |
life once more. "Yes, Watson, it was found. Pretty damning, eh? So | |
the two juries thought. Then the dead woman had a note upon her | |
making an appointment at that very place and signed by the governess. | |
How's that? Finally there is the motive. Senator Gibson is an | |
attractive person. If his wife dies, who more likely to succeed her | |
than the young lady who had already by all accounts received pressing | |
attentions from her employer? Love, fortune, power, all depending | |
upon one middle-aged life. Ugly, Watson--very ugly!" | |
"Yes, indeed, Holmes." | |
"Nor could she prove an alibi. On the contrary, she had to admit that | |
she was down near Thor Bridge--that was the scene of the | |
tragedy--about that hour. She couldn't deny it, for some passing | |
villager had seen her there." | |
"That really seems final." | |
"And yet, Watson--and yet! This bridge--a single broad span of stone | |
with balustraded sides--carries the drive over the narrowest part of | |
a long, deep, reed-girt sheet of water. Thor Mere it is called. In | |
the mouth of the bridge lay the dead woman. Such are the main facts. | |
But here, if I mistake not, is our client, considerably before his | |
time." | |
Billy had opened the door, but the name which he announced was an | |
unexpected one. Mr. Marlow Bates was a stranger to both of us. He was | |
a thin, nervous wisp of a man with frightened eyes and a twitching, | |
hesitating manner--a man whom my own professional eye would judge to | |
be on the brink of an absolute nervous breakdown. | |
"You seem agitated, Mr. Bates," said Holmes. "Pray sit down. I fear I | |
can only give you a short time, for I have an appointment at eleven." | |
"I know you have," our visitor gasped, shooting out short sentences | |
like a man who is out of breath. "Mr. Gibson is coming. Mr. Gibson is | |
my employer. I am manager of his estate. Mr. Holmes, he is a | |
villain--an infernal villain." | |
"Strong language, Mr. Bates." | |
"I have to be emphatic, Mr. Holmes, for the time is so limited. I | |
would not have him find me here for the world. He is almost due now. | |
But I was so situated that I could not come earlier. His secretary, | |
Mr. Ferguson, only told me this morning of his appointment with you." | |
"And you are his manager?" | |
"I have given him notice. In a couple of weeks I shall have shaken | |
off his accursed slavery. A hard man, Mr. Holmes, hard to all about | |
him. Those public charities are a screen to cover his private | |
iniquities. But his wife was his chief victim. He was brutal to | |
her--yes, sir, brutal! How she came by her death I do not know, but I | |
am sure that he had made her life a misery to her. She was a creature | |
of the tropics, a Brazilian by birth, as no doubt you know." | |
"No, it had escaped me." | |
"Tropical by birth and tropical by nature. A child of the sun and of | |
passion. She had loved him as such women can love, but when her own | |
physical charms had faded--I am told that they once were great--there | |
was nothing to hold him. We all liked her and felt for her and hated | |
him for the way that he treated her. But he is plausible and cunning. | |
That is all I have to say to you. Don't take him at his face value. | |
There is more behind. Now I'll go. No, no, don't detain me! He is | |
almost due." | |
With a frightened look at the clock our strange visitor literally ran | |
to the door and disappeared. | |
"Well! Well!" said Holmes after an interval of silence. "Mr. Gibson | |
seems to have a nice loyal household. But the warning is a useful | |
one, and now we can only wait till the man himself appears." | |
Sharp at the hour we heard a heavy step upon the stairs, and the | |
famous millionaire was shown into the room. As I looked upon him I | |
understood not only the fears and dislike of his manager but also the | |
execrations which so many business rivals have heaped upon his head. | |
If I were a sculptor and desired to idealize the successful man of | |
affairs, iron of nerve and leathery of conscience, I should choose | |
Mr. Neil Gibson as my model. His tall, gaunt, craggy figure had a | |
suggestion of hunger and rapacity. An Abraham Lincoln keyed to base | |
uses instead of high ones would give some idea of the man. His face | |
might have been chiselled in granite, hard-set, craggy, remorseless, | |
with deep lines upon it, the scars of many a crisis. Cold gray eyes, | |
looking shrewdly out from under bristling brows, surveyed us each in | |
turn. He bowed in perfunctory fashion as Holmes mentioned my name, | |
and then with a masterful air of possession he drew a chair up to my | |
companion and seated himself with his bony knees almost touching him. | |
"Let me say right here, Mr. Holmes," he began, "that money is nothing | |
to me in this case. You can burn it if it's any use in lighting you | |
to the truth. This woman is innocent and this woman has to be | |
cleared, and it's up to you to do it. Name your figure!" | |
"My professional charges are upon a fixed scale," said Holmes coldly. | |
"I do not vary them, save when I remit them altogether." | |
"Well, if dollars make no difference to you, think of the reputation. | |
If you pull this off every paper in England and America will be | |
booming you. You'll be the talk of two continents." | |
"Thank you, Mr. Gibson, I do not think that I am in need of booming. | |
It may surprise you to know that I prefer to work anonymously, and | |
that it is the problem itself which attracts me. But we are wasting | |
time. Let us get down to the facts." | |
"I think that you will find all the main ones in the press reports. I | |
don't know that I can add anything which will help you. But if there | |
is anything you would wish more light upon--well, I am here to give | |
it." | |
"Well, there is just one point." | |
"What is it?" | |
"What were the exact relations between you and Miss Dunbar?" | |
The Gold King gave a violent start and half rose from his chair. Then | |
his massive calm came back to him. | |
"I suppose you are within your rights--and maybe doing your duty--in | |
asking such a question, Mr. Holmes." | |
"We will agree to suppose so," said Holmes. | |
"Then I can assure you that our relations were entirely and always | |
those of an employer towards a young lady whom he never conversed | |
with, or ever saw, save when she was in the company of his children." | |
Holmes rose from his chair. | |
"I am a rather busy man, Mr. Gibson," said he, "and I have no time or | |
taste for aimless conversations. I wish you good-morning." | |
Our visitor had risen also, and his great loose figure towered above | |
Holmes. There was an angry gleam from under those bristling brows and | |
a tinge of colour in the sallow cheeks. | |
"What the devil do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes? Do you dismiss my | |
case?" | |
"Well, Mr. Gibson, at least I dismiss you. I should have thought my | |
words were plain." | |
"Plain enough, but what's at the back of it? Raising the price on me, | |
or afraid to tackle it, or what? I've a right to a plain answer." | |
"Well, perhaps you have," said Holmes. "I'll give you one. This case | |
is quite sufficiently complicated to start with without the further | |
difficulty of false information." | |
"Meaning that I lie." | |
"Well, I was trying to express it as delicately as I could, but if | |
you insist upon the word I will not contradict you." | |
I sprang to my feet, for the expression upon the millionaire's face | |
was fiendish in its intensity, and he had raised his great knotted | |
fist. Holmes smiled languidly and reached his hand out for his pipe. | |
"Don't be noisy, Mr. Gibson. I find that after breakfast even the | |
smallest argument is unsettling. I suggest that a stroll in the | |
morning air and a little quiet thought will be greatly to your | |
advantage." | |
With an effort the Gold King mastered his fury. I could not but | |
admire him, for by a supreme self-command he had turned in a minute | |
from a hot flame of anger to a frigid and contemptuous indifference. | |
"Well, it's your choice. I guess you know how to run your own | |
business. I can't make you touch the case against your will. You've | |
done yourself no good this morning, Mr. Holmes, for I have broken | |
stronger men than you. No man ever crossed me and was the better for | |
it." | |
"So many have said so, and yet here I am," said Holmes, smiling. | |
"Well, good-morning, Mr. Gibson. You have a good deal yet to learn." | |
Our visitor made a noisy exit, but Holmes smoked in imperturbable | |
silence with dreamy eyes fixed upon the ceiling. | |
"Any views, Watson?" he asked at last. | |
"Well, Holmes, I must confess that when I consider that this is a man | |
who would certainly brush any obstacle from his path, and when I | |
remember that his wife may have been an obstacle and an object of | |
dislike, as that man Bates plainly told us, it seems to me--" | |
"Exactly. And to me also." | |
"But what were his relations with the governess, and how did you | |
discover them?" | |
"Bluff, Watson, bluff! When I considered the passionate, | |
unconventional, unbusinesslike tone of his letter and contrasted it | |
with his self-contained manner and appearance, it was pretty clear | |
that there was some deep emotion which centred upon the accused woman | |
rather than upon the victim. We've got to understand the exact | |
relations of those three people if we are to reach the truth. You saw | |
the frontal attack which I made upon him, and how imperturbably he | |
received it. Then I bluffed him by giving him the impression that I | |
was absolutely certain, when in reality I was only extremely | |
suspicious." | |
"Perhaps he will come back?" | |
"He is sure to come back. He must come back. He can't leave it where | |
it is. Ha! isn't that a ring? Yes, there is his footstep. Well, Mr. | |
Gibson, I was just saying to Dr. Watson that you were somewhat | |
overdue." | |
The Gold King had reentered the room in a more chastened mood than he | |
had left it. His wounded pride still showed in his resentful eyes, | |
but his common sense had shown him that he must yield if he would | |
attain his end. | |
"I've been thinking it over, Mr. Holmes, and I feel that I have been | |
hasty in taking your remarks amiss. You are justified in getting down | |
to the facts, whatever they may be, and I think the more of you for | |
it. I can assure you, however, that the relations between Miss Dunbar | |
and me don't really touch this case." | |
"That is for me to decide, is it not?" | |
"Yes, I guess that is so. You're like a surgeon who wants every | |
symptom before he can give his diagnosis." | |
"Exactly. That expresses it. And it is only a patient who has an | |
object in deceiving his surgeon who would conceal the facts of his | |
case." | |
"That may be so, but you will admit, Mr. Holmes, that most men would | |
shy off a bit when they are asked point-blank what their relations | |
with a woman may be--if there is really some serious feeling in the | |
case. I guess most men have a little private reserve of their own in | |
some corner of their souls where they don't welcome intruders. And | |
you burst suddenly into it. But the object excuses you, since it was | |
to try and save her. Well, the stakes are down and the reserve open, | |
and you can explore where you will. What is it you want?" | |
"The truth." | |
The Gold King paused for a moment as one who marshals his thoughts. | |
His grim, deep-lined face had become even sadder and more grave. | |
"I can give it to you in a very few words, Mr. Holmes," said he at | |
last. "There are some things that are painful as well as difficult to | |
say, so I won't go deeper than is needful. I met my wife when I was | |
gold-hunting in Brazil. Maria Pinto was the daughter of a government | |
official at Manaos, and she was very beautiful. I was young and | |
ardent in those days, but even now, as I look back with colder blood | |
and a more critical eye, I can see that she was rare and wonderful in | |
her beauty. It was a deep rich nature, too, passionate, | |
whole-hearted, tropical, ill-balanced, very different from the | |
American women whom I had known. Well, to make a long story short, I | |
loved her and I married her. It was only when the romance had | |
passed--and it lingered for years--that I realized that we had | |
nothing--absolutely nothing--in common. My love faded. If hers had | |
faded also it might have been easier. But you know the wonderful way | |
of women! Do what I might, nothing could turn her from me. If I have | |
been harsh to her, even brutal as some have said, it has been because | |
I knew that if I could kill her love, or if it turned to hate, it | |
would be easier for both of us. But nothing changed her. She adored | |
me in those English woods as she had adored me twenty years ago on | |
the banks of the Amazon. Do what I might, she was as devoted as ever. | |
"Then came Miss Grace Dunbar. She answered our advertisement and | |
became governess to our two children. Perhaps you have seen her | |
portrait in the papers. The whole world has proclaimed that she also | |
is a very beautiful woman. Now, I make no pretence to be more moral | |
than my neighbours, and I will admit to you that I could not live | |
under the same roof with such a woman and in daily contact with her | |
without feeling a passionate regard for her. Do you blame me, Mr. | |
Holmes?" | |
"I do not blame you for feeling it. I should blame you if you | |
expressed it, since this young lady was in a sense under your | |
protection." | |
"Well, maybe so," said the millionaire, though for a moment the | |
reproof had brought the old angry gleam into his eyes. "I'm not | |
pretending to be any better than I am. I guess all my life I've been | |
a man that reached out his hand for what he wanted, and I never | |
wanted anything more than the love and possession of that woman. I | |
told her so." | |
"Oh, you did, did you?" | |
Holmes could look very formidable when he was moved. | |
"I said to her that if I could marry her I would, but that it was out | |
of my power. I said that money was no object and that all I could do | |
to make her happy and comfortable would be done." | |
"Very generous, I am sure," said Holmes with a sneer. | |
"See here, Mr. Holmes. I came to you on a question of evidence, not | |
on a question of morals. I'm not asking for your criticism." | |
"It is only for the young lady's sake that I touch your case at all," | |
said Holmes sternly. "I don't know that anything she is accused of is | |
really worse than what you have yourself admitted, that you have | |
tried to ruin a defenceless girl who was under your roof. Some of you | |
rich men have to be taught that all the world cannot be bribed into | |
condoning your offences." | |
To my surprise the Gold King took the reproof with equanimity. | |
"That's how I feel myself about it now. I thank God that my plans did | |
not work out as I intended. She would have none of it, and she wanted | |
to leave the house instantly." | |
"Why did she not?" | |
"Well, in the first place, others were dependent upon her, and it was | |
no light matter for her to let them all down by sacrificing her | |
living. When I had sworn--as I did--that she should never be molested | |
again, she consented to remain. But there was another reason. She | |
knew the influence she had over me, and that it was stronger than any | |
other influence in the world. She wanted to use it for good." | |
"How?" | |
"Well, she knew something of my affairs. They are large, Mr. | |
Holmes--large beyond the belief of an ordinary man. I can make or | |
break--and it is usually break. It wasn't individuals only. It was | |
communities, cities, even nations. Business is a hard game, and the | |
weak go to the wall. I played the game for all it was worth. I never | |
squealed myself, and I never cared if the other fellow squealed. But | |
she saw it different. I guess she was right. She believed and said | |
that a fortune for one man that was more than he needed should not be | |
built on ten thousand ruined men who were left without the means of | |
life. That was how she saw it, and I guess she could see past the | |
dollars to something that was more lasting. She found that I listened | |
to what she said, and she believed she was serving the world by | |
influencing my actions. So she stayed--and then this came along." | |
"Can you throw any light upon that?" | |
The Gold King paused for a minute or more, his head sunk in his | |
hands, lost in deep thought. | |
"It's very black against her. I can't deny that. And women lead an | |
inward life and may do things beyond the judgment of a man. At first | |
I was so rattled and taken aback that I was ready to think she had | |
been led away in some extraordinary fashion that was clean against | |
her usual nature. One explanation came into my head. I give it to | |
you, Mr. Holmes, for what it is worth. There is no doubt that my wife | |
was bitterly jealous. There is a soul-jealousy that can be as frantic | |
as any body-jealousy, and though my wife had no cause--and I think | |
she understood this--for the latter, she was aware that this English | |
girl exerted an influence upon my mind and my acts that she herself | |
never had. It was an influence for good, but that did not mend the | |
matter. She was crazy with hatred, and the heat of the Amazon was | |
always in her blood. She might have planned to murder Miss Dunbar--or | |
we will say to threaten her with a gun and so frighten her into | |
leaving us. Then there might have been a scuffle and the gun gone off | |
and shot the woman who held it." | |
"That possibility had already occurred to me," said Holmes. "Indeed, | |
it is the only obvious alternative to deliberate murder." | |
"But she utterly denies it." | |
"Well, that is not final--is it? One can understand that a woman | |
placed in so awful a position might hurry home still in her | |
bewilderment holding the revolver. She might even throw it down among | |
her clothes, hardly knowing what she was doing, and when it was found | |
she might try to lie her way out by a total denial, since all | |
explanation was impossible. What is against such a supposition?" | |
"Miss Dunbar herself." | |
"Well, perhaps." | |
Holmes looked at his watch. "I have no doubt we can get the necessary | |
permits this morning and reach Winchester by the evening train. When | |
I have seen this young lady it is very possible that I may be of more | |
use to you in the matter, though I cannot promise that my conclusions | |
will necessarily be such as you desire." | |
There was some delay in the official pass, and instead of reaching | |
Winchester that day we went down to Thor Place, the Hampshire estate | |
of Mr. Neil Gibson. He did not accompany us himself, but we had the | |
address of Sergeant Coventry, of the local police, who had first | |
examined into the affair. He was a tall, thin, cadaverous man, with a | |
secretive and mysterious manner which conveyed the idea that he knew | |
or suspected a very great deal more than he dared say. He had a | |
trick, too, of suddenly sinking his voice to a whisper as if he had | |
come upon something of vital importance, though the information was | |
usually commonplace enough. Behind these tricks of manner he soon | |
showed himself to be a decent, honest fellow who was not too proud to | |
admit that he was out of his depth and would welcome any help. | |
"Anyhow, I'd rather have you than Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes," said | |
he. "If the Yard gets called into a case, then the local loses all | |
credit for success and may be blamed for failure. Now, you play | |
straight, so I've heard." | |
"I need not appear in the matter at all," said Holmes to the evident | |
relief of our melancholy acquaintance. "If I can clear it up I don't | |
ask to have my name mentioned." | |
"Well, it's very handsome of you, I am sure. And your friend, Dr. | |
Watson, can be trusted, I know. Now, Mr. Holmes, as we walk down to | |
the place there is one question I should like to ask you. I'd breathe | |
it to no soul but you." He looked round as though he hardly dare | |
utter the words. "Don't you think there might be a case against Mr. | |
Neil Gibson himself?" | |
"I have been considering that." | |
"You've not seen Miss Dunbar. She is a wonderful fine woman in every | |
way. He may well have wished his wife out of the road. And these | |
Americans are readier with pistols than our folk are. It was his | |
pistol, you know." | |
"Was that clearly made out?" | |
"Yes, sir. It was one of a pair that he had." | |
"One of a pair? Where is the other?" | |
"Well, the gentleman has a lot of firearms of one sort and another. | |
We never quite matched that particular pistol--but the box was made | |
for two." | |
"If it was one of a pair you should surely be able to match it." | |
"Well, we have them all laid out at the house if you would care to | |
look them over." | |
"Later, perhaps. I think we will walk down together and have a look | |
at the scene of the tragedy." | |
This conversation had taken place in the little front room of | |
Sergeant Coventry's humble cottage which served as the local | |
police-station. A walk of half a mile or so across a wind-swept | |
heath, all gold and bronze with the fading ferns, brought us to a | |
side-gate opening into the grounds of the Thor Place estate. A path | |
led us through the pheasant preserves, and then from a clearing we | |
saw the widespread, half-timbered house, half Tudor and half | |
Georgian, upon the crest of the hill. Beside us there was a long, | |
reedy pool, constricted in the centre where the main carriage drive | |
passed over a stone bridge, but swelling into small lakes on either | |
side. Our guide paused at the mouth of this bridge, and he pointed to | |
the ground. | |
"That was where Mrs. Gibson's body lay. I marked it by that stone." | |
"I understand that you were there before it was moved?" | |
"Yes, they sent for me at once." | |
"Who did?" | |
"Mr. Gibson himself. The moment the alarm was given and he had rushed | |
down with others from the house, he insisted that nothing should be | |
moved until the police should arrive." | |
"That was sensible. I gathered from the newspaper report that the | |
shot was fired from close quarters." | |
"Yes, sir, very close." | |
"Near the right temple?" | |
"Just behind it, sir." | |
"How did the body lie?" | |
"On the back, sir. No trace of a struggle. No marks. No weapon. The | |
short note from Miss Dunbar was clutched in her left hand." | |
"Clutched, you say?" | |
"Yes, sir, we could hardly open the fingers." | |
"That is of great importance. It excludes the idea that anyone could | |
have placed the note there after death in order to furnish a false | |
clue. Dear me! The note, as I remember, was quite short: | |
"I will be at Thor Bridge at nine o'clock. | |
"G. Dunbar. | |
"Was that not so?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"Did Miss Dunbar admit writing it?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"What was her explanation?" | |
"Her defence was reserved for the Assizes. She would say nothing." | |
"The problem is certainly a very interesting one. The point of the | |
letter is very obscure, is it not?" | |
"Well, sir," said the guide, "it seemed, if I may be so bold as to | |
say so, the only really clear point in the whole case." | |
Holmes shook his head. | |
"Granting that the letter is genuine and was really written, it was | |
certainly received some time before--say one hour or two. Why, then, | |
was this lady still clasping it in her left hand? Why should she | |
carry it so carefully? She did not need to refer to it in the | |
interview. Does it not seem remarkable?" | |
"Well, sir, as you put it, perhaps it does." | |
"I think I should like to sit quietly for a few minutes and think it | |
out." He seated himself upon the stone ledge of the bridge, and I | |
could see his quick gray eyes darting their questioning glances in | |
every direction. Suddenly he sprang up again and ran across to the | |
opposite parapet, whipped his lens from his pocket, and began to | |
examine the stonework. | |
"This is curious," said he. | |
"Yes, sir, we saw the chip on the ledge. I expect it's been done by | |
some passer-by." | |
The stonework was gray, but at this one point it showed white for a | |
space not larger than a sixpence. When examined closely one could see | |
that the surface was chipped as by a sharp blow. | |
"It took some violence to do that," said Holmes thoughtfully. With | |
his cane he struck the ledge several times without leaving a mark. | |
"Yes, it was a hard knock. In a curious place, too. It was not from | |
above but from below, for you see that it is on the lower edge of the | |
parapet." | |
"But it is at least fifteen feet from the body." | |
"Yes, it is fifteen feet from the body. It may have nothing to do | |
with the matter, but it is a point worth noting. I do not think that | |
we have anything more to learn here. There were no footsteps, you | |
say?" | |
"The ground was iron hard, sir. There were no traces at all." | |
"Then we can go. We will go up to the house first and look over these | |
weapons of which you speak. Then we shall get on to Winchester, for I | |
should desire to see Miss Dunbar before we go farther." | |
Mr. Neil Gibson had not returned from town, but we saw in the house | |
the neurotic Mr. Bates who had called upon us in the morning. He | |
showed us with a sinister relish the formidable array of firearms of | |
various shapes and sizes which his employer had accumulated in the | |
course of an adventurous life. | |
"Mr. Gibson has his enemies, as anyone would expect who knew him and | |
his methods," said he. "He sleeps with a loaded revolver in the | |
drawer beside his bed. He is a man of violence, sir, and there are | |
times when all of us are afraid of him. I am sure that the poor lady | |
who has passed was often terrified." | |
"Did you ever witness physical violence towards her?" | |
"No, I cannot say that. But I have heard words which were nearly as | |
bad--words of cold, cutting contempt, even before the servants." | |
"Our millionaire does not seem to shine in private life," remarked | |
Holmes as we made our way to the station. "Well, Watson, we have come | |
on a good many facts, some of them new ones, and yet I seem some way | |
from my conclusion. In spite of the very evident dislike which Mr. | |
Bates has to his employer, I gather from him that when the alarm came | |
he was undoubtedly in his library. Dinner was over at 8.30 and all | |
was normal up to then. It is true that the alarm was somewhat late in | |
the evening, but the tragedy certainly occurred about the hour named | |
in the note. There is no evidence at all that Mr. Gibson had been out | |
of doors since his return from town at five o'clock. On the other | |
hand, Miss Dunbar, as I understand it, admits that she had made an | |
appointment to meet Mrs. Gibson at the bridge. Beyond this she would | |
say nothing, as her lawyer had advised her to reserve her defence. We | |
have several very vital questions to ask that young lady, and my mind | |
will not be easy until we have seen her. I must confess that the case | |
would seem to me to be very black against her if it were not for one | |
thing." | |
"And what is that, Holmes?" | |
"The finding of the pistol in her wardrobe." | |
"Dear me, Holmes!" I cried, "that seemed to me to be the most damning | |
incident of all." | |
"Not so, Watson. It had struck me even at my first perfunctory | |
reading as very strange, and now that I am in closer touch with the | |
case it is my only firm ground for hope. We must look for | |
consistency. Where there is a want of it we must suspect deception." | |
"I hardly follow you." | |
"Well now, Watson, suppose for a moment that we visualize you in the | |
character of a woman who, in a cold, premeditated fashion, is about | |
to get rid of a rival. You have planned it. A note has been written. | |
The victim has come. You have your weapon. The crime is done. It has | |
been workmanlike and complete. Do you tell me that after carrying out | |
so crafty a crime you would now ruin your reputation as a criminal by | |
forgetting to fling your weapon into those adjacent reed-beds which | |
would forever cover it, but you must needs carry it carefully home | |
and put it in your own wardrobe, the very first place that would be | |
searched? Your best friends would hardly call you a schemer, Watson, | |
and yet I could not picture you doing anything so crude as that." | |
"In the excitement of the moment--" | |
"No, no, Watson, I will not admit that it is possible. Where a crime | |
is coolly premeditated, then the means of covering it are coolly | |
premeditated also. I hope, therefore, that we are in the presence of | |
a serious misconception." | |
"But there is so much to explain." | |
"Well, we shall set about explaining it. When once your point of view | |
is changed, the very thing which was so damning becomes a clue to the | |
truth. For example, there is this revolver. Miss Dunbar disclaims all | |
knowledge of it. On our new theory she is speaking truth when she | |
says so. Therefore, it was placed in her wardrobe. Who placed it | |
there? Someone who wished to incriminate her. Was not that person the | |
actual criminal? You see how we come at once upon a most fruitful | |
line of inquiry." | |
We were compelled to spend the night at Winchester, as the | |
formalities had not yet been completed, but next morning, in the | |
company of Mr. Joyce Cummings, the rising barrister who was entrusted | |
with the defence, we were allowed to see the young lady in her cell. | |
I had expected from all that we had heard to see a beautiful woman, | |
but I can never forget the effect which Miss Dunbar produced upon me. | |
It was no wonder that even the masterful millionaire had found in her | |
something more powerful than himself--something which could control | |
and guide him. One felt, too, as one looked at the strong, clear-cut, | |
and yet sensitive face, that even should she be capable of some | |
impetuous deed, none the less there was an innate nobility of | |
character which would make her influence always for the good. She was | |
a brunette, tall, with a noble figure and commanding presence, but | |
her dark eyes had in them the appealing, helpless expression of the | |
hunted creature who feels the nets around it, but can see no way out | |
from the toils. Now, as she realized the presence and the help of my | |
famous friend, there came a touch of colour in her wan cheeks and a | |
light of hope began to glimmer in the glance which she turned upon | |
us. | |
"Perhaps Mr. Neil Gibson has told you something of what occurred | |
between us?" she asked in a low, agitated voice. | |
"Yes," Holmes answered, "you need not pain yourself by entering into | |
that part of the story. After seeing you, I am prepared to accept Mr. | |
Gibson's statement both as to the influence which you had over him | |
and as to the innocence of your relations with him. But why was the | |
whole situation not brought out in court?" | |
"It seemed to me incredible that such a charge could be sustained. I | |
thought that if we waited the whole thing must clear itself up | |
without our being compelled to enter into painful details of the | |
inner life of the family. But I understand that far from clearing it | |
has become even more serious." | |
"My dear young lady," cried Holmes earnestly, "I beg you to have no | |
illusions upon the point. Mr. Cummings here would assure you that all | |
the cards are at present against us, and that we must do everything | |
that is possible if we are to win clear. It would be a cruel | |
deception to pretend that you are not in very great danger. Give me | |
all the help you can, then, to get at the truth." | |
"I will conceal nothing." | |
"Tell us, then, of your true relations with Mr. Gibson's wife." | |
"She hated me, Mr. Holmes. She hated me with all the fervour of her | |
tropical nature. She was a woman who would do nothing by halves, and | |
the measure of her love for her husband was the measure also of her | |
hatred for me. It is probable that she misunderstood our relations. I | |
would not wish to wrong her, but she loved so vividly in a physical | |
sense that she could hardly understand the mental, and even | |
spiritual, tie which held her husband to me, or imagine that it was | |
only my desire to influence his power to good ends which kept me | |
under his roof. I can see now that I was wrong. Nothing could justify | |
me in remaining where I was a cause of unhappiness, and yet it is | |
certain that the unhappiness would have remained even if I had left | |
the house." | |
"Now, Miss Dunbar," said Holmes, "I beg you to tell us exactly what | |
occurred that evening." | |
"I can tell you the truth so far as I know it, Mr. Holmes, but I am | |
in a position to prove nothing, and there are points--the most vital | |
points--which I can neither explain nor can I imagine any | |
explanation." | |
"If you will find the facts, perhaps others may find the | |
explanation." | |
"With regard, then, to my presence at Thor Bridge that night, I | |
received a note from Mrs. Gibson in the morning. It lay on the table | |
of the schoolroom, and it may have been left there by her own hand. | |
It implored me to see her there after dinner, said she had something | |
important to say to me, and asked me to leave an answer on the | |
sundial in the garden, as she desired no one to be in our confidence. | |
I saw no reason for such secrecy, but I did as she asked, accepting | |
the appointment. She asked me to destroy her note and I burned it in | |
the schoolroom grate. She was very much afraid of her husband, who | |
treated her with a harshness for which I frequently reproached him, | |
and I could only imagine that she acted in this way because she did | |
not wish him to know of our interview." | |
"Yet she kept your reply very carefully?" | |
"Yes. I was surprised to hear that she had it in her hand when she | |
died." | |
"Well, what happened then?" | |
"I went down as I had promised. When I reached the bridge she was | |
waiting for me. Never did I realize till that moment how this poor | |
creature hated me. She was like a mad woman--indeed, I think she was | |
a mad woman, subtly mad with the deep power of deception which insane | |
people may have. How else could she have met me with unconcern every | |
day and yet had so raging a hatred of me in her heart? I will not say | |
what she said. She poured her whole wild fury out in burning and | |
horrible words. I did not even answer--I could not. It was dreadful | |
to see her. I put my hands to my ears and rushed away. When I left | |
her she was standing, still shrieking out her curses at me, in the | |
mouth of the bridge." | |
"Where she was afterwards found?" | |
"Within a few yards from the spot." | |
"And yet, presuming that she met her death shortly after you left | |
her, you heard no shot?" | |
"No, I heard nothing. But, indeed, Mr. Holmes, I was so agitated and | |
horrified by this terrible outbreak that I rushed to get back to the | |
peace of my own room, and I was incapable of noticing anything which | |
happened." | |
"You say that you returned to your room. Did you leave it again | |
before next morning?" | |
"Yes, when the alarm came that the poor creature had met her death I | |
ran out with the others." | |
"Did you see Mr. Gibson?" | |
"Yes, he had just returned from the bridge when I saw him. He had | |
sent for the doctor and the police." | |
"Did he seem to you much perturbed?" | |
"Mr. Gibson is a very strong, self-contained man. I do not think that | |
he would ever show his emotions on the surface. But I, who knew him | |
so well, could see that he was deeply concerned." | |
"Then we come to the all-important point. This pistol that was found | |
in your room. Had you ever seen it before?" | |
"Never, I swear it." | |
"When was it found?" | |
"Next morning, when the police made their search." | |
"Among your clothes?" | |
"Yes, on the floor of my wardrobe under my dresses." | |
"You could not guess how long it had been there?" | |
"It had not been there the morning before." | |
"How do you know?" | |
"Because I tidied out the wardrobe." | |
"That is final. Then someone came into your room and placed the | |
pistol there in order to inculpate you." | |
"It must have been so." | |
"And when?" | |
"It could only have been at meal-time, or else at the hours when I | |
would be in the schoolroom with the children." | |
"As you were when you got the note?" | |
"Yes, from that time onward for the whole morning." | |
"Thank you, Miss Dunbar. Is there any other point which could help me | |
in the investigation?" | |
"I can think of none." | |
"There was some sign of violence on the stonework of the bridge--a | |
perfectly fresh chip just opposite the body. Could you suggest any | |
possible explanation of that?" | |
"Surely it must be a mere coincidence." | |
"Curious, Miss Dunbar, very curious. Why should it appear at the very | |
time of the tragedy, and why at the very place?" | |
"But what could have caused it? Only great violence could have such | |
an effect." | |
Holmes did not answer. His pale, eager face had suddenly assumed that | |
tense, far-away expression which I had learned to associate with the | |
supreme manifestations of his genius. So evident was the crisis in | |
his mind that none of us dared to speak, and we sat, barrister, | |
prisoner, and myself, watching him in a concentrated and absorbed | |
silence. Suddenly he sprang from his chair, vibrating with nervous | |
energy and the pressing need for action. | |
"Come, Watson, come!" he cried. | |
"What is it, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Never mind, my dear lady. You will hear from me, Mr. Cummings. With | |
the help of the god of justice I will give you a case which will make | |
England ring. You will get news by to-morrow, Miss Dunbar, and | |
meanwhile take my assurance that the clouds are lifting and that I | |
have every hope that the light of truth is breaking through." | |
It was not a long journey from Winchester to Thor Place, but it was | |
long to me in my impatience, while for Holmes it was evident that it | |
seemed endless; for, in his nervous restlessness, he could not sit | |
still, but paced the carriage or drummed with his long, sensitive | |
fingers upon the cushions beside him. Suddenly, however, as we neared | |
our destination he seated himself opposite to me--we had a | |
first-class carriage to ourselves--and laying a hand upon each of my | |
knees he looked into my eyes with the peculiarly mischievous gaze | |
which was characteristic of his more imp-like moods. | |
"Watson," said he, "I have some recollection that you go armed upon | |
these excursions of ours." | |
It was as well for him that I did so, for he took little care for his | |
own safety when his mind was once absorbed by a problem, so that more | |
than once my revolver had been a good friend in need. I reminded him | |
of the fact. | |
"Yes, yes, I am a little absent-minded in such matters. But have you | |
your revolver on you?" | |
I produced it from my hip-pocket, a short, handy, but very | |
serviceable little weapon. He undid the catch, shook out the | |
cartridges, and examined it with care. | |
"It's heavy--remarkably heavy," said he. | |
"Yes, it is a solid bit of work." | |
He mused over it for a minute. | |
"Do you know, Watson," said he, "I believe your revolver is going to | |
have a very intimate connection with the mystery which we are | |
investigating." | |
"My dear Holmes, you are joking." | |
"No, Watson, I am very serious. There is a test before us. If the | |
test comes off, all will be clear. And the test will depend upon the | |
conduct of this little weapon. One cartridge out. Now we will replace | |
the other five and put on the safety-catch. So! That increases the | |
weight and makes it a better reproduction." | |
I had no glimmer of what was in his mind, nor did he enlighten me, | |
but sat lost in thought until we pulled up in the little Hampshire | |
station. We secured a ramshackle trap, and in a quarter of an hour | |
were at the house of our confidential friend, the sergeant. | |
"A clue, Mr. Holmes? What is it?" | |
"It all depends upon the behaviour of Dr. Watson's revolver," said my | |
friend. "Here it is. Now, officer, can you give me ten yards of | |
string?" | |
The village shop provided a ball of stout twine. | |
"I think that this is all we will need," said Holmes. "Now, if you | |
please, we will get off on what I hope is the last stage of our | |
journey." | |
The sun was setting and turning the rolling Hampshire moor into a | |
wonderful autumnal panorama. The sergeant, with many critical and | |
incredulous glances, which showed his deep doubts of the sanity of my | |
companion, lurched along beside us. As we approached the scene of the | |
crime I could see that my friend under all his habitual coolness was | |
in truth deeply agitated. | |
"Yes," he said in answer to my remark, "you have seen me miss my mark | |
before, Watson. I have an instinct for such things, and yet it has | |
sometimes played me false. It seemed a certainty when first it | |
flashed across my mind in the cell at Winchester, but one drawback of | |
an active mind is that one can always conceive alternative | |
explanations which would make our scent a false one. And yet--and | |
yet-- Well, Watson, we can but try." | |
As he walked he had firmly tied one end of the string to the handle | |
of the revolver. We had now reached the scene of the tragedy. With | |
great care he marked out under the guidance of the policeman the | |
exact spot where the body had been stretched. He then hunted among | |
the heather and the ferns until he found a considerable stone. This | |
he secured to the other end of his line of string, and he hung it | |
over the parapet of the bridge so that it swung clear above the | |
water. He then stood on the fatal spot, some distance from the edge | |
of the bridge, with my revolver in his hand, the string being taut | |
between the weapon and the heavy stone on the farther side. | |
"Now for it!" he cried. | |
At the words he raised the pistol to his head, and then let go his | |
grip. In an instant it had been whisked away by the weight of the | |
stone, had struck with a sharp crack against the parapet, and had | |
vanished over the side into the water. It had hardly gone before | |
Holmes was kneeling beside the stonework, and a joyous cry showed | |
that he had found what he expected. | |
"Was there ever a more exact demonstration?" he cried. "See, Watson, | |
your revolver has solved the problem!" As he spoke he pointed to a | |
second chip of the exact size and shape of the first which had | |
appeared on the under edge of the stone balustrade. | |
"We'll stay at the inn to-night," he continued as he rose and faced | |
the astonished sergeant. "You will, of course, get a grappling-hook | |
and you will easily restore my friend's revolver. You will also find | |
beside it the revolver, string and weight with which this vindictive | |
woman attempted to disguise her own crime and to fasten a charge of | |
murder upon an innocent victim. You can let Mr. Gibson know that I | |
will see him in the morning, when steps can be taken for Miss | |
Dunbar's vindication." | |
Late that evening, as we sat together smoking our pipes in the | |
village inn, Holmes gave me a brief review of what had passed. | |
"I fear, Watson," said he, "that you will not improve any reputation | |
which I may have acquired by adding the case of the Thor Bridge | |
mystery to your annals. I have been sluggish in mind and wanting in | |
that mixture of imagination and reality which is the basis of my art. | |
I confess that the chip in the stonework was a sufficient clue to | |
suggest the true solution, and that I blame myself for not having | |
attained it sooner. | |
"It must be admitted that the workings of this unhappy woman's mind | |
were deep and subtle, so that it was no very simple matter to unravel | |
her plot. I do not think that in our adventures we have ever come | |
across a stranger example of what perverted love can bring about. | |
Whether Miss Dunbar was her rival in a physical or in a merely mental | |
sense seems to have been equally unforgivable in her eyes. No doubt | |
she blamed this innocent lady for all those harsh dealings and unkind | |
words with which her husband tried to repel her too demonstrative | |
affection. Her first resolution was to end her own life. Her second | |
was to do it in such a way as to involve her victim in a fate which | |
was worse far than any sudden death could be. | |
"We can follow the various steps quite clearly, and they show a | |
remarkable subtlety of mind. A note was extracted very cleverly from | |
Miss Dunbar which would make it appear that she had chosen the scene | |
of the crime. In her anxiety that it should be discovered she | |
somewhat overdid it by holding it in her hand to the last. This alone | |
should have excited my suspicions earlier than it did. | |
"Then she took one of her husband's revolvers--there was, as you saw, | |
an arsenal in the house--and kept it for her own use. A similar one | |
she concealed that morning in Miss Dunbar's wardrobe after | |
discharging one barrel, which she could easily do in the woods | |
without attracting attention. She then went down to the bridge where | |
she had contrived this exceedingly ingenious method for getting rid | |
of her weapon. When Miss Dunbar appeared she used her last breath in | |
pouring out her hatred, and then, when she was out of hearing, | |
carried out her terrible purpose. Every link is now in its place and | |
the chain is complete. The papers may ask why the mere was not | |
dragged in the first instance, but it is easy to be wise after the | |
event, and in any case the expanse of a reed-filled lake is no easy | |
matter to drag unless you have a clear perception of what you are | |
looking for and where. Well, Watson, we have helped a remarkable | |
woman, and also a formidable man. Should they in the future join | |
their forces, as seems not unlikely, the financial world may find | |
that Mr. Neil Gibson has learned something in that schoolroom of | |
sorrow where our earthly lessons are taught." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE CREEPING MAN | |
Mr. Sherlock Holmes was always of opinion that I should publish the | |
singular facts connected with Professor Presbury, if only to dispel | |
once for all the ugly rumours which some twenty years ago agitated | |
the university and were echoed in the learned societies of London. | |
There were, however, certain obstacles in the way, and the true | |
history of this curious case remained entombed in the tin box which | |
contains so many records of my friend's adventures. Now we have at | |
last obtained permission to ventilate the facts which formed one of | |
the very last cases handled by Holmes before his retirement from | |
practice. Even now a certain reticence and discretion have to be | |
observed in laying the matter before the public. | |
It was one Sunday evening early in September of the year 1903 that I | |
received one of Holmes's laconic messages: | |
Come at once if convenient--if inconvenient come all the same. | |
S. H. | |
The relations between us in those latter days were peculiar. He was a | |
man of habits, narrow and concentrated habits, and I had become one | |
of them. As an institution I was like the violin, the shag tobacco, | |
the old black pipe, the index books, and others perhaps less | |
excusable. When it was a case of active work and a comrade was needed | |
upon whose nerve he could place some reliance, my role was obvious. | |
But apart from this I had uses. I was a whetstone for his mind. I | |
stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence. His remarks | |
could hardly be said to be made to me--many of them would have been | |
as appropriately addressed to his bedstead--but none the less, having | |
formed the habit, it had become in some way helpful that I should | |
register and interject. If I irritated him by a certain methodical | |
slowness in my mentality, that irritation served only to make his own | |
flame-like intuitions and impressions flash up the more vividly and | |
swiftly. Such was my humble role in our alliance. | |
When I arrived at Baker Street I found him huddled up in his armchair | |
with updrawn knees, his pipe in his mouth and his brow furrowed with | |
thought. It was clear that he was in the throes of some vexatious | |
problem. With a wave of his hand he indicated my old armchair, but | |
otherwise for half an hour he gave no sign that he was aware of my | |
presence. Then with a start he seemed to come from his reverie, and | |
with his usual whimsical smile he greeted me back to what had once | |
been my home. | |
"You will excuse a certain abstraction of mind, my dear Watson," said | |
he. "Some curious facts have been submitted to me within the last | |
twenty-four hours, and they in turn have given rise to some | |
speculations of a more general character. I have serious thoughts of | |
writing a small monograph upon the uses of dogs in the work of the | |
detective." | |
"But surely, Holmes, this has been explored," said I. | |
"Bloodhounds--sleuth-hounds--" | |
"No, no, Watson, that side of the matter is, of course, obvious. But | |
there is another which is far more subtle. You may recollect that in | |
the case which you, in your sensational way, coupled with the Copper | |
Beeches, I was able, by watching the mind of the child, to form a | |
deduction as to the criminal habits of the very smug and respectable | |
father." | |
"Yes, I remember it well." | |
"My line of thoughts about dogs is analogous. A dog reflects the | |
family life. Whoever saw a frisky dog in a gloomy family, or a sad | |
dog in a happy one? Snarling people have snarling dogs, dangerous | |
people have dangerous ones. And their passing moods may reflect the | |
passing moods of others." | |
I shook my head. "Surely, Holmes, this is a little far-fetched," said | |
I. | |
He had refilled his pipe and resumed his seat, taking no notice of my | |
comment. | |
"The practical application of what I have said is very close to the | |
problem which I am investigating. It is a tangled skein, you | |
understand, and I am looking for a loose end. One possible loose end | |
lies in the question: Why does Professor Presbury's wolfhound, Roy, | |
endeavour to bite him?" | |
I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial | |
a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes | |
glanced across at me. | |
"The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest | |
issues may depend upon the smallest things. But is it not on the face | |
of it strange that a staid, elderly philosopher--you've heard of | |
Presbury, of course, the famous Camford physiologist?--that such a | |
man, whose friend has been his devoted wolfhound, should now have | |
been twice attacked by his own dog? What do you make of it?" | |
"The dog is ill." | |
"Well, that has to be considered. But he attacks no one else, nor | |
does he apparently molest his master, save on very special occasions. | |
Curious, Watson--very curious. But young Mr. Bennett is before his | |
time if that is his ring. I had hoped to have a longer chat with you | |
before he came." | |
There was a quick step on the stairs, a sharp tap at the door, and a | |
moment later the new client presented himself. He was a tall, | |
handsome youth about thirty, well dressed and elegant, but with | |
something in his bearing which suggested the shyness of the student | |
rather than the self-possession of the man of the world. He shook | |
hands with Holmes, and then looked with some surprise at me. | |
"This matter is very delicate, Mr. Holmes," he said. "Consider the | |
relation in which I stand to Professor Presbury both privately and | |
publicly. I really can hardly justify myself if I speak before any | |
third person." | |
"Have no fear, Mr. Bennett. Dr. Watson is the very soul of | |
discretion, and I can assure you that this is a matter in which I am | |
very likely to need an assistant." | |
"As you like, Mr. Holmes. You will, I am sure, understand my having | |
some reserves in the matter." | |
"You will appreciate it, Watson, when I tell you that this gentleman, | |
Mr. Trevor Bennett, is professional assistant to the great scientist, | |
lives under his roof, and is engaged to his only daughter. Certainly | |
we must agree that the professor has every claim upon his loyalty and | |
devotion. But it may best be shown by taking the necessary steps to | |
clear up this strange mystery." | |
"I hope so, Mr. Holmes. That is my one object. Does Dr. Watson know | |
the situation?" | |
"I have not had time to explain it." | |
"Then perhaps I had better go over the ground again before explaining | |
some fresh developments." | |
"I will do so myself," said Holmes, "in order to show that I have the | |
events in their due order. The professor, Watson, is a man of | |
European reputation. His life has been academic. There has never been | |
a breath of scandal. He is a widower with one daughter, Edith. He is, | |
I gather, a man of very virile and positive, one might almost say | |
combative, character. So the matter stood until a very few months | |
ago. | |
"Then the current of his life was broken. He is sixty-one years of | |
age, but he became engaged to the daughter of Professor Morphy, his | |
colleague in the chair of comparative anatomy. It was not, as I | |
understand, the reasoned courting of an elderly man but rather the | |
passionate frenzy of youth, for no one could have shown himself a | |
more devoted lover. The lady, Alice Morphy, was a very perfect girl | |
both in mind and body, so that there was every excuse for the | |
professor's infatuation. None the less, it did not meet with full | |
approval in his own family." | |
"We thought it rather excessive," said our visitor. | |
"Exactly. Excessive and a little violent and unnatural. Professor | |
Presbury was rich, however, and there was no objection upon the part | |
of the father. The daughter, however, had other views, and there were | |
already several candidates for her hand, who, if they were less | |
eligible from a worldly point of view, were at least more of an age. | |
The girl seemed to like the professor in spite of his eccentricities. | |
It was only age which stood in the way. | |
"About this time a little mystery suddenly clouded the normal routine | |
of the professor's life. He did what he had never done before. He | |
left home and gave no indication where he was going. He was away a | |
fortnight and returned looking rather travel-worn. He made no | |
allusion to where he had been, although he was usually the frankest | |
of men. It chanced, however, that our client here, Mr. Bennett, | |
received a letter from a fellow-student in Prague, who said that he | |
was glad to have seen Professor Presbury there, although he had not | |
been able to talk to him. Only in this way did his own household | |
learn where he had been. | |
"Now comes the point. From that time onward a curious change came | |
over the professor. He became furtive and sly. Those around him had | |
always the feeling that he was not the man that they had known, but | |
that he was under some shadow which had darkened his higher | |
qualities. His intellect was not affected. His lectures were as | |
brilliant as ever. But always there was something new, something | |
sinister and unexpected. His daughter, who was devoted to him, tried | |
again and again to resume the old relations and to penetrate this | |
mask which her father seemed to have put on. You, sir, as I | |
understand, did the same--but all was in vain. And now, Mr. Bennett, | |
tell in your own words the incident of the letters." | |
"You must understand, Dr. Watson, that the professor had no secrets | |
from me. If I were his son or his younger brother I could not have | |
more completely enjoyed his confidence. As his secretary I handled | |
every paper which came to him, and I opened and subdivided his | |
letters. Shortly after his return all this was changed. He told me | |
that certain letters might come to him from London which would be | |
marked by a cross under the stamp. These were to be set aside for his | |
own eyes only. I may say that several of these did pass through my | |
hands, that they had the E. C. mark, and were in an illiterate | |
handwriting. If he answered them at all the answers did not pass | |
through my hands nor into the letter-basket in which our | |
correspondence was collected." | |
"And the box," said Holmes. | |
"Ah, yes, the box. The professor brought back a little wooden box | |
from his travels. It was the one thing which suggested a Continental | |
tour, for it was one of those quaint carved things which one | |
associates with Germany. This he placed in his instrument cupboard. | |
One day, in looking for a canula, I took up the box. To my surprise | |
he was very angry, and reproved me in words which were quite savage | |
for my curiosity. It was the first time such a thing had happened, | |
and I was deeply hurt. I endeavoured to explain that it was a mere | |
accident that I had touched the box, but all the evening I was | |
conscious that he looked at me harshly and that the incident was | |
rankling in his mind." Mr. Bennett drew a little diary book from his | |
pocket. "That was on July 2d," said he. | |
"You are certainly an admirable witness," said Holmes. "I may need | |
some of these dates which you have noted." | |
"I learned method among other things from my great teacher. From the | |
time that I observed abnormality in his behaviour I felt that it was | |
my duty to study his case. Thus I have it here that it was on that | |
very day, July 2d, that Roy attacked the professor as he came from | |
his study into the hall. Again, on July 11th, there was a scene of | |
the same sort, and then I have a note of yet another upon July 20th. | |
After that we had to banish Roy to the stables. He was a dear, | |
affectionate animal--but I fear I weary you." | |
Mr. Bennett spoke in a tone of reproach, for it was very clear that | |
Holmes was not listening. His face was rigid and his eyes gazed | |
abstractedly at the ceiling. With an effort he recovered himself. | |
"Singular! Most singular!" he murmured. "These details were new to | |
me, Mr. Bennett. I think we have now fairly gone over the old ground, | |
have we not? But you spoke of some fresh developments." | |
The pleasant, open face of our visitor clouded over, shadowed by some | |
grim remembrance. "What I speak of occurred the night before last," | |
said he. "I was lying awake about two in the morning, when I was | |
aware of a dull muffled sound coming from the passage. I opened my | |
door and peeped out. I should explain that the professor sleeps at | |
the end of the passage--" | |
"The date being--?" asked Holmes. | |
Our visitor was clearly annoyed at so irrelevant an interruption. | |
"I have said, sir, that it was the night before last--that is, | |
September 4th." | |
Holmes nodded and smiled. | |
"Pray continue," said he. | |
"He sleeps at the end of the passage and would have to pass my door | |
in order to reach the staircase. It was a really terrifying | |
experience, Mr. Holmes. I think that I am as strong-nerved as my | |
neighbours, but I was shaken by what I saw. The passage was dark save | |
that one window halfway along it threw a patch of light. I could see | |
that something was coming along the passage, something dark and | |
crouching. Then suddenly it emerged into the light, and I saw that it | |
was he. He was crawling, Mr. Holmes--crawling! He was not quite on | |
his hands and knees. I should rather say on his hands and feet, with | |
his face sunk between his hands. Yet he seemed to move with ease. I | |
was so paralyzed by the sight that it was not until he had reached my | |
door that I was able to step forward and ask if I could assist him. | |
His answer was extraordinary. He sprang up, spat out some atrocious | |
word at me, and hurried on past me, and down the staircase. I waited | |
about for an hour, but he did not come back. It must have been | |
daylight before he regained his room." | |
"Well, Watson, what make you of that?" asked Holmes with the air of | |
the pathologist who presents a rare specimen. | |
"Lumbago, possibly. I have known a severe attack make a man walk in | |
just such a way, and nothing would be more trying to the temper." | |
"Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground. But we | |
can hardly accept lumbago, since he was able to stand erect in a | |
moment." | |
"He was never better in health," said Bennett. "In fact, he is | |
stronger than I have known him for years. But there are the facts, | |
Mr. Holmes. It is not a case in which we can consult the police, and | |
yet we are utterly at our wit's end as to what to do, and we feel in | |
some strange way that we are drifting towards disaster. Edith--Miss | |
Presbury--feels as I do, that we cannot wait passively any longer." | |
"It is certainly a very curious and suggestive case. What do you | |
think, Watson?" | |
"Speaking as a medical man," said I, "it appears to be a case for an | |
alienist. The old gentleman's cerebral processes were disturbed by | |
the love affair. He made a journey abroad in the hope of breaking | |
himself of the passion. His letters and the box may be connected with | |
some other private transaction--a loan, perhaps, or share | |
certificates, which are in the box." | |
"And the wolfhound no doubt disapproved of the financial bargain. No, | |
no, Watson, there is more in it than this. Now, I can only suggest--" | |
What Sherlock Holmes was about to suggest will never be known, for at | |
this moment the door opened and a young lady was shown into the room. | |
As she appeared Mr. Bennett sprang up with a cry and ran forward with | |
his hands out to meet those which she had herself outstretched. | |
"Edith, dear! Nothing the matter, I hope?" | |
"I felt I must follow you. Oh, Jack, I have been so dreadfully | |
frightened! It is awful to be there alone." | |
"Mr. Holmes, this is the young lady I spoke of. This is my fiancee." | |
"We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?" | |
Holmes answered with a smile. "I take it, Miss Presbury, that there | |
is some fresh development in the case, and that you thought we should | |
know?" | |
Our new visitor, a bright, handsome girl of a conventional English | |
type, smiled back at Holmes as she seated herself beside Mr. Bennett. | |
"When I found Mr. Bennett had left his hotel I thought I should | |
probably find him here. Of course, he had told me that he would | |
consult you. But, oh, Mr. Holmes, can you do nothing for my poor | |
father?" | |
"I have hopes, Miss Presbury, but the case is still obscure. Perhaps | |
what you have to say may throw some fresh light upon it." | |
"It was last night, Mr. Holmes. He had been very strange all day. I | |
am sure that there are times when he has no recollection of what he | |
does. He lives as in a strange dream. Yesterday was such a day. It | |
was not my father with whom I lived. His outward shell was there, but | |
it was not really he." | |
"Tell me what happened." | |
"I was awakened in the night by the dog barking most furiously. Poor | |
Roy, he is chained now near the stable. I may say that I always sleep | |
with my door locked; for, as Jack--as Mr. Bennett--will tell you, we | |
all have a feeling of impending danger. My room is on the second | |
floor. It happened that the blind was up in my window, and there was | |
bright moonlight outside. As I lay with my eyes fixed upon the square | |
of light, listening to the frenzied barkings of the dog, I was amazed | |
to see my father's face looking in at me. Mr. Holmes, I nearly died | |
of surprise and horror. There it was pressed against the window-pane, | |
and one hand seemed to be raised as if to push up the window. If that | |
window had opened, I think I should have gone mad. It was no | |
delusion, Mr. Holmes. Don't deceive yourself by thinking so. I dare | |
say it was twenty seconds or so that I lay paralyzed and watched the | |
face. Then it vanished, but I could not--I could not spring out of | |
bed and look out after it. I lay cold and shivering till morning. At | |
breakfast he was sharp and fierce in manner, and made no allusion to | |
the adventure of the night. Neither did I, but I gave an excuse for | |
coming to town--and here I am." | |
Holmes looked thoroughly surprised at Miss Presbury's narrative. | |
"My dear young lady, you say that your room is on the second floor. | |
Is there a long ladder in the garden?" | |
"No, Mr. Holmes, that is the amazing part of it. There is no possible | |
way of reaching the window--and yet he was there." | |
"The date being September 5th," said Holmes. "That certainly | |
complicates matters." | |
It was the young lady's turn to look surprised. "This is the second | |
time that you have alluded to the date, Mr. Holmes," said Bennett. | |
"Is it possible that it has any bearing upon the case?" | |
"It is possible--very possible--and yet I have not my full material | |
at present." | |
"Possibly you are thinking of the connection between insanity and | |
phases of the moon?" | |
"No, I assure you. It was quite a different line of thought. Possibly | |
you can leave your notebook with me, and I will check the dates. Now | |
I think, Watson, that our line of action is perfectly clear. This | |
young lady has informed us--and I have the greatest confidence in her | |
intuition--that her father remembers little or nothing which occurs | |
upon certain dates. We will therefore call upon him as if he had | |
given us an appointment upon such a date. He will put it down to his | |
own lack of memory. Thus we will open our campaign by having a good | |
close view of him." | |
"That is excellent," said Mr. Bennett. "I warn you, however, that the | |
professor is irascible and violent at times." | |
Holmes smiled. "There are reasons why we should come at once--very | |
cogent reasons if my theories hold good. To-morrow, Mr. Bennett, will | |
certainly see us in Camford. There is, if I remember right, an inn | |
called the Chequers where the port used to be above mediocrity and | |
the linen was above reproach. I think, Watson, that our lot for the | |
next few days might lie in less pleasant places." | |
Monday morning found us on our way to the famous university town--an | |
easy effort on the part of Holmes, who had no roots to pull up, but | |
one which involved frantic planning and hurrying on my part, as my | |
practice was by this time not inconsiderable. Holmes made no allusion | |
to the case until after we had deposited our suitcases at the ancient | |
hostel of which he had spoken. | |
"I think, Watson, that we can catch the professor just before lunch. | |
He lectures at eleven and should have an interval at home." | |
"What possible excuse have we for calling?" | |
Holmes glanced at his notebook. | |
"There was a period of excitement upon August 26th. We will assume | |
that he is a little hazy as to what he does at such times. If we | |
insist that we are there by appointment I think he will hardly | |
venture to contradict us. Have you the effrontery necessary to put it | |
through?" | |
"We can but try." | |
"Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can | |
but try--the motto of the firm. A friendly native will surely guide | |
us." | |
Such a one on the back of a smart hansom swept us past a row of | |
ancient colleges and, finally turning into a tree-lined drive, pulled | |
up at the door of a charming house, girt round with lawns and covered | |
with purple wisteria. Professor Presbury was certainly surrounded | |
with every sign not only of comfort but of luxury. Even as we pulled | |
up, a grizzled head appeared at the front window, and we were aware | |
of a pair of keen eyes from under shaggy brows which surveyed us | |
through large horn glasses. A moment later we were actually in his | |
sanctum, and the mysterious scientist, whose vagaries had brought us | |
from London, was standing before us. There was certainly no sign of | |
eccentricity either in his manner or appearance, for he was a portly, | |
large-featured man, grave, tall, and frock-coated, with the dignity | |
of bearing which a lecturer needs. His eyes were his most remarkable | |
feature, keen, observant, and clever to the verge of cunning. | |
He looked at our cards. "Pray sit down, gentlemen. What can I do for | |
you?" | |
Mr. Holmes smiled amiably. | |
"It was the question which I was about to put to you, Professor." | |
"To me, sir!" | |
"Possibly there is some mistake. I heard through a second person that | |
Professor Presbury of Camford had need of my services." | |
"Oh, indeed!" It seemed to me that there was a malicious sparkle in | |
the intense gray eyes. "You heard that, did you? May I ask the name | |
of your informant?" | |
"I am sorry, Professor, but the matter was rather confidential. If I | |
have made a mistake there is no harm done. I can only express my | |
regret." | |
"Not at all. I should wish to go further into this matter. It | |
interests me. Have you any scrap of writing, any letter or telegram, | |
to bear out your assertion?" | |
"No, I have not." | |
"I presume that you do not go so far as to assert that I summoned | |
you?" | |
"I would rather answer no questions," said Holmes. | |
"No, I dare say not," said the professor with asperity. "However, | |
that particular one can be answered very easily without your aid." | |
He walked across the room to the bell. Our London friend, Mr. | |
Bennett, answered the call. | |
"Come in, Mr. Bennett. These two gentlemen have come from London | |
under the impression that they have been summoned. You handle all my | |
correspondence. Have you a note of anything going to a person named | |
Holmes?" | |
"No, sir," Bennett answered with a flush. | |
"That is conclusive," said the professor, glaring angrily at my | |
companion. "Now, sir"--he leaned forward with his two hands upon the | |
table--"it seems to me that your position is a very questionable | |
one." | |
Holmes shrugged his shoulders. | |
"I can only repeat that I am sorry that we have made a needless | |
intrusion." | |
"Hardly enough, Mr. Holmes!" the old man cried in a high screaming | |
voice, with extraordinary malignancy upon his face. He got between us | |
and the door as he spoke, and he shook his two hands at us with | |
furious passion. "You can hardly get out of it so easily as that." | |
His face was convulsed, and he grinned and gibbered at us in his | |
senseless rage. I am convinced that we should have had to fight our | |
way out of the room if Mr. Bennett had not intervened. | |
"My dear Professor," he cried, "consider your position! Consider the | |
scandal at the university! Mr. Holmes is a well-known man. You cannot | |
possibly treat him with such discourtesy." | |
Sulkily our host--if I may call him so--cleared the path to the door. | |
We were glad to find ourselves outside the house and in the quiet of | |
the tree-lined drive. Holmes seemed greatly amused by the episode. | |
"Our learned friend's nerves are somewhat out of order," said he. | |
"Perhaps our intrusion was a little crude, and yet we have gained | |
that personal contact which I desired. But, dear me, Watson, he is | |
surely at our heels. The villain still pursues us." | |
There were the sounds of running feet behind, but it was, to my | |
relief, not the formidable professor but his assistant who appeared | |
round the curve of the drive. He came panting up to us. | |
"I am so sorry, Mr. Holmes. I wished to apologize." | |
"My dear sir, there is no need. It is all in the way of professional | |
experience." | |
"I have never seen him in a more dangerous mood. But he grows more | |
sinister. You can understand now why his daughter and I are alarmed. | |
And yet his mind is perfectly clear." | |
"Too clear!" said Holmes. "That was my miscalculation. It is evident | |
that his memory is much more reliable than I had thought. By the way, | |
can we, before we go, see the window of Miss Presbury's room?" | |
Mr. Bennett pushed his way through some shrubs, and we had a view of | |
the side of the house. | |
"It is there. The second on the left." | |
"Dear me, it seems hardly accessible. And yet you will observe that | |
there is a creeper below and a water-pipe above which give some | |
foothold." | |
"I could not climb it myself," said Mr. Bennett. | |
"Very likely. It would certainly be a dangerous exploit for any | |
normal man." | |
"There was one other thing I wish to tell you, Mr. Holmes. I have the | |
address of the man in London to whom the professor writes. He seems | |
to have written this morning, and I got it from his blotting-paper. | |
It is an ignoble position for a trusted secretary, but what else can | |
I do?" | |
Holmes glanced at the paper and put it into his pocket. | |
"Dorak--a curious name. Slavonic, I imagine. Well, it is an important | |
link in the chain. We return to London this afternoon, Mr. Bennett. I | |
see no good purpose to be served by our remaining. We cannot arrest | |
the professor because he has done no crime, nor can we place him | |
under constraint, for he cannot be proved to be mad. No action is as | |
yet possible." | |
"Then what on earth are we to do?" | |
"A little patience, Mr. Bennett. Things will soon develop. Unless I | |
am mistaken, next Tuesday may mark a crisis. Certainly we shall be in | |
Camford on that day. Meanwhile, the general position is undeniably | |
unpleasant, and if Miss Presbury can prolong her visit--" | |
"That is easy." | |
"Then let her stay till we can assure her that all danger is past. | |
Meanwhile, let him have his way and do not cross him. So long as he | |
is in a good humour all is well." | |
"There he is!" said Bennett in a startled whisper. Looking between | |
the branches we saw the tall, erect figure emerge from the hall door | |
and look around him. He stood leaning forward, his hands swinging | |
straight before him, his head turning from side to side. The | |
secretary with a last wave slipped off among the trees, and we saw | |
him presently rejoin his employer, the two entering the house | |
together in what seemed to be animated and even excited conversation. | |
"I expect the old gentleman has been putting two and two together," | |
said Holmes as we walked hotelward. "He struck me as having a | |
particularly clear and logical brain from the little I saw of him. | |
Explosive, no doubt, but then from his point of view he has something | |
to explode about if detectives are put on his track and he suspects | |
his own household of doing it. I rather fancy that friend Bennett is | |
in for an uncomfortable time." | |
Holmes stopped at a post-office and sent off a telegram on our way. | |
The answer reached us in the evening, and he tossed it across to me. | |
Have visited the Commercial Road and seen Dorak. Suave person, | |
Bohemian, elderly. Keeps large general store. | |
Mercer. | |
"Mercer is since your time," said Holmes. "He is my general utility | |
man who looks up routine business. It was important to know something | |
of the man with whom our professor was so secretly corresponding. His | |
nationality connects up with the Prague visit." | |
"Thank goodness that something connects with something," said I. "At | |
present we seem to be faced by a long series of inexplicable | |
incidents with no bearing upon each other. For example, what possible | |
connection can there be between an angry wolfhound and a visit to | |
Bohemia, or either of them with a man crawling down a passage at | |
night? As to your dates, that is the biggest mystification of all." | |
Holmes smiled and rubbed his hands. We were, I may say, seated in the | |
old sitting-room of the ancient hotel, with a bottle of the famous | |
vintage of which Holmes had spoken on the table between us. | |
"Well, now, let us take the dates first," said he, his finger-tips | |
together and his manner as if he were addressing a class. "This | |
excellent young man's diary shows that there was trouble upon July | |
2d, and from then onward it seems to have been at nine-day intervals, | |
with, so far as I remember, only one exception. Thus the last | |
outbreak upon Friday was on September 3d, which also falls into the | |
series, as did August 26th, which preceded it. The thing is beyond | |
coincidence." | |
I was forced to agree. | |
"Let us, then, form the provisional theory that every nine days the | |
professor takes some strong drug which has a passing but highly | |
poisonous effect. His naturally violent nature is intensified by it. | |
He learned to take this drug while he was in Prague, and is now | |
supplied with it by a Bohemian intermediary in London. This all hangs | |
together, Watson!" | |
"But the dog, the face at the window, the creeping man in the | |
passage?" | |
"Well, well, we have made a beginning. I should not expect any fresh | |
developments until next Tuesday. In the meantime we can only keep in | |
touch with friend Bennett and enjoy the amenities of this charming | |
town." | |
In the morning Mr. Bennett slipped round to bring us the latest | |
report. As Holmes had imagined, times had not been easy with him. | |
Without exactly accusing him of being responsible for our presence, | |
the professor had been very rough and rude in his speech, and | |
evidently felt some strong grievance. This morning he was quite | |
himself again, however, and had delivered his usual brilliant lecture | |
to a crowded class. "Apart from his queer fits," said Bennett, "he | |
has actually more energy and vitality than I can ever remember, nor | |
was his brain ever clearer. But it's not he--it's never the man whom | |
we have known." | |
"I don't think you have anything to fear now for a week at least," | |
Holmes answered. "I am a busy man, and Dr. Watson has his patients to | |
attend to. Let us agree that we meet here at this hour next Tuesday, | |
and I shall be surprised if before we leave you again we are not able | |
to explain, even if we cannot perhaps put an end to, your troubles. | |
Meanwhile, keep us posted in what occurs." | |
I saw nothing of my friend for the next few days, but on the | |
following Monday evening I had a short note asking me to meet him | |
next day at the train. From what he told me as we travelled up to | |
Camford all was well, the peace of the professor's house had been | |
unruffled, and his own conduct perfectly normal. This also was the | |
report which was given us by Mr. Bennett himself when he called upon | |
us that evening at our old quarters in the Chequers. "He heard from | |
his London correspondent to-day. There was a letter and there was a | |
small packet, each with the cross under the stamp which warned me not | |
to touch them. There has been nothing else." | |
"That may prove quite enough," said Holmes grimly. "Now, Mr. Bennett, | |
we shall, I think, come to some conclusion to-night. If my deductions | |
are correct we should have an opportunity of bringing matters to a | |
head. In order to do so it is necessary to hold the professor under | |
observation. I would suggest, therefore, that you remain awake and on | |
the lookout. Should you hear him pass your door, do not interrupt | |
him, but follow him as discreetly as you can. Dr. Watson and I will | |
not be far off. By the way, where is the key of that little box of | |
which you spoke?" | |
"Upon his watch-chain." | |
"I fancy our researches must lie in that direction. At the worst the | |
lock should not be very formidable. Have you any other able-bodied | |
man on the premises?" | |
"There is the coachman, Macphail." | |
"Where does he sleep?" | |
"Over the stables." | |
"We might possibly want him. Well, we can do no more until we see how | |
things develop. Good-bye--but I expect that we shall see you before | |
morning." | |
It was nearly midnight before we took our station among some bushes | |
immediately opposite the hall door of the professor. It was a fine | |
night, but chilly, and we were glad of our warm overcoats. There was | |
a breeze, and clouds were scudding across the sky, obscuring from | |
time to time the half-moon. It would have been a dismal vigil were it | |
not for the expectation and excitement which carried us along, and | |
the assurance of my comrade that we had probably reached the end of | |
the strange sequence of events which had engaged our attention. | |
"If the cycle of nine days holds good then we shall have the | |
professor at his worst to-night," said Holmes. "The fact that these | |
strange symptoms began after his visit to Prague, that he is in | |
secret correspondence with a Bohemian dealer in London, who | |
presumably represents someone in Prague, and that he received a | |
packet from him this very day, all point in one direction. What he | |
takes and why he takes it are still beyond our ken, but that it | |
emanates in some way from Prague is clear enough. He takes it under | |
definite directions which regulate this ninth-day system, which was | |
the first point which attracted my attention. But his symptoms are | |
most remarkable. Did you observe his knuckles?" | |
I had to confess that I did not. | |
"Thick and horny in a way which is quite new in my experience. Always | |
look at the hands first, Watson. Then cuffs, trouser-knees, and | |
boots. Very curious knuckles which can only be explained by the mode | |
of progression observed by--" Holmes paused and suddenly clapped his | |
hand to his forehead. "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been! | |
It seems incredible, and yet it must be true. All points in one | |
direction. How could I miss seeing the connection of ideas? Those | |
knuckles--how could I have passed those knuckles? And the dog! And | |
the ivy! It's surely time that I disappeared into that little farm of | |
my dreams. Look out, Watson! Here he is! We shall have the chance of | |
seeing for ourselves." | |
The hall door had slowly opened, and against the lamplit background | |
we saw the tall figure of Professor Presbury. He was clad in his | |
dressing-gown. As he stood outlined in the doorway he was erect but | |
leaning forward with dangling arms, as when we saw him last. | |
Now he stepped forward into the drive, and an extraordinary change | |
came over him. He sank down into a crouching position and moved along | |
upon his hands and feet, skipping every now and then as if he were | |
overflowing with energy and vitality. He moved along the face of the | |
house and then round the corner. As he disappeared Bennett slipped | |
through the hall door and softly followed him. | |
"Come, Watson, come!" cried Holmes, and we stole as softly as we | |
could through the bushes until we had gained a spot whence we could | |
see the other side of the house, which was bathed in the light of the | |
half-moon. The professor was clearly visible crouching at the foot of | |
the ivy-covered wall. As we watched him he suddenly began with | |
incredible agility to ascend it. From branch to branch he sprang, | |
sure of foot and firm of grasp, climbing apparently in mere joy at | |
his own powers, with no definite object in view. With his | |
dressing-gown flapping on each side of him, he looked like some huge | |
bat glued against the side of his own house, a great square dark | |
patch upon the moonlit wall. Presently he tired of this amusement, | |
and, dropping from branch to branch, he squatted down into the old | |
attitude and moved towards the stables, creeping along in the same | |
strange way as before. The wolfhound was out now, barking furiously, | |
and more excited than ever when it actually caught sight of its | |
master. It was straining on its chain and quivering with eagerness | |
and rage. The professor squatted down very deliberately just out of | |
reach of the hound and began to provoke it in every possible way. He | |
took handfuls of pebbles from the drive and threw them in the dog's | |
face, prodded him with a stick which he had picked up, flicked his | |
hands about only a few inches from the gaping mouth, and endeavoured | |
in every way to increase the animal's fury, which was already beyond | |
all control. In all our adventures I do not know that I have ever | |
seen a more strange sight than this impassive and still dignified | |
figure crouching frog-like upon the ground and goading to a wilder | |
exhibition of passion the maddened hound, which ramped and raged in | |
front of him, by all manner of ingenious and calculated cruelty. | |
And then in a moment it happened! It was not the chain that broke, | |
but it was the collar that slipped, for it had been made for a | |
thick-necked Newfoundland. We heard the rattle of falling metal, and | |
the next instant dog and man were rolling on the ground together, the | |
one roaring in rage, the other screaming in a strange shrill falsetto | |
of terror. It was a very narrow thing for the professor's life. The | |
savage creature had him fairly by the throat, its fangs had bitten | |
deep, and he was senseless before we could reach them and drag the | |
two apart. It might have been a dangerous task for us, but Bennett's | |
voice and presence brought the great wolfhound instantly to reason. | |
The uproar had brought the sleepy and astonished coachman from his | |
room above the stables. "I'm not surprised," said he, shaking his | |
head. "I've seen him at it before. I knew the dog would get him | |
sooner or later." | |
The hound was secured, and together we carried the professor up to | |
his room, where Bennett, who had a medical degree, helped me to dress | |
his torn throat. The sharp teeth had passed dangerously near the | |
carotid artery, and the haemorrhage was serious. In half an hour the | |
danger was past, I had given the patient an injection of morphia, and | |
he had sunk into deep sleep. Then, and only then, were we able to | |
look at each other and to take stock of the situation. | |
"I think a first-class surgeon should see him," said I. | |
"For God's sake, no!" cried Bennett. "At present the scandal is | |
confined to our own household. It is safe with us. If it gets beyond | |
these walls it will never stop. Consider his position at the | |
university, his European reputation, the feelings of his daughter." | |
"Quite so," said Holmes. "I think it may be quite possible to keep | |
the matter to ourselves, and also to prevent its recurrence now that | |
we have a free hand. The key from the watch-chain, Mr. Bennett. | |
Macphail will guard the patient and let us know if there is any | |
change. Let us see what we can find in the professor's mysterious | |
box." | |
There was not much, but there was enough--an empty phial, another | |
nearly full, a hypodermic syringe, several letters in a crabbed, | |
foreign hand. The marks on the envelopes showed that they were those | |
which had disturbed the routine of the secretary, and each was dated | |
from the Commercial Road and signed "A. Dorak." They were mere | |
invoices to say that a fresh bottle was being sent to Professor | |
Presbury, or receipt to acknowledge money. There was one other | |
envelope, however, in a more educated hand and bearing the Austrian | |
stamp with the postmark of Prague. "Here we have our material!" cried | |
Holmes as he tore out the enclosure. | |
Honoured Colleague [it ran]: | |
Since your esteemed visit I have thought much of your case, and | |
though in your circumstances there are some special reasons for the | |
treatment, I would none the less enjoin caution, as my results have | |
shown that it is not without danger of a kind. | |
It is possible that the serum of anthropoid would have been better. I | |
have, as I explained to you, used black-faced langur because a | |
specimen was accessible. Langur is, of course, a crawler and climber, | |
while anthropoid walks erect and is in all ways nearer. | |
I beg you to take every possible precaution that there be no | |
premature revelation of the process. I have one other client in | |
England, and Dorak is my agent for both. | |
Weekly reports will oblige. | |
Yours with high esteem, | |
H. Lowenstein. | |
Lowenstein! The name brought back to me the memory of some snippet | |
from a newspaper which spoke of an obscure scientist who was striving | |
in some unknown way for the secret of rejuvenescence and the elixir | |
of life. Lowenstein of Prague! Lowenstein with the wondrous | |
strength-giving serum, tabooed by the profession because he refused | |
to reveal its source. In a few words I said what I remembered. | |
Bennett had taken a manual of zoology from the shelves. "'Langur,'" | |
he read, "'the great black-faced monkey of the Himalayan slopes, | |
biggest and most human of climbing monkeys.' Many details are added. | |
Well, thanks to you, Mr. Holmes, it is very clear that we have traced | |
the evil to its source." | |
"The real source," said Holmes, "lies, of course, in that untimely | |
love affair which gave our impetuous professor the idea that he could | |
only gain his wish by turning himself into a younger man. When one | |
tries to rise above Nature one is liable to fall below it. The | |
highest type of man may revert to the animal if he leaves the | |
straight road of destiny." He sat musing for a little with the phial | |
in his hand, looking at the clear liquid within. "When I have written | |
to this man and told him that I hold him criminally responsible for | |
the poisons which he circulates, we will have no more trouble. But it | |
may recur. Others may find a better way. There is danger there--a | |
very real danger to humanity. Consider, Watson, that the material, | |
the sensual, the worldly would all prolong their worthless lives. The | |
spiritual would not avoid the call to something higher. It would be | |
the survival of the least fit. What sort of cesspool may not our poor | |
world become?" Suddenly the dreamer disappeared, and Holmes, the man | |
of action, sprang from his chair. "I think there is nothing more to | |
be said, Mr. Bennett. The various incidents will now fit themselves | |
easily into the general scheme. The dog, of course, was aware of the | |
change far more quickly than you. His smell would insure that. It was | |
the monkey, not the professor, whom Roy attacked, just as it was the | |
monkey who teased Roy. Climbing was a joy to the creature, and it was | |
a mere chance, I take it, that the pastime brought him to the young | |
lady's window. There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think | |
we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we | |
catch it." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE LION'S MANE | |
It is a most singular thing that a problem which was certainly as | |
abstruse and unusual as any which I have faced in my long | |
professional career should have come to me after my retirement, and | |
be brought, as it were, to my very door. It occurred after my | |
withdrawal to my little Sussex home, when I had given myself up | |
entirely to that soothing life of Nature for which I had so often | |
yearned during the long years spent amid the gloom of London. At this | |
period of my life the good Watson had passed almost beyond my ken. An | |
occasional week-end visit was the most that I ever saw of him. Thus I | |
must act as my own chronicler. Ah! had he but been with me, how much | |
he might have made of so wonderful a happening and of my eventual | |
triumph against every difficulty! As it is, however, I must needs | |
tell my tale in my own plain way, showing by my words each step upon | |
the difficult road which lay before me as I searched for the mystery | |
of the Lion's Mane. | |
My villa is situated upon the southern slope of the downs, commanding | |
a great view of the Channel. At this point the coast-line is entirely | |
of chalk cliffs, which can only be descended by a single, long, | |
tortuous path, which is steep and slippery. At the bottom of the path | |
lie a hundred yards of pebbles and shingle, even when the tide is at | |
full. Here and there, however, there are curves and hollows which | |
make splendid swimming-pools filled afresh with each flow. This | |
admirable beach extends for some miles in each direction, save only | |
at one point where the little cove and village of Fulworth break the | |
line. | |
My house is lonely. I, my old housekeeper, and my bees have the | |
estate all to ourselves. Half a mile off, however, is Harold | |
Stackhurst's well-known coaching establishment, The Gables, quite a | |
large place, which contains some score of young fellows preparing for | |
various professions, with a staff of several masters. Stackhurst | |
himself was a well-known rowing Blue in his day, and an excellent | |
all-round scholar. He and I were always friendly from the day I came | |
to the coast, and he was the one man who was on such terms with me | |
that we could drop in on each other in the evenings without an | |
invitation. | |
Towards the end of July, 1907, there was a severe gale, the wind | |
blowing up-channel, heaping the seas to the base of the cliffs and | |
leaving a lagoon at the turn of the tide. On the morning of which I | |
speak the wind had abated, and all Nature was newly washed and fresh. | |
It was impossible to work upon so delightful a day, and I strolled | |
out before breakfast to enjoy the exquisite air. I walked along the | |
cliff path which led to the steep descent to the beach. As I walked I | |
heard a shout behind me, and there was Harold Stackhurst waving his | |
hand in cheery greeting. | |
"What a morning, Mr. Holmes! I thought I should see you out." | |
"Going for a swim, I see." | |
"At your old tricks again," he laughed, patting his bulging pocket. | |
"Yes. McPherson started early, and I expect I may find him there." | |
Fitzroy McPherson was the science master, a fine upstanding young | |
fellow whose life had been crippled by heart trouble following | |
rheumatic fever. He was a natural athlete, however, and excelled in | |
every game which did not throw too great a strain upon him. Summer | |
and winter he went for his swim, and, as I am a swimmer myself, I | |
have often joined him. | |
At this moment we saw the man himself. His head showed above the edge | |
of the cliff where the path ends. Then his whole figure appeared at | |
the top, staggering like a drunken man. The next instant he threw up | |
his hands and, with a terrible cry, fell upon his face. Stackhurst | |
and I rushed forward--it may have been fifty yards--and turned him on | |
his back. He was obviously dying. Those glazed sunken eyes and | |
dreadful livid cheeks could mean nothing else. One glimmer of life | |
came into his face for an instant, and he uttered two or three words | |
with an eager air of warning. They were slurred and indistinct, but | |
to my ear the last of them, which burst in a shriek from his lips, | |
were "the Lion's Mane." It was utterly irrelevant and unintelligible, | |
and yet I could twist the sound into no other sense. Then he half | |
raised himself from the ground, threw his arms into the air, and fell | |
forward on his side. He was dead. | |
My companion was paralyzed by the sudden horror of it, but I, as may | |
well be imagined, had every sense on the alert. And I had need, for | |
it was speedily evident that we were in the presence of an | |
extraordinary case. The man was dressed only in his Burberry | |
overcoat, his trousers, and an unlaced pair of canvas shoes. As he | |
fell over, his Burberry, which had been simply thrown round his | |
shoulders, slipped off, exposing his trunk. We stared at it in | |
amazement. His back was covered with dark red lines as though he had | |
been terribly flogged by a thin wire scourge. The instrument with | |
which this punishment had been inflicted was clearly flexible, for | |
the long, angry weals curved round his shoulders and ribs. There was | |
blood dripping down his chin, for he had bitten through his lower lip | |
in the paroxysm of his agony. His drawn and distorted face told how | |
terrible that agony had been. | |
I was kneeling and Stackhurst standing by the body when a shadow fell | |
across us, and we found that Ian Murdoch was by our side. Murdoch was | |
the mathematical coach at the establishment, a tall, dark, thin man, | |
so taciturn and aloof that none can be said to have been his friend. | |
He seemed to live in some high, abstract region of surds and conic | |
sections, with little to connect him with ordinary life. He was | |
looked upon as an oddity by the students, and would have been their | |
butt, but there was some strange outlandish blood in the man, which | |
showed itself not only in his coal-black eyes and swarthy face but | |
also in occasional outbreaks of temper, which could only be described | |
as ferocious. On one occasion, being plagued by a little dog | |
belonging to McPherson, he had caught the creature up and hurled it | |
through the plate-glass window, an action for which Stackhurst would | |
certainly have given him his dismissal had he not been a very | |
valuable teacher. Such was the strange complex man who now appeared | |
beside us. He seemed to be honestly shocked at the sight before him, | |
though the incident of the dog may show that there was no great | |
sympathy between the dead man and himself. | |
"Poor fellow! Poor fellow! What can I do? How can I help?" | |
"Were you with him? Can you tell us what has happened?" | |
"No, no, I was late this morning. I was not on the beach at all. I | |
have come straight from The Gables. What can I do?" | |
"You can hurry to the police-station at Fulworth. Report the matter | |
at once." | |
Without a word he made off at top speed, and I proceeded to take the | |
matter in hand, while Stackhurst, dazed at this tragedy, remained by | |
the body. My first task naturally was to note who was on the beach. | |
From the top of the path I could see the whole sweep of it, and it | |
was absolutely deserted save that two or three dark figures could be | |
seen far away moving towards the village of Fulworth. Having | |
satisfied myself upon this point, I walked slowly down the path. | |
There was clay or soft marl mixed with the chalk, and every here and | |
there I saw the same footstep, both ascending and descending. No one | |
else had gone down to the beach by this track that morning. At one | |
place I observed the print of an open hand with the fingers towards | |
the incline. This could only mean that poor McPherson had fallen as | |
he ascended. There were rounded depressions, too, which suggested | |
that he had come down upon his knees more than once. At the bottom of | |
the path was the considerable lagoon left by the retreating tide. At | |
the side of it McPherson had undressed, for there lay his towel on a | |
rock. It was folded and dry, so that it would seem that, after all, | |
he had never entered the water. Once or twice as I hunted round amid | |
the hard shingle I came on little patches of sand where the print of | |
his canvas shoe, and also of his naked foot, could be seen. The | |
latter fact proved that he had made all ready to bathe, though the | |
towel indicated that he had not actually done so. | |
And here was the problem clearly defined--as strange a one as had | |
ever confronted me. The man had not been on the beach more than a | |
quarter of an hour at the most. Stackhurst had followed him from The | |
Gables, so there could be no doubt about that. He had gone to bathe | |
and had stripped, as the naked footsteps showed. Then he had suddenly | |
huddled on his clothes again--they were all dishevelled and | |
unfastened--and he had returned without bathing, or at any rate | |
without drying himself. And the reason for his change of purpose had | |
been that he had been scourged in some savage, inhuman fashion, | |
tortured until he bit his lip through in his agony, and was left with | |
only strength enough to crawl away and to die. Who had done this | |
barbarous deed? There were, it is true, small grottos and caves in | |
the base of the cliffs, but the low sun shone directly into them, and | |
there was no place for concealment. Then, again, there were those | |
distant figures on the beach. They seemed too far away to have been | |
connected with the crime, and the broad lagoon in which McPherson had | |
intended to bathe lay between him and them, lapping up to the rocks. | |
On the sea two or three fishing-boats were at no great distance. | |
Their occupants might be examined at our leisure. There were several | |
roads for inquiry, but none which led to any very obvious goal. | |
When I at last returned to the body I found that a little group of | |
wondering folk had gathered round it. Stackhurst was, of course, | |
still there, and Ian Murdoch had just arrived with Anderson, the | |
village constable, a big, ginger-moustached man of the slow, solid | |
Sussex breed--a breed which covers much good sense under a heavy, | |
silent exterior. He listened to everything, took note of all we said, | |
and finally drew me aside. | |
"I'd be glad of your advice, Mr. Holmes. This is a big thing for me | |
to handle, and I'll hear of it from Lewes if I go wrong." | |
I advised him to send for his immediate superior, and for a doctor; | |
also to allow nothing to be moved, and as few fresh footmarks as | |
possible to be made, until they came. In the meantime I searched the | |
dead man's pockets. There were his handkerchief, a large knife, and a | |
small folding card-case. From this projected a slip of paper, which I | |
unfolded and handed to the constable. There was written on it in a | |
scrawling, feminine hand: | |
I will be there, you may be sure. | |
Maudie. | |
It read like a love affair, an assignation, though when and where | |
were a blank. The constable replaced it in the card-case and returned | |
it with the other things to the pockets of the Burberry. Then, as | |
nothing more suggested itself, I walked back to my house for | |
breakfast, having first arranged that the base of the cliffs should | |
be thoroughly searched. | |
Stackhurst was round in an hour or two to tell me that the body had | |
been removed to The Gables, where the inquest would be held. He | |
brought with him some serious and definite news. As I expected, | |
nothing had been found in the small caves below the cliff, but he had | |
examined the papers in McPherson's desk, and there were several which | |
showed an intimate correspondence with a certain Miss Maud Bellamy, | |
of Fulworth. We had then established the identity of the writer of | |
the note. | |
"The police have the letters," he explained. "I could not bring them. | |
But there is no doubt that it was a serious love affair. I see no | |
reason, however, to connect it with that horrible happening save, | |
indeed, that the lady had made an appointment with him." | |
"But hardly at a bathing-pool which all of you were in the habit of | |
using," I remarked. | |
"It is mere chance," said he, "that several of the students were not | |
with McPherson." | |
"Was it mere chance?" | |
Stackhurst knit his brows in thought. | |
"Ian Murdoch held them back," said he. "He would insist upon some | |
algebraic demonstration before breakfast. Poor chap, he is dreadfully | |
cut up about it all." | |
"And yet I gather that they were not friends." | |
"At one time they were not. But for a year or more Murdoch has been | |
as near to McPherson as he ever could be to anyone. He is not of a | |
very sympathetic disposition by nature." | |
"So I understand. I seem to remember your telling me once about a | |
quarrel over the ill-usage of a dog." | |
"That blew over all right." | |
"But left some vindictive feeling, perhaps." | |
"No, no, I am sure they were real friends." | |
"Well, then, we must explore the matter of the girl. Do you know | |
her?" | |
"Everyone knows her. She is the beauty of the neighbourhood--a real | |
beauty, Holmes, who would draw attention everywhere. I knew that | |
McPherson was attracted by her, but I had no notion that it had gone | |
so far as these letters would seem to indicate." | |
"But who is she?" | |
"She is the daughter of old Tom Bellamy, who owns all the boats and | |
bathing-cots at Fulworth. He was a fisherman to start with, but is | |
now a man of some substance. He and his son William run the | |
business." | |
"Shall we walk into Fulworth and see them?" | |
"On what pretext?" | |
"Oh, we can easily find a pretext. After all, this poor man did not | |
ill-use himself in this outrageous way. Some human hand was on the | |
handle of that scourge, if indeed it was a scourge which inflicted | |
the injuries. His circle of acquaintances in this lonely place was | |
surely limited. Let us follow it up in every direction and we can | |
hardly fail to come upon the motive, which in turn should lead us to | |
the criminal." | |
It would have been a pleasant walk across the thyme-scented downs had | |
our minds not been poisoned by the tragedy we had witnessed. The | |
village of Fulworth lies in a hollow curving in a semicircle round | |
the bay. Behind the old-fashioned hamlet several modern houses have | |
been built upon the rising ground. It was to one of these that | |
Stackhurst guided me. | |
"That's The Haven, as Bellamy called it. The one with the corner | |
tower and slate roof. Not bad for a man who started with nothing | |
but-- By Jove, look at that!" | |
The garden gate of The Haven had opened and a man had emerged. There | |
was no mistaking that tall, angular, straggling figure. It was Ian | |
Murdoch, the mathematician. A moment later we confronted him upon the | |
road. | |
"Hullo!" said Stackhurst. The man nodded, gave us a sideways glance | |
from his curious dark eyes, and would have passed us, but his | |
principal pulled him up. | |
"What were you doing there?" he asked. | |
Murdoch's face flushed with anger. "I am your subordinate, sir, under | |
your roof. I am not aware that I owe you any account of my private | |
actions." | |
Stackhurst's nerves were near the surface after all he had endured. | |
Otherwise, perhaps, he would have waited. Now he lost his temper | |
completely. | |
"In the circumstances your answer is pure impertinence, Mr. Murdoch." | |
"Your own question might perhaps come under the same heading." | |
"This is not the first time that I have had to overlook your | |
insubordinate ways. It will certainly be the last. You will kindly | |
make fresh arrangements for your future as speedily as you can." | |
"I had intended to do so. I have lost to-day the only person who made | |
The Gables habitable." | |
He strode off upon his way, while Stackhurst, with angry eyes, stood | |
glaring after him. "Is he not an impossible, intolerable man?" he | |
cried. | |
The one thing that impressed itself forcibly upon my mind was that | |
Mr. Ian Murdoch was taking the first chance to open a path of escape | |
from the scene of the crime. Suspicion, vague and nebulous, was now | |
beginning to take outline in my mind. Perhaps the visit to the | |
Bellamys might throw some further light upon the matter. Stackhurst | |
pulled himself together, and we went forward to the house. | |
Mr. Bellamy proved to be a middle-aged man with a flaming red beard. | |
He seemed to be in a very angry mood, and his face was soon as florid | |
as his hair. | |
"No, sir, I do not desire any particulars. My son here"--indicating a | |
powerful young man, with a heavy, sullen face, in the corner of the | |
sitting-room--"is of one mind with me that Mr. McPherson's attentions | |
to Maud were insulting. Yes, sir, the word 'marriage' was never | |
mentioned, and yet there were letters and meetings, and a great deal | |
more of which neither of us could approve. She has no mother, and we | |
are her only guardians. We are determined--" | |
But the words were taken from his mouth by the appearance of the lady | |
herself. There was no gainsaying that she would have graced any | |
assembly in the world. Who could have imagined that so rare a flower | |
would grow from such a root and in such an atmosphere? Women have | |
seldom been an attraction to me, for my brain has always governed my | |
heart, but I could not look upon her perfect clear-cut face, with all | |
the soft freshness of the downlands in her delicate colouring, | |
without realizing that no young man would cross her path unscathed. | |
Such was the girl who had pushed open the door and stood now, | |
wide-eyed and intense, in front of Harold Stackhurst. | |
"I know already that Fitzroy is dead," she said. "Do not be afraid to | |
tell me the particulars." | |
"This other gentleman of yours let us know the news," explained the | |
father. | |
"There is no reason why my sister should be brought into the matter," | |
growled the younger man. | |
The sister turned a sharp, fierce look upon him. "This is my | |
business, William. Kindly leave me to manage it in my own way. By all | |
accounts there has been a crime committed. If I can help to show who | |
did it, it is the least I can do for him who is gone." | |
She listened to a short account from my companion, with a composed | |
concentration which showed me that she possessed strong character as | |
well as great beauty. Maud Bellamy will always remain in my memory as | |
a most complete and remarkable woman. It seems that she already knew | |
me by sight, for she turned to me at the end. | |
"Bring them to justice, Mr. Holmes. You have my sympathy and my help, | |
whoever they may be." It seemed to me that she glanced defiantly at | |
her father and brother as she spoke. | |
"Thank you," said I. "I value a woman's instinct in such matters. You | |
use the word 'they.' You think that more than one was concerned?" | |
"I knew Mr. McPherson well enough to be aware that he was a brave and | |
a strong man. No single person could ever have inflicted such an | |
outrage upon him." | |
"Might I have one word with you alone?" | |
"I tell you, Maud, not to mix yourself up in the matter," cried her | |
father angrily. | |
She looked at me helplessly. "What can I do?" | |
"The whole world will know the facts presently, so there can be no | |
harm if I discuss them here," said I. "I should have preferred | |
privacy, but if your father will not allow it he must share the | |
deliberations." Then I spoke of the note which had been found in the | |
dead man's pocket. "It is sure to be produced at the inquest. May I | |
ask you to throw any light upon it that you can?" | |
"I see no reason for mystery," she answered. "We were engaged to be | |
married, and we only kept it secret because Fitzroy's uncle, who is | |
very old and said to be dying, might have disinherited him if he had | |
married against his wish. There was no other reason." | |
"You could have told us," growled Mr. Bellamy. | |
"So I would, father, if you had ever shown sympathy." | |
"I object to my girl picking up with men outside her own station." | |
"It was your prejudice against him which prevented us from telling | |
you. As to this appointment"--she fumbled in her dress and produced a | |
crumpled note--"it was in answer to this." | |
Dearest [ran the message]: | |
The old place on the beach just after sunset on Tuesday. It is the | |
only time I can get away. | |
F. M. | |
"Tuesday was to-day, and I had meant to meet him to-night." | |
I turned over the paper. "This never came by post. How did you get | |
it?" | |
"I would rather not answer that question. It has really nothing to do | |
with the matter which you are investigating. But anything which bears | |
upon that I will most freely answer." | |
She was as good as her word, but there was nothing which was helpful | |
in our investigation. She had no reason to think that her fiance had | |
any hidden enemy, but she admitted that she had had several warm | |
admirers. | |
"May I ask if Mr. Ian Murdoch was one of them?" | |
She blushed and seemed confused. | |
"There was a time when I thought he was. But that was all changed | |
when he understood the relations between Fitzroy and myself." | |
Again the shadow round this strange man seemed to me to be taking | |
more definite shape. His record must be examined. His rooms must be | |
privately searched. Stackhurst was a willing collaborator, for in his | |
mind also suspicions were forming. We returned from our visit to The | |
Haven with the hope that one free end of this tangled skein was | |
already in our hands. | |
A week passed. The inquest had thrown no light upon the matter and | |
had been adjourned for further evidence. Stackhurst had made discreet | |
inquiry about his subordinate, and there had been a superficial | |
search of his room, but without result. Personally, I had gone over | |
the whole ground again, both physically and mentally, but with no new | |
conclusions. In all my chronicles the reader will find no case which | |
brought me so completely to the limit of my powers. Even my | |
imagination could conceive no solution to the mystery. And then there | |
came the incident of the dog. | |
It was my old housekeeper who heard of it first by that strange | |
wireless by which such people collect the news of the countryside. | |
"Sad story this, sir, about Mr. McPherson's dog," said she one | |
evening. | |
I do not encourage such conversations, but the words arrested my | |
attention. | |
"What of Mr. McPherson's dog?" | |
"Dead, sir. Died of grief for its master." | |
"Who told you this?" | |
"Why, sir, everyone is talking of it. It took on terrible, and has | |
eaten nothing for a week. Then to-day two of the young gentlemen from | |
The Gables found it dead--down on the beach, sir, at the very place | |
where its master met his end." | |
"At the very place." The words stood out clear in my memory. Some dim | |
perception that the matter was vital rose in my mind. That the dog | |
should die was after the beautiful, faithful nature of dogs. But "in | |
the very place"! Why should this lonely beach be fatal to it? Was it | |
possible that it also had been sacrificed to some revengeful feud? | |
Was it possible--? Yes, the perception was dim, but already something | |
was building up in my mind. In a few minutes I was on my way to The | |
Gables, where I found Stackhurst in his study. At my request he sent | |
for Sudbury and Blount, the two students who had found the dog. | |
"Yes, it lay on the very edge of the pool," said one of them. "It | |
must have followed the trail of its dead master." | |
I saw the faithful little creature, an Airedale terrier, laid out | |
upon the mat in the hall. The body was stiff and rigid, the eyes | |
projecting, and the limbs contorted. There was agony in every line of | |
it. | |
From The Gables I walked down to the bathing-pool. The sun had sunk | |
and the shadow of the great cliff lay black across the water, which | |
glimmered dully like a sheet of lead. The place was deserted and | |
there was no sign of life save for two sea-birds circling and | |
screaming overhead. In the fading light I could dimly make out the | |
little dog's spoor upon the sand round the very rock on which his | |
master's towel had been laid. For a long time I stood in deep | |
meditation while the shadows grew darker around me. My mind was | |
filled with racing thoughts. You have known what it was to be in a | |
nightmare in which you feel that there is some all-important thing | |
for which you search and which you know is there, though it remains | |
forever just beyond your reach. That was how I felt that evening as I | |
stood alone by that place of death. Then at last I turned and walked | |
slowly homeward. | |
I had just reached the top of the path when it came to me. Like a | |
flash, I remembered the thing for which I had so eagerly and vainly | |
grasped. You will know, or Watson has written in vain, that I hold a | |
vast store of out-of-the-way knowledge without scientific system, but | |
very available for the needs of my work. My mind is like a crowded | |
box-room with packets of all sorts stowed away therein--so many that | |
I may well have but a vague perception of what was there. I had known | |
that there was something which might bear upon this matter. It was | |
still vague, but at least I knew how I could make it clear. It was | |
monstrous, incredible, and yet it was always a possibility. I would | |
test it to the full. | |
There is a great garret in my little house which is stuffed with | |
books. It was into this that I plunged and rummaged for an hour. At | |
the end of that time I emerged with a little chocolate and silver | |
volume. Eagerly I turned up the chapter of which I had a dim | |
remembrance. Yes, it was indeed a far-fetched and unlikely | |
proposition, and yet I could not be at rest until I had made sure if | |
it might, indeed, be so. It was late when I retired, with my mind | |
eagerly awaiting the work of the morrow. | |
But that work met with an annoying interruption. I had hardly | |
swallowed my early cup of tea and was starting for the beach when I | |
had a call from Inspector Bardle of the Sussex Constabulary--a | |
steady, solid, bovine man with thoughtful eyes, which looked at me | |
now with a very troubled expression. | |
"I know your immense experience, sir," said he. "This is quite | |
unofficial, of course, and need go no farther. But I am fairly up | |
against it in this McPherson case. The question is, shall I make an | |
arrest, or shall I not?" | |
"Meaning Mr. Ian Murdoch?" | |
"Yes, sir. There is really no one else when you come to think of it. | |
That's the advantage of this solitude. We narrow it down to a very | |
small compass. If he did not do it, then who did?" | |
"What have you against him?" | |
He had gleaned along the same furrows as I had. There was Murdoch's | |
character and the mystery which seemed to hang round the man. His | |
furious bursts of temper, as shown in the incident of the dog. The | |
fact that he had quarrelled with McPherson in the past, and that | |
there was some reason to think that he might have resented his | |
attentions to Miss Bellamy. He had all my points, but no fresh ones, | |
save that Murdoch seemed to be making every preparation for | |
departure. | |
"What would my position be if I let him slip away with all this | |
evidence against him?" The burly, phlegmatic man was sorely troubled | |
in his mind. | |
"Consider," I said, "all the essential gaps in your case. On the | |
morning of the crime he can surely prove an alibi. He had been with | |
his scholars till the last moment, and within a few minutes of | |
McPherson's appearance he came upon us from behind. Then bear in mind | |
the absolute impossibility that he could single-handed have inflicted | |
this outrage upon a man quite as strong as himself. Finally, there is | |
this question of the instrument with which these injuries were | |
inflicted." | |
"What could it be but a scourge or flexible whip of some sort?" | |
"Have you examined the marks?" I asked. | |
"I have seen them. So has the doctor." | |
"But I have examined them very carefully with a lens. They have | |
peculiarities." | |
"What are they, Mr. Holmes?" | |
I stepped to my bureau and brought out an enlarged photograph. "This | |
is my method in such cases," I explained. | |
"You certainly do things thoroughly, Mr. Holmes." | |
"I should hardly be what I am if I did not. Now let us consider this | |
weal which extends round the right shoulder. Do you observe nothing | |
remarkable?" | |
"I can't say I do." | |
"Surely it is evident that it is unequal in its intensity. There is a | |
dot of extravasated blood here, and another there. There are similar | |
indications in this other weal down here. What can that mean?" | |
"I have no idea. Have you?" | |
"Perhaps I have. Perhaps I haven't. I may be able to say more soon. | |
Anything which will define what made that mark will bring us a long | |
way towards the criminal." | |
"It is, of course, an absurd idea," said the policeman, "but if a | |
red-hot net of wire had been laid across the back, then these better | |
marked points would represent where the meshes crossed each other." | |
"A most ingenious comparison. Or shall we say a very stiff | |
cat-o'-nine-tails with small hard knots upon it?" | |
"By Jove, Mr. Holmes, I think you have hit it." | |
"Or there may be some very different cause, Mr. Bardle. But your case | |
is far too weak for an arrest. Besides, we have those last words--the | |
'Lion's Mane.'" | |
"I have wondered whether Ian--" | |
"Yes, I have considered that. If the second word had borne any | |
resemblance to Murdoch--but it did not. He gave it almost in a | |
shriek. I am sure that it was 'Mane.'" | |
"Have you no alternative, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Perhaps I have. But I do not care to discuss it until there is | |
something more solid to discuss." | |
"And when will that be?" | |
"In an hour--possibly less." | |
The inspector rubbed his chin and looked at me with dubious eyes. | |
"I wish I could see what was in your mind, Mr. Holmes. Perhaps it's | |
those fishing-boats." | |
"No, no, they were too far out." | |
"Well, then, is it Bellamy and that big son of his? They were not too | |
sweet upon Mr. McPherson. Could they have done him a mischief?" | |
"No, no, you won't draw me until I am ready," said I with a smile. | |
"Now, Inspector, we each have our own work to do. Perhaps if you were | |
to meet me here at midday--" | |
So far we had got when there came the tremendous interruption which | |
was the beginning of the end. | |
My outer door was flung open, there were blundering footsteps in the | |
passage, and Ian Murdoch staggered into the room, pallid, | |
dishevelled, his clothes in wild disorder, clawing with his bony | |
hands at the furniture to hold himself erect. "Brandy! Brandy!" he | |
gasped, and fell groaning upon the sofa. | |
He was not alone. Behind him came Stackhurst, hatless and panting, | |
almost as distrait as his companion. | |
"Yes, yes, brandy!" he cried. "The man is at his last gasp. It was | |
all I could do to bring him here. He fainted twice upon the way." | |
Half a tumbler of the raw spirit brought about a wondrous change. He | |
pushed himself up on one arm and swung his coat from his shoulders. | |
"For God's sake, oil, opium, morphia!" he cried. "Anything to ease | |
this infernal agony!" | |
The inspector and I cried out at the sight. There, crisscrossed upon | |
the man's naked shoulder, was the same strange reticulated pattern of | |
red, inflamed lines which had been the death-mark of Fitzroy | |
McPherson. | |
The pain was evidently terrible and was more than local, for the | |
sufferer's breathing would stop for a time, his face would turn | |
black, and then with loud gasps he would clap his hand to his heart, | |
while his brow dropped beads of sweat. At any moment he might die. | |
More and more brandy was poured down his throat, each fresh dose | |
bringing him back to life. Pads of cotton-wool soaked in salad-oil | |
seemed to take the agony from the strange wounds. At last his head | |
fell heavily upon the cushion. Exhausted Nature had taken refuge in | |
its last storehouse of vitality. It was half a sleep and half a | |
faint, but at least it was ease from pain. | |
To question him had been impossible, but the moment we were assured | |
of his condition Stackhurst turned upon me. | |
"My God!" he cried, "what is it, Holmes? What is it?" | |
"Where did you find him?" | |
"Down on the beach. Exactly where poor McPherson met his end. If this | |
man's heart had been weak as McPherson's was, he would not be here | |
now. More than once I thought he was gone as I brought him up. It was | |
too far to The Gables, so I made for you." | |
"Did you see him on the beach?" | |
"I was walking on the cliff when I heard his cry. He was at the edge | |
of the water, reeling about like a drunken man. I ran down, threw | |
some clothes about him, and brought him up. For heaven's sake, | |
Holmes, use all the powers you have and spare no pains to lift the | |
curse from this place, for life is becoming unendurable. Can you, | |
with all your world-wide reputation, do nothing for us?" | |
"I think I can, Stackhurst. Come with me now! And you, Inspector, | |
come along! We will see if we cannot deliver this murderer into your | |
hands." | |
Leaving the unconscious man in the charge of my housekeeper, we all | |
three went down to the deadly lagoon. On the shingle there was piled | |
a little heap of towels and clothes left by the stricken man. Slowly | |
I walked round the edge of the water, my comrades in Indian file | |
behind me. Most of the pool was quite shallow, but under the cliff | |
where the beach was hollowed out it was four or five feet deep. It | |
was to this part that a swimmer would naturally go, for it formed a | |
beautiful pellucid green pool as clear as crystal. A line of rocks | |
lay above it at the base of the cliff, and along this I led the way, | |
peering eagerly into the depths beneath me. I had reached the deepest | |
and stillest pool when my eyes caught that for which they were | |
searching, and I burst into a shout of triumph. | |
"Cyanea!" I cried. "Cyanea! Behold the Lion's Mane!" | |
The strange object at which I pointed did indeed look like a tangled | |
mass torn from the mane of a lion. It lay upon a rocky shelf some | |
three feet under the water, a curious waving, vibrating, hairy | |
creature with streaks of silver among its yellow tresses. It pulsated | |
with a slow, heavy dilation and contraction. | |
"It has done mischief enough. Its day is over!" I cried. "Help me, | |
Stackhurst! Let us end the murderer forever." | |
There was a big boulder just above the ledge, and we pushed it until | |
it fell with a tremendous splash into the water. When the ripples had | |
cleared we saw that it had settled upon the ledge below. One flapping | |
edge of yellow membrane showed that our victim was beneath it. A | |
thick oily scum oozed out from below the stone and stained the water | |
round, rising slowly to the surface. | |
"Well, this gets me!" cried the inspector. "What was it, Mr. Holmes? | |
I'm born and bred in these parts, but I never saw such a thing. It | |
don't belong to Sussex." | |
"Just as well for Sussex," I remarked. "It may have been the | |
southwest gale that brought it up. Come back to my house, both of | |
you, and I will give you the terrible experience of one who has good | |
reason to remember his own meeting with the same peril of the seas." | |
When we reached my study we found that Murdoch was so far recovered | |
that he could sit up. He was dazed in mind, and every now and then | |
was shaken by a paroxysm of pain. In broken words he explained that | |
he had no notion what had occurred to him, save that terrific pangs | |
had suddenly shot through him, and that it had taken all his | |
fortitude to reach the bank. | |
"Here is a book," I said, taking up the little volume, "which first | |
brought light into what might have been forever dark. It is Out of | |
Doors, by the famous observer, J. G. Wood. Wood himself very nearly | |
perished from contact with this vile creature, so he wrote with a | |
very full knowledge. Cyanea capillata is the miscreant's full name, | |
and he can be as dangerous to life as, and far more painful than, the | |
bite of the cobra. Let me briefly give this extract. | |
"If the bather should see a loose roundish mass of tawny membranes | |
and fibres, something like very large handfuls of lion's mane and | |
silver paper, let him beware, for this is the fearful stinger, Cyanea | |
capillata. | |
Could our sinister acquaintance be more clearly described? | |
"He goes on to tell of his own encounter with one when swimming off | |
the coast of Kent. He found that the creature radiated almost | |
invisible filaments to the distance of fifty feet, and that anyone | |
within that circumference from the deadly centre was in danger of | |
death. Even at a distance the effect upon Wood was almost fatal. | |
"The multitudinous threads caused light scarlet lines upon the skin | |
which on closer examination resolved into minute dots or pustules, | |
each dot charged as it were with a red-hot needle making its way | |
through the nerves. | |
"The local pain was, as he explains, the least part of the exquisite | |
torment. | |
"Pangs shot through the chest, causing me to fall as if struck by a | |
bullet. The pulsation would cease, and then the heart would give six | |
or seven leaps as if it would force its way through the chest. | |
"It nearly killed him, although he had only been exposed to it in the | |
disturbed ocean and not in the narrow calm waters of a bathing-pool. | |
He says that he could hardly recognize himself afterwards, so white, | |
wrinkled and shrivelled was his face. He gulped down brandy, a whole | |
bottleful, and it seems to have saved his life. There is the book, | |
Inspector. I leave it with you, and you cannot doubt that it contains | |
a full explanation of the tragedy of poor McPherson." | |
"And incidentally exonerates me," remarked Ian Murdoch with a wry | |
smile. "I do not blame you, Inspector, nor you, Mr. Holmes, for your | |
suspicions were natural. I feel that on the very eve of my arrest I | |
have only cleared myself by sharing the fate of my poor friend." | |
"No, Mr. Murdoch. I was already upon the track, and had I been out as | |
early as I intended I might well have saved you from this terrific | |
experience." | |
"But how did you know, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"I am an omnivorous reader with a strangely retentive memory for | |
trifles. That phrase 'the Lion's Mane' haunted my mind. I knew that I | |
had seen it somewhere in an unexpected context. You have seen that it | |
does describe the creature. I have no doubt that it was floating on | |
the water when McPherson saw it, and that this phrase was the only | |
one by which he could convey to us a warning as to the creature which | |
had been his death." | |
"Then I, at least, am cleared," said Murdoch, rising slowly to his | |
feet. "There are one or two words of explanation which I should give, | |
for I know the direction in which your inquiries have run. It is true | |
that I loved this lady, but from the day when she chose my friend | |
McPherson my one desire was to help her to happiness. I was well | |
content to stand aside and act as their go-between. Often I carried | |
their messages, and it was because I was in their confidence and | |
because she was so dear to me that I hastened to tell her of my | |
friend's death, lest someone should forestall me in a more sudden and | |
heartless manner. She would not tell you, sir, of our relations lest | |
you should disapprove and I might suffer. But with your leave I must | |
try to get back to The Gables, for my bed will be very welcome." | |
Stackhurst held out his hand. "Our nerves have all been at | |
concert-pitch," said he. "Forgive what is past, Murdoch. We shall | |
understand each other better in the future." They passed out together | |
with their arms linked in friendly fashion. The inspector remained, | |
staring at me in silence with his ox-like eyes. | |
"Well, you've done it!" he cried at last. "I had read of you, but I | |
never believed it. It's wonderful!" | |
I was forced to shake my head. To accept such praise was to lower | |
one's own standards. | |
"I was slow at the outset--culpably slow. Had the body been found in | |
the water I could hardly have missed it. It was the towel which | |
misled me. The poor fellow had never thought to dry himself, and so I | |
in turn was led to believe that he had never been in the water. Why, | |
then, should the attack of any water creature suggest itself to me? | |
That was where I went astray. Well, well, Inspector, I often ventured | |
to chaff you gentlemen of the police force, but Cyanea capillata very | |
nearly avenged Scotland Yard." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE VEILED LODGER | |
When one considers that Mr. Sherlock Holmes was in active practice | |
for twenty-three years, and that during seventeen of these I was | |
allowed to cooperate with him and to keep notes of his doings, it | |
will be clear that I have a mass of material at my command. The | |
problem has always been not to find but to choose. There is the long | |
row of year-books which fill a shelf, and there are the | |
dispatch-cases filled with documents, a perfect quarry for the | |
student not only of crime but of the social and official scandals of | |
the late Victorian era. Concerning these latter, I may say that the | |
writers of agonized letters, who beg that the honour of their | |
families or the reputation of famous forebears may not be touched, | |
have nothing to fear. The discretion and high sense of professional | |
honour which have always distinguished my friend are still at work in | |
the choice of these memoirs, and no confidence will be abused. I | |
deprecate, however, in the strongest way the attempts which have been | |
made lately to get at and to destroy these papers. The source of | |
these outrages is known, and if they are repeated I have Mr. Holmes's | |
authority for saying that the whole story concerning the politician, | |
the lighthouse, and the trained cormorant will be given to the | |
public. There is at least one reader who will understand. | |
It is not reasonable to suppose that every one of these cases gave | |
Holmes the opportunity of showing those curious gifts of instinct and | |
observation which I have endeavoured to set forth in these memoirs. | |
Sometimes he had with much effort to pick the fruit, sometimes it | |
fell easily into his lap. But the most terrible human tragedies were | |
often involved in those cases which brought him the fewest personal | |
opportunities, and it is one of these which I now desire to record. | |
In telling it, I have made a slight change of name and place, but | |
otherwise the facts are as stated. | |
One forenoon--it was late in 1896--I received a hurried note from | |
Holmes asking for my attendance. When I arrived I found him seated in | |
a smoke-laden atmosphere, with an elderly, motherly woman of the | |
buxom landlady type in the corresponding chair in front of him. | |
"This is Mrs. Merrilow, of South Brixton," said my friend with a wave | |
of the hand. "Mrs. Merrilow does not object to tobacco, Watson, if | |
you wish to indulge your filthy habits. Mrs. Merrilow has an | |
interesting story to tell which may well lead to further developments | |
in which your presence may be useful." | |
"Anything I can do--" | |
"You will understand, Mrs. Merrilow, that if I come to Mrs. Ronder I | |
should prefer to have a witness. You will make her understand that | |
before we arrive." | |
"Lord bless you, Mr. Holmes," said our visitor, "she is that anxious | |
to see you that you might bring the whole parish at your heels!" | |
"Then we shall come early in the afternoon. Let us see that we have | |
our facts correct before we start. If we go over them it will help | |
Dr. Watson to understand the situation. You say that Mrs. Ronder has | |
been your lodger for seven years and that you have only once seen her | |
face." | |
"And I wish to God I had not!" said Mrs. Merrilow. | |
"It was, I understand, terribly mutilated." | |
"Well, Mr. Holmes, you would hardly say it was a face at all. That's | |
how it looked. Our milkman got a glimpse of her once peeping out of | |
the upper window, and he dropped his tin and the milk all over the | |
front garden. That is the kind of face it is. When I saw her--I | |
happened on her unawares--she covered up quick, and then she said, | |
'Now, Mrs. Merrilow, you know at last why it is that I never raise my | |
veil.'" | |
"Do you know anything about her history?" | |
"Nothing at all." | |
"Did she give references when she came?" | |
"No, sir, but she gave hard cash, and plenty of it. A quarter's rent | |
right down on the table in advance and no arguing about terms. In | |
these times a poor woman like me can't afford to turn down a chance | |
like that." | |
"Did she give any reason for choosing your house?" | |
"Mine stands well back from the road and is more private than most. | |
Then, again, I only take the one, and I have no family of my own. I | |
reckon she had tried others and found that mine suited her best. It's | |
privacy she is after, and she is ready to pay for it." | |
"You say that she never showed her face from first to last save on | |
the one accidental occasion. Well, it is a very remarkable story, | |
most remarkable, and I don't wonder that you want it examined." | |
"I don't, Mr. Holmes. I am quite satisfied so long as I get my rent. | |
You could not have a quieter lodger, or one who gives less trouble." | |
"Then what has brought matters to a head?" | |
"Her health, Mr. Holmes. She seems to be wasting away. And there's | |
something terrible on her mind. 'Murder!' she cries. 'Murder!' And | |
once I heard her: 'You cruel beast! You monster!' she cried. It was | |
in the night, and it fair rang through the house and sent the shivers | |
through me. So I went to her in the morning. 'Mrs. Ronder,' I says, | |
'if you have anything that is troubling your soul, there's the | |
clergy,' I says, 'and there's the police. Between them you should get | |
some help.' 'For God's sake, not the police!' says she, 'and the | |
clergy can't change what is past. And yet,' she says, 'it would ease | |
my mind if someone knew the truth before I died.' 'Well,' says I, 'if | |
you won't have the regulars, there is this detective man what we read | |
about'--beggin' your pardon, Mr. Holmes. And she, she fair jumped at | |
it. 'That's the man,' says she. 'I wonder I never thought of it | |
before. Bring him here, Mrs. Merrilow, and if he won't come, tell him | |
I am the wife of Ronder's wild beast show. Say that, and give him the | |
name Abbas Parva. Here it is as she wrote it, Abbas Parva. 'That will | |
bring him if he's the man I think he is.'" | |
"And it will, too," remarked Holmes. "Very good, Mrs. Merrilow. I | |
should like to have a little chat with Dr. Watson. That will carry us | |
till lunch-time. About three o'clock you may expect to see us at your | |
house in Brixton." | |
Our visitor had no sooner waddled out of the room--no other verb can | |
describe Mrs. Merrilow's method of progression--than Sherlock Holmes | |
threw himself with fierce energy upon the pile of commonplace books | |
in the corner. For a few minutes there was a constant swish of the | |
leaves, and then with a grunt of satisfaction he came upon what he | |
sought. So excited was he that he did not rise, but sat upon the | |
floor like some strange Buddha, with crossed legs, the huge books all | |
round him, and one open upon his knees. | |
"The case worried me at the time, Watson. Here are my marginal notes | |
to prove it. I confess that I could make nothing of it. And yet I was | |
convinced that the coroner was wrong. Have you no recollection of the | |
Abbas Parva tragedy?" | |
"None, Holmes." | |
"And yet you were with me then. But certainly my own impression was | |
very superficial. For there was nothing to go by, and none of the | |
parties had engaged my services. Perhaps you would care to read the | |
papers?" | |
"Could you not give me the points?" | |
"That is very easily done. It will probably come back to your memory | |
as I talk. Ronder, of course, was a household word. He was the rival | |
of Wombwell, and of Sanger, one of the greatest showmen of his day. | |
There is evidence, however, that he took to drink, and that both he | |
and his show were on the down grade at the time of the great tragedy. | |
The caravan had halted for the night at Abbas Parva, which is a small | |
village in Berkshire, when this horror occurred. They were on their | |
way to Wimbledon, travelling by road, and they were simply camping | |
and not exhibiting, as the place is so small a one that it would not | |
have paid them to open. | |
"They had among their exhibits a very fine North African lion. Sahara | |
King was its name, and it was the habit, both of Ronder and his wife, | |
to give exhibitions inside its cage. Here, you see, is a photograph | |
of the performance by which you will perceive that Ronder was a huge | |
porcine person and that his wife was a very magnificent woman. It was | |
deposed at the inquest that there had been some signs that the lion | |
was dangerous, but, as usual, familiarity begat contempt, and no | |
notice was taken of the fact. | |
"It was usual for either Ronder or his wife to feed the lion at | |
night. Sometimes one went, sometimes both, but they never allowed | |
anyone else to do it, for they believed that so long as they were the | |
food-carriers he would regard them as benefactors and would never | |
molest them. On this particular night, seven years ago, they both | |
went, and a very terrible happening followed, the details of which | |
have never been made clear. | |
"It seems that the whole camp was roused near midnight by the roars | |
of the animal and the screams of the woman. The different grooms and | |
employees rushed from their tents, carrying lanterns, and by their | |
light an awful sight was revealed. Ronder lay, with the back of his | |
head crushed in and deep claw-marks across his scalp, some ten yards | |
from the cage, which was open. Close to the door of the cage lay Mrs. | |
Ronder upon her back, with the creature squatting and snarling above | |
her. It had torn her face in such a fashion that it was never thought | |
that she could live. Several of the circus men, headed by Leonardo, | |
the strong man, and Griggs, the clown, drove the creature off with | |
poles, upon which it sprang back into the cage and was at once locked | |
in. How it had got loose was a mystery. It was conjectured that the | |
pair intended to enter the cage, but that when the door was loosed | |
the creature bounded out upon them. There was no other point of | |
interest in the evidence save that the woman in a delirium of agony | |
kept screaming, 'Coward! Coward!' as she was carried back to the van | |
in which they lived. It was six months before she was fit to give | |
evidence, but the inquest was duly held, with the obvious verdict of | |
death from misadventure." | |
"What alternative could be conceived?" said I. | |
"You may well say so. And yet there were one or two points which | |
worried young Edmunds, of the Berkshire Constabulary. A smart lad | |
that! He was sent later to Allahabad. That was how I came into the | |
matter, for he dropped in and smoked a pipe or two over it." | |
"A thin, yellow-haired man?" | |
"Exactly. I was sure you would pick up the trail presently." | |
"But what worried him?" | |
"Well, we were both worried. It was so deucedly difficult to | |
reconstruct the affair. Look at it from the lion's point of view. He | |
is liberated. What does he do? He takes half a dozen bounds forward, | |
which brings him to Ronder. Ronder turns to fly--the claw-marks were | |
on the back of his head--but the lion strikes him down. Then, instead | |
of bounding on and escaping, he returns to the woman, who was close | |
to the cage, and he knocks her over and chews her face up. Then, | |
again, those cries of hers would seem to imply that her husband had | |
in some way failed her. What could the poor devil have done to help | |
her? You see the difficulty?" | |
"Quite." | |
"And then there was another thing. It comes back to me now as I think | |
it over. There was some evidence that just at the time the lion | |
roared and the woman screamed, a man began shouting in terror." | |
"This man Ronder, no doubt." | |
"Well, if his skull was smashed in you would hardly expect to hear | |
from him again. There were at least two witnesses who spoke of the | |
cries of a man being mingled with those of a woman." | |
"I should think the whole camp was crying out by then. As to the | |
other points, I think I could suggest a solution." | |
"I should be glad to consider it." | |
"The two were together, ten yards from the cage, when the lion got | |
loose. The man turned and was struck down. The woman conceived the | |
idea of getting into the cage and shutting the door. It was her only | |
refuge. She made for it, and just as she reached it the beast bounded | |
after her and knocked her over. She was angry with her husband for | |
having encouraged the beast's rage by turning. If they had faced it | |
they might have cowed it. Hence her cries of 'Coward!'" | |
"Brilliant, Watson! Only one flaw in your diamond." | |
"What is the flaw, Holmes?" | |
"If they were both ten paces from the cage, how came the beast to get | |
loose?" | |
"Is it possible that they had some enemy who loosed it?" | |
"And why should it attack them savagely when it was in the habit of | |
playing with them, and doing tricks with them inside the cage?" | |
"Possibly the same enemy had done something to enrage it." | |
Holmes looked thoughtful and remained in silence for some moments. | |
"Well, Watson, there is this to be said for your theory. Ronder was a | |
man of many enemies. Edmunds told me that in his cups he was | |
horrible. A huge bully of a man, he cursed and slashed at everyone | |
who came in his way. I expect those cries about a monster, of which | |
our visitor has spoken, were nocturnal reminiscences of the dear | |
departed. However, our speculations are futile until we have all the | |
facts. There is a cold partridge on the sideboard, Watson, and a | |
bottle of Montrachet. Let us renew our energies before we make a | |
fresh call upon them." | |
When our hansom deposited us at the house of Mrs. Merrilow, we found | |
that plump lady blocking up the open door of her humble but retired | |
abode. It was very clear that her chief preoccupation was lest she | |
should lose a valuable lodger, and she implored us, before showing us | |
up, to say and do nothing which could lead to so undesirable an end. | |
Then, having reassured her, we followed her up the straight, badly | |
carpeted staircase and were shown into the room of the mysterious | |
lodger. | |
It was a close, musty, ill-ventilated place, as might be expected, | |
since its inmate seldom left it. From keeping beasts in a cage, the | |
woman seemed, by some retribution of fate, to have become herself a | |
beast in a cage. She sat now in a broken armchair in the shadowy | |
corner of the room. Long years of inaction had coarsened the lines of | |
her figure, but at some period it must have been beautiful, and was | |
still full and voluptuous. A thick dark veil covered her face, but it | |
was cut off close at her upper lip and disclosed a perfectly shaped | |
mouth and a delicately rounded chin. I could well conceive that she | |
had indeed been a very remarkable woman. Her voice, too, was well | |
modulated and pleasing. | |
"My name is not unfamiliar to you, Mr. Holmes," said she. "I thought | |
that it would bring you." | |
"That is so, madam, though I do not know how you are aware that I was | |
interested in your case." | |
"I learned it when I had recovered my health and was examined by Mr. | |
Edmunds, the county detective. I fear I lied to him. Perhaps it would | |
have been wiser had I told the truth." | |
"It is usually wiser to tell the truth. But why did you lie to him?" | |
"Because the fate of someone else depended upon it. I know that he | |
was a very worthless being, and yet I would not have his destruction | |
upon my conscience. We had been so close--so close!" | |
"But has this impediment been removed?" | |
"Yes, sir. The person that I allude to is dead." | |
"Then why should you not now tell the police anything you know?" | |
"Because there is another person to be considered. That other person | |
is myself. I could not stand the scandal and publicity which would | |
come from a police examination. I have not long to live, but I wish | |
to die undisturbed. And yet I wanted to find one man of judgment to | |
whom I could tell my terrible story, so that when I am gone all might | |
be understood." | |
"You compliment me, madam. At the same time, I am a responsible | |
person. I do not promise you that when you have spoken I may not | |
myself think it my duty to refer the case to the police." | |
"I think not, Mr. Holmes. I know your character and methods too well, | |
for I have followed your work for some years. Reading is the only | |
pleasure which fate has left me, and I miss little which passes in | |
the world. But in any case, I will take my chance of the use which | |
you may make of my tragedy. It will ease my mind to tell it." | |
"My friend and I would be glad to hear it." | |
The woman rose and took from a drawer the photograph of a man. He was | |
clearly a professional acrobat, a man of magnificent physique, taken | |
with his huge arms folded across his swollen chest and a smile | |
breaking from under his heavy moustache--the self-satisfied smile of | |
the man of many conquests. | |
"That is Leonardo," she said. | |
"Leonardo, the strong man, who gave evidence?" | |
"The same. And this--this is my husband." | |
It was a dreadful face--a human pig, or rather a human wild boar, for | |
it was formidable in its bestiality. One could imagine that vile | |
mouth champing and foaming in its rage, and one could conceive those | |
small, vicious eyes darting pure malignancy as they looked forth upon | |
the world. Ruffian, bully, beast--it was all written on that | |
heavy-jowled face. | |
"Those two pictures will help you, gentlemen, to understand the | |
story. I was a poor circus girl brought up on the sawdust, and doing | |
springs through the hoop before I was ten. When I became a woman this | |
man loved me, if such lust as his can be called love, and in an evil | |
moment I became his wife. From that day I was in hell, and he the | |
devil who tormented me. There was no one in the show who did not know | |
of his treatment. He deserted me for others. He tied me down and | |
lashed me with his riding-whip when I complained. They all pitied me | |
and they all loathed him, but what could they do? They feared him, | |
one and all. For he was terrible at all times, and murderous when he | |
was drunk. Again and again he was had up for assault, and for cruelty | |
to the beasts, but he had plenty of money and the fines were nothing | |
to him. The best men all left us, and the show began to go downhill. | |
It was only Leonardo and I who kept it up--with little Jimmy Griggs, | |
the clown. Poor devil, he had not much to be funny about, but he did | |
what he could to hold things together. | |
"Then Leonardo came more and more into my life. You see what he was | |
like. I know now the poor spirit that was hidden in that splendid | |
body, but compared to my husband he seemed like the angel Gabriel. He | |
pitied me and helped me, till at last our intimacy turned to | |
love--deep, deep, passionate love, such love as I had dreamed of but | |
never hoped to feel. My husband suspected it, but I think that he was | |
a coward as well as a bully, and that Leonardo was the one man that | |
he was afraid of. He took revenge in his own way by torturing me more | |
than ever. One night my cries brought Leonardo to the door of our | |
van. We were near tragedy that night, and soon my lover and I | |
understood that it could not be avoided. My husband was not fit to | |
live. We planned that he should die. | |
"Leonardo had a clever, scheming brain. It was he who planned it. I | |
do not say that to blame him, for I was ready to go with him every | |
inch of the way. But I should never have had the wit to think of such | |
a plan. We made a club--Leonardo made it--and in the leaden head he | |
fastened five long steel nails, the points outward, with just such a | |
spread as the lion's paw. This was to give my husband his death-blow, | |
and yet to leave the evidence that it was the lion which we would | |
loose who had done the deed. | |
"It was a pitch-dark night when my husband and I went down, as was | |
our custom, to feed the beast. We carried with us the raw meat in a | |
zinc pail. Leonardo was waiting at the corner of the big van which we | |
should have to pass before we reached the cage. He was too slow, and | |
we walked past him before he could strike, but he followed us on | |
tiptoe and I heard the crash as the club smashed my husband's skull. | |
My heart leaped with joy at the sound. I sprang forward, and I undid | |
the catch which held the door of the great lion's cage. | |
"And then the terrible thing happened. You may have heard how quick | |
these creatures are to scent human blood, and how it excites them. | |
Some strange instinct had told the creature in one instant that a | |
human being had been slain. As I slipped the bars it bounded out and | |
was on me in an instant. Leonardo could have saved me. If he had | |
rushed forward and struck the beast with his club he might have cowed | |
it. But the man lost his nerve. I heard him shout in his terror, and | |
then I saw him turn and fly. At the same instant the teeth of the | |
lion met in my face. Its hot, filthy breath had already poisoned me | |
and I was hardly conscious of pain. With the palms of my hands I | |
tried to push the great steaming, blood-stained jaws away from me, | |
and I screamed for help. I was conscious that the camp was stirring, | |
and then dimly I remembered a group of men. Leonardo, Griggs, and | |
others, dragging me from under the creature's paws. That was my last | |
memory, Mr. Holmes, for many a weary month. When I came to myself and | |
saw myself in the mirror, I cursed that lion--oh, how I cursed | |
him!--not because he had torn away my beauty but because he had not | |
torn away my life. I had but one desire, Mr. Holmes, and I had enough | |
money to gratify it. It was that I should cover myself so that my | |
poor face should be seen by none, and that I should dwell where none | |
whom I had ever known should find me. That was all that was left to | |
me to do--and that is what I have done. A poor wounded beast that has | |
crawled into its hole to die--that is the end of Eugenia Ronder." | |
We sat in silence for some time after the unhappy woman had told her | |
story. Then Holmes stretched out his long arm and patted her hand | |
with such a show of sympathy as I had seldom known him to exhibit. | |
"Poor girl!" he said. "Poor girl! The ways of fate are indeed hard to | |
understand. If there is not some compensation hereafter, then the | |
world is a cruel jest. But what of this man Leonardo?" | |
"I never saw him or heard from him again. Perhaps I have been wrong | |
to feel so bitterly against him. He might as soon have loved one of | |
the freaks whom we carried round the country as the thing which the | |
lion had left. But a woman's love is not so easily set aside. He had | |
left me under the beast's claws, he had deserted me in my need, and | |
yet I could not bring myself to give him to the gallows. For myself, | |
I cared nothing what became of me. What could be more dreadful than | |
my actual life? But I stood between Leonardo and his fate." | |
"And he is dead?" | |
"He was drowned last month when bathing near Margate. I saw his death | |
in the paper." | |
"And what did he do with this five-clawed club, which is the most | |
singular and ingenious part of all your story?" | |
"I cannot tell, Mr. Holmes. There is a chalk-pit by the camp, with a | |
deep green pool at the base of it. Perhaps in the depths of that | |
pool--" | |
"Well, well, it is of little consequence now. The case is closed." | |
"Yes," said the woman, "the case is closed." | |
We had risen to go, but there was something in the woman's voice | |
which arrested Holmes's attention. He turned swiftly upon her. | |
"Your life is not your own," he said. "Keep your hands off it." | |
"What use is it to anyone?" | |
"How can you tell? The example of patient suffering is in itself the | |
most precious of all lessons to an impatient world." | |
The woman's answer was a terrible one. She raised her veil and | |
stepped forward into the light. | |
"I wonder if you would bear it," she said. | |
It was horrible. No words can describe the framework of a face when | |
the face itself is gone. Two living and beautiful brown eyes looking | |
sadly out from that grisly ruin did but make the view more awful. | |
Holmes held up his hand in a gesture of pity and protest, and | |
together we left the room. | |
Two days later, when I called upon my friend, he pointed with some | |
pride to a small blue bottle upon his mantelpiece. I picked it up. | |
There was a red poison label. A pleasant almondy odour rose when I | |
opened it. | |
"Prussic acid?" said I. | |
"Exactly. It came by post. 'I send you my temptation. I will follow | |
your advice.' That was the message. I think, Watson, we can guess the | |
name of the brave woman who sent it." | |
THE ADVENTURE OF SHOSCOMBE OLD PLACE | |
Sherlock Holmes had been bending for a long time over a low-power | |
microscope. Now he straightened himself up and looked round at me in | |
triumph. | |
"It is glue, Watson," said he. "Unquestionably it is glue. Have a | |
look at these scattered objects in the field!" | |
I stooped to the eyepiece and focussed for my vision. | |
"Those hairs are threads from a tweed coat. The irregular gray masses | |
are dust. There are epithelial scales on the left. Those brown blobs | |
in the centre are undoubtedly glue." | |
"Well," I said, laughing, "I am prepared to take your word for it. | |
Does anything depend upon it?" | |
"It is a very fine demonstration," he answered. "In the St. Pancras | |
case you may remember that a cap was found beside the dead policeman. | |
The accused man denies that it is his. But he is a picture-frame | |
maker who habitually handles glue." | |
"Is it one of your cases?" | |
"No; my friend, Merivale, of the Yard, asked me to look into the | |
case. Since I ran down that coiner by the zinc and copper filings in | |
the seam of his cuff they have begun to realize the importance of the | |
microscope." He looked impatiently at his watch. "I had a new client | |
calling, but he is overdue. By the way, Watson, you know something of | |
racing?" | |
"I ought to. I pay for it with about half my wound pension." | |
"Then I'll make you my 'Handy Guide to the Turf.' What about Sir | |
Robert Norberton? Does the name recall anything?" | |
"Well, I should say so. He lives at Shoscombe Old Place, and I know | |
it well, for my summer quarters were down there once. Norberton | |
nearly came within your province once." | |
"How was that?" | |
"It was when he horsewhipped Sam Brewer, the well-known Curzon Street | |
money-lender, on Newmarket Heath. He nearly killed the man." | |
"Ah, he sounds interesting! Does he often indulge in that way?" | |
"Well, he has the name of being a dangerous man. He is about the most | |
daredevil rider in England--second in the Grand National a few years | |
back. He is one of those men who have overshot their true generation. | |
He should have been a buck in the days of the Regency--a boxer, an | |
athlete, a plunger on the turf, a lover of fair ladies, and, by all | |
account, so far down Queer Street that he may never find his way back | |
again." | |
"Capital, Watson! A thumb-nail sketch. I seem to know the man. Now, | |
can you give me some idea of Shoscombe Old Place?" | |
"Only that it is in the centre of Shoscombe Park, and that the famous | |
Shoscombe stud and training quarters are to be found there." | |
"And the head trainer," said Holmes, "is John Mason. You need not | |
look surprised at my knowledge, Watson, for this is a letter from him | |
which I am unfolding. But let us have some more about Shoscombe. I | |
seem to have struck a rich vein." | |
"There are the Shoscombe spaniels," said I. "You hear of them at | |
every dog show. The most exclusive breed in England. They are the | |
special pride of the lady of Shoscombe Old Place." | |
"Sir Robert Norberton's wife, I presume!" | |
"Sir Robert has never married. Just as well, I think, considering his | |
prospects. He lives with his widowed sister, Lady Beatrice Falder." | |
"You mean that she lives with him?" | |
"No, no. The place belonged to her late husband, Sir James. Norberton | |
has no claim on it at all. It is only a life interest and reverts to | |
her husband's brother. Meantime, she draws the rents every year." | |
"And brother Robert, I suppose, spends the said rents?" | |
"That is about the size of it. He is a devil of a fellow and must | |
lead her a most uneasy life. Yet I have heard that she is devoted to | |
him. But what is amiss at Shoscombe?" | |
"Ah, that is just what I want to know. And here, I expect, is the man | |
who can tell us." | |
The door had opened and the page had shown in a tall, clean-shaven | |
man with the firm, austere expression which is only seen upon those | |
who have to control horses or boys. Mr. John Mason had many of both | |
under his sway, and he looked equal to the task. He bowed with cold | |
self-possession and seated himself upon the chair to which Holmes had | |
waved him. | |
"You had my note, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Yes, but it explained nothing." | |
"It was too delicate a thing for me to put the details on paper. And | |
too complicated. It was only face to face I could do it." | |
"Well, we are at your disposal." | |
"First of all, Mr. Holmes, I think that my employer, Sir Robert, has | |
gone mad." | |
Holmes raised his eyebrows. "This is Baker Street, not Harley | |
Street," said he. "But why do you say so?" | |
"Well, sir, when a man does one queer thing, or two queer things, | |
there may be a meaning to it, but when everything he does is queer, | |
then you begin to wonder. I believe Shoscombe Prince and the Derby | |
have turned his brain." | |
"That is a colt you are running?" | |
"The best in England, Mr. Holmes. I should know, if anyone does. Now, | |
I'll be plain with you, for I know you are gentlemen of honour and | |
that it won't go beyond the room. Sir Robert has got to win this | |
Derby. He's up to the neck, and it's his last chance. Everything he | |
could raise or borrow is on the horse--and at fine odds, too! You can | |
get forties now, but it was nearer the hundred when he began to back | |
him." | |
"But how is that if the horse is so good?" | |
"The public don't know how good he is. Sir Robert has been too clever | |
for the touts. He has the Prince's half-brother out for spins. You | |
can't tell 'em apart. But there are two lengths in a furlong between | |
them when it comes to a gallop. He thinks of nothing but the horse | |
and the race. His whole life is on it. He's holding off the Jews till | |
then. If the Prince fails him he is done." | |
"It seems a rather desperate gamble, but where does the madness come | |
in?" | |
"Well, first of all, you have only to look at him. I don't believe he | |
sleeps at night. He is down at the stables at all hours. His eyes are | |
wild. It has all been too much for his nerves. Then there is his | |
conduct to Lady Beatrice!" | |
"Ah! What is that?" | |
"They have always been the best of friends. They had the same tastes, | |
the two of them, and she loved the horses as much as he did. Every | |
day at the same hour she would drive down to see them--and, above | |
all, she loved the Prince. He would prick up his ears when he heard | |
the wheels on the gravel, and he would trot out each morning to the | |
carriage to get his lump of sugar. But that's all over now." | |
"Why?" | |
"Well, she seems to have lost all interest in the horses. For a week | |
now she has driven past the stables with never so much as | |
'Good-morning'!" | |
"You think there has been a quarrel?" | |
"And a bitter, savage, spiteful quarrel at that. Why else would he | |
give away her pet spaniel that she loved as if he were her child? He | |
gave it a few days ago to old Barnes, what keeps the Green Dragon, | |
three miles off, at Crendall." | |
"That certainly did seem strange." | |
"Of course, with her weak heart and dropsy one couldn't expect that | |
she could get about with him, but he spent two hours every evening in | |
her room. He might well do what he could, for she has been a rare | |
good friend to him. But that's all over, too. He never goes near her. | |
And she takes it to heart. She is brooding and sulky and drinking, | |
Mr. Holmes--drinking like a fish." | |
"Did she drink before this estrangement?" | |
"Well, she took her glass, but now it is often a whole bottle of an | |
evening. So Stephens, the butler, told me. It's all changed, Mr. | |
Holmes, and there is something damned rotten about it. But then, | |
again, what is master doing down at the old church crypt at night? | |
And who is the man that meets him there?" | |
Holmes rubbed his hands. | |
"Go on, Mr. Mason. You get more and more interesting." | |
"It was the butler who saw him go. Twelve o'clock at night and | |
raining hard. So next night I was up at the house and, sure enough, | |
master was off again. Stephens and I went after him, but it was jumpy | |
work, for it would have been a bad job if he had seen us. He's a | |
terrible man with his fists if he gets started, and no respecter of | |
persons. So we were shy of getting too near, but we marked him down | |
all right. It was the haunted crypt that he was making for, and there | |
was a man waiting for him there." | |
"What is this haunted crypt?" | |
"Well, sir, there is an old ruined chapel in the park. It is so old | |
that nobody could fix its date. And under it there's a crypt which | |
has a bad name among us. It's a dark, damp, lonely place by day, but | |
there are few in that county that would have the nerve to go near it | |
at night. But master's not afraid. He never feared anything in his | |
life. But what is he doing there in the night-time?" | |
"Wait a bit!" said Holmes. "You say there is another man there. It | |
must be one of your own stablemen, or someone from the house! Surely | |
you have only to spot who it is and question him?" | |
"It's no one I know." | |
"How can you say that?" | |
"Because I have seen him, Mr. Holmes. It was on that second night. | |
Sir Robert turned and passed us--me and Stephens, quaking in the | |
bushes like two bunny-rabbits, for there was a bit of moon that | |
night. But we could hear the other moving about behind. We were not | |
afraid of him. So we up when Sir Robert was gone and pretended we | |
were just having a walk like in the moonlight, and so we came right | |
on him as casual and innocent as you please. 'Hullo, mate! who may | |
you be?' says I. I guess he had not heard us coming, so he looked | |
over his shoulder with a face as if he had seen the devil coming out | |
of hell. He let out a yell, and away he went as hard as he could lick | |
it in the darkness. He could run!--I'll give him that. In a minute he | |
was out of sight and hearing, and who he was, or what he was, we | |
never found." | |
"But you saw him clearly in the moonlight?" | |
"Yes, I would swear to his yellow face--a mean dog, I should say. | |
What could he have in common with Sir Robert?" | |
Holmes sat for some time lost in thought. | |
"Who keeps Lady Beatrice Falder company?" he asked at last. | |
"There is her maid, Carrie Evans. She has been with her this five | |
years." | |
"And is, no doubt, devoted?" | |
Mr. Mason shuffled uncomfortably. | |
"She's devoted enough," he answered at last. "But I won't say to | |
whom." | |
"Ah!" said Holmes. | |
"I can't tell tales out of school." | |
"I quite understand, Mr. Mason. Of course, the situation is clear | |
enough. From Dr. Watson's description of Sir Robert I can realize | |
that no woman is safe from him. Don't you think the quarrel between | |
brother and sister may lie there?" | |
"Well, the scandal has been pretty clear for a long time." | |
"But she may not have seen it before. Let us suppose that she has | |
suddenly found it out. She wants to get rid of the woman. Her brother | |
will not permit it. The invalid, with her weak heart and inability to | |
get about, has no means of enforcing her will. The hated maid is | |
still tied to her. The lady refuses to speak, sulks, takes to drink. | |
Sir Robert in his anger takes her pet spaniel away from her. Does not | |
all this hang together?" | |
"Well, it might do--so far as it goes." | |
"Exactly! As far as it goes. How would all that bear upon the visits | |
by night to the old crypt? We can't fit that into our plot." | |
"No, sir, and there is something more that I can't fit in. Why should | |
Sir Robert want to dig up a dead body?" | |
Holmes sat up abruptly. | |
"We only found it out yesterday--after I had written to you. | |
Yesterday Sir Robert had gone to London, so Stephens and I went down | |
to the crypt. It was all in order, sir, except that in one corner was | |
a bit of a human body." | |
"You informed the police, I suppose?" | |
Our visitor smiled grimly. | |
"Well, sir, I think it would hardly interest them. It was just the | |
head and a few bones of a mummy. It may have been a thousand years | |
old. But it wasn't there before. That I'll swear, and so will | |
Stephens. It had been stowed away in a corner and covered over with a | |
board, but that corner had always been empty before." | |
"What did you do with it?" | |
"Well, we just left it there." | |
"That was wise. You say Sir Robert was away yesterday. Has he | |
returned?" | |
"We expect him back to-day." | |
"When did Sir Robert give away his sister's dog?" | |
"It was just a week ago to-day. The creature was howling outside the | |
old well-house, and Sir Robert was in one of his tantrums that | |
morning. He caught it up, and I thought he would have killed it. Then | |
he gave it to Sandy Bain, the jockey, and told him to take the dog to | |
old Barnes at the Green Dragon, for he never wished to see it again." | |
Holmes sat for some time in silent thought. He had lit the oldest and | |
foulest of his pipes. | |
"I am not clear yet what you want me to do in this matter, Mr. | |
Mason," he said at last. "Can't you make it more definite?" | |
"Perhaps this will make it more definite, Mr. Holmes," said our | |
visitor. | |
He took a paper from his pocket, and, unwrapping it carefully, he | |
exposed a charred fragment of bone. | |
Holmes examined it with interest. | |
"Where did you get it?" | |
"There is a central heating furnace in the cellar under Lady | |
Beatrice's room. It's been off for some time, but Sir Robert | |
complained of cold and had it on again. Harvey runs it--he's one of | |
my lads. This very morning he came to me with this which he found | |
raking out the cinders. He didn't like the look of it." | |
"Nor do I," said Holmes. "What do you make of it, Watson?" | |
It was burned to a black cinder, but there could be no question as to | |
its anatomical significance. | |
"It's the upper condyle of a human femur," said I. | |
"Exactly!" Holmes had become very serious. "When does this lad tend | |
to the furnace?" | |
"He makes it up every evening and then leaves it." | |
"Then anyone could visit it during the night?" | |
"Yes, sir." | |
"Can you enter it from outside?" | |
"There is one door from outside. There is another which leads up by a | |
stair to the passage in which Lady Beatrice's room is situated." | |
"These are deep waters, Mr. Mason; deep and rather dirty. You say | |
that Sir Robert was not at home last night?" | |
"No, sir." | |
"Then, whoever was burning bones, it was not he." | |
"That's true, sir." | |
"What is the name of that inn you spoke of?" | |
"The Green Dragon." | |
"Is there good fishing in that part of Berkshire?" The honest trainer | |
showed very clearly upon his face that he was convinced that yet | |
another lunatic had come into his harassed life. | |
"Well, sir, I've heard there are trout in the mill-stream and pike in | |
the Hall lake." | |
"That's good enough. Watson and I are famous fishermen--are we not, | |
Watson? You may address us in future at the Green Dragon. We should | |
reach it to-night. I need not say that we don't want to see you, Mr. | |
Mason, but a note will reach us, and no doubt I could find you if I | |
want you. When we have gone a little farther into the matter I will | |
let you have a considered opinion." | |
Thus it was that on a bright May evening Holmes and I found ourselves | |
alone in a first-class carriage and bound for the little | |
"halt-on-demand" station of Shoscombe. The rack above us was covered | |
with a formidable litter of rods, reels, and baskets. On reaching our | |
destination a short drive took us to an old-fashioned tavern, where a | |
sporting host, Josiah Barnes, entered eagerly into our plans for the | |
extirpation of the fish of the neighbourhood. | |
"What about the Hall lake and the chance of a pike?" said Holmes. | |
The face of the innkeeper clouded. | |
"That wouldn't do, sir. You might chance to find yourself in the lake | |
before you were through." | |
"How's that, then?" | |
"It's Sir Robert, sir. He's terrible jealous of touts. If you two | |
strangers were as near his training quarters as that he'd be after | |
you as sure as fate. He ain't taking no chances, Sir Robert ain't." | |
"I've heard he has a horse entered for the Derby." | |
"Yes, and a good colt, too. He carries all our money for the race, | |
and all Sir Robert's into the bargain. By the way"--he looked at us | |
with thoughtful eyes--"I suppose you ain't on the turf yourselves?" | |
"No, indeed. Just two weary Londoners who badly need some good | |
Berkshire air." | |
"Well, you are in the right place for that. There is a deal of it | |
lying about. But mind what I have told you about Sir Robert. He's the | |
sort that strikes first and speaks afterwards. Keep clear of the | |
park." | |
"Surely, Mr. Barnes! We certainly shall. By the way, that was a most | |
beautiful spaniel that was whining in the hall." | |
"I should say it was. That was the real Shoscombe breed. There ain't | |
a better in England." | |
"I am a dog-fancier myself," said Holmes. "Now, if it is a fair | |
question, what would a prize dog like that cost?" | |
"More than I could pay, sir. It was Sir Robert himself who gave me | |
this one. That's why I have to keep it on a lead. It would be off to | |
the Hall in a jiffy if I gave it its head." | |
"We are getting some cards in our hand, Watson," said Holmes when the | |
landlord had left us. "It's not an easy one to play, but we may see | |
our way in a day or two. By the way, Sir Robert is still in London, I | |
hear. We might, perhaps, enter the sacred domain to-night without | |
fear of bodily assault. There are one or two points on which I should | |
like reassurance." | |
"Have you any theory, Holmes?" | |
"Only this, Watson, that something happened a week or so ago which | |
has cut deep into the life of the Shoscombe household. What is that | |
something? We can only guess at it from its effects. They seem to be | |
of a curiously mixed character. But that should surely help us. It is | |
only the colourless, uneventful case which is hopeless. | |
"Let us consider our data. The brother no longer visits the beloved | |
invalid sister. He gives away her favourite dog. Her dog, Watson! | |
Does that suggest nothing to you?" | |
"Nothing but the brother's spite." | |
"Well, it might be so. Or--well, there is an alternative. Now to | |
continue our review of the situation from the time that the quarrel, | |
if there is a quarrel, began. The lady keeps her room, alters her | |
habits, is not seen save when she drives out with her maid, refuses | |
to stop at the stables to greet her favourite horse, and apparently | |
takes to drink. That covers the case, does it not?" | |
"Save for the business in the crypt." | |
"That is another line of thought. There are two, and I beg you will | |
not tangle them. Line A, which concerns Lady Beatrice, has a vaguely | |
sinister flavour, has it not?" | |
"I can make nothing of it." | |
"Well, now, let us take up line B, which concerns Sir Robert. He is | |
mad keen upon winning the Derby. He is in the hands of the Jews, and | |
may at any moment be sold up and his racing stables seized by his | |
creditors. He is a daring and desperate man. He derives his income | |
from his sister. His sister's maid is his willing tool. So far we | |
seem to be on fairly safe ground, do we not?" | |
"But the crypt?" | |
"Ah, yes, the crypt! Let us suppose, Watson--it is merely a | |
scandalous supposition, a hypothesis put forward for argument's | |
sake--that Sir Robert has done away with his sister." | |
"My dear Holmes, it is out of the question." | |
"Very possibly, Watson. Sir Robert is a man of an honourable stock. | |
But you do occasionally find a carrion crow among the eagles. Let us | |
for a moment argue upon this supposition. He could not fly the | |
country until he had realized his fortune, and that fortune could | |
only be realized by bringing off this coup with Shoscombe Prince. | |
Therefore, he has still to stand his ground. To do this he would have | |
to dispose of the body of his victim, and he would also have to find | |
a substitute who would impersonate her. With the maid as his | |
confidante that would not be impossible. The woman's body might be | |
conveyed to the crypt, which is a place so seldom visited, and it | |
might be secretly destroyed at night in the furnace, leaving behind | |
it such evidence as we have already seen. What say you to that, | |
Watson?" | |
"Well, it is all possible if you grant the original monstrous | |
supposition." | |
"I think that there is a small experiment which we may try to-morrow, | |
Watson, in order to throw some light on the matter. Meanwhile, if we | |
mean to keep up our characters, I suggest that we have our host in | |
for a glass of his own wine and hold some high converse upon eels and | |
dace, which seems to be the straight road to his affections. We may | |
chance to come upon some useful local gossip in the process." | |
In the morning Holmes discovered that we had come without our | |
spoon-bait for jack, which absolved us from fishing for the day. | |
About eleven o'clock we started for a walk, and he obtained leave to | |
take the black spaniel with us. | |
"This is the place," said he as we came to two high park gates with | |
heraldic griffins towering above them. "About midday, Mr. Barnes | |
informs me, the old lady takes a drive, and the carriage must slow | |
down while the gates are opened. When it comes through, and before it | |
gathers speed, I want you, Watson, to stop the coachman with some | |
question. Never mind me. I shall stand behind this holly-bush and see | |
what I can see." | |
It was not a long vigil. Within a quarter of an hour we saw the big | |
open yellow barouche coming down the long avenue, with two splendid, | |
high-stepping gray carriage horses in the shafts. Holmes crouched | |
behind his bush with the dog. I stood unconcernedly swinging a cane | |
in the roadway. A keeper ran out and the gates swung open. | |
The carriage had slowed to a walk, and I was able to get a good look | |
at the occupants. A highly coloured young woman with flaxen hair and | |
impudent eyes sat on the left. At her right was an elderly person | |
with rounded back and a huddle of shawls about her face and shoulders | |
which proclaimed the invalid. When the horses reached the highroad I | |
held up my hand with an authoritative gesture, and as the coachman | |
pulled up I inquired if Sir Robert was at Shoscombe Old Place. | |
At the same moment Holmes stepped out and released the spaniel. With | |
a joyous cry it dashed forward to the carriage and sprang upon the | |
step. Then in a moment its eager greeting changed to furious rage, | |
and it snapped at the black skirt above it. | |
"Drive on! Drive on!" shrieked a harsh voice. The coachman lashed the | |
horses, and we were left standing in the roadway. | |
"Well, Watson, that's done it," said Holmes as he fastened the lead | |
to the neck of the excited spaniel. "He thought it was his mistress, | |
and he found it was a stranger. Dogs don't make mistakes." | |
"But it was the voice of a man!" I cried. | |
"Exactly! We have added one card to our hand, Watson, but it needs | |
careful playing, all the same." | |
My companion seemed to have no further plans for the day, and we did | |
actually use our fishing tackle in the mill-stream, with the result | |
that we had a dish of trout for our supper. It was only after that | |
meal that Holmes showed signs of renewed activity. Once more we found | |
ourselves upon the same road as in the morning, which led us to the | |
park gates. A tall, dark figure was awaiting us there, who proved to | |
be our London acquaintance, Mr. John Mason, the trainer. | |
"Good-evening, gentlemen," said he. "I got your note, Mr. Holmes. Sir | |
Robert has not returned yet, but I hear that he is expected | |
to-night." | |
"How far is this crypt from the house?" asked Holmes. | |
"A good quarter of a mile." | |
"Then I think we can disregard him altogether." | |
"I can't afford to do that, Mr. Holmes. The moment he arrives he will | |
want to see me to get the last news of Shoscombe Prince." | |
"I see! In that case we must work without you, Mr. Mason. You can | |
show us the crypt and then leave us." | |
It was pitch-dark and without a moon, but Mason led us over the | |
grass-lands until a dark mass loomed up in front of us which proved | |
to be the ancient chapel. We entered the broken gap which was once | |
the porch, and our guide, stumbling among heaps of loose masonry, | |
picked his way to the corner of the building, where a steep stair led | |
down into the crypt. Striking a match, he illuminated the melancholy | |
place--dismal and evil-smelling, with ancient crumbling walls of | |
rough-hewn stone, and piles of coffins, some of lead and some of | |
stone, extending upon one side right up to the arched and groined | |
roof which lost itself in the shadows above our heads. Holmes had lit | |
his lantern, which shot a tiny tunnel of vivid yellow light upon the | |
mournful scene. Its rays were reflected back from the coffin-plates, | |
many of them adorned with the griffin and coronet of this old family | |
which carried its honours even to the gate of Death. | |
"You spoke of some bones, Mr. Mason. Could you show them before you | |
go?" | |
"They are here in this corner." The trainer strode across and then | |
stood in silent surprise as our light was turned upon the place. | |
"They are gone," said he. | |
"So I expected," said Holmes, chuckling. "I fancy the ashes of them | |
might even now be found in that oven which had already consumed a | |
part." | |
"But why in the world would anyone want to burn the bones of a man | |
who has been dead a thousand years?" asked John Mason. | |
"That is what we are here to find out," said Holmes. "It may mean a | |
long search, and we need not detain you. I fancy that we shall get | |
our solution before morning." | |
When John Mason had left us, Holmes set to work making a very careful | |
examination of the graves, ranging from a very ancient one, which | |
appeared to be Saxon, in the centre, through a long line of Norman | |
Hugos and Odos, until we reached the Sir William and Sir Denis Falder | |
of the eighteenth century. It was an hour or more before Holmes came | |
to a leaden coffin standing on end before the entrance to the vault. | |
I heard his little cry of satisfaction and was aware from his hurried | |
but purposeful movements that he had reached a goal. With his lens he | |
was eagerly examining the edges of the heavy lid. Then he drew from | |
his pocket a short jemmy, a box-opener, which he thrust into a chink, | |
levering back the whole front, which seemed to be secured by only a | |
couple of clamps. There was a rending, tearing sound as it gave way, | |
but it had hardly hinged back and partly revealed the contents before | |
we had an unforeseen interruption. | |
Someone was walking in the chapel above. It was the firm, rapid step | |
of one who came with a definite purpose and knew well the ground upon | |
which he walked. A light streamed down the stairs, and an instant | |
later the man who bore it was framed in the Gothic archway. He was a | |
terrible figure, huge in stature and fierce in manner. A large | |
stable-lantern which he held in front of him shone upward upon a | |
strong, heavily moustached face and angry eyes, which glared round | |
him into every recess of the vault, finally fixing themselves with a | |
deadly stare upon my companion and myself. | |
"Who the devil are you?" he thundered. "And what are you doing upon | |
my property?" Then, as Holmes returned no answer, he took a couple of | |
steps forward and raised a heavy stick which he carried. "Do you hear | |
me?" he cried. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" His cudgel | |
quivered in the air. | |
But instead of shrinking Holmes advanced to meet him. | |
"I also have a question to ask you, Sir Robert," he said in his | |
sternest tone. "Who is this? And what is it doing here?" | |
He turned and tore open the coffin-lid behind him. In the glare of | |
the lantern I saw a body swathed in a sheet from head to foot, with | |
dreadful, witch-like features, all nose and chin, projecting at one | |
end, the dim, glazed eyes staring from a discoloured and crumbling | |
face. | |
The baronet had staggered back with a cry and supported himself | |
against a stone sarcophagus. | |
"How came you to know of this?" he cried. And then, with some return | |
of his truculent manner: "What business is it of yours?" | |
"My name is Sherlock Holmes," said my companion. "Possibly it is | |
familiar to you. In any case, my business is that of every other good | |
citizen--to uphold the law. It seems to me that you have much to | |
answer for." | |
Sir Robert glared for a moment, but Holmes's quiet voice and cool, | |
assured manner had their effect. | |
"'Fore God, Mr. Holmes, it's all right," said he. "Appearances are | |
against me, I'll admit, but I could act no otherwise." | |
"I should be happy to think so, but I fear your explanations must be | |
before the police." | |
Sir Robert shrugged his broad shoulders. | |
"Well, if it must be, it must. Come up to the house and you can judge | |
for yourself how the matter stands." | |
A quarter of an hour later we found ourselves in what I judge, from | |
the lines of polished barrels behind glass covers, to be the gun-room | |
of the old house. It was comfortably furnished, and here Sir Robert | |
left us for a few moments. When he returned he had two companions | |
with him; the one, the florid young woman whom we had seen in the | |
carriage; the other, a small rat-faced man with a disagreeably | |
furtive manner. These two wore an appearance of utter bewilderment, | |
which showed that the baronet had not yet had time to explain to them | |
the turn events had taken. | |
"There," said Sir Robert with a wave of his hand, "are Mr. and Mrs. | |
Norlett. Mrs. Norlett, under her maiden name of Evans, has for some | |
years been my sister's confidential maid. I have brought them here | |
because I feel that my best course is to explain the true position to | |
you, and they are the two people upon earth who can substantiate what | |
I say." | |
"Is this necessary, Sir Robert? Have you thought what you are doing?" | |
cried the woman. | |
"As to me, I entirely disclaim all responsibility," said her husband. | |
Sir Robert gave him a glance of contempt. "I will take all | |
responsibility," said he. "Now, Mr. Holmes, listen to a plain | |
statement of the facts. | |
"You have clearly gone pretty deeply into my affairs or I should not | |
have found you where I did. Therefore, you know already, in all | |
probability, that I am running a dark horse for the Derby and that | |
everything depends upon my success. If I win, all is easy. If I | |
lose--well, I dare not think of that!" | |
"I understand the position," said Holmes. | |
"I am dependent upon my sister, Lady Beatrice, for everything. But it | |
is well known that her interest in the estate is for her own life | |
only. For myself, I am deeply in the hands of the Jews. I have always | |
known that if my sister were to die my creditors would be on to my | |
estate like a flock of vultures. Everything would be seized--my | |
stables, my horses--everything. Well, Mr. Holmes, my sister did die | |
just a week ago." | |
"And you told no one!" | |
"What could I do? Absolute ruin faced me. If I could stave things off | |
for three weeks all would be well. Her maid's husband--this man | |
here--is an actor. It came into our heads--it came into my head--that | |
he could for that short period personate my sister. It was but a case | |
of appearing daily in the carriage, for no one need enter her room | |
save the maid. It was not difficult to arrange. My sister died of the | |
dropsy which had long afflicted her." | |
"That will be for a coroner to decide." | |
"Her doctor would certify that for months her symptoms have | |
threatened such an end." | |
"Well, what did you do?" | |
"The body could not remain there. On the first night Norlett and I | |
carried it out to the old well-house, which is now never used. We | |
were followed, however, by her pet spaniel, which yapped continually | |
at the door, so I felt some safer place was needed. I got rid of the | |
spaniel, and we carried the body to the crypt of the church. There | |
was no indignity or irreverence, Mr. Holmes. I do not feel that I | |
have wronged the dead." | |
"Your conduct seems to me inexcusable, Sir Robert." | |
The baronet shook his head impatiently. "It is easy to preach," said | |
he. "Perhaps you would have felt differently if you had been in my | |
position. One cannot see all one's hopes and all one's plans | |
shattered at the last moment and make no effort to save them. It | |
seemed to me that it would be no unworthy resting-place if we put her | |
for the time in one of the coffins of her husband's ancestors lying | |
in what is still consecrated ground. We opened such a coffin, removed | |
the contents, and placed her as you have seen her. As to the old | |
relics which we took out, we could not leave them on the floor of the | |
crypt. Norlett and I removed them, and he descended at night and | |
burned them in the central furnace. There is my story, Mr. Holmes, | |
though how you forced my hand so that I have to tell it is more than | |
I can say." | |
Holmes sat for some time lost in thought. | |
"There is one flaw in your narrative, Sir Robert," he said at last. | |
"Your bets on the race, and therefore your hopes for the future, | |
would hold good even if your creditors seized your estate." | |
"The horse would be part of the estate. What do they care for my | |
bets? As likely as not they would not run him at all. My chief | |
creditor is, unhappily, my most bitter enemy--a rascally fellow, Sam | |
Brewer, whom I was once compelled to horsewhip on Newmarket Heath. Do | |
you suppose that he would try to save me?" | |
"Well, Sir Robert," said Holmes, rising, "this matter must, of | |
course, be referred to the police. It was my duty to bring the facts | |
to light, and there I must leave it. As to the morality or decency of | |
your conduct, it is not for me to express an opinion. It is nearly | |
midnight, Watson, and I think we may make our way back to our humble | |
abode." | |
It is generally known now that this singular episode ended upon a | |
happier note than Sir Robert's actions deserved. Shoscombe Prince did | |
win the Derby, the sporting owner did net eighty thousand pounds in | |
bets, and the creditors did hold their hand until the race was over, | |
when they were paid in full, and enough was left to reestablish Sir | |
Robert in a fair position in life. Both police and coroner took a | |
lenient view of the transaction, and beyond a mild censure for the | |
delay in registering the lady's decease, the lucky owner got away | |
scatheless from this strange incident in a career which has now | |
outlived its shadows and promises to end in an honoured old age. | |
THE ADVENTURE OF THE RETIRED COLOURMAN | |
Sherlock Holmes was in a melancholy and philosophic mood that | |
morning. His alert practical nature was subject to such reactions. | |
"Did you see him?" he asked. | |
"You mean the old fellow who has just gone out?" | |
"Precisely." | |
"Yes, I met him at the door." | |
"What did you think of him?" | |
"A pathetic, futile, broken creature." | |
"Exactly, Watson. Pathetic and futile. But is not all life pathetic | |
and futile? Is not his story a microcosm of the whole? We reach. We | |
grasp. And what is left in our hands at the end? A shadow. Or worse | |
than a shadow--misery." | |
"Is he one of your clients?" | |
"Well, I suppose I may call him so. He has been sent on by the Yard. | |
Just as medical men occasionally send their incurables to a quack. | |
They argue that they can do nothing more, and that whatever happens | |
the patient can be no worse than he is." | |
"What is the matter?" | |
Holmes took a rather soiled card from the table. "Josiah Amberley. He | |
says he was junior partner of Brickfall and Amberley, who are | |
manufacturers of artistic materials. You will see their names upon | |
paint-boxes. He made his little pile, retired from business at the | |
age of sixty-one, bought a house at Lewisham, and settled down to | |
rest after a life of ceaseless grind. One would think his future was | |
tolerably assured." | |
"Yes, indeed." | |
Holmes glanced over some notes which he had scribbled upon the back | |
of an envelope. | |
"Retired in 1896, Watson. Early in 1897 he married a woman twenty | |
years younger than himself--a good-looking woman, too, if the | |
photograph does not flatter. A competence, a wife, leisure--it seemed | |
a straight road which lay before him. And yet within two years he is, | |
as you have seen, as broken and miserable a creature as crawls | |
beneath the sun." | |
"But what has happened?" | |
"The old story, Watson. A treacherous friend and a fickle wife. It | |
would appear that Amberley has one hobby in life, and it is chess. | |
Not far from him at Lewisham there lives a young doctor who is also a | |
chess-player. I have noted his name as Dr. Ray Ernest. Ernest was | |
frequently in the house, and an intimacy between him and Mrs. | |
Amberley was a natural sequence, for you must admit that our | |
unfortunate client has few outward graces, whatever his inner virtues | |
may be. The couple went off together last week--destination untraced. | |
What is more, the faithless spouse carried off the old man's deed-box | |
as her personal luggage with a good part of his life's savings | |
within. Can we find the lady? Can we save the money? A commonplace | |
problem so far as it has developed, and yet a vital one for Josiah | |
Amberley." | |
"What will you do about it?" | |
"Well, the immediate question, my dear Watson, happens to be, What | |
will you do?--if you will be good enough to understudy me. You know | |
that I am preoccupied with this case of the two Coptic Patriarchs, | |
which should come to a head to-day. I really have not time to go out | |
to Lewisham, and yet evidence taken on the spot has a special value. | |
The old fellow was quite insistent that I should go, but I explained | |
my difficulty. He is prepared to meet a representative." | |
"By all means," I answered. "I confess I don't see that I can be of | |
much service, but I am willing to do my best." And so it was that on | |
a summer afternoon I set forth to Lewisham, little dreaming that | |
within a week the affair in which I was engaging would be the eager | |
debate of all England. | |
It was late that evening before I returned to Baker Street and gave | |
an account of my mission. Holmes lay with his gaunt figure stretched | |
in his deep chair, his pipe curling forth slow wreaths of acrid | |
tobacco, while his eyelids drooped over his eyes so lazily that he | |
might almost have been asleep were it not that at any halt or | |
questionable passage of my narrative they half lifted, and two gray | |
eyes, as bright and keen as rapiers, transfixed me with their | |
searching glance. | |
"The Haven is the name of Mr. Josiah Amberley's house," I explained. | |
"I think it would interest you, Holmes. It is like some penurious | |
patrician who has sunk into the company of his inferiors. You know | |
that particular quarter, the monotonous brick streets, the weary | |
suburban highways. Right in the middle of them, a little island of | |
ancient culture and comfort, lies this old home, surrounded by a high | |
sun-baked wall mottled with lichens and topped with moss, the sort of | |
wall--" | |
"Cut out the poetry, Watson," said Holmes severely. "I note that it | |
was a high brick wall." | |
"Exactly. I should not have known which was The Haven had I not asked | |
a lounger who was smoking in the street. I have a reason for | |
mentioning him. He was a tall, dark, heavily moustached, rather | |
military-looking man. He nodded in answer to my inquiry and gave me a | |
curiously questioning glance, which came back to my memory a little | |
later. | |
"I had hardly entered the gateway before I saw Mr. Amberley coming | |
down the drive. I only had a glimpse of him this morning, and he | |
certainly gave me the impression of a strange creature, but when I | |
saw him in full light his appearance was even more abnormal." | |
"I have, of course, studied it, and yet I should be interested to | |
have your impression," said Holmes. | |
"He seemed to me like a man who was literally bowed down by care. His | |
back was curved as though he carried a heavy burden. Yet he was not | |
the weakling that I had at first imagined, for his shoulders and | |
chest have the framework of a giant, though his figure tapers away | |
into a pair of spindled legs." | |
"Left shoe wrinkled, right one smooth." | |
"I did not observe that." | |
"No, you wouldn't. I spotted his artificial limb. But proceed." | |
"I was struck by the snaky locks of grizzled hair which curled from | |
under his old straw hat, and his face with its fierce, eager | |
expression and the deeply lined features." | |
"Very good, Watson. What did he say?" | |
"He began pouring out the story of his grievances. We walked down the | |
drive together, and of course I took a good look round. I have never | |
seen a worse-kept place. The garden was all running to seed, giving | |
me an impression of wild neglect in which the plants had been allowed | |
to find the way of Nature rather than of art. How any decent woman | |
could have tolerated such a state of things, I don't know. The house, | |
too, was slatternly to the last degree, but the poor man seemed | |
himself to be aware of it and to be trying to remedy it, for a great | |
pot of green paint stood in the centre of the hall, and he was | |
carrying a thick brush in his left hand. He had been working on the | |
woodwork. | |
"He took me into his dingy sanctum, and we had a long chat. Of | |
course, he was disappointed that you had not come yourself. 'I hardly | |
expected,' he said, 'that so humble an individual as myself, | |
especially after my heavy financial loss, could obtain the complete | |
attention of so famous a man as Mr. Sherlock Holmes.' | |
"I assured him that the financial question did not arise. 'No, of | |
course, it is art for art's sake with him,' said he, 'but even on the | |
artistic side of crime he might have found something here to study. | |
And human nature, Dr. Watson--the black ingratitude of it all! When | |
did I ever refuse one of her requests? Was ever a woman so pampered? | |
And that young man--he might have been my own son. He had the run of | |
my house. And yet see how they have treated me! Oh, Dr. Watson, it is | |
a dreadful, dreadful world!' | |
"That was the burden of his song for an hour or more. He had, it | |
seems, no suspicion of an intrigue. They lived alone save for a woman | |
who comes in by the day and leaves every evening at six. On that | |
particular evening old Amberley, wishing to give his wife a treat, | |
had taken two upper circle seats at the Haymarket Theatre. At the | |
last moment she had complained of a headache and had refused to go. | |
He had gone alone. There seemed to be no doubt about the fact, for he | |
produced the unused ticket which he had taken for his wife." | |
"That is remarkable--most remarkable," said Holmes, whose interest in | |
the case seemed to be rising. "Pray continue, Watson. I find your | |
narrative most arresting. Did you personally examine this ticket? You | |
did not, perchance, take the number?" | |
"It so happens that I did," I answered with some pride. "It chanced | |
to be my old school number, thirty-one, and so is stuck in my head." | |
"Excellent, Watson! His seat, then, was either thirty or thirty-two." | |
"Quite so," I answered with some mystification. "And on B row." | |
"That is most satisfactory. What else did he tell you?" | |
"He showed me his strong-room, as he called it. It really is a | |
strong-room--like a bank--with iron door and shutter--burglar-proof, | |
as he claimed. However, the woman seems to have had a duplicate key, | |
and between them they had carried off some seven thousand pounds' | |
worth of cash and securities." | |
"Securities! How could they dispose of those?" | |
"He said that he had given the police a list and that he hoped they | |
would be unsaleable. He had got back from the theatre about midnight | |
and found the place plundered, the door and window open, and the | |
fugitives gone. There was no letter or message, nor has he heard a | |
word since. He at once gave the alarm to the police." | |
Holmes brooded for some minutes. | |
"You say he was painting. What was he painting?" | |
"Well, he was painting the passage. But he had already painted the | |
door and woodwork of this room I spoke of." | |
"Does it not strike you as a strange occupation in the | |
circumstances?" | |
"'One must do something to ease an aching heart.' That was his own | |
explanation. It was eccentric, no doubt, but he is clearly an | |
eccentric man. He tore up one of his wife's photographs in my | |
presence--tore it up furiously in a tempest of passion. 'I never wish | |
to see her damned face again,' he shrieked." | |
"Anything more, Watson?" | |
"Yes, one thing which struck me more than anything else. I had driven | |
to the Blackheath Station and had caught my train there when, just as | |
it was starting, I saw a man dart into the carriage next to my own. | |
You know that I have a quick eye for faces, Holmes. It was | |
undoubtedly the tall, dark man whom I had addressed in the street. I | |
saw him once more at London Bridge, and then I lost him in the crowd. | |
But I am convinced that he was following me." | |
"No doubt! No doubt!" said Holmes. "A tall, dark, heavily moustached | |
man, you say, with gray-tinted sun-glasses?" | |
"Holmes, you are a wizard. I did not say so, but he had gray-tinted | |
sun-glasses." | |
"And a Masonic tie-pin?" | |
"Holmes!" | |
"Quite simple, my dear Watson. But let us get down to what is | |
practical. I must admit to you that the case, which seemed to me to | |
be so absurdly simple as to be hardly worth my notice, is rapidly | |
assuming a very different aspect. It is true that though in your | |
mission you have missed everything of importance, yet even those | |
things which have obtruded themselves upon your notice give rise to | |
serious thought." | |
"What have I missed?" | |
"Don't be hurt, my dear fellow. You know that I am quite impersonal. | |
No one else would have done better. Some possibly not so well. But | |
clearly you have missed some vital points. What is the opinion of the | |
neighbours about this man Amberley and his wife? That surely is of | |
importance. What of Dr. Ernest? Was he the gay Lothario one would | |
expect? With your natural advantages, Watson, every lady is your | |
helper and accomplice. What about the girl at the post-office, or the | |
wife of the greengrocer? I can picture you whispering soft nothings | |
with the young lady at the Blue Anchor, and receiving hard somethings | |
in exchange. All this you have left undone." | |
"It can still be done." | |
"It has been done. Thanks to the telephone and the help of the Yard, | |
I can usually get my essentials without leaving this room. As a | |
matter of fact, my information confirms the man's story. He has the | |
local repute of being a miser as well as a harsh and exacting | |
husband. That he had a large sum of money in that strong-room of his | |
is certain. So also is it that young Dr. Ernest, an unmarried man, | |
played chess with Amberley, and probably played the fool with his | |
wife. All this seems plain sailing, and one would think that there | |
was no more to be said--and yet!--and yet!" | |
"Where lies the difficulty?" | |
"In my imagination, perhaps. Well, leave it there, Watson. Let us | |
escape from this weary workaday world by the side door of music. | |
Carina sings to-night at the Albert Hall, and we still have time to | |
dress, dine, and enjoy." | |
In the morning I was up betimes, but some toast crumbs and two empty | |
egg-shells told me that my companion was earlier still. I found a | |
scribbled note upon the table. | |
Dear Watson: | |
There are one or two points of contact which I should wish to | |
establish with Mr. Josiah Amberley. When I have done so we can | |
dismiss the case--or not. I would only ask you to be on hand about | |
three o'clock, as I conceive it possible that I may want you. | |
S. H. | |
I saw nothing of Holmes all day, but at the hour named he returned, | |
grave, preoccupied, and aloof. At such times it was wiser to leave | |
him to himself. | |
"Has Amberley been here yet?" | |
"No." | |
"Ah! I am expecting him." | |
He was not disappointed, for presently the old fellow arrived with a | |
very worried and puzzled expression upon his austere face. | |
"I've had a telegram, Mr. Holmes. I can make nothing of it." He | |
handed it over, and Holmes read it aloud. | |
"Come at once without fail. Can give you information as to your | |
recent loss. | |
"Elman. | |
"The Vicarage. | |
"Dispatched at 2.10 from Little Purlington," said Holmes. "Little | |
Purlington is in Essex, I believe, not far from Frinton. Well, of | |
course you will start at once. This is evidently from a responsible | |
person, the vicar of the place. Where is my Crockford? Yes, here we | |
have him: 'J. C. Elman, M. A., Living of Moosmoor cum Little | |
Purlington.' Look up the trains, Watson." | |
"There is one at 5.20 from Liverpool Street." | |
"Excellent. You had best go with him, Watson. He may need help or | |
advice. Clearly we have come to a crisis in this affair." | |
But our client seemed by no means eager to start. | |
"It's perfectly absurd, Mr. Holmes," he said. "What can this man | |
possibly know of what has occurred? It is waste of time and money." | |
"He would not have telegraphed to you if he did not know something. | |
Wire at once that you are coming." | |
"I don't think I shall go." | |
Holmes assumed his sternest aspect. | |
"It would make the worst possible impression both on the police and | |
upon myself, Mr. Amberley, if when so obvious a clue arose you should | |
refuse to follow it up. We should feel that you were not really in | |
earnest in this investigation." | |
Our client seemed horrified at the suggestion. | |
"Why, of course I shall go if you look at it in that way," said he. | |
"On the face of it, it seems absurd to suppose that this person knows | |
anything, but if you think--" | |
"I do think," said Holmes with emphasis, and so we were launched upon | |
our journey. Holmes took me aside before we left the room and gave me | |
one word of counsel, which showed that he considered the matter to be | |
of importance. "Whatever you do, see that he really does go," said | |
he. "Should he break away or return, get to the nearest telephone | |
exchange and send the single word 'Bolted.' I will arrange here that | |
it shall reach me wherever I am." | |
Little Purlington is not an easy place to reach, for it is on a | |
branch line. My remembrance of the journey is not a pleasant one, for | |
the weather was hot, the train slow, and my companion sullen and | |
silent, hardly talking at all save to make an occasional sardonic | |
remark as to the futility of our proceedings. When we at last reached | |
the little station it was a two-mile drive before we came to the | |
Vicarage, where a big, solemn, rather pompous clergyman received us | |
in his study. Our telegram lay before him. | |
"Well, gentlemen," he asked, "what can I do for you?" | |
"We came," I explained, "in answer to your wire." | |
"My wire! I sent no wire." | |
"I mean the wire which you sent to Mr. Josiah Amberley about his wife | |
and his money." | |
"If this is a joke, sir, it is a very questionable one," said the | |
vicar angrily. "I have never heard of the gentleman you name, and I | |
have not sent a wire to anyone." | |
Our client and I looked at each other in amazement. | |
"Perhaps there is some mistake," said I; "are there perhaps two | |
vicarages? Here is the wire itself, signed Elman and dated from the | |
Vicarage." | |
"There is only one vicarage, sir, and only one vicar, and this wire | |
is a scandalous forgery, the origin of which shall certainly be | |
investigated by the police. Meanwhile, I can see no possible object | |
in prolonging this interview." | |
So Mr. Amberley and I found ourselves on the roadside in what seemed | |
to me to be the most primitive village in England. We made for the | |
telegraph office, but it was already closed. There was a telephone, | |
however, at the little Railway Arms, and by it I got into touch with | |
Holmes, who shared in our amazement at the result of our journey. | |
"Most singular!" said the distant voice. "Most remarkable! I much | |
fear, my dear Watson, that there is no return train to-night. I have | |
unwittingly condemned you to the horrors of a country inn. However, | |
there is always Nature, Watson--Nature and Josiah Amberley--you can | |
be in close commune with both." I heard his dry chuckle as he turned | |
away. | |
It was soon apparent to me that my companion's reputation as a miser | |
was not undeserved. He had grumbled at the expense of the journey, | |
had insisted upon travelling third-class, and was now clamorous in | |
his objections to the hotel bill. Next morning, when we did at last | |
arrive in London, it was hard to say which of us was in the worse | |
humour. | |
"You had best take Baker Street as we pass," said I. "Mr. Holmes may | |
have some fresh instructions." | |
"If they are not worth more than the last ones they are not of much | |
use, " said Amberley with a malevolent scowl. None the less, he kept | |
me company. I had already warned Holmes by telegram of the hour of | |
our arrival, but we found a message waiting that he was at Lewisham | |
and would expect us there. That was a surprise, but an even greater | |
one was to find that he was not alone in the sitting-room of our | |
client. A stern-looking, impassive man sat beside him, a dark man | |
with gray-tinted glasses and a large Masonic pin projecting from his | |
tie. | |
"This is my friend Mr. Barker," said Holmes. "He has been interesting | |
himself also in your business, Mr. Josiah Amberley, though we have | |
been working independently. But we both have the same question to ask | |
you!" | |
Mr. Amberley sat down heavily. He sensed impending danger. I read it | |
in his straining eyes and his twitching features. | |
"What is the question, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Only this: What did you do with the bodies?" | |
The man sprang to his feet with a hoarse scream. He clawed into the | |
air with his bony hands. His mouth was open, and for the instant he | |
looked like some horrible bird of prey. In a flash we got a glimpse | |
of the real Josiah Amberley, a misshapen demon with a soul as | |
distorted as his body. As he fell back into his chair he clapped his | |
hand to his lips as if to stifle a cough. Holmes sprang at his throat | |
like a tiger and twisted his face towards the ground. A white pellet | |
fell from between his gasping lips. | |
"No short cuts, Josiah Amberley. Things must be done decently and in | |
order. What about it, Barker?" | |
"I have a cab at the door," said our taciturn companion. | |
"It is only a few hundred yards to the station. We will go together. | |
You can stay here, Watson. I shall be back within half an hour." | |
The old colourman had the strength of a lion in that great trunk of | |
his, but he was helpless in the hands of the two experienced | |
man-handlers. Wriggling and twisting he was dragged to the waiting | |
cab, and I was left to my solitary vigil in the ill-omened house. In | |
less time than he had named, however, Holmes was back, in company | |
with a smart young police inspector. | |
"I've left Barker to look after the formalities," said Holmes. "You | |
had not met Barker, Watson. He is my hated rival upon the Surrey | |
shore. When you said a tall dark man it was not difficult for me to | |
complete the picture. He has several good cases to his credit, has he | |
not, Inspector?" | |
"He has certainly interfered several times," the inspector answered | |
with reserve. | |
"His methods are irregular, no doubt, like my own. The irregulars are | |
useful sometimes, you know. You, for example, with your compulsory | |
warning about whatever he said being used against him, could never | |
have bluffed this rascal into what is virtually a confession." | |
"Perhaps not. But we get there all the same, Mr. Holmes. Don't | |
imagine that we had not formed our own views of this case, and that | |
we would not have laid our hands on our man. You will excuse us for | |
feeling sore when you jump in with methods which we cannot use, and | |
so rob us of the credit." | |
"There shall be no such robbery, MacKinnon. I assure you that I | |
efface myself from now onward, and as to Barker, he has done nothing | |
save what I told him." | |
The inspector seemed considerably relieved. | |
"That is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. Praise or blame can matter | |
little to you, but it is very different to us when the newspapers | |
begin to ask questions." | |
"Quite so. But they are pretty sure to ask questions anyhow, so it | |
would be as well to have answers. What will you say, for example, | |
when the intelligent and enterprising reporter asks you what the | |
exact points were which aroused your suspicion, and finally gave you | |
a certain conviction as to the real facts?" | |
The inspector looked puzzled. | |
"We don't seem to have got any real facts yet, Mr. Holmes. You say | |
that the prisoner, in the presence of three witnesses, practically | |
confessed by trying to commit suicide, that he had murdered his wife | |
and her lover. What other facts have you?" | |
"Have you arranged for a search?" | |
"There are three constables on their way." | |
"Then you will soon get the clearest fact of all. The bodies cannot | |
be far away. Try the cellars and the garden. It should not take long | |
to dig up the likely places. This house is older than the | |
water-pipes. There must be a disused well somewhere. Try your luck | |
there." | |
"But how did you know of it, and how was it done?" | |
"I'll show you first how it was done, and then I will give the | |
explanation which is due to you, and even more to my long-suffering | |
friend here, who has been invaluable throughout. But, first, I would | |
give you an insight into this man's mentality. It is a very unusual | |
one--so much so that I think his destination is more likely to be | |
Broadmoor than the scaffold. He has, to a high degree, the sort of | |
mind which one associates with the mediaeval Italian nature rather | |
than with the modern Briton. He was a miserable miser who made his | |
wife so wretched by his niggardly ways that she was a ready prey for | |
any adventurer. Such a one came upon the scene in the person of this | |
chess-playing doctor. Amberley excelled at chess--one mark, Watson, | |
of a scheming mind. Like all misers, he was a jealous man, and his | |
jealousy became a frantic mania. Rightly or wrongly, he suspected an | |
intrigue. He determined to have his revenge, and he planned it with | |
diabolical cleverness. Come here!" | |
Holmes led us along the passage with as much certainty as if he had | |
lived in the house and halted at the open door of the strong-room. | |
"Pooh! What an awful smell of paint!" cried the inspector. | |
"That was our first clue," said Holmes. "You can thank Dr. Watson's | |
observation for that, though he failed to draw the inference. It set | |
my foot upon the trail. Why should this man at such a time be filling | |
his house with strong odours? Obviously, to cover some other smell | |
which he wished to conceal--some guilty smell which would suggest | |
suspicions. Then came the idea of a room such as you see here with | |
iron door and shutter--a hermetically sealed room. Put those two | |
facts together, and whither do they lead? I could only determine that | |
by examining the house myself. I was already certain that the case | |
was serious, for I had examined the box-office chart at the Haymarket | |
Theatre--another of Dr. Watson's bull's-eyes--and ascertained that | |
neither B thirty nor thirty-two of the upper circle had been occupied | |
that night. Therefore, Amberley had not been to the theatre, and his | |
alibi fell to the ground. He made a bad slip when he allowed my | |
astute friend to notice the number of the seat taken for his wife. | |
The question now arose how I might be able to examine the house. I | |
sent an agent to the most impossible village I could think of, and | |
summoned my man to it at such an hour that he could not possibly get | |
back. To prevent any miscarriage, Dr. Watson accompanied him. The | |
good vicar's name I took, of course, out of my Crockford. Do I make | |
it all clear to you?" | |
"It is masterly," said the inspector in an awed voice. | |
"There being no fear of interruption I proceeded to burgle the house. | |
Burglary has always been an alternative profession had I cared to | |
adopt it, and I have little doubt that I should have come to the | |
front. Observe what I found. You see the gas-pipe along the skirting | |
here. Very good. It rises in the angle of the wall, and there is a | |
tap here in the corner. The pipe runs out into the strong-room, as | |
you can see, and ends in that plaster rose in the centre of the | |
ceiling, where it is concealed by the ornamentation. That end is wide | |
open. At any moment by turning the outside tap the room could be | |
flooded with gas. With door and shutter closed and the tap full on I | |
would not give two minutes of conscious sensation to anyone shut up | |
in that little chamber. By what devilish device he decoyed them there | |
I do not know, but once inside the door they were at his mercy." | |
The inspector examined the pipe with interest. "One of our officers | |
mentioned the smell of gas," said he, "but of course the window and | |
door were open then, and the paint--or some of it--was already about. | |
He had begun the work of painting the day before, according to his | |
story. But what next, Mr. Holmes?" | |
"Well, then came an incident which was rather unexpected to myself. I | |
was slipping through the pantry window in the early dawn when I felt | |
a hand inside my collar, and a voice said: 'Now, you rascal, what are | |
you doing in there?' When I could twist my head round I looked into | |
the tinted spectacles of my friend and rival, Mr. Barker. It was a | |
curious foregathering and set us both smiling. It seems that he had | |
been engaged by Dr. Ray Ernest's family to make some investigations | |
and had come to the same conclusion as to foul play. He had watched | |
the house for some days and had spotted Dr. Watson as one of the | |
obviously suspicious characters who had called there. He could hardly | |
arrest Watson, but when he saw a man actually climbing out of the | |
pantry window there came a limit to his restraint. Of course, I told | |
him how matters stood and we continued the case together." | |
"Why him? Why not us?" | |
"Because it was in my mind to put that little test which answered so | |
admirably. I fear you would not have gone so far." | |
The inspector smiled. | |
"Well, maybe not. I understand that I have your word, Mr. Holmes, | |
that you step right out of the case now and that you turn all your | |
results over to us." | |
"Certainly, that is always my custom." | |
"Well, in the name of the force I thank you. It seems a clear case, | |
as you put it, and there can't be much difficulty over the bodies." | |
"I'll show you a grim little bit of evidence," said Holmes, "and I am | |
sure Amberley himself never observed it. You'll get results, | |
Inspector, by always putting yourself in the other fellow's place, | |
and thinking what you would do yourself. It takes some imagination, | |
but it pays. Now, we will suppose that you were shut up in this | |
little room, had not two minutes to live, but wanted to get even with | |
the fiend who was probably mocking at you from the other side of the | |
door. What would you do?" | |
"Write a message." | |
"Exactly. You would like to tell people how you died. No use writing | |
on paper. That would be seen. If you wrote on the wall someone might | |
rest upon it. Now, look here! Just above the skirting is scribbled | |
with a purple indelible pencil: 'We we--' That's all." | |
"What do you make of that?" | |
"Well, it's only a foot above the ground. The poor devil was on the | |
floor dying when he wrote it. He lost his senses before he could | |
finish." | |
"He was writing, 'We were murdered.'" | |
"That's how I read it. If you find an indelible pencil on the body--" | |
"We'll look out for it, you may be sure. But those securities? | |
Clearly there was no robbery at all. And yet he did possess those | |
bonds. We verified that." | |
"You may be sure he has them hidden in a safe place. When the whole | |
elopement had passed into history, he would suddenly discover them | |
and announce that the guilty couple had relented and sent back the | |
plunder or had dropped it on the way." | |
"You certainly seem to have met every difficulty," said the | |
inspector. "Of course, he was bound to call us in, but why he should | |
have gone to you I can't understand." | |
"Pure swank!" Holmes answered. "He felt so clever and so sure of | |
himself that he imagined no one could touch him. He could say to any | |
suspicious neighbour, 'Look at the steps I have taken. I have | |
consulted not only the police but even Sherlock Holmes.'" | |
The inspector laughed. | |
"We must forgive you your 'even,' Mr. Holmes," said he, "it's as | |
workmanlike a job as I can remember." | |
A couple of days later my friend tossed across to me a copy of the | |
bi-weekly North Surrey Observer. Under a series of flaming headlines, | |
which began with "The Haven Horror" and ended with "Brilliant Police | |
Investigation," there was a packed column of print which gave the | |
first consecutive account of the affair. The concluding paragraph is | |
typical of the whole. It ran thus: | |
The remarkable acumen by which Inspector MacKinnon deduced from the | |
smell of paint that some other smell, that of gas, for example, might | |
be concealed; the bold deduction that the strong-room might also be | |
the death-chamber, and the subsequent inquiry which led to the | |
discovery of the bodies in a disused well, cleverly concealed by a | |
dog-kennel, should live in the history of crime as a standing example | |
of the intelligence of our professional detectives. | |
"Well, well, MacKinnon is a good fellow," said Holmes with a tolerant | |
smile. "You can file it in our archives, Watson. Some day the true | |
story may be told." | |
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