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"The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes"
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THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE
CARBUNCLE
I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning
after Christmas, with the intention of wishing
him the compliments of the season. He was
lounging upon the sofa in a purple
dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon
the right, and a pile of crumpled morning
papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand.
Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the
angle of the back hung a very seedy and
disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for
wear, and cracked in several places. A lens and
a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair
suggested that the hat had been suspended in
this manner for the purpose of examination.
"You are engaged," said I; "perhaps I
interrupt you."
"Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with
whom I can discuss my results. The matter is a
perfectly trivial one"--he jerked his thumb in
the direction of the old hat--"but there are
points in connection with it which are not
entirely devoid of interest and even of
instruction."
I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my
hands before his crackling fire, for a sharp
frost had set in, and the windows were thick
with the ice crystals. "I suppose," I remarked,
"that, homely as it looks, this thing has some
deadly story linked on to it--that it is the
clue which will guide you in the solution of
some mystery and the punishment of some crime."
"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes,
laughing. "Only one of those whimsical little
incidents which will happen when you have four
million human beings all jostling each other
within the space of a few square miles. Amid the
action and reaction of so dense a swarm of
humanity, every possible combination of events
may be expected to take place, and many a little
problem will be presented which may be striking
and bizarre without being criminal. We have
already had experience of such."
"So much so," I remarked, "that of the last
six cases which I have added to my notes, three
have been entirely free of any legal crime."
"Precisely. You allude to my attempt to
recover the Irene Adler papers, to the singular
case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the
adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well,
I have no doubt that this small matter will fall
into the same innocent category. You know
Peterson, the commissionaire?"
"Yes."
"It is to him that this trophy belongs."
"It is his hat."
"No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I
beg that you will look upon it not as a battered
billycock but as an intellectual problem. And,
first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon
Christmas morning, in company with a good fat
goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting at
this moment in front of Peterson`s fire. The
facts are these: about four o`clock on Christmas
morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very
honest fellow, was returning from some small
jollification and was making his way homeward
down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he
saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking
with a slight stagger, and carrying a white
goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the
corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between
this stranger and a little knot of roughs. One
of the latter knocked off the man`s hat, on
which he raised his stick to defend himself and,
swinging it over his head, smashed the shop
window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward
to protect the stranger from his assailants; but
the man, shocked at having broken the window,
and seeing an official-looking person in uniform
rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to
his heels, and vanished amid the labyrinth of
small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham
Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the
appearance of Peterson, so that he was left in
possession of the field of battle, and also of
the spoils of victory in the shape of this
battered hat and a most unimpeachable Christmas
goose."
"Which surely he restored to their owner?"
"My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It
is true that `For Mrs. Henry Baker` was printed
upon a small card which was tied to the bird`s
left leg, and it is also true that the initials
`H. B.` are legible upon the lining of this hat,
but as there are some thousands of Bakers, and
some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of
ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to
any one of them."
"What, then, did Peterson do?"
"He brought round both hat and goose to me on
Christmas morning, knowing that even the
smallest problems are of interest to me. The
goose we retained until this morning, when there
were signs that, in spite of the slight frost,
it would be well that it should be eaten without
unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it
off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny
of a goose, while I continue to retain the hat
of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas
dinner."
"Did he not advertise?"
"No."
"Then, what clue could you have as to his
identity?"
"Only as much as we can deduce."
"From his hat?"
"Precisely."
"But you are joking. What can you gather from
this old battered felt?"
"Here is my lens. You know my methods. What
can you gather yourself as to the individuality
of the man who has worn this article?"
I took the tattered object in my hands and
turned it over rather ruefully. It was a very
ordinary black hat of the usual round shape,
hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had
been of red silk, but was a good deal
discoloured. There was no maker`s name; but, as
Holmes had remarked, the initials "H. B." were
scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the
brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was
missing. For the rest, it was cracked,
exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several
places, although there seemed to have been some
attempt to hide the discoloured patches by
smearing them with ink.
"I can see nothing," said I, handing it back
to my friend.
"On the contrary, Watson, you can see
everything. You fail, however, to reason from
what you see. You are too timid in drawing your
inferences."
"Then, pray tell me what it is that you can
infer from this hat?"
He picked it up and gazed at it in the
peculiar introspective fashion which was
characteristic of him. "It is perhaps less
suggestive than it might have been," he
remarked, "and yet there are a few inferences
which are very distinct, and a few others which
represent at least a strong balance of
probability. That the man was highly
intellectual is of course obvious upon the face
of it, and also that he was fairly well-to-do
within the last three years, although he has now
fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has
less now than formerly, pointing to a moral
retrogression, which, when taken with the
decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some
evil influence, probably drink, at work upon
him. This may account also for the obvious fact
that his wife has ceased to love him."
"My dear Holmes!"
"He has, however, retained some degree of
self-respect," he continued, disregarding my
remonstrance. "He is a man who leads a sedentary
life, goes out little, is out of training
entirely, is middle-aged, has grizzled hair
which he has had cut within the last few days,
and which he anoints with lime-cream. These are
the more patent facts which are to be deduced
from his hat. Also, by the way, that it is
extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in
his house."
"You are certainly joking, Holmes."
"Not in the least. Is it possible that even
now, when I give you these results, you are
unable to see how they are attained?"
"I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I
must confess that I am unable to follow you. For
example, how did you deduce that this man was
intellectual?"
For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his
head. It came right over the forehead and
settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is a
question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man
with so large a brain must have something in
it."
"The decline of his fortunes, then?"
"This hat is three years old. These flat
brims curled at the edge came in then. It is a
hat of the very best quality. Look at the band
of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this
man could afford to buy so expensive a hat three
years ago, and has had no hat since, then he has
assuredly gone down in the world."
"Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But
how about the foresight and the moral
retrogression?"
Sherlock Holmes laughed. "Here is the
foresight," said he putting his finger upon the
little disc and loop of the hat-securer. "They
are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered
one, it is a sign of a certain amount of
foresight, since he went out of his way to take
this precaution against the wind. But since we
see that he has broken the elastic and has not
troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he
has less foresight now than formerly, which is a
distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the
other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal some
of these stains upon the felt by daubing them
with ink, which is a sign that he has not
entirely lost his self-respect."
"Your reasoning is certainly plausible."
"The further points, that he is middle-aged,
that his hair is grizzled, that it has been
recently cut, and that he uses lime-cream, are
all to be gathered from a close examination of
the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses
a large number of hair-ends, clean cut by the
scissors of the barber. They all appear to be
adhesive, and there is a distinct odour of
lime-cream. This dust, you will observe, is not
the gritty, grey dust of the street but the
fluffy brown dust of the house, showing that it
has been hung up indoors most of the time, while
the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof
positive that the wearer perspired very freely,
and could therefore, hardly be in the best of
training."
"But his wife--you said that she had ceased
to love him."
"This hat has not been brushed for weeks.
When I see you, my dear Watson, with a week`s
accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when
your wife allows you to go out in such a state,
I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate
enough to lose your wife`s affection."
"But he might be a bachelor."
"Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a
peace-offering to his wife. Remember the card
upon the bird`s leg."
"You have an answer to everything. But how on
earth do you deduce that the gas is not laid on
in his house?"
"One tallow stain, or even two, might come by
chance; but when I see no less than five, I
think that there can be little doubt that the
individual must be brought into frequent contact
with burning tallow--walks upstairs at night
probably with his hat in one hand and a
guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never
got tallow-stains from a gas-jet. Are you
satisfied?"
"Well, it is very ingenious," said I,
laughing; "but since, as you said just now,
there has been no crime committed, and no harm
done save the loss of a goose, all this seems to
be rather a waste of energy."
Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to
reply, when the door flew open, and Peterson,
the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment
with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is
dazed with astonishment.
"The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!" he
gasped.
"Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to
life and flapped off through the kitchen
window?" Holmes twisted himself round upon the
sofa to get a fairer view of the man`s excited
face.
"See here, sir! See what my wife found in its
crop!" He held out his hand and displayed upon
the centre of the palm a brilliantly
scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a
bean in size, but of such purity and radiance
that it twinkled like an electric point in the
dark hollow of his hand.
Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. "By
Jove, Peterson!" said he, "this is treasure
trove indeed. I suppose you know what you have
got?"
"A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts
into glass as though it were putty."
"It`s more than a precious stone. It is the
precious stone."
"Not the Countess of Morcar`s blue
carbuncle!" I ejaculated.
"Precisely so. I ought to know its size and
shape, seeing that I have read the advertisement
about it in The Times every day lately. It is
absolutely unique, and its value can only be
conjectured, but the reward offered of 1000
pounds is certainly not within a twentieth part
of the market price."
"A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy!" The
commissionaire plumped down into a chair and
stared from one to the other of us.
"That is the reward, and I have reason to
know that there are sentimental considerations
in the background which would induce the
Countess to part with half her fortune if she
could but recover the gem."
"It was lost, if I remember aright, at the
Hotel Cosmopolitan," I remarked.
"Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five
days ago. John Horner, a plumber, was accused of
having abstracted it from the lady`s jewel-case.
The evidence against him was so strong that the
case has been referred to the Assizes. I have
some account of the matter here, I believe." He
rummaged amid his newspapers, glancing over the
dates, until at last he smoothed one out,
doubled it over, and read the following
paragraph:
"Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John
Horner, 26, plumber, was brought up upon the
charge of having upon the 22nd inst., abstracted
from the jewel-case of the Countess of Morcar
the valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle.
James Ryder, upper-attendant at the hotel, gave
his evidence to the effect that he had shown
Horner up to the dressing-room of the Countess
of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order
that he might solder the second bar of the
grate, which was loose. He had remained with
Horner some little time, but had finally been
called away. On returning, he found that Horner
had disappeared, that the bureau had been forced
open, and that the small morocco casket in
which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess
was accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying
empty upon the dressing-table. Ryder instantly
gave the alarm, and Horner was arrested the same
evening; but the stone could not be found either
upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine
Cusack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having
heard Ryder`s cry of dismay on discovering the
robbery, and to having rushed into the room,
where she found matters as described by the last
witness. Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave
evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who
struggled frantically, and protested his
innocence in the strongest terms. Evidence of a
previous conviction for robbery having been
given against the prisoner, the magistrate
refused to deal summarily with the offence, but
referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had
shown signs of intense emotion during the
proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and
was carried out of court."
"Hum! So much for the police-court," said
Holmes thoughtfully, tossing aside the paper.
"The question for us now to solve is the
sequence of events leading from a rifled
jewel-case at one end to the crop of a goose in
Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see,
Watson, our little deductions have suddenly
assumed a much more important and less innocent
aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came from
the goose, and the goose came from Mr. Henry
Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and all
the other characteristics with which I have
bored you. So now we must set ourselves very
seriously to finding this gentleman and
ascertaining what part he has played in this
little mystery. To do this, we must try the
simplest means first, and these lie undoubtedly
in an advertisement in all the evening papers.
If this fail, I shall have recourse to other
methods."
"What will you say?"
"Give me a pencil and that slip of paper.
Now, then: `Found at the corner of Goodge
Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry
Baker can have the same by applying at 6:30 this
evening at 221B, Baker Street.` That is clear
and concise."
"Very. But will he see it?"
"Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the
papers, since, to a poor man, the loss was a
heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his
mischance in breaking the window and by the
approach of Peterson that he thought of nothing
but flight, but since then he must have bitterly
regretted the impulse which caused him to drop
his bird. Then, again, the introduction of his
name will cause him to see it, for everyone who
knows him will direct his attention to it. Here
you are, Peterson, run down to the advertising
agency and have this put in the evening papers."
"In which, sir?"
"Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St.
James`s, Evening News, Standard, Echo, and any
others that occur to you."
"Very well, sir. And this stone?"
"Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you.
And, I say, Peterson, just buy a goose on your
way back and leave it here with me, for we must
have one to give to this gentleman in place of
the one which your family is now devouring."
When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took
up the stone and held it against the light.
"It`s a bonny thing," said he. "Just see how it
glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus
and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They
are the devil`s pet baits. In the larger and
older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody
deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It
was found in the banks of the Amoy River in
southern China and is remarkable in having every
characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is
blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of
its youth, it has already a sinister history.
There have been two murders, a vitriol-throwing,
a suicide, and several robberies brought about
for the sake of this forty-grain weight of
crystallised charcoal. Who would think that so
pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows
and the prison? I`ll lock it up in my strong box
now and drop a line to the Countess to say that
we have it."
"Do you think that this man Horner is
innocent?"
"I cannot tell."
"Well, then, do you imagine that this other
one, Henry Baker, had anything to do with the
matter?"
"It is, I think, much more likely that Henry
Baker is an absolutely innocent man, who had no
idea that the bird which he was carrying was of
considerably more value than if it were made of
solid gold. That, however, I shall determine by
a very simple test if we have an answer to our
advertisement."
"And you can do nothing until then?"
"Nothing."
"In that case I shall continue my
professional round. But I shall come back in the
evening at the hour you have mentioned, for I
should like to see the solution of so tangled a
business."
"Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There
is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of
recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs.
Hudson to examine its crop."
I had been delayed at a case, and it was a
little after half-past six when I found myself
in Baker Street once more. As I approached the
house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a
coat which was buttoned up to his chin waiting
outside in the bright semicircle which was
thrown from the fanlight. Just as I arrived the
door was opened, and we were shown up together
to Holmes` room.
"Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising
from his armchair and greeting his visitor with
the easy air of geniality which he could so
readily assume. "Pray take this chair by the
fire, Mr. Baker. It is a cold night, and I
observe that your circulation is more adapted
for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have
just come at the right time. Is that your hat,
Mr. Baker?"
"Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat."
He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a
massive head, and a broad, intelligent face,
sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled
brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a
slight tremor of his extended hand, recalled
Holmes` surmise as to his habits. His rusty
black frock-coat was buttoned right up in front,
with the collar turned up, and his lank wrists
protruded from his sleeves without a sign of
cuff or shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato
fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave
the impression generally of a man of learning
and letters who had had ill-usage at the hands
of fortune.
"We have retained these things for some
days," said Holmes, "because we expected to see
an advertisement from you giving your address. I
am at a loss to know now why you did not
advertise."
Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh.
"Shillings have not been so plentiful with me as
they once were," he remarked. "I had no doubt
that the gang of roughs who assaulted me had
carried off both my hat and the bird. I did not
care to spend more money in a hopeless attempt
at recovering them."
"Very naturally. By the way, about the bird,
we were compelled to eat it."
"To eat it!" Our visitor half rose from his
chair in his excitement.
"Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone
had we not done so. But I presume that this
other goose upon the sideboard, which is about
the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer
your purpose equally well?"
"Oh, certainly, certainly," answered Mr.
Baker with a sigh of relief.
"Of course, we still have the feathers, legs,
crop, and so on of your own bird, so if you
wish--"
The man burst into a hearty laugh. "They
might be useful to me as relics of my
adventure," said he, "but beyond that I can
hardly see what use the disjecta membra of my
late acquaintance are going to be to me. No,
sir, I think that, with your permission, I will
confine my attentions to the excellent bird
which I perceive upon the sideboard."
Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me
with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"There is your hat, then, and there your
bird," said he. "By the way, would it bore you
to tell me where you got the other one from? I
am somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom
seen a better grown goose."
"Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen
and tucked his newly gained property under his
arm. "There are a few of us who frequent the
Alpha Inn, near the Museum--we are to be found
in the Museum itself during the day, you
understand. This year our good host, Windigate
by name, instituted a goose club, by which, on
consideration of some few pence every week, we
were each to receive a bird at Christmas. My
pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar
to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a
Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor
my gravity." With a comical pomposity of manner
he bowed solemnly to both of us and strode off
upon his way.
"So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes
when he had closed the door behind him. "It is
quite certain that he knows nothing whatever
about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?"
"Not particularly."
"Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into
a supper and follow up this clue while it is
still hot."
"By all means."
It was a bitter night, so we drew on our
ulsters and wrapped cravats about our throats.
Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a
cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by
blew out into smoke like so many pistol shots.
Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as we
swung through the doctors` quarter, Wimpole
Street, Harley Street, and so through Wigmore
Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an
hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn,
which is a small public-house at the corner of
one of the streets which runs down into Holborn.
Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar
and ordered two glasses of beer from the
ruddy-faced, white-aproned landlord.
"Your beer should be excellent if it is as
good as your geese," said he.
"My geese!" The man seemed surprised.
"Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to
Mr. Henry Baker, who was a member of your goose
club."
"Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them`s not
our geese."
"Indeed! Whose, then?"
"Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in
Covent Garden."
"Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it?"
"Breckinridge is his name."
"Ah! I don`t know him. Well, here`s your good
health landlord, and prosperity to your house.
Good-night."
"Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued,
buttoning up his coat as we came out into the
frosty air. "Remember, Watson that though we
have so homely a thing as a goose at one end of
this chain, we have at the other a man who will
certainly get seven years` penal servitude
unless we can establish his innocence. It is
possible that our inquiry may but confirm his
guilt; but, in any case, we have a line of
investigation which has been missed by the
police, and which a singular chance has placed
in our hands. Let us follow it out to the bitter
end. Faces to the south, then, and quick march!"
We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street,
and so through a zigzag of slums to Covent
Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore
the name of Breckinridge upon it, and the
proprietor a horsey-looking man, with a sharp
face and trim side-whiskers was helping a boy to
put up the shutters.
"Good-evening. It`s a cold night," said
Holmes.
The salesman nodded and shot a questioning
glance at my companion.
"Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes,
pointing at the bare slabs of marble.
"Let you have five hundred to-morrow
morning."
"That`s no good."
"Well, there are some on the stall with the
gas-flare."
"Ah, but I was recommended to you."
"Who by?"
"The landlord of the Alpha."
"Oh, yes; I sent him a couple of dozen."
"Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you
get them from?"
To my surprise the question provoked a burst
of anger from the salesman.
"Now, then, mister," said he, with his head
cocked and his arms akimbo, "what are you
driving at? Let`s have it straight, now."
"It is straight enough. I should like to know
who sold you the geese which you supplied to the
Alpha."
"Well then, I shan`t tell you. So now!"
"Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I
don`t know why you should be so warm over such a
trifle."
"Warm! You`d be as warm, maybe, if you were
as pestered as I am. When I pay good money for a
good article there should be an end of the
business; but it`s `Where are the geese?` and
`Who did you sell the geese to?` and `What will
you take for the geese?` One would think they
were the only geese in the world, to hear the
fuss that is made over them."
"Well, I have no connection with any other
people who have been making inquiries," said
Holmes carelessly. "If you won`t tell us the bet
is off, that is all. But I`m always ready to
back my opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have
a fiver on it that the bird I ate is country
bred."
"Well, then, you`ve lost your fiver, for it`s
town bred," snapped the salesman.
"It`s nothing of the kind."
"I say it is."
"I don`t believe it."
"D`you think you know more about fowls than
I, who have handled them ever since I was a
nipper? I tell you, all those birds that went to
the Alpha were town bred."
"You`ll never persuade me to believe that."
"Will you bet, then?"
"It`s merely taking your money, for I know
that I am right. But I`ll have a sovereign on
with you, just to teach you not to be
obstinate."
The salesman chuckled grimly. "Bring me the
books, Bill," said he.
The small boy brought round a small thin
volume and a great greasy-backed one, laying
them out together beneath the hanging lamp.
"Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman,
"I thought that I was out of geese, but before I
finish you`ll find that there is still one left
in my shop. You see this little book?"
"Well?"
"That`s the list of the folk from whom I buy.
D`you see? Well, then, here on this page are the
country folk, and the numbers after their names
are where their accounts are in the big ledger.
Now, then! You see this other page in red ink?
Well, that is a list of my town suppliers. Now,
look at that third name. Just read it out to
me."
"Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road--249," read
Holmes.
"Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger."
Holmes turned to the page indicated. "Here
you are, `Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road, egg
and poultry supplier.`"
"Now, then, what`s the last entry?"
"`December 22nd. Twenty-four geese at 7s.
6d.`"
"Quite so. There you are. And underneath?"
"`Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at
12s.`"
"What have you to say now?"
Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He
drew a sovereign from his pocket and threw it
down upon the slab, turning away with the air of
a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few
yards off he stopped under a lamp-post and
laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which
was peculiar to him.
"When you see a man with whiskers of that cut
and the `Pink `un` protruding out of his pocket,
you can always draw him by a bet," said he. "I
daresay that if I had put 100 pounds down in
front of him, that man would not have given me
such complete information as was drawn from him
by the idea that he was doing me on a wager.
Well, Watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end
of our quest, and the only point which remains
to be determined is whether we should go on to
this Mrs. Oakshott to-night, or whether we
should reserve it for to-morrow. It is clear
from what that surly fellow said that there are
others besides ourselves who are anxious about
the matter, and I should--"
His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud
hubbub which broke out from the stall which we
had just left. Turning round we saw a little
rat-faced fellow standing in the centre of the
circle of yellow light which was thrown by the
swinging lamp, while Breckinridge, the salesman,
framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his
fists fiercely at the cringing figure.
"I`ve had enough of you and your geese," he
shouted. "I wish you were all at the devil
together. If you come pestering me any more with
your silly talk I`ll set the dog at you. You
bring Mrs. Oakshott here and I`ll answer her,
but what have you to do with it? Did I buy the
geese off you?"
"No; but one of them was mine all the same,"
whined the little man.
"Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it."
"She told me to ask you."
"Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for
all I care. I`ve had enough of it. Get out of
this!" He rushed fiercely forward, and the
inquirer flitted away into the darkness.
"Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton
Road," whispered Holmes. "Come with me, and we
will see what is to be made of this fellow."
Striding through the scattered knots of people
who lounged round the flaring stalls, my
companion speedily overtook the little man and
touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang round,
and I could see in the gas-light that every
vestige of colour had been driven from his face.
"Who are you, then? What do you want?" he
asked in a quavering voice.
"You will excuse me," said Holmes blandly,
"but I could not help overhearing the questions
which you put to the salesman just now. I think
that I could be of assistance to you."
"You? Who are you? How could you know
anything of the matter?"
"My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my
business to know what other people don`t know."
"But you can know nothing of this?"
"Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are
endeavouring to trace some geese which were sold
by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road, to a salesman
named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr.
Windigate, of the Alpha, and by him to his club,
of which Mr. Henry Baker is a member."
"Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have
longed to meet," cried the little fellow with
outstretched hands and quivering fingers. "I can
hardly explain to you how interested I am in
this matter."
Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which
was passing. "In that case we had better discuss
it in a cosy room rather than in this wind-swept
market-place," said he. "But pray tell me,
before we go farther, who it is that I have the
pleasure of assisting."
The man hesitated for an instant. "My name is
John Robinson," he answered with a sidelong
glance.
"No, no; the real name," said Holmes sweetly.
"It is always awkward doing business with an
alias."
A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the
stranger. "Well then," said he, "my real name is
James Ryder."
"Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel
Cosmopolitan. Pray step into the cab, and I
shall soon be able to tell you everything which
you would wish to know."
The little man stood glancing from one to the
other of us with half-frightened, half-hopeful
eyes, as one who is not sure whether he is on
the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe.
Then he stepped into the cab, and in half an
hour we were back in the sitting-room at Baker
Street. Nothing had been said during our drive,
but the high, thin breathing of our new
companion, and the claspings and unclaspings of
his hands, spoke of the nervous tension within
him.
"Here we are!" said Holmes cheerily as we
filed into the room. "The fire looks very
seasonable in this weather. You look cold, Mr.
Ryder. Pray take the basket-chair. I will just
put on my slippers before we settle this little
matter of yours. Now, then! You want to know
what became of those geese?"
"Yes, sir."
"Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was
one bird, I imagine in which you were
interested--white, with a black bar across the
tail."
Ryder quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he
cried, "can you tell me where it went to?"
"It came here."
"Here?"
"Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I
don`t wonder that you should take an interest in
it. It laid an egg after it was dead--the
bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever
was seen. I have it here in my museum."
Our visitor staggered to his feet and
clutched the mantelpiece with his right hand.
Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up the
blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star,
with a cold, brilliant, many-pointed radiance.
Ryder stood glaring with a drawn face, uncertain
whether to claim or to disown it.
"The game`s up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly.
"Hold up, man, or you`ll be into the fire! Give
him an arm back into his chair, Watson. He`s not
got blood enough to go in for felony with
impunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So! Now he
looks a little more human. What a shrimp it is,
to be sure!"
For a moment he had staggered and nearly
fallen, but the brandy brought a tinge of colour
into his cheeks, and he sat staring with
frightened eyes at his accuser.
"I have almost every link in my hands, and
all the proofs which I could possibly need, so
there is little which you need tell me. Still,
that little may as well be cleared up to make
the case complete. You had heard, Ryder, of this
blue stone of the Countess of Morcar`s?"
"It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it,"
said he in a crackling voice.
"I see--her ladyship`s waiting-maid. Well,
the temptation of sudden wealth so easily
acquired was too much for you, as it has been
for better men before you; but you were not very
scrupulous in the means you used. It seems to
me, Ryder, that there is the making of a very
pretty villain in you. You knew that this man
Horner, the plumber, had been concerned in some
such matter before, and that suspicion would
rest the more readily upon him. What did you do,
then? You made some small job in my lady`s
room--you and your confederate Cusack--and you
managed that he should be the man sent for.
Then, when he had left, you rifled the
jewel-case, raised the alarm, and had this
unfortunate man arrested. You then--"
Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the
rug and clutched at my companion`s knees. "For
God`s sake, have mercy!" he shrieked. "Think of
my father! Of my mother! It would break their
hearts. I never went wrong before! I never will
again. I swear it. I`ll swear it on a Bible. Oh,
don`t bring it into court! For Christ`s sake,
don`t!"
"Get back into your chair!" said Holmes
sternly. "It is very well to cringe and crawl
now, but you thought little enough of this poor
Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew
nothing."
"I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the
country, sir. Then the charge against him will
break down."
"Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us
hear a true account of the next act. How came
the stone into the goose, and how came the goose
into the open market? Tell us the truth, for
there lies your only hope of safety."
Ryder passed his tongue over his parched
lips. "I will tell you it just as it happened,
sir," said he. "When Horner had been arrested,
it seemed to me that it would be best for me to
get away with the stone at once, for I did not
know at what moment the police might not take it
into their heads to search me and my room. There
was no place about the hotel where it would be
safe. I went out, as if on some commission, and
I made for my sister`s house. She had married a
man named Oakshott, and lived in Brixton Road,
where she fattened fowls for the market. All the
way there every man I met seemed to me to be a
policeman or a detective; and, for all that it
was a cold night, the sweat was pouring down my
face before I came to the Brixton Road. My
sister asked me what was the matter, and why I
was so pale; but I told her that I had been
upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I
went into the back yard and smoked a pipe and
wondered what it would be best to do.
"I had a friend once called Maudsley, who
went to the bad, and has just been serving his
time in Pentonville. One day he had met me, and
fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and
how they could get rid of what they stole. I
knew that he would be true to me, for I knew one
or two things about him; so I made up my mind to
go right on to Kilburn, where he lived, and take
him into my confidence. He would show me how to
turn the stone into money. But how to get to him
in safety? I thought of the agonies I had gone
through in coming from the hotel. I might at any
moment be seized and searched, and there would
be the stone in my waistcoat pocket. I was
leaning against the wall at the time and looking
at the geese which were waddling about round my
feet, and suddenly an idea came into my head
which showed me how I could beat the best
detective that ever lived.
"My sister had told me some weeks before that
I might have the pick of her geese for a
Christmas present, and I knew that she was
always as good as her word. I would take my
goose now, and in it I would carry my stone to
Kilburn. There was a little shed in the yard,
and behind this I drove one of the birds--a fine
big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it,
and prying its bill open, I thrust the stone
down its throat as far as my finger could reach.
The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass
along its gullet and down into its crop. But the
creature flapped and struggled, and out came my
sister to know what was the matter. As I turned
to speak to her the brute broke loose and
fluttered off among the others.
"`Whatever were you doing with that bird,
Jem?` says she.
"`Well,` said I, `you said you`d give me one
for Christmas, and I was feeling which was the
fattest.`
"`Oh,` says she, `we`ve set yours aside for
you--Jem`s bird, we call it. It`s the big white
one over yonder. There`s twenty-six of them,
which makes one for you, and one for us, and two
dozen for the market.`
"`Thank you, Maggie,` says I; `but if it is
all the same to you, I`d rather have that one I
was handling just now.`
"`The other is a good three pound heavier,`
said she, `and we fattened it expressly for
you.`
"`Never mind. I`ll have the other, and I`ll
take it now,` said I.
"`Oh, just as you like,` said she, a little
huffed. `Which is it you want, then?`
"`That white one with the barred tail, right
in the middle of the flock.`
"`Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with
you.`
"Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I
carried the bird all the way to Kilburn. I told
my pal what I had done, for he was a man that it
was easy to tell a thing like that to. He
laughed until he choked, and we got a knife and
opened the goose. My heart turned to water, for
there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that
some terrible mistake had occurred. I left the
bird, rushed back to my sister`s, and hurried
into the back yard. There was not a bird to be
seen there.
"`Where are they all, Maggie?` I cried.
"`Gone to the dealer`s, Jem.`
"`Which dealer`s?`
"`Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.`
"`But was there another with a barred tail?`
I asked, `the same as the one I chose?`
"`Yes, Jem; there were two barred-tailed
ones, and I could never tell them apart.`
"Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I
ran off as hard as my feet would carry me to
this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the lot
at once, and not one word would he tell me as to
where they had gone. You heard him yourselves
to-night. Well, he has always answered me like
that. My sister thinks that I am going mad.
Sometimes I think that I am myself. And now--and
now I am myself a branded thief, without ever
having touched the wealth for which I sold my
character. God help me! God help me!" He burst
into convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in
his hands.
There was a long silence, broken only by his
heavy breathing and by the measured tapping of
Sherlock Holmes` finger-tips upon the edge of
the table. Then my friend rose and threw open
the door.
"Get out!" said he.
"What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!"
"No more words. Get out!"
And no more words were needed. There was a
rush, a clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a
door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls
from the street.
"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up
his hand for his clay pipe, "I am not retained
by the police to supply their deficiencies. If
Horner were in danger it would be another thing;
but this fellow will not appear against him, and
the case must collapse. I suppose that I am
commuting a felony, but it is just possible that
I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go
wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. Send
him to gaol now, and you make him a gaol-bird
for life. Besides, it is the season of
forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most
singular and whimsical problem, and its solution
is its own reward. If you will have the goodness
to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another
investigation, in which, also a bird will be the
chief feature."
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THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED
BAND
On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I have
during the last eight years studied the methods
of my friend Sherlock Holmes, I find many
tragic, some comic, a large number merely
strange, but none commonplace; for, working as
he did rather for the love of his art than for
the acquirement of wealth, he refused to
associate himself with any investigation which
did not tend towards the unusual, and even the
fantastic. Of all these varied cases, however, I
cannot recall any which presented more singular
features than that which was associated with the
well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of
Stoke Moran. The events in question occurred in
the early days of my association with Holmes,
when we were sharing rooms as bachelors in Baker
Street. It is possible that I might have placed
them upon record before, but a promise of
secrecy was made at the time, from which I have
only been freed during the last month by the
untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge
was given. It is perhaps as well that the facts
should now come to light, for I have reasons to
know that there are widespread rumours as to the
death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make
the matter even more terrible than the truth.
It was early in April in the year `83 that I
woke one morning to find Sherlock Holmes
standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed.
He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock
on the mantelpiece showed me that it was only a
quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in some
surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment,
for I was myself regular in my habits.
"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said
he, "but it`s the common lot this morning. Mrs.
Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon
me, and I on you."
"What is it, then--a fire?"
"No; a client. It seems that a young lady has
arrived in a considerable state of excitement,
who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now
in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies
wander about the metropolis at this hour of the
morning, and knock sleepy people up out of their
beds, I presume that it is something very
pressing which they have to communicate. Should
it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I
am sure, wish to follow it from the outset. I
thought, at any rate, that I should call you and
give you the chance."
"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for
anything."
I had no keener pleasure than in following
Holmes in his professional investigations, and
in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as
intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical
basis with which he unravelled the problems
which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw on
my clothes and was ready in a few minutes to
accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. A
lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who
had been sitting in the window, rose as we
entered.
"Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily.
"My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my intimate
friend and associate, Dr. Watson, before whom
you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I
am glad to see that Mrs. Hudson has had the good
sense to light the fire. Pray draw up to it, and
I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I
observe that you are shivering."
"It is not cold which makes me shiver," said
the woman in a low voice, changing her seat as
requested.
"What, then?"
"It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She
raised her veil as she spoke, and we could see
that she was indeed in a pitiable state of
agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with
restless frightened eyes, like those of some
hunted animal. Her features and figure were
those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was
shot with premature grey, and her expression was
weary and haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran her over
with one of his quick, all-comprehensive
glances.
"You must not fear," said he soothingly,
bending forward and patting her forearm. "We
shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt.
You have come in by train this morning, I see."
"You know me, then?"
"No, but I observe the second half of a
return ticket in the palm of your left glove.
You must have started early, and yet you had a
good drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads,
before you reached the station."
The lady gave a violent start and stared in
bewilderment at my companion.
"There is no mystery, my dear madam," said
he, smiling. "The left arm of your jacket is
spattered with mud in no less than seven places.
The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no
vehicle save a dog-cart which throws up mud in
that way, and then only when you sit on the
left-hand side of the driver."
"Whatever your reasons may be, you are
perfectly correct," said she. "I started from
home before six, reached Leatherhead at twenty
past, and came in by the first train to
Waterloo. Sir, I can stand this strain no
longer; I shall go mad if it continues. I have
no one to turn to--none, save only one, who
cares for me, and he, poor fellow, can be of
little aid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I
have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you
helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from
her that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not
think that you could help me, too, and at least
throw a little light through the dense darkness
which surrounds me? At present it is out of my
power to reward you for your services, but in a
month or six weeks I shall be married, with the
control of my own income, and then at least you
shall not find me ungrateful."
Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it,
drew out a small case-book, which he consulted.
"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the
case; it was concerned with an opal tiara. I
think it was before your time, Watson. I can
only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote
the same care to your case as I did to that of
your friend. As to reward, my profession is its
own reward; but you are at liberty to defray
whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time
which suits you best. And now I beg that you
will lay before us everything that may help us
in forming an opinion upon the matter."
"Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror
of my situation lies in the fact that my fears
are so vague, and my suspicions depend so
entirely upon small points, which might seem
trivial to another, that even he to whom of all
others I have a right to look for help and
advice looks upon all that I tell him about it
as the fancies of a nervous woman. He does not
say so, but I can read it from his soothing
answers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr.
Holmes, that you can see deeply into the
manifold wickedness of the human heart. You may
advise me how to walk amid the dangers which
encompass me."
"I am all attention, madam."
"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living
with my stepfather, who is the last survivor of
one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the
Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border
of Surrey."
Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar
to me," said he.
"The family was at one time among the richest
in England, and the estates extended over the
borders into Berkshire in the north, and
Hampshire in the west. In the last century,
however, four successive heirs were of a
dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the
family ruin was eventually completed by a
gambler in the days of the Regency. Nothing was
left save a few acres of ground, and the
two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself
crushed under a heavy mortgage. The last squire
dragged out his existence there, living the
horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his
only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must
adapt himself to the new conditions, obtained an
advance from a relative, which enabled him to
take a medical degree and went out to Calcutta,
where, by his professional skill and his force
of character, he established a large practice.
In a fit of anger, however, caused by some
robberies which had been perpetrated in the
house, he beat his native butler to death and
narrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was,
he suffered a long term of imprisonment and
afterwards returned to England a morose and
disappointed man.
"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my
mother, Mrs. Stoner, the young widow of
Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery.
My sister Julia and I were twins, and we were
only two years old at the time of my mother`s
re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of
money--not less than 1000 pounds a year--and
this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely
while we resided with him, with a provision that
a certain annual sum should be allowed to each
of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly
after our return to England my mother died--she
was killed eight years ago in a railway accident
near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned his
attempts to establish himself in practice in
London and took us to live with him in the old
ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The money which
my mother had left was enough for all our wants,
and there seemed to be no obstacle to our
happiness.
"But a terrible change came over our
stepfather about this time. Instead of making
friends and exchanging visits with our
neighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to
see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back in the old
family seat, he shut himself up in his house and
seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious
quarrels with whoever might cross his path.
Violence of temper approaching to mania has been
hereditary in the men of the family, and in my
stepfather`s case it had, I believe, been
intensified by his long residence in the
tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took
place, two of which ended in the police-court,
until at last he became the terror of the
village, and the folks would fly at his
approach, for he is a man of immense strength,
and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.
"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith
over a parapet into a stream, and it was only by
paying over all the money which I could gather
together that I was able to avert another public
exposure. He had no friends at all save the
wandering gipsies, and he would give these
vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of
bramble-covered land which represent the family
estate, and would accept in return the
hospitality of their tents, wandering away with
them sometimes for weeks on end. He has a
passion also for Indian animals, which are sent
over to him by a correspondent, and he has at
this moment a cheetah and a baboon, which wander
freely over his grounds and are feared by the
villagers almost as much as their master.
"You can imagine from what I say that my poor
sister Julia and I had no great pleasure in our
lives. No servant would stay with us, and for a
long time we did all the work of the house. She
was but thirty at the time of her death, and yet
her hair had already begun to whiten, even as
mine has."
"Your sister is dead, then?"
"She died just two years ago, and it is of
her death that I wish to speak to you. You can
understand that, living the life which I have
described, we were little likely to see anyone
of our own age and position. We had, however, an
aunt, my mother`s maiden sister, Miss Honoria
Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we were
occasionally allowed to pay short visits at this
lady`s house. Julia went there at Christmas two
years ago, and met there a half-pay major of
marines, to whom she became engaged. My
stepfather learned of the engagement when my
sister returned and offered no objection to the
marriage; but within a fortnight of the day
which had been fixed for the wedding, the
terrible event occurred which has deprived me of
my only companion."
Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his
chair with his eyes closed and his head sunk in
a cushion, but he half opened his lids now and
glanced across at his visitor.
"Pray be precise as to details," said he.
"It is easy for me to be so, for every event
of that dreadful time is seared into my memory.
The manor-house is, as I have already said, very
old, and only one wing is now inhabited. The
bedrooms in this wing are on the ground floor,
the sitting-rooms being in the central block of
the buildings. Of these bedrooms the first is
Dr. Roylott`s, the second my sister`s, and the
third my own. There is no communication between
them, but they all open out into the same
corridor. Do I make myself plain?"
"Perfectly so."
"The windows of the three rooms open out upon
the lawn. That fatal night Dr. Roylott had gone
to his room early, though we knew that he had
not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled
by the smell of the strong Indian cigars which
it was his custom to smoke. She left her room,
therefore, and came into mine, where she sat for
some time, chatting about her approaching
wedding. At eleven o`clock she rose to leave me,
but she paused at the door and looked back.
"`Tell me, Helen,` said she, `have you ever
heard anyone whistle in the dead of the night?`
"`Never,` said I.
"`I suppose that you could not possibly
whistle, yourself, in your sleep?`
"`Certainly not. But why?`
"`Because during the last few nights I have
always, about three in the morning, heard a low,
clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it has
awakened me. I cannot tell where it came
from--perhaps from the next room, perhaps from
the lawn. I thought that I would just ask you
whether you had heard it.`
"`No, I have not. It must be those wretched
gipsies in the plantation.`
"`Very likely. And yet if it were on the
lawn, I wonder that you did not hear it also.`
"`Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.`
"`Well, it is of no great consequence, at any
rate.` She smiled back at me, closed my door,
and a few moments later I heard her key turn in
the lock."
"Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom
always to lock yourselves in at night?"
"Always."
"And why?"
"I think that I mentioned to you that the
doctor kept a cheetah and a baboon. We had no
feeling of security unless our doors were
locked."
"Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement."
"I could not sleep that night. A vague
feeling of impending misfortune impressed me. My
sister and I, you will recollect, were twins,
and you know how subtle are the links which bind
two souls which are so closely allied. It was a
wild night. The wind was howling outside, and
the rain was beating and splashing against the
windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the
gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a
terrified woman. I knew that it was my sister`s
voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped a shawl
round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I
opened my door I seemed to hear a low whistle,
such as my sister described, and a few moments
later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal
had fallen. As I ran down the passage, my
sister`s door was unlocked, and revolved slowly
upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken,
not knowing what was about to issue from it. By
the light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister
appear at the opening, her face blanched with
terror, her hands groping for help, her whole
figure swaying to and fro like that of a
drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round
her, but at that moment her knees seemed to give
way and she fell to the ground. She writhed as
one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were
dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that
she had not recognised me, but as I bent over
her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I
shall never forget, `Oh, my God! Helen! It was
the band! The speckled band!` There was
something else which she would fain have said,
and she stabbed with her finger into the air in
the direction of the doctor`s room, but a fresh
convulsion seized her and choked her words. I
rushed out, calling loudly for my stepfather,
and I met him hastening from his room in his
dressing-gown. When he reached my sister`s side
she was unconscious, and though he poured brandy
down her throat and sent for medical aid from
the village, all efforts were in vain, for she
slowly sank and died without having recovered
her consciousness. Such was the dreadful end of
my beloved sister."
"One moment," said Holmes, "are you sure
about this whistle and metallic sound? Could you
swear to it?"
"That was what the county coroner asked me at
the inquiry. It is my strong impression that I
heard it, and yet, among the crash of the gale
and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly
have been deceived."
"Was your sister dressed?"
"No, she was in her night-dress. In her right
hand was found the charred stump of a match, and
in her left a match-box."
"Showing that she had struck a light and
looked about her when the alarm took place. That
is important. And what conclusions did the
coroner come to?"
"He investigated the case with great care,
for Dr. Roylott`s conduct had long been
notorious in the county, but he was unable to
find any satisfactory cause of death. My
evidence showed that the door had been fastened
upon the inner side, and the windows were
blocked by old-fashioned shutters with broad
iron bars, which were secured every night. The
walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to
be quite solid all round, and the flooring was
also thoroughly examined, with the same result.
The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four
large staples. It is certain, therefore, that my
sister was quite alone when she met her end.
Besides, there were no marks of any violence
upon her."
"How about poison?"
"The doctors examined her for it, but without
success."
"What do you think that this unfortunate lady
died of, then?"
"It is my belief that she died of pure fear
and nervous shock, though what it was that
frightened her I cannot imagine."
"Were there gipsies in the plantation at the
time?"
"Yes, there are nearly always some there."
"Ah, and what did you gather from this
allusion to a band--a speckled band?"
"Sometimes I have thought that it was merely
the wild talk of delirium, sometimes that it may
have referred to some band of people, perhaps to
these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not
know whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so
many of them wear over their heads might have
suggested the strange adjective which she used."
Holmes shook his head like a man who is far
from being satisfied.
"These are very deep waters," said he; "pray
go on with your narrative."
"Two years have passed since then, and my
life has been until lately lonelier than ever. A
month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I have
known for many years, has done me the honour to
ask my hand in marriage. His name is
Armitage--Percy Armitage--the second son of Mr.
Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My
stepfather has offered no opposition to the
match, and we are to be married in the course of
the spring. Two days ago some repairs were
started in the west wing of the building, and my
bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have
had to move into the chamber in which my sister
died, and to sleep in the very bed in which she
slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when
last night, as I lay awake, thinking over her
terrible fate, I suddenly heard in the silence
of the night the low whistle which had been the
herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the
lamp, but nothing was to be seen in the room. I
was too shaken to go to bed again, however, so I
dressed, and as soon as it was daylight I
slipped down, got a dog-cart at the Crown Inn,
which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead,
from whence I have come on this morning with the
one object of seeing you and asking your
advice."
"You have done wisely," said my friend. "But
have you told me all?"
"Yes, all."
"Miss Roylott, you have not. You are
screening your stepfather."
"Why, what do you mean?"
For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of
black lace which fringed the hand that lay upon
our visitor`s knee. Five little livid spots, the
marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed
upon the white wrist.
"You have been cruelly used," said Holmes.
The lady coloured deeply and covered over her
injured wrist. "He is a hard man," she said,
"and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength."
There was a long silence, during which Holmes
leaned his chin upon his hands and stared into
the crackling fire.
"This is a very deep business," he said at
last. "There are a thousand details which I
should desire to know before I decide upon our
course of action. Yet we have not a moment to
lose. If we were to come to Stoke Moran to-day,
would it be possible for us to see over these
rooms without the knowledge of your stepfather?"
"As it happens, he spoke of coming into town
to-day upon some most important business. It is
probable that he will be away all day, and that
there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a
housekeeper now, but she is old and foolish, and
I could easily get her out of the way."
"Excellent. You are not averse to this trip,
Watson?"
"By no means."
"Then we shall both come. What are you going
to do yourself?"
"I have one or two things which I would wish
to do now that I am in town. But I shall return
by the twelve o`clock train, so as to be there
in time for your coming."
"And you may expect us early in the
afternoon. I have myself some small business
matters to attend to. Will you not wait and
breakfast?"
"No, I must go. My heart is lightened already
since I have confided my trouble to you. I shall
look forward to seeing you again this
afternoon." She dropped her thick black veil
over her face and glided from the room.
"And what do you think of it all, Watson?"
asked Sherlock Holmes, leaning back in his
chair.
"It seems to me to be a most dark and
sinister business."
"Dark enough and sinister enough."
"Yet if the lady is correct in saying that
the flooring and walls are sound, and that the
door, window, and chimney are impassable, then
her sister must have been undoubtedly alone when
she met her mysterious end."
"What becomes, then, of these nocturnal
whistles, and what of the very peculiar words of
the dying woman?"
"I cannot think."
"When you combine the ideas of whistles at
night, the presence of a band of gipsies who are
on intimate terms with this old doctor, the fact
that we have every reason to believe that the
doctor has an interest in preventing his
stepdaughter`s marriage, the dying allusion to a
band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen
Stoner heard a metallic clang, which might have
been caused by one of those metal bars that
secured the shutters falling back into its
place, I think that there is good ground to
think that the mystery may be cleared along
those lines."
"But what, then, did the gipsies do?"
"I cannot imagine."
"I see many objections to any such theory."
"And so do I. It is precisely for that reason
that we are going to Stoke Moran this day. I
want to see whether the objections are fatal, or
if they may be explained away. But what in the
name of the devil!"
The ejaculation had been drawn from my
companion by the fact that our door had been
suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had
framed himself in the aperture. His costume was
a peculiar mixture of the professional and of
the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a long
frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a
hunting-crop swinging in his hand. So tall was
he that his hat actually brushed the cross bar
of the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span
it across from side to side. A large face,
seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow
with the sun, and marked with every evil
passion, was turned from one to the other of us,
while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his
high, thin, fleshless nose, gave him somewhat
the resemblance to a fierce old bird of prey.
"Which of you is Holmes?" asked this
apparition.
"My name, sir; but you have the advantage of
me," said my companion quietly.
"I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran."
"Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray
take a seat."
"I will do nothing of the kind. My
stepdaughter has been here. I have traced her.
What has she been saying to you?"
"It is a little cold for the time of the
year," said Holmes.
"What has she been saying to you?" screamed
the old man furiously.
"But I have heard that the crocuses promise
well," continued my companion imperturbably.
"Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new
visitor, taking a step forward and shaking his
hunting-crop. "I know you, you scoundrel! I have
heard of you before. You are Holmes, the
meddler."
My friend smiled.
"Holmes, the busybody!"
His smile broadened.
"Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!"
Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation
is most entertaining," said he. "When you go out
close the door, for there is a decided draught."
"I will go when I have said my say. Don`t you
dare to meddle with my affairs. I know that Miss
Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a
dangerous man to fall foul of! See here." He
stepped swiftly forward, seized the poker, and
bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands.
"See that you keep yourself out of my grip,"
he snarled, and hurling the twisted poker into
the fireplace he strode out of the room.
"He seems a very amiable person," said
Holmes, laughing. "I am not quite so bulky, but
if he had remained I might have shown him that
my grip was not much more feeble than his own."
As he spoke he picked up the steel poker and,
with a sudden effort, straightened it out again.
"Fancy his having the insolence to confound
me with the official detective force! This
incident gives zest to our investigation,
however, and I only trust that our little friend
will not suffer from her imprudence in allowing
this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, we
shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall
walk down to Doctors` Commons, where I hope to
get some data which may help us in this matter."
It was nearly one o`clock when Sherlock
Holmes returned from his excursion. He held in
his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over
with notes and figures.
"I have seen the will of the deceased wife,"
said he. "To determine its exact meaning I have
been obliged to work out the present prices of
the investments with which it is concerned. The
total income, which at the time of the wife`s
death was little short of 1100 pounds, is now,
through the fall in agricultural prices, not
more than 750 pounds. Each daughter can claim an
income of 250 pounds, in case of marriage. It is
evident, therefore, that if both girls had
married, this beauty would have had a mere
pittance, while even one of them would cripple
him to a very serious extent. My morning`s work
has not been wasted, since it has proved that he
has the very strongest motives for standing in
the way of anything of the sort. And now,
Watson, this is too serious for dawdling,
especially as the old man is aware that we are
interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if you
are ready, we shall call a cab and drive to
Waterloo. I should be very much obliged if you
would slip your revolver into your pocket. An
Eley`s No. 2 is an excellent argument with
gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into knots.
That and a tooth-brush are, I think, all that we
need."
At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a
train for Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at
the station inn and drove for four or five miles
through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a
perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy
clouds in the heavens. The trees and wayside
hedges were just throwing out their first green
shoots, and the air was full of the pleasant
smell of the moist earth. To me at least there
was a strange contrast between the sweet promise
of the spring and this sinister quest upon which
we were engaged. My companion sat in the front
of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled
down over his eyes, and his chin sunk upon his
breast, buried in the deepest thought. Suddenly,
however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder,
and pointed over the meadows.
"Look there!" said he.
A heavily timbered park stretched up in a
gentle slope, thickening into a grove at the
highest point. From amid the branches there
jutted out the grey gables and high roof-tree of
a very old mansion.
"Stoke Moran?" said he.
"Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby
Roylott," remarked the driver.
"There is some building going on there," said
Holmes; "that is where we are going."
"There`s the village," said the driver,
pointing to a cluster of roofs some distance to
the left; "but if you want to get to the house,
you`ll find it shorter to get over this stile,
and so by the foot-path over the fields. There
it is, where the lady is walking."
"And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner,"
observed Holmes, shading his eyes. "Yes, I think
we had better do as you suggest."
We got off, paid our fare, and the trap
rattled back on its way to Leatherhead.
"I thought it as well," said Holmes as we
climbed the stile, "that this fellow should
think we had come here as architects, or on some
definite business. It may stop his gossip.
Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see that we
have been as good as our word."
Our client of the morning had hurried forward
to meet us with a face which spoke her joy. "I
have been waiting so eagerly for you," she
cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All has
turned out splendidly. Dr. Roylott has gone to
town, and it is unlikely that he will be back
before evening."
"We have had the pleasure of making the
doctor`s acquaintance," said Holmes, and in a
few words he sketched out what had occurred.
Miss Stoner turned white to the lips as she
listened.
"Good heavens!" she cried, "he has followed
me, then."
"So it appears."
"He is so cunning that I never know when I am
safe from him. What will he say when he
returns?"
"He must guard himself, for he may find that
there is someone more cunning than himself upon
his track. You must lock yourself up from him
to-night. If he is violent, we shall take you
away to your aunt`s at Harrow. Now, we must make
the best use of our time, so kindly take us at
once to the rooms which we are to examine."
The building was of grey, lichen-blotched
stone, with a high central portion and two
curving wings, like the claws of a crab, thrown
out on each side. In one of these wings the
windows were broken and blocked with wooden
boards, while the roof was partly caved in, a
picture of ruin. The central portion was in
little better repair, but the right-hand block
was comparatively modern, and the blinds in the
windows, with the blue smoke curling up from the
chimneys, showed that this was where the family
resided. Some scaffolding had been erected
against the end wall, and the stone-work had
been broken into, but there were no signs of any
workmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes
walked slowly up and down the ill-trimmed lawn
and examined with deep attention the outsides of
the windows.
"This, I take it, belongs to the room in
which you used to sleep, the centre one to your
sister`s, and the one next to the main building
to Dr. Roylott`s chamber?"
"Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the
middle one."
"Pending the alterations, as I understand. By
the way, there does not seem to be any very
pressing need for repairs at that end wall."
"There were none. I believe that it was an
excuse to move me from my room."
"Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other
side of this narrow wing runs the corridor from
which these three rooms open. There are windows
in it, of course?"
"Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for
anyone to pass through."
"As you both locked your doors at night, your
rooms were unapproachable from that side. Now,
would you have the kindness to go into your room
and bar your shutters?"
Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a
careful examination through the open window,
endeavoured in every way to force the shutter
open, but without success. There was no slit
through which a knife could be passed to raise
the bar. Then with his lens he tested the
hinges, but they were of solid iron, built
firmly into the massive masonry. "Hum!" said he,
scratching his chin in some perplexity, "my
theory certainly presents some difficulties. No
one could pass these shutters if they were
bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws
any light upon the matter."
A small side door led into the whitewashed
corridor from which the three bedrooms opened.
Holmes refused to examine the third chamber, so
we passed at once to the second, that in which
Miss Stoner was now sleeping, and in which her
sister had met with her fate. It was a homely
little room, with a low ceiling and a gaping
fireplace, after the fashion of old
country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stood
in one corner, a narrow white-counterpaned bed
in another, and a dressing-table on the
left-hand side of the window. These articles,
with two small wicker-work chairs, made up all
the furniture in the room save for a square of
Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round
and the panelling of the walls were of brown,
worm-eaten oak, so old and discoloured that it
may have dated from the original building of the
house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a
corner and sat silent, while his eyes travelled
round and round and up and down, taking in every
detail of the apartment.
"Where does that bell communicate with?" he
asked at last pointing to a thick bell-rope
which hung down beside the bed, the tassel
actually lying upon the pillow.
"It goes to the housekeeper`s room."
"It looks newer than the other things?"
"Yes, it was only put there a couple of years
ago."
"Your sister asked for it, I suppose?"
"No, I never heard of her using it. We used
always to get what we wanted for ourselves."
"Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice
a bell-pull there. You will excuse me for a few
minutes while I satisfy myself as to this
floor." He threw himself down upon his face with
his lens in his hand and crawled swiftly
backward and forward, examining minutely the
cracks between the boards. Then he did the same
with the wood-work with which the chamber was
panelled. Finally he walked over to the bed and
spent some time in staring at it and in running
his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took
the bell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk
tug.
"Why, it`s a dummy," said he.
"Won`t it ring?"
"No, it is not even attached to a wire. This
is very interesting. You can see now that it is
fastened to a hook just above where the little
opening for the ventilator is."
"How very absurd! I never noticed that
before."
"Very strange!" muttered Holmes, pulling at
the rope. "There are one or two very singular
points about this room. For example, what a fool
a builder must be to open a ventilator into
another room, when, with the same trouble, he
might have communicated with the outside air!"
"That is also quite modern," said the lady.
"Done about the same time as the bell-rope?"
remarked Holmes.
"Yes, there were several little changes
carried out about that time."
"They seem to have been of a most interesting
character--dummy bell-ropes, and ventilators
which do not ventilate. With your permission,
Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches
into the inner apartment."
Dr. Grimesby Roylott`s chamber was larger
than that of his step-daughter, but was as
plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small wooden
shelf full of books, mostly of a technical
character, an armchair beside the bed, a plain
wooden chair against the wall, a round table,
and a large iron safe were the principal things
which met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round
and examined each and all of them with the
keenest interest.
"What`s in here?" he asked, tapping the safe.
"My stepfather`s business papers."
"Oh! you have seen inside, then?"
"Only once, some years ago. I remember that
it was full of papers."
"There isn`t a cat in it, for example?"
"No. What a strange idea!"
"Well, look at this!" He took up a small
saucer of milk which stood on the top of it.
"No; we don`t keep a cat. But there is a
cheetah and a baboon."
"Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just
a big cat, and yet a saucer of milk does not go
very far in satisfying its wants, I daresay.
There is one point which I should wish to
determine." He squatted down in front of the
wooden chair and examined the seat of it with
the greatest attention.
"Thank you. That is quite settled," said he,
rising and putting his lens in his pocket.
"Hullo! Here is something interesting!"
The object which had caught his eye was a
small dog lash hung on one corner of the bed.
The lash, however, was curled upon itself and
tied so as to make a loop of whipcord.
"What do you make of that, Watson?"
"It`s a common enough lash. But I don`t know
why it should be tied."
"That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me!
it`s a wicked world, and when a clever man turns
his brains to crime it is the worst of all. I
think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner,
and with your permission we shall walk out upon
the lawn."
I had never seen my friend`s face so grim or
his brow so dark as it was when we turned from
the scene of this investigation. We had walked
several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss
Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his
thoughts before he roused himself from his
reverie.
"It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he,
"that you should absolutely follow my advice in
every respect."
"I shall most certainly do so."
"The matter is too serious for any
hesitation. Your life may depend upon your
compliance."
"I assure you that I am in your hands."
"In the first place, both my friend and I
must spend the night in your room."
Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in
astonishment.
"Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I
believe that that is the village inn over
there?"
"Yes, that is the Crown."
"Very good. Your windows would be visible
from there?"
"Certainly."
"You must confine yourself to your room, on
pretence of a headache, when your stepfather
comes back. Then when you hear him retire for
the night, you must open the shutters of your
window, undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a
signal to us, and then withdraw quietly with
everything which you are likely to want into the
room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt
that, in spite of the repairs, you could manage
there for one night."
"Oh, yes, easily."
"The rest you will leave in our hands."
"But what will you do?"
"We shall spend the night in your room, and
we shall investigate the cause of this noise
which has disturbed you."
"I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already
made up your mind," said Miss Stoner, laying her
hand upon my companion`s sleeve.
"Perhaps I have."
"Then, for pity`s sake, tell me what was the
cause of my sister`s death."
"I should prefer to have clearer proofs
before I speak."
"You can at least tell me whether my own
thought is correct, and if she died from some
sudden fright."
"No, I do not think so. I think that there
was probably some more tangible cause. And now,
Miss Stoner, we must leave you for if Dr.
Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be
in vain. Good-bye, and be brave, for if you will
do what I have told you, you may rest assured
that we shall soon drive away the dangers that
threaten you."
Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in
engaging a bedroom and sitting-room at the Crown
Inn. They were on the upper floor, and from our
window we could command a view of the avenue
gate, and of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran
Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr. Grimesby Roylott
drive past, his huge form looming up beside the
little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy
had some slight difficulty in undoing the heavy
iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the
doctor`s voice and saw the fury with which he
shook his clinched fists at him. The trap drove
on, and a few minutes later we saw a sudden
light spring up among the trees as the lamp was
lit in one of the sitting-rooms.
"Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat
together in the gathering darkness, "I have
really some scruples as to taking you to-night.
There is a distinct element of danger."
"Can I be of assistance?"
"Your presence might be invaluable."
"Then I shall certainly come."
"It is very kind of you."
"You speak of danger. You have evidently seen
more in these rooms than was visible to me."
"No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a
little more. I imagine that you saw all that I
did."
"I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope,
and what purpose that could answer I confess is
more than I can imagine."
"You saw the ventilator, too?"
"Yes, but I do not think that it is such a
very unusual thing to have a small opening
between two rooms. It was so small that a rat
could hardly pass through."
"I knew that we should find a ventilator
before ever we came to Stoke Moran."
"My dear Holmes!"
"Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her
statement she said that her sister could smell
Dr. Roylott`s cigar. Now, of course that
suggested at once that there must be a
communication between the two rooms. It could
only be a small one, or it would have been
remarked upon at the coroner`s inquiry. I
deduced a ventilator."
"But what harm can there be in that?"
"Well, there is at least a curious
coincidence of dates. A ventilator is made, a
cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed
dies. Does not that strike you?"
"I cannot as yet see any connection."
"Did you observe anything very peculiar about
that bed?"
"No."
"It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever
see a bed fastened like that before?"
"I cannot say that I have."
"The lady could not move her bed. It must
always be in the same relative position to the
ventilator and to the rope--or so we may call
it, since it was clearly never meant for a
bell-pull."
"Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what
you are hinting at. We are only just in time to
prevent some subtle and horrible crime."
"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a
doctor does go wrong he is the first of
criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge.
Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of
their profession. This man strikes even deeper,
but I think, Watson, that we shall be able to
strike deeper still. But we shall have horrors
enough before the night is over; for goodness`
sake let us have a quiet pipe and turn our minds
for a few hours to something more cheerful."
About nine o`clock the light among the trees
was extinguished, and all was dark in the
direction of the Manor House. Two hours passed
slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the
stroke of eleven, a single bright light shone
out right in front of us.
"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing
to his feet; "it comes from the middle window."
As we passed out he exchanged a few words
with the landlord, explaining that we were going
on a late visit to an acquaintance, and that it
was possible that we might spend the night
there. A moment later we were out on the dark
road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and one
yellow light twinkling in front of us through
the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.
There was little difficulty in entering the
grounds, for unrepaired breaches gaped in the
old park wall. Making our way among the trees,
we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about
to enter through the window when out from a
clump of laurel bushes there darted what seemed
to be a hideous and distorted child, who threw
itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and
then ran swiftly across the lawn into the
darkness.
"My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?"
Holmes was for the moment as startled as I.
His hand closed like a vice upon my wrist in his
agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and
put his lips to my ear.
"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That
is the baboon."
I had forgotten the strange pets which the
doctor affected. There was a cheetah, too;
perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at
any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my
mind when, after following Holmes` example and
slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside the
bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed the
shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and
cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had
seen it in the daytime. Then creeping up to me
and making a trumpet of his hand, he whispered
into my ear again so gently that it was all that
I could do to distinguish the words:
"The least sound would be fatal to our
plans."
I nodded to show that I had heard.
"We must sit without light. He would see it
through the ventilator."
I nodded again.
"Do not go asleep; your very life may depend
upon it. Have your pistol ready in case we
should need it. I will sit on the side of the
bed, and you in that chair."
I took out my revolver and laid it on the
corner of the table.
Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and
this he placed upon the bed beside him. By it he
laid the box of matches and the stump of a
candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we
were left in darkness.
How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil?
I could not hear a sound, not even the drawing
of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion
sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the
same state of nervous tension in which I was
myself. The shutters cut off the least ray of
light, and we waited in absolute darkness.
From outside came the occasional cry of a
night-bird, and once at our very window a long
drawn catlike whine, which told us that the
cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could
hear the deep tones of the parish clock, which
boomed out every quarter of an hour. How long
they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and
one and two and three, and still we sat waiting
silently for whatever might befall.
Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a
light up in the direction of the ventilator,
which vanished immediately, but was succeeded by
a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal.
Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern.
I heard a gentle sound of movement, and then all
was silent once more, though the smell grew
stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining
ears. Then suddenly another sound became
audible--a very gentle, soothing sound, like
that of a small jet of steam escaping
continually from a kettle. The instant that we
heard it, Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a
match, and lashed furiously with his cane at the
bell-pull.
"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see
it?"
But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes
struck the light I heard a low, clear whistle,
but the sudden glare flashing into my weary eyes
made it impossible for me to tell what it was at
which my friend lashed so savagely. I could,
however, see that his face was deadly pale and
filled with horror and loathing. He had ceased
to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator
when suddenly there broke from the silence of
the night the most horrible cry to which I have
ever listened. It swelled up louder and louder,
a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all
mingled in the one dreadful shriek. They say
that away down in the village, and even in the
distant parsonage, that cry raised the sleepers
from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts,
and I stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me,
until the last echoes of it had died away into
the silence from which it rose.
"What can it mean?" I gasped.
"It means that it is all over," Holmes
answered. "And perhaps, after all, it is for the
best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr.
Roylott`s room."
With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the
way down the corridor. Twice he struck at the
chamber door without any reply from within. Then
he turned the handle and entered, I at his
heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.
It was a singular sight which met our eyes.
On the table stood a dark-lantern with the
shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beam of
light upon the iron safe, the door of which was
ajar. Beside this table, on the wooden chair,
sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott clad in a long grey
dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding
beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless
Turkish slippers. Across his lap lay the short
stock with the long lash which we had noticed
during the day. His chin was cocked upward and
his eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare
at the corner of the ceiling. Round his brow he
had a peculiar yellow band, with brownish
speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round
his head. As we entered he made neither sound
nor motion.
"The band! the speckled band!" whispered
Holmes.
I took a step forward. In an instant his
strange headgear began to move, and there reared
itself from among his hair the squat
diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a
loathsome serpent.
"It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the
deadliest snake in India. He has died within ten
seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in
truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer
falls into the pit which he digs for another.
Let us thrust this creature back into its den,
and we can then remove Miss Stoner to some place
of shelter and let the county police know what
has happened."
As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from
the dead man`s lap, and throwing the noose round
the reptile`s neck he drew it from its horrid
perch and, carrying it at arm`s length, threw it
into the iron safe, which he closed upon it.
Such are the true facts of the death of Dr.
Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran. It is not
necessary that I should prolong a narrative
which has already run to too great a length by
telling how we broke the sad news to the
terrified girl, how we conveyed her by the
morning train to the care of her good aunt at
Harrow, of how the slow process of official
inquiry came to the conclusion that the doctor
met his fate while indiscreetly playing with a
dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to
learn of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes
as we travelled back next day.
"I had," said he, "come to an entirely
erroneous conclusion which shows, my dear
Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason
from insufficient data. The presence of the
gipsies, and the use of the word `band,` which
was used by the poor girl, no doubt, to explain
the appearance which she had caught a hurried
glimpse of by the light of her match, were
sufficient to put me upon an entirely wrong
scent. I can only claim the merit that I
instantly reconsidered my position when,
however, it became clear to me that whatever
danger threatened an occupant of the room could
not come either from the window or the door. My
attention was speedily drawn, as I have already
remarked to you, to this ventilator, and to the
bell-rope which hung down to the bed. The
discovery that this was a dummy, and that the
bed was clamped to the floor, instantly gave
rise to the suspicion that the rope was there as
a bridge for something passing through the hole
and coming to the bed. The idea of a snake
instantly occurred to me, and when I coupled it
with my knowledge that the doctor was furnished
with a supply of creatures from India, I felt
that I was probably on the right track. The idea
of using a form of poison which could not
possibly be discovered by any chemical test was
just such a one as would occur to a clever and
ruthless man who had had an Eastern training.
The rapidity with which such a poison would take
effect would also, from his point of view, be an
advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed coroner,
indeed, who could distinguish the two little
dark punctures which would show where the poison
fangs had done their work. Then I thought of the
whistle. Of course he must recall the snake
before the morning light revealed it to the
victim. He had trained it, probably by the use
of the milk which we saw, to return to him when
summoned. He would put it through this
ventilator at the hour that he thought best,
with the certainty that it would crawl down the
rope and land on the bed. It might or might not
bite the occupant, perhaps she might escape
every night for a week, but sooner or later she
must fall a victim.
"I had come to these conclusions before ever
I had entered his room. An inspection of his
chair showed me that he had been in the habit of
standing on it, which of course would be
necessary in order that he should reach the
ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of
milk, and the loop of whipcord were enough to
finally dispel any doubts which may have
remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss
Stoner was obviously caused by her stepfather
hastily closing the door of his safe upon its
terrible occupant. Having once made up my mind,
you know the steps which I took in order to put
the matter to the proof. I heard the creature
hiss as I have no doubt that you did also, and I
instantly lit the light and attacked it."
"With the result of driving it through the
ventilator."
"And also with the result of causing it to
turn upon its master at the other side. Some of
the blows of my cane came home and roused its
snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first
person it saw. In this way I am no doubt
indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby
Roylott`s death, and I cannot say that it is
likely to weigh very heavily upon my
conscience."
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THE ADVENTURE OF THE
ENGINEER`S THUMB
Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr.
Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years
of our intimacy, there were only two which I was
the means of introducing to his notice--that of
Mr. Hatherley`s thumb, and that of Colonel
Warburton`s madness. Of these the latter may
have afforded a finer field for an acute and
original observer, but the other was so strange
in its inception and so dramatic in its details
that it may be the more worthy of being placed
upon record, even if it gave my friend fewer
openings for those deductive methods of
reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable
results. The story has, I believe, been told
more than once in the newspapers, but, like all
such narratives, its effect is much less
striking when set forth en bloc in a single
half-column of print than when the facts slowly
evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery
clears gradually away as each new discovery
furnishes a step which leads on to the complete
truth. At the time the circumstances made a deep
impression upon me, and the lapse of two years
has hardly served to weaken the effect.
It was in the summer of `89, not long after
my marriage, that the events occurred which I am
now about to summarise. I had returned to civil
practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his
Baker Street rooms, although I continually
visited him and occasionally even persuaded him
to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come
and visit us. My practice had steadily
increased, and as I happened to live at no very
great distance from Paddington Station, I got a
few patients from among the officials. One of
these, whom I had cured of a painful and
lingering disease, was never weary of
advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to
send me on every sufferer over whom he might
have any influence.
One morning, at a little before seven
o`clock, I was awakened by the maid tapping at
the door to announce that two men had come from
Paddington and were waiting in the
consulting-room. I dressed hurriedly, for I knew
by experience that railway cases were seldom
trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I
descended, my old ally, the guard, came out of
the room and closed the door tightly behind him.
"I`ve got him here," he whispered, jerking
his thumb over his shoulder; "he`s all right."
"What is it, then?" I asked, for his manner
suggested that it was some strange creature
which he had caged up in my room.
"It`s a new patient," he whispered. "I
thought I`d bring him round myself; then he
couldn`t slip away. There he is, all safe and
sound. I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties,
just the same as you." And off he went, this
trusty tout, without even giving me time to
thank him.
I entered my consulting-room and found a
gentleman seated by the table. He was quietly
dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft
cloth cap which he had laid down upon my books.
Round one of his hands he had a handkerchief
wrapped, which was mottled all over with
bloodstains. He was young, not more than
five-and-twenty, I should say, with a strong,
masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and
gave me the impression of a man who was
suffering from some strong agitation, which it
took all his strength of mind to control.
"I am sorry to knock you up so early,
Doctor," said he, "but I have had a very serious
accident during the night. I came in by train
this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as
to where I might find a doctor, a worthy fellow
very kindly escorted me here. I gave the maid a
card, but I see that she has left it upon the
side-table."
I took it up and glanced at it. "Mr. Victor
Hatherley, hydraulic engineer, 16A, Victoria
Street (3rd floor)." That was the name, style,
and abode of my morning visitor. "I regret that
I have kept you waiting," said I, sitting down
in my library-chair. "You are fresh from a night
journey, I understand, which is in itself a
monotonous occupation."
"Oh, my night could not be called
monotonous," said he, and laughed. He laughed
very heartily, with a high, ringing note,
leaning back in his chair and shaking his sides.
All my medical instincts rose up against that
laugh.
"Stop it!" I cried; "pull yourself together!"
and I poured out some water from a caraffe.
It was useless, however. He was off in one of
those hysterical outbursts which come upon a
strong nature when some great crisis is over and
gone. Presently he came to himself once more,
very weary and pale-looking.
"I have been making a fool of myself," he
gasped.
"Not at all. Drink this." I dashed some
brandy into the water, and the colour began to
come back to his bloodless cheeks.
"That`s better!" said he. "And now, Doctor,
perhaps you would kindly attend to my thumb, or
rather to the place where my thumb used to be."
He unwound the handkerchief and held out his
hand. It gave even my hardened nerves a shudder
to look at it. There were four protruding
fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where
the thumb should have been. It had been hacked
or torn right out from the roots.
"Good heavens!" I cried, "this is a terrible
injury. It must have bled considerably."
"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and
I think that I must have been senseless for a
long time. When I came to I found that it was
still bleeding, so I tied one end of my
handkerchief very tightly round the wrist and
braced it up with a twig."
"Excellent! You should have been a surgeon."
"It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and
came within my own province."
"This has been done," said I, examining the
wound, "by a very heavy and sharp instrument."
"A thing like a cleaver," said he.
"An accident, I presume?"
"By no means."
"What! a murderous attack?"
"Very murderous indeed."
"You horrify me."
I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it,
and finally covered it over with cotton wadding
and carbolised bandages. He lay back without
wincing, though he bit his lip from time to
time.
"How is that?" I asked when I had finished.
"Capital! Between your brandy and your
bandage, I feel a new man. I was very weak, but
I have had a good deal to go through."
"Perhaps you had better not speak of the
matter. It is evidently trying to your nerves."
"Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my
tale to the police; but, between ourselves, if
it were not for the convincing evidence of this
wound of mine, I should be surprised if they
believed my statement, for it is a very
extraordinary one, and I have not much in the
way of proof with which to back it up; and, even
if they believe me, the clues which I can give
them are so vague that it is a question whether
justice will be done."
"Ha!" cried I, "if it is anything in the
nature of a problem which you desire to see
solved, I should strongly recommend you to come
to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go
to the official police."
"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered
my visitor, "and I should be very glad if he
would take the matter up, though of course I
must use the official police as well. Would you
give me an introduction to him?"
"I`ll do better. I`ll take you round to him
myself."
"I should be immensely obliged to you."
"We`ll call a cab and go together. We shall
just be in time to have a little breakfast with
him. Do you feel equal to it?"
"Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told
my story."
"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall
be with you in an instant." I rushed upstairs,
explained the matter shortly to my wife, and in
five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with
my new acquaintance to Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging
about his sitting-room in his dressing-gown,
reading the agony column of The Times and
smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was
composed of all the plugs and dottles left from
his smokes of the day before, all carefully
dried and collected on the corner of the
mantelpiece. He received us in his quietly
genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs,
and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was
concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon
the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and
laid a glass of brandy and water within his
reach.
"It is easy to see that your experience has
been no common one, Mr. Hatherley," said he.
"Pray, lie down there and make yourself
absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but
stop when you are tired and keep up your
strength with a little stimulant."
"Thank you," said my patient. "but I have
felt another man since the doctor bandaged me,
and I think that your breakfast has completed
the cure. I shall take up as little of your
valuable time as possible, so I shall start at
once upon my peculiar experiences."
Holmes sat in his big armchair with the
weary, heavy-lidded expression which veiled his
keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to
him, and we listened in silence to the strange
story which our visitor detailed to us.
"You must know," said he, "that I am an
orphan and a bachelor, residing alone in
lodgings in London. By profession I am a
hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable
experience of my work during the seven years
that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the
well-known firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago,
having served my time, and having also come into
a fair sum of money through my poor father`s
death, I determined to start in business for
myself and took professional chambers in
Victoria Street.
"I suppose that everyone finds his first
independent start in business a dreary
experience. To me it has been exceptionally so.
During two years I have had three consultations
and one small job, and that is absolutely all
that my profession has brought me. My gross
takings amount to 27 pounds 10s. Every day, from
nine in the morning until four in the afternoon,
I waited in my little den, until at last my
heart began to sink, and I came to believe that
I should never have any practice at all.
"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking
of leaving the office, my clerk entered to say
there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see
me upon business. He brought up a card, too,
with the name of `Colonel Lysander Stark`
engraved upon it. Close at his heels came the
colonel himself, a man rather over the middle
size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not
think that I have ever seen so thin a man. His
whole face sharpened away into nose and chin,
and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense
over his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation
seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no
disease, for his eye was bright, his step brisk,
and his bearing assured. He was plainly but
neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge,
would be nearer forty than thirty.
"`Mr. Hatherley?` said he, with something of
a German accent. `You have been recommended to
me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not
only proficient in his profession but is also
discreet and capable of preserving a secret.`
"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young
man would at such an address. `May I ask who it
was who gave me so good a character?`
"`Well, perhaps it is better that I should
not tell you that just at this moment. I have it
from the same source that you are both an orphan
and a bachelor and are residing alone in
London.`
"`That is quite correct,` I answered; `but
you will excuse me if I say that I cannot see
how all this bears upon my professional
qualifications. I understand that it was on a
professional matter that you wished to speak to
me?`
"`Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all
I say is really to the point. I have a
professional commission for you, but absolute
secrecy is quite essential--absolute secrecy,
you understand, and of course we may expect that
more from a man who is alone than from one who
lives in the bosom of his family.`
"`If I promise to keep a secret,` said I,
`you may absolutely depend upon my doing so.`
"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it
seemed to me that I had never seen so suspicious
and questioning an eye.
"`Do you promise, then?` said he at last.
"`Yes, I promise.`
"`Absolute and complete silence before,
during, and after? No reference to the matter at
all, either in word or writing?`
"`I have already given you my word.`
"`Very good.` He suddenly sprang up, and
darting like lightning across the room he flung
open the door. The passage outside was empty.
"`That`s all right,` said he, coming back. `I
know that clerks are sometimes curious as to
their master`s affairs. Now we can talk in
safety.` He drew up his chair very close to mine
and began to stare at me again with the same
questioning and thoughtful look.
"A feeling of repulsion, and of something
akin to fear had begun to rise within me at the
strange antics of this fleshless man. Even my
dread of losing a client could not restrain me
from showing my impatience.
"`I beg that you will state your business,
sir,` said I; `my time is of value.` Heaven
forgive me for that last sentence, but the words
came to my lips.
"`How would fifty guineas for a night`s work
suit you?` he asked.
"`Most admirably.`
"`I say a night`s work, but an hour`s would
be nearer the mark. I simply want your opinion
about a hydraulic stamping machine which has got
out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we
shall soon set it right ourselves. What do you
think of such a commission as that?`
"`The work appears to be light and the pay
munificent.`
"`Precisely so. We shall want you to come
to-night by the last train.`
"`Where to?`
"`To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little
place near the borders of Oxfordshire, and
within seven miles of Reading. There is a train
from Paddington which would bring you there at
about 11:15.`
"`Very good.`
"`I shall come down in a carriage to meet
you.`
"`There is a drive, then?`
"`Yes, our little place is quite out in the
country. It is a good seven miles from Eyford
Station.`
"`Then we can hardly get there before
midnight. I suppose there would be no chance of
a train back. I should be compelled to stop the
night.`
"`Yes, we could easily give you a
shake-down.`
"`That is very awkward. Could I not come at
some more convenient hour?`
"`We have judged it best that you should come
late. It is to recompense you for any
inconvenience that we are paying to you, a young
and unknown man, a fee which would buy an
opinion from the very heads of your profession.
Still, of course, if you would like to draw out
of the business, there is plenty of time to do
so.`
"I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how
very useful they would be to me. `Not at all,`
said I, `I shall be very happy to accommodate
myself to your wishes. I should like, however,
to understand a little more clearly what it is
that you wish me to do.`
"`Quite so. It is very natural that the
pledge of secrecy which we have exacted from you
should have aroused your curiosity. I have no
wish to commit you to anything without your
having it all laid before you. I suppose that we
are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers?`
"`Entirely.`
"`Then the matter stands thus. You are
probably aware that fuller`s-earth is a valuable
product, and that it is only found in one or two
places in England?`
"`I have heard so.`
"`Some little time ago I bought a small
place--a very small place--within ten miles of
Reading. I was fortunate enough to discover that
there was a deposit of fuller`s-earth in one of
my fields. On examining it, however, I found
that this deposit was a comparatively small one,
and that it formed a link between two very much
larger ones upon the right and left--both of
them, however, in the grounds of my neighbours.
These good people were absolutely ignorant that
their land contained that which was quite as
valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally, it was to my
interest to buy their land before they
discovered its true value, but unfortunately I
had no capital by which I could do this. I took
a few of my friends into the secret, however,
and they suggested that we should quietly and
secretly work our own little deposit and that in
this way we should earn the money which would
enable us to buy the neighbouring fields. This
we have now been doing for some time, and in
order to help us in our operations we erected a
hydraulic press. This press, as I have already
explained, has got out of order, and we wish
your advice upon the subject. We guard our
secret very jealously, however, and if it once
became known that we had hydraulic engineers
coming to our little house, it would soon rouse
inquiry, and then, if the facts came out, it
would be good-bye to any chance of getting these
fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I
have made you promise me that you will not tell
a human being that you are going to Eyford
to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?`
"`I quite follow you,` said I. `The only
point which I could not quite understand was
what use you could make of a hydraulic press in
excavating fuller`s-earth, which, as I
understand, is dug out like gravel from a pit.`
"`Ah!` said he carelessly, `we have our own
process. We compress the earth into bricks, so
as to remove them without revealing what they
are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you
fully into my confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and
I have shown you how I trust you.` He rose as he
spoke. `I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at
11:15.`
"`I shall certainly be there.`
"`And not a word to a soul.` He looked at me
with a last long, questioning gaze, and then,
pressing my hand in a cold, dank grasp, he
hurried from the room.
"Well, when I came to think it all over in
cool blood I was very much astonished, as you
may both think, at this sudden commission which
had been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of
course, I was glad, for the fee was at least
tenfold what I should have asked had I set a
price upon my own services, and it was possible
that this order might lead to other ones. On the
other hand, the face and manner of my patron had
made an unpleasant impression upon me, and I
could not think that his explanation of the
fuller`s-earth was sufficient to explain the
necessity for my coming at midnight, and his
extreme anxiety lest I should tell anyone of my
errand. However, I threw all fears to the winds,
ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and
started off, having obeyed to the letter the
injunction as to holding my tongue.
"At Reading I had to change not only my
carriage but my station. However, I was in time
for the last train to Eyford, and I reached the
little dim-lit station after eleven o`clock. I
was the only passenger who got out there, and
there was no one upon the platform save a single
sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed out
through the wicket gate, however, I found my
acquaintance of the morning waiting in the
shadow upon the other side. Without a word he
grasped my arm and hurried me into a carriage,
the door of which was standing open. He drew up
the windows on either side, tapped on the
wood-work, and away we went as fast as the horse
could go."
"One horse?" interjected Holmes.
"Yes, only one."
"Did you observe the colour?"
"Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was
stepping into the carriage. It was a chestnut."
"Tired-looking or fresh?"
"Oh, fresh and glossy."
"Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted
you. Pray continue your most interesting
statement."
"Away we went then, and we drove for at least
an hour. Colonel Lysander Stark had said that it
was only seven miles, but I should think, from
the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time
that we took, that it must have been nearer
twelve. He sat at my side in silence all the
time, and I was aware, more than once when I
glanced in his direction, that he was looking at
me with great intensity. The country roads seem
to be not very good in that part of the world,
for we lurched and jolted terribly. I tried to
look out of the windows to see something of
where we were, but they were made of frosted
glass, and I could make out nothing save the
occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now
and then I hazarded some remark to break the
monotony of the journey, but the colonel
answered only in monosyllables, and the
conversation soon flagged. At last, however, the
bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp
smoothness of a gravel-drive, and the carriage
came to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang
out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me
swiftly into a porch which gaped in front of us.
We stepped, as it were, right out of the
carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to
catch the most fleeting glance of the front of
the house. The instant that I had crossed the
threshold the door slammed heavily behind us,
and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as
the carriage drove away.
"It was pitch dark inside the house, and the
colonel fumbled about looking for matches and
muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door
opened at the other end of the passage, and a
long, golden bar of light shot out in our
direction. It grew broader, and a woman appeared
with a lamp in her hand, which she held above
her head, pushing her face forward and peering
at us. I could see that she was pretty, and from
the gloss with which the light shone upon her
dark dress I knew that it was a rich material.
She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a
tone as though asking a question, and when my
companion answered in a gruff monosyllable she
gave such a start that the lamp nearly fell from
her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her,
whispered something in her ear, and then,
pushing her back into the room from whence she
had come, he walked towards me again with the
lamp in his hand.
"`Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait
in this room for a few minutes,` said he,
throwing open another door. It was a quiet,
little, plainly furnished room, with a round
table in the centre, on which several German
books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down
the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the
door. `I shall not keep you waiting an instant,`
said he, and vanished into the darkness.
"I glanced at the books upon the table, and
in spite of my ignorance of German I could see
that two of them were treatises on science, the
others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked
across to the window, hoping that I might catch
some glimpse of the country-side, but an oak
shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it.
It was a wonderfully silent house. There was an
old clock ticking loudly somewhere in the
passage, but otherwise everything was deadly
still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began to
steal over me. Who were these German people, and
what were they doing living in this strange,
out-of-the-way place? And where was the place? I
was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was all I
knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I
had no idea. For that matter, Reading, and
possibly other large towns, were within that
radius, so the place might not be so secluded,
after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the
absolute stillness, that we were in the country.
I paced up and down the room, humming a tune
under my breath to keep up my spirits and
feeling that I was thoroughly earning my
fifty-guinea fee.
"Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in
the midst of the utter stillness, the door of my
room swung slowly open. The woman was standing
in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind
her, the yellow light from my lamp beating upon
her eager and beautiful face. I could see at a
glance that she was sick with fear, and the
sight sent a chill to my own heart. She held up
one shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and
she shot a few whispered words of broken English
at me, her eyes glancing back, like those of a
frightened horse, into the gloom behind her.
"`I would go,` said she, trying hard, as it
seemed to me, to speak calmly; `I would go. I
should not stay here. There is no good for you
to do.`
"`But, madam,` said I, `I have not yet done
what I came for. I cannot possibly leave until I
have seen the machine.`
"`It is not worth your while to wait,` she
went on. `You can pass through the door; no one
hinders.` And then, seeing that I smiled and
shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her
constraint and made a step forward, with her
hands wrung together. `For the love of Heaven!`
she whispered, `get away from here before it is
too late!`
"But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and
the more ready to engage in an affair when there
is some obstacle in the way. I thought of my
fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and
of the unpleasant night which seemed to be
before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why
should I slink away without having carried out
my commission, and without the payment which was
my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a
monomaniac. With a stout bearing, therefore,
though her manner had shaken me more than I
cared to confess, I still shook my head and
declared my intention of remaining where I was.
She was about to renew her entreaties when a
door slammed overhead, and the sound of several
footsteps was heard upon the stairs. She
listened for an instant, threw up her hands with
a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly
and as noiselessly as she had come.
"The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark
and a short thick man with a chinchilla beard
growing out of the creases of his double chin,
who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson.
"`This is my secretary and manager,` said the
colonel. `By the way, I was under the impression
that I left this door shut just now. I fear that
you have felt the draught.`
"`On the contrary,` said I, `I opened the
door myself because I felt the room to be a
little close.`
"He shot one of his suspicious looks at me.
`Perhaps we had better proceed to business,
then,` said he. `Mr. Ferguson and I will take
you up to see the machine.`
"`I had better put my hat on, I suppose.`
"`Oh, no, it is in the house.`
"`What, you dig fuller`s-earth in the house?`
"`No, no. This is only where we compress it.
But never mind that. All we wish you to do is to
examine the machine and to let us know what is
wrong with it.`
"We went upstairs together, the colonel first
with the lamp, the fat manager and I behind him.
It was a labyrinth of an old house, with
corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases,
and little low doors, the thresholds of which
were hollowed out by the generations who had
crossed them. There were no carpets and no signs
of any furniture above the ground floor, while
the plaster was peeling off the walls, and the
damp was breaking through in green, unhealthy
blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an
air as possible, but I had not forgotten the
warnings of the lady, even though I disregarded
them, and I kept a keen eye upon my two
companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and
silent man, but I could see from the little that
he said that he was at least a
fellow-countryman.
"Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last
before a low door, which he unlocked. Within was
a small, square room, in which the three of us
could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained
outside, and the colonel ushered me in.
"`We are now,` said he, `actually within the
hydraulic press, and it would be a particularly
unpleasant thing for us if anyone were to turn
it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is
really the end of the descending piston, and it
comes down with the force of many tons upon this
metal floor. There are small lateral columns of
water outside which receive the force, and which
transmit and multiply it in the manner which is
familiar to you. The machine goes readily
enough, but there is some stiffness in the
working of it, and it has lost a little of its
force. Perhaps you will have the goodness to
look it over and to show us how we can set it
right.`
"I took the lamp from him, and I examined the
machine very thoroughly. It was indeed a
gigantic one, and capable of exercising enormous
pressure. When I passed outside, however, and
pressed down the levers which controlled it, I
knew at once by the whishing sound that there
was a slight leakage, which allowed a
regurgitation of water through one of the side
cylinders. An examination showed that one of the
india-rubber bands which was round the head of a
driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to fill
the socket along which it worked. This was
clearly the cause of the loss of power, and I
pointed it out to my companions, who followed my
remarks very carefully and asked several
practical questions as to how they should
proceed to set it right. When I had made it
clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of
the machine and took a good look at it to
satisfy my own curiosity. It was obvious at a
glance that the story of the fuller`s-earth was
the merest fabrication, for it would be absurd
to suppose that so powerful an engine could be
designed for so inadequate a purpose. The walls
were of wood, but the floor consisted of a large
iron trough, and when I came to examine it I
could see a crust of metallic deposit all over
it. I had stooped and was scraping at this to
see exactly what it was when I heard a muttered
exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous
face of the colonel looking down at me.
"`What are you doing there?` he asked.
"I felt angry at having been tricked by so
elaborate a story as that which he had told me.
`I was admiring your fuller`s-earth,` said I; `I
think that I should be better able to advise you
as to your machine if I knew what the exact
purpose was for which it was used.`
"The instant that I uttered the words I
regretted the rashness of my speech. His face
set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in his
grey eyes.
"`Very well,` said he, `you shall know all
about the machine.` He took a step backward,
slammed the little door, and turned the key in
the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the
handle, but it was quite secure, and did not
give in the least to my kicks and shoves.
`Hullo!` I yelled. `Hullo! Colonel! Let me out!`
"And then suddenly in the silence I heard a
sound which sent my heart into my mouth. It was
the clank of the levers and the swish of the
leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work.
The lamp still stood upon the floor where I had
placed it when examining the trough. By its
light I saw that the black ceiling was coming
down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew
better than myself, with a force which must
within a minute grind me to a shapeless pulp. I
threw myself, screaming, against the door, and
dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored
the colonel to let me out, but the remorseless
clanking of the levers drowned my cries. The
ceiling was only a foot or two above my head,
and with my hand upraised I could feel its hard,
rough surface. Then it flashed through my mind
that the pain of my death would depend very much
upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on
my face the weight would come upon my spine, and
I shuddered to think of that dreadful snap.
Easier the other way, perhaps; and yet, had I
the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly
black shadow wavering down upon me? Already I
was unable to stand erect, when my eye caught
something which brought a gush of hope back to
my heart.
"I have said that though the floor and
ceiling were of iron, the walls were of wood. As
I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw a
thin line of yellow light between two of the
boards, which broadened and broadened as a small
panel was pushed backward. For an instant I
could hardly believe that here was indeed a door
which led away from death. The next instant I
threw myself through, and lay half-fainting upon
the other side. The panel had closed again
behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few
moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of
metal, told me how narrow had been my escape.
"I was recalled to myself by a frantic
plucking at my wrist, and I found myself lying
upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, while
a woman bent over me and tugged at me with her
left hand, while she held a candle in her right.
It was the same good friend whose warning I had
so foolishly rejected.
"`Come! come!` she cried breathlessly. `They
will be here in a moment. They will see that you
are not there. Oh, do not waste the so-precious
time, but come!`
"This time, at least, I did not scorn her
advice. I staggered to my feet and ran with her
along the corridor and down a winding stair. The
latter led to another broad passage, and just as
we reached it we heard the sound of running feet
and the shouting of two voices, one answering
the other from the floor on which we were and
from the one beneath. My guide stopped and
looked about her like one who is at her wit`s
end. Then she threw open a door which led into a
bedroom, through the window of which the moon
was shining brightly.
"`It is your only chance,` said she. `It is
high, but it may be that you can jump it.`
"As she spoke a light sprang into view at the
further end of the passage, and I saw the lean
figure of Colonel Lysander Stark rushing forward
with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a
butcher`s cleaver in the other. I rushed across
the bedroom, flung open the window, and looked
out. How quiet and sweet and wholesome the
garden looked in the moonlight, and it could not
be more than thirty feet down. I clambered out
upon the sill, but I hesitated to jump until I
should have heard what passed between my saviour
and the ruffian who pursued me. If she were
ill-used, then at any risks I was determined to
go back to her assistance. The thought had
hardly flashed through my mind before he was at
the door, pushing his way past her; but she
threw her arms round him and tried to hold him
back.
"`Fritz! Fritz!` she cried in English,
`remember your promise after the last time. You
said it should not be again. He will be silent!
Oh, he will be silent!`
"`You are mad, Elise!` he shouted, struggling
to break away from her. `You will be the ruin of
us. He has seen too much. Let me pass, I say!`
He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the
window, cut at me with his heavy weapon. I had
let myself go, and was hanging by the hands to
the sill, when his blow fell. I was conscious of
a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into
the garden below.
"I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I
picked myself up and rushed off among the bushes
as hard as I could run, for I understood that I
was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly,
however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and
sickness came over me. I glanced down at my
hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then,
for the first time, saw that my thumb had been
cut off and that the blood was pouring from my
wound. I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief
round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my
ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint
among the rose-bushes.
"How long I remained unconscious I cannot
tell. It must have been a very long time, for
the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was
breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were
all sodden with dew, and my coat-sleeve was
drenched with blood from my wounded thumb. The
smarting of it recalled in an instant all the
particulars of my night`s adventure, and I
sprang to my feet with the feeling that I might
hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But to my
astonishment, when I came to look round me,
neither house nor garden were to be seen. I had
been lying in an angle of the hedge close by the
highroad, and just a little lower down was a
long building, which proved, upon my approaching
it, to be the very station at which I had
arrived upon the previous night. Were it not for
the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed
during those dreadful hours might have been an
evil dream.
"Half dazed, I went into the station and
asked about the morning train. There would be
one to Reading in less than an hour. The same
porter was on duty, I found, as had been there
when I arrived. I inquired of him whether he had
ever heard of Colonel Lysander Stark. The name
was strange to him. Had he observed a carriage
the night before waiting for me? No, he had not.
Was there a police-station anywhere near? There
was one about three miles off.
"It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as
I was. I determined to wait until I got back to
town before telling my story to the police. It
was a little past six when I arrived, so I went
first to have my wound dressed, and then the
doctor was kind enough to bring me along here. I
put the case into your hands and shall do
exactly what you advise."
We both sat in silence for some little time
after listening to this extraordinary narrative.
Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down from the shelf
one of the ponderous commonplace books in which
he placed his cuttings.
"Here is an advertisement which will interest
you," said he. "It appeared in all the papers
about a year ago. Listen to this: `Lost, on the
9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged
twenty-six, a hydraulic engineer. Left his
lodgings at ten o`clock at night, and has not
been heard of since. Was dressed in,` etc., etc.
Ha! That represents the last time that the
colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I
fancy."
"Good heavens!" cried my patient. "Then that
explains what the girl said."
"Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the
colonel was a cool and desperate man, who was
absolutely determined that nothing should stand
in the way of his little game, like those
out-and-out pirates who will leave no survivor
from a captured ship. Well, every moment now is
precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall go
down to Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary
to starting for Eyford."
Some three hours or so afterwards we were all
in the train together, bound from Reading to the
little Berkshire village. There were Sherlock
Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector
Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes
man, and myself. Bradstreet had spread an
ordnance map of the county out upon the seat and
was busy with his compasses drawing a circle
with Eyford for its centre.
"There you are," said he. "That circle is
drawn at a radius of ten miles from the village.
The place we want must be somewhere near that
line. You said ten miles, I think, sir."
"It was an hour`s good drive."
"And you think that they brought you back all
that way when you were unconscious?"
"They must have done so. I have a confused
memory, too, of having been lifted and conveyed
somewhere."
"What I cannot understand," said I, "is why
they should have spared you when they found you
lying fainting in the garden. Perhaps the
villain was softened by the woman`s entreaties."
"I hardly think that likely. I never saw a
more inexorable face in my life."
"Oh, we shall soon clear up all that," said
Bradstreet. "Well, I have drawn my circle, and I
only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk
that we are in search of are to be found."
"I think I could lay my finger on it," said
Holmes quietly.
"Really, now!" cried the inspector, "you have
formed your opinion! Come, now, we shall see who
agrees with you. I say it is south, for the
country is more deserted there."
"And I say east," said my patient.
"I am for west," remarked the plain-clothes
man. "There are several quiet little villages up
there."
"And I am for north," said I, "because there
are no hills there, and our friend says that he
did not notice the carriage go up any."
"Come," cried the inspector, laughing; "it`s
a very pretty diversity of opinion. We have
boxed the compass among us. Who do you give your
casting vote to?"
"You are all wrong."
"But we can`t all be."
"Oh, yes, you can. This is my point." He
placed his finger in the centre of the circle.
"This is where we shall find them."
"But the twelve-mile drive?" gasped
Hatherley.
"Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You
say yourself that the horse was fresh and glossy
when you got in. How could it be that if it had
gone twelve miles over heavy roads?"
"Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough,"
observed Bradstreet thoughtfully. "Of course
there can be no doubt as to the nature of this
gang."
"None at all," said Holmes. "They are coiners
on a large scale, and have used the machine to
form the amalgam which has taken the place of
silver."
"We have known for some time that a clever
gang was at work," said the inspector. "They
have been turning out half-crowns by the
thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading,
but could get no farther, for they had covered
their traces in a way that showed that they were
very old hands. But now, thanks to this lucky
chance, I think that we have got them right
enough."
But the inspector was mistaken, for those
criminals were not destined to fall into the
hands of justice. As we rolled into Eyford
Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which
streamed up from behind a small clump of trees
in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense
ostrich feather over the landscape.
"A house on fire?" asked Bradstreet as the
train steamed off again on its way.
"Yes, sir!" said the station-master.
"When did it break out?"
"I hear that it was during the night, sir,
but it has got worse, and the whole place is in
a blaze."
"Whose house is it?"
"Dr. Becher`s."
"Tell me," broke in the engineer, "is Dr.
Becher a German, very thin, with a long, sharp
nose?"
The station-master laughed heartily. "No,
sir, Dr. Becher is an Englishman, and there
isn`t a man in the parish who has a better-lined
waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with
him, a patient, as I understand, who is a
foreigner, and he looks as if a little good
Berkshire beef would do him no harm."
The station-master had not finished his
speech before we were all hastening in the
direction of the fire. The road topped a low
hill, and there was a great widespread
whitewashed building in front of us, spouting
fire at every chink and window, while in the
garden in front three fire-engines were vainly
striving to keep the flames under.
"That`s it!" cried Hatherley, in intense
excitement. "There is the gravel-drive, and
there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That
second window is the one that I jumped from."
"Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had
your revenge upon them. There can be no question
that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was
crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden
walls, though no doubt they were too excited in
the chase after you to observe it at the time.
Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your
friends of last night, though I very much fear
that they are a good hundred miles off by now."
And Holmes` fears came to be realised, for
from that day to this no word has ever been
heard either of the beautiful woman, the
sinister German, or the morose Englishman. Early
that morning a peasant had met a cart containing
several people and some very bulky boxes driving
rapidly in the direction of Reading, but there
all traces of the fugitives disappeared, and
even Holmes` ingenuity failed ever to discover
the least clue as to their whereabouts.
The firemen had been much perturbed at the
strange arrangements which they had found
within, and still more so by discovering a newly
severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the
second floor. About sunset, however, their
efforts were at last successful, and they
subdued the flames, but not before the roof had
fallen in, and the whole place been reduced to
such absolute ruin that, save some twisted
cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained
of the machinery which had cost our unfortunate
acquaintance so dearly. Large masses of nickel
and of tin were discovered stored in an
out-house, but no coins were to be found, which
may have explained the presence of those bulky
boxes which have been already referred to.
How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed
from the garden to the spot where he recovered
his senses might have remained forever a mystery
were it not for the soft mould, which told us a
very plain tale. He had evidently been carried
down by two persons, one of whom had remarkably
small feet and the other unusually large ones.
On the whole, it was most probable that the
silent Englishman, being less bold or less
murderous than his companion, had assisted the
woman to bear the unconscious man out of the way
of danger.
"Well," said our engineer ruefully as we took
our seats to return once more to London, "it has
been a pretty business for me! I have lost my
thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and
what have I gained?"
"Experience," said Holmes, laughing.
"Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you
have only to put it into words to gain the
reputation of being excellent company for the
remainder of your existence."
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THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE
BACHELOR
The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have long
ceased to be a subject of interest in those
exalted circles in which the unfortunate
bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have eclipsed
it, and their more piquant details have drawn
the gossips away from this four-year-old drama.
As I have reason to believe, however, that the
full facts have never been revealed to the
general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes
had a considerable share in clearing the matter
up, I feel that no memoir of him would be
complete without some little sketch of this
remarkable episode.
It was a few weeks before my own marriage,
during the days when I was still sharing rooms
with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came home
from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the
table waiting for him. I had remained indoors
all day, for the weather had taken a sudden turn
to rain, with high autumnal winds, and the
Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of
my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign
throbbed with dull persistence. With my body in
one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had
surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers
until at last, saturated with the news of the
day, I tossed them all aside and lay listless,
watching the huge crest and monogram upon the
envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who
my friend`s noble correspondent could be.
"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I
remarked as he entered. "Your morning letters,
if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and
a tide-waiter."
"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the
charm of variety," he answered, smiling, "and
the humbler are usually the more interesting.
This looks like one of those unwelcome social
summonses which call upon a man either to be
bored or to lie."
He broke the seal and glanced over the
contents.
"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of
interest, after all."
"Not social, then?"
"No, distinctly professional."
"And from a noble client?"
"One of the highest in England."
"My dear fellow, I congratulate you."
"I assure you, Watson, without affectation,
that the status of my client is a matter of less
moment to me than the interest of his case. It
is just possible, however, that that also may
not be wanting in this new investigation. You
have been reading the papers diligently of late,
have you not?"
"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing
to a huge bundle in the corner. "I have had
nothing else to do."
"It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be
able to post me up. I read nothing except the
criminal news and the agony column. The latter
is always instructive. But if you have followed
recent events so closely you must have read
about Lord St. Simon and his wedding?"
"Oh, yes, with the deepest interest."
"That is well. The letter which I hold in my
hand is from Lord St. Simon. I will read it to
you, and in return you must turn over these
papers and let me have whatever bears upon the
matter. This is what he says:
"`MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES:--Lord
Backwater tells me that I may place implicit
reliance upon your judgment and discretion. I
have determined, therefore, to call upon you and
to consult you in reference to the very painful
event which has occurred in connection with my
wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is
acting already in the matter, but he assures me
that he sees no objection to your co-operation,
and that he even thinks that it might be of some
assistance. I will call at four o`clock in the
afternoon, and, should you have any other
engagement at that time, I hope that you will
postpone it, as this matter is of paramount
importance. Yours faithfully, ST. SIMON.`
"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written
with a quill pen, and the noble lord has had the
misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the outer
side of his right little finger," remarked
Holmes as he folded up the epistle.
"He says four o`clock. It is three now. He
will be here in an hour."
"Then I have just time, with your assistance,
to get clear upon the subject. Turn over those
papers and arrange the extracts in their order
of time, while I take a glance as to who our
client is." He picked a red-covered volume from
a line of books of reference beside the
mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sitting down
and flattening it out upon his knee. "`Lord
Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, second son
of the Duke of Balmoral.` Hum! `Arms: Azure,
three caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born
in 1846.` He`s forty-one years of age, which is
mature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for the
colonies in a late administration. The Duke, his
father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign
Affairs. They inherit Plantagenet blood by
direct descent, and Tudor on the distaff side.
Ha! Well, there is nothing very instructive in
all this. I think that I must turn to you
Watson, for something more solid."
"I have very little difficulty in finding
what I want," said I, "for the facts are quite
recent, and the matter struck me as remarkable.
I feared to refer them to you, however, as I
knew that you had an inquiry on hand and that
you disliked the intrusion of other matters."
"Oh, you mean the little problem of the
Grosvenor Square furniture van. That is quite
cleared up now--though, indeed, it was obvious
from the first. Pray give me the results of your
newspaper selections."
"Here is the first notice which I can find.
It is in the personal column of the Morning
Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks back: `A
marriage has been arranged,` it says, `and will,
if rumour is correct, very shortly take place,
between Lord Robert St. Simon, second son of the
Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, the only
daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San
Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.` That is all."
"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes,
stretching his long, thin legs towards the fire.
"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one
of the society papers of the same week. Ah, here
it is: `There will soon be a call for protection
in the marriage market, for the present
free-trade principle appears to tell heavily
against our home product. One by one the
management of the noble houses of Great Britain
is passing into the hands of our fair cousins
from across the Atlantic. An important addition
has been made during the last week to the list
of the prizes which have been borne away by
these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has
shown himself for over twenty years proof
against the little god`s arrows, has now
definitely announced his approaching marriage
with Miss Hatty Doran, the fascinating daughter
of a California millionaire. Miss Doran, whose
graceful figure and striking face attracted much
attention at the Westbury House festivities, is
an only child, and it is currently reported that
her dowry will run to considerably over the six
figures, with expectancies for the future. As it
is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has
been compelled to sell his pictures within the
last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has no
property of his own save the small estate of
Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian
heiress is not the only gainer by an alliance
which will enable her to make the easy and
common transition from a Republican lady to a
British peeress.`"
"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning.
"Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note
in the Morning Post to say that the marriage
would be an absolutely quiet one, that it would
be at St. George`s, Hanover Square, that only
half a dozen intimate friends would be invited,
and that the party would return to the furnished
house at Lancaster Gate which has been taken by
Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later--that is, on
Wednesday last--there is a curt announcement
that the wedding had taken place, and that the
honeymoon would be passed at Lord Backwater`s
place, near Petersfield. Those are all the
notices which appeared before the disappearance
of the bride."
"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start.
"The vanishing of the lady."
"When did she vanish, then?"
"At the wedding breakfast."
"Indeed. This is more interesting than it
promised to be; quite dramatic, in fact."
"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of
the common."
"They often vanish before the ceremony, and
occasionally during the honeymoon; but I cannot
call to mind anything quite so prompt as this.
Pray let me have the details."
"I warn you that they are very incomplete."
"Perhaps we may make them less so."
"Such as they are, they are set forth in a
single article of a morning paper of yesterday,
which I will read to you. It is headed,
`Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding`:
"`The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has
been thrown into the greatest consternation by
the strange and painful episodes which have
taken place in connection with his wedding. The
ceremony, as shortly announced in the papers of
yesterday, occurred on the previous morning; but
it is only now that it has been possible to
confirm the strange rumours which have been so
persistently floating about. In spite of the
attempts of the friends to hush the matter up,
so much public attention has now been drawn to
it that no good purpose can be served by
affecting to disregard what is a common subject
for conversation.
"`The ceremony, which was performed at St.
George`s, Hanover Square, was a very quiet one,
no one being present save the father of the
bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of
Balmoral, Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady
Clara St. Simon (the younger brother and sister
of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington.
The whole party proceeded afterwards to the
house of Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate,
where breakfast had been prepared. It appears
that some little trouble was caused by a woman,
whose name has not been ascertained, who
endeavoured to force her way into the house
after the bridal party, alleging that she had
some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only
after a painful and prolonged scene that she was
ejected by the butler and the footman. The
bride, who had fortunately entered the house
before this unpleasant interruption, had sat
down to breakfast with the rest, when she
complained of a sudden indisposition and retired
to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused
some comment, her father followed her, but
learned from her maid that she had only come up
to her chamber for an instant, caught up an
ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the
passage. One of the footmen declared that he had
seen a lady leave the house thus apparelled, but
had refused to credit that it was his mistress,
believing her to be with the company. On
ascertaining that his daughter had disappeared,
Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction with the
bridegroom, instantly put themselves in
communication with the police, and very
energetic inquiries are being made, which will
probably result in a speedy clearing up of this
very singular business. Up to a late hour last
night, however, nothing had transpired as to the
whereabouts of the missing lady. There are
rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is
said that the police have caused the arrest of
the woman who had caused the original
disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy
or some other motive, she may have been
concerned in the strange disappearance of the
bride.`"
"And is that all?"
"Only one little item in another of the
morning papers, but it is a suggestive one."
"And it is--"
"That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had
caused the disturbance, has actually been
arrested. It appears that she was formerly a
danseuse at the Allegro, and that she has known
the bridegroom for some years. There are no
further particulars, and the whole case is in
your hands now--so far as it has been set forth
in the public press."
"And an exceedingly interesting case it
appears to be. I would not have missed it for
worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson,
and as the clock makes it a few minutes after
four, I have no doubt that this will prove to be
our noble client. Do not dream of going, Watson,
for I very much prefer having a witness, if only
as a check to my own memory."
"Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our
page-boy, throwing open the door. A gentleman
entered, with a pleasant, cultured face,
high-nosed and pale, with something perhaps of
petulance about the mouth, and with the steady,
well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it
had ever been to command and to be obeyed. His
manner was brisk, and yet his general appearance
gave an undue impression of age, for he had a
slight forward stoop and a little bend of the
knees as he walked. His hair, too, as he swept
off his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled
round the edges and thin upon the top. As to his
dress, it was careful to the verge of
foppishness, with high collar, black frock-coat,
white waistcoat, yellow gloves, patent-leather
shoes, and light-coloured gaiters. He advanced
slowly into the room, turning his head from left
to right, and swinging in his right hand the
cord which held his golden eyeglasses.
"Good-day, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes,
rising and bowing. "Pray take the basket-chair.
This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.
Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk
this matter over."
"A most painful matter to me, as you can most
readily imagine, Mr. Holmes. I have been cut to
the quick. I understand that you have already
managed several delicate cases of this sort,
sir, though I presume that they were hardly from
the same class of society."
"No, I am descending."
"I beg pardon."
"My last client of the sort was a king."
"Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?"
"The King of Scandinavia."
"What! Had he lost his wife?"
"You can understand," said Holmes suavely,
"that I extend to the affairs of my other
clients the same secrecy which I promise to you
in yours."
"Of course! Very right! very right! I`m sure
I beg pardon. As to my own case, I am ready to
give you any information which may assist you in
forming an opinion."
"Thank you. I have already learned all that
is in the public prints, nothing more. I presume
that I may take it as correct-- this article,
for example, as to the disappearance of the
bride."
Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is
correct, as far as it goes."
"But it needs a great deal of supplementing
before anyone could offer an opinion. I think
that I may arrive at my facts most directly by
questioning you."
"Pray do so."
"When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?"
"In San Francisco, a year ago."
"You were travelling in the States?"
"Yes."
"Did you become engaged then?"
"No."
"But you were on a friendly footing?"
"I was amused by her society, and she could
see that I was amused."
"Her father is very rich?"
"He is said to be the richest man on the
Pacific slope."
"And how did he make his money?"
"In mining. He had nothing a few years ago.
Then he struck gold, invested it, and came up by
leaps and bounds."
"Now, what is your own impression as to the
young lady`s--your wife`s character?"
The nobleman swung his glasses a little
faster and stared down into the fire. "You see,
Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was twenty before
her father became a rich man. During that time
she ran free in a mining camp and wandered
through woods or mountains, so that her
education has come from Nature rather than from
the schoolmaster. She is what we call in England
a tomboy, with a strong nature, wild and free,
unfettered by any sort of traditions. She is
impetuous--volcanic, I was about to say. She is
swift in making up her mind and fearless in
carrying out her resolutions. On the other hand,
I would not have given her the name which I have
the honour to bear"--he gave a little stately
cough--"had not I thought her to be at bottom a
noble woman. I believe that she is capable of
heroic self-sacrifice and that anything
dishonourable would be repugnant to her."
"Have you her photograph?"
"I brought this with me." He opened a locket
and showed us the full face of a very lovely
woman. It was not a photograph but an ivory
miniature, and the artist had brought out the
full effect of the lustrous black hair, the
large dark eyes, and the exquisite mouth. Holmes
gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he closed
the locket and handed it back to Lord St. Simon.
"The young lady came to London, then, and you
renewed your acquaintance?"
"Yes, her father brought her over for this
last London season. I met her several times,
became engaged to her, and have now married
her."
"She brought, I understand, a considerable
dowry?"
"A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my
family."
"And this, of course, remains to you, since
the marriage is a fait accompli?"
"I really have made no inquiries on the
subject."
"Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran
on the day before the wedding?"
"Yes."
"Was she in good spirits?"
"Never better. She kept talking of what we
should do in our future lives."
"Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the
morning of the wedding?"
"She was as bright as possible--at least
until after the ceremony."
"And did you observe any change in her then?"
"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the
first signs that I had ever seen that her temper
was just a little sharp. The incident however,
was too trivial to relate and can have no
possible bearing upon the case."
"Pray let us have it, for all that."
"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet
as we went towards the vestry. She was passing
the front pew at the time, and it fell over into
the pew. There was a moment`s delay, but the
gentleman in the pew handed it up to her again,
and it did not appear to be the worse for the
fall. Yet when I spoke to her of the matter, she
answered me abruptly; and in the carriage, on
our way home, she seemed absurdly agitated over
this trifling cause."
"Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman
in the pew. Some of the general public were
present, then?"
"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them
when the church is open."
"This gentleman was not one of your wife`s
friends?"
"No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy,
but he was quite a common-looking person. I
hardly noticed his appearance. But really I
think that we are wandering rather far from the
point."
"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the
wedding in a less cheerful frame of mind than
she had gone to it. What did she do on
re-entering her father`s house?"
"I saw her in conversation with her maid."
"And who is her maid?"
"Alice is her name. She is an American and
came from California with her."
"A confidential servant?"
"A little too much so. It seemed to me that
her mistress allowed her to take great
liberties. Still, of course, in America they
look upon these things in a different way."
"How long did she speak to this Alice?"
"Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to
think of."
"You did not overhear what they said?"
"Lady St. Simon said something about `jumping
a claim.` She was accustomed to use slang of the
kind. I have no idea what she meant."
"American slang is very expressive sometimes.
And what did your wife do when she finished
speaking to her maid?"
"She walked into the breakfast-room."
"On your arm?"
"No, alone. She was very independent in
little matters like that. Then, after we had sat
down for ten minutes or so, she rose hurriedly,
muttered some words of apology, and left the
room. She never came back."
"But this maid, Alice, as I understand,
deposes that she went to her room, covered her
bride`s dress with a long ulster, put on a
bonnet, and went out."
"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen
walking into Hyde Park in company with Flora
Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who
had already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran`s
house that morning."
"Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as
to this young lady, and your relations to her."
Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and
raised his eyebrows. "We have been on a friendly
footing for some years--I may say on a very
friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro.
I have not treated her ungenerously, and she had
no just cause of complaint against me, but you
know what women are, Mr. Holmes. Flora was a
dear little thing, but exceedingly hot-headed
and devotedly attached to me. She wrote me
dreadful letters when she heard that I was about
to be married, and, to tell the truth, the
reason why I had the marriage celebrated so
quietly was that I feared lest there might be a
scandal in the church. She came to Mr. Doran`s
door just after we returned, and she endeavoured
to push her way in, uttering very abusive
expressions towards my wife, and even
threatening her, but I had foreseen the
possibility of something of the sort, and I had
two police fellows there in private clothes, who
soon pushed her out again. She was quiet when
she saw that there was no good in making a row."
"Did your wife hear all this?"
"No, thank goodness, she did not."
"And she was seen walking with this very
woman afterwards?"
"Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland
Yard, looks upon as so serious. It is thought
that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid some
terrible trap for her."
"Well, it is a possible supposition."
"You think so, too?"
"I did not say a probable one. But you do not
yourself look upon this as likely?"
"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly."
"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of
characters. Pray what is your own theory as to
what took place?"
"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not
to propound one. I have given you all the facts.
Since you ask me, however, I may say that it has
occurred to me as possible that the excitement
of this affair, the consciousness that she had
made so immense a social stride, had the effect
of causing some little nervous disturbance in my
wife."
"In short, that she had become suddenly
deranged?"
"Well, really, when I consider that she has
turned her back--I will not say upon me, but
upon so much that many have aspired to without
success--I can hardly explain it in any other
fashion."
"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable
hypothesis," said Holmes, smiling. "And now,
Lord St. Simon, I think that I have nearly all
my data. May I ask whether you were seated at
the breakfast-table so that you could see out of
the window?"
"We could see the other side of the road and
the Park."
"Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to
detain you longer. I shall communicate with
you."
"Should you be fortunate enough to solve this
problem," said our client, rising.
"I have solved it."
"Eh? What was that?"
"I say that I have solved it."
"Where, then, is my wife?"
"That is a detail which I shall speedily
supply."
Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid
that it will take wiser heads than yours or
mine," he remarked, and bowing in a stately,
old-fashioned manner he departed.
"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour
my head by putting it on a level with his own,"
said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "I think that I
shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after
all this cross-questioning. I had formed my
conclusions as to the case before our client
came into the room."
"My dear Holmes!"
"I have notes of several similar cases,
though none, as I remarked before, which were
quite as prompt. My whole examination served to
turn my conjecture into a certainty.
Circumstantial evidence is occasionally very
convincing, as when you find a trout in the
milk, to quote Thoreau`s example."
"But I have heard all that you have heard."
"Without, however, the knowledge of
pre-existing cases which serves me so well.
There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some
years back, and something on very much the same
lines at Munich the year after the
Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these
cases--but, hullo, here is Lestrade!
Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra
tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are cigars
in the box."
The official detective was attired in a
pea-jacket and cravat, which gave him a
decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a
black canvas bag in his hand. With a short
greeting he seated himself and lit the cigar
which had been offered to him.
"What`s up, then?" asked Holmes with a
twinkle in his eye. "You look dissatisfied."
"And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal
St. Simon marriage case. I can make neither head
nor tail of the business."
"Really! You surprise me."
"Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every
clue seems to slip through my fingers. I have
been at work upon it all day."
"And very wet it seems to have made you,"
said Holmes laying his hand upon the arm of the
pea-jacket.
"Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine."
"In heaven`s name, what for?"
"In search of the body of Lady St. Simon."
Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and
laughed heartily.
"Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar
Square fountain?" he asked.
"Why? What do you mean?"
"Because you have just as good a chance of
finding this lady in the one as in the other."
Lestrade shot an angry glance at my
companion. "I suppose you know all about it," he
snarled.
"Well, I have only just heard the facts, but
my mind is made up."
"Oh, indeed! Then you think that the
Serpentine plays no part in the matter?"
"I think it very unlikely."
"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it
is that we found this in it?" He opened his bag
as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a
wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white
satin shoes and a bride`s wreath and veil, all
discoloured and soaked in water. "There," said
he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of
the pile. "There is a little nut for you to
crack, Master Holmes."
"Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue
rings into the air. "You dragged them from the
Serpentine?"
"No. They were found floating near the margin
by a park-keeper. They have been identified as
her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the
clothes were there the body would not be far
off."
"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man`s
body is to be found in the neighbourhood of his
wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to arrive
at through this?"
"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in
the disappearance."
"I am afraid that you will find it
difficult."
"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with
some bitterness. "I am afraid, Holmes, that you
are not very practical with your deductions and
your inferences. You have made two blunders in
as many minutes. This dress does implicate Miss
Flora Millar."
"And how?"
"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a
card-case. In the card-case is a note. And here
is the very note." He slapped it down upon the
table in front of him. "Listen to this: `You
will see me when all is ready. Come at once.
F.H.M.` Now my theory all along has been that
Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by Flora Millar,
and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was
responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed
with her initials, is the very note which was no
doubt quietly slipped into her hand at the door
and which lured her within their reach."
"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing.
"You really are very fine indeed. Let me see
it." He took up the paper in a listless way, but
his attention instantly became riveted, and he
gave a little cry of satisfaction. "This is
indeed important," said he.
"Ha! you find it so?"
"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly."
Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his
head to look. "Why," he shrieked, "you`re
looking at the wrong side!"
"On the contrary, this is the right side."
"The right side? You`re mad! Here is the note
written in pencil over here."
"And over here is what appears to be the
fragment of a hotel bill, which interests me
deeply."
"There`s nothing in it. I looked at it
before," said Lestrade. "`Oct. 4th, rooms 8s.,
breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s. 6d.,
glass sherry, 8d.` I see nothing in that."
"Very likely not. It is most important, all
the same. As to the note, it is important also,
or at least the initials are, so I congratulate
you again."
"I`ve wasted time enough," said Lestrade,
rising. "I believe in hard work and not in
sitting by the fire spinning fine theories.
Good-day, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which
gets to the bottom of the matter first." He
gathered up the garments, thrust them into the
bag, and made for the door.
"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled
Holmes before his rival vanished; "I will tell
you the true solution of the matter. Lady St.
Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never
has been, any such person."
Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then
he turned to me, tapped his forehead three
times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried
away.
He had hardly shut the door behind him when
Holmes rose to put on his overcoat. "There is
something in what the fellow says about outdoor
work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I
must leave you to your papers for a little."
It was after five o`clock when Sherlock
Holmes left me, but I had no time to be lonely,
for within an hour there arrived a
confectioner`s man with a very large flat box.
This he unpacked with the help of a youth whom
he had brought with him, and presently, to my
very great astonishment, a quite epicurean
little cold supper began to be laid out upon our
humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a
couple of brace of cold woodcock, a pheasant, a
pвґ© de foie gras pie with a group of ancient
and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these
luxuries, my two visitors vanished away, like
the genii of the Arabian Nights, with no
explanation save that the things had been paid
for and were ordered to this address.
Just before nine o`clock Sherlock Holmes
stepped briskly into the room. His features were
gravely set, but there was a light in his eye
which made me think that he had not been
disappointed in his conclusions.
"They have laid the supper, then," he said,
rubbing his hands.
"You seem to expect company. They have laid
for five."
"Yes, I fancy we may have some company
dropping in," said he. "I am surprised that Lord
St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I fancy
that I hear his step now upon the stairs."
It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon
who came bustling in, dangling his glasses more
vigorously than ever, and with a very perturbed
expression upon his aristocratic features.
"My messenger reached you, then?" asked
Holmes.
"Yes, and I confess that the contents
startled me beyond measure. Have you good
authority for what you say?"
"The best possible."
Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed
his hand over his forehead.
"What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when
he hears that one of the family has been
subjected to such humiliation?"
"It is the purest accident. I cannot allow
that there is any humiliation."
"Ah, you look on these things from another
standpoint."
"I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can
hardly see how the lady could have acted
otherwise, though her abrupt method of doing it
was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no
mother, she had no one to advise her at such a
crisis."
"It was a slight, sir, a public slight," said
Lord St. Simon, tapping his fingers upon the
table.
"You must make allowance for this poor girl,
placed in so unprecedented a position."
"I will make no allowance. I am very angry
indeed, and I have been shamefully used."
"I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes.
"Yes, there are steps on the landing. If I
cannot persuade you to take a lenient view of
the matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an
advocate here who may be more successful." He
opened the door and ushered in a lady and
gentleman. "Lord St. Simon," said he "allow me
to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay
Moulton. The lady, I think, you have already
met."
At the sight of these newcomers our client
had sprung from his seat and stood very erect,
with his eyes cast down and his hand thrust into
the breast of his frock-coat, a picture of
offended dignity. The lady had taken a quick
step forward and had held out her hand to him,
but he still refused to raise his eyes. It was
as well for his resolution, perhaps, for her
pleading face was one which it was hard to
resist.
"You`re angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I
guess you have every cause to be."
"Pray make no apology to me," said Lord St.
Simon bitterly.
"Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real
bad and that I should have spoken to you before
I went; but I was kind of rattled, and from the
time when I saw Frank here again I just didn`t
know what I was doing or saying. I only wonder I
didn`t fall down and do a faint right there
before the altar."
"Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my
friend and me to leave the room while you
explain this matter?"
"If I may give an opinion," remarked the
strange gentleman, "we`ve had just a little too
much secrecy over this business already. For my
part, I should like all Europe and America to
hear the rights of it." He was a small, wiry,
sunburnt man, clean-shaven, with a sharp face
and alert manner.
"Then I`ll tell our story right away," said
the lady. "Frank here and I met in `84, in
McQuire`s camp, near the Rockies, where pa was
working a claim. We were engaged to each other,
Frank and I; but then one day father struck a
rich pocket and made a pile, while poor Frank
here had a claim that petered out and came to
nothing. The richer pa grew the poorer was
Frank; so at last pa wouldn`t hear of our
engagement lasting any longer, and he took me
away to `Frisco. Frank wouldn`t throw up his
hand, though; so he followed me there, and he
saw me without pa knowing anything about it. It
would only have made him mad to know, so we just
fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that
he would go and make his pile, too, and never
come back to claim me until he had as much as
pa. So then I promised to wait for him to the
end of time and pledged myself not to marry
anyone else while he lived. `Why shouldn`t we be
married right away, then,` said he, `and then I
will feel sure of you; and I won`t claim to be
your husband until I come back?` Well, we talked
it over, and he had fixed it all up so nicely,
with a clergyman all ready in waiting, that we
just did it right there; and then Frank went off
to seek his fortune, and I went back to pa.
"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in
Montana, and then he went prospecting in
Arizona, and then I heard of him from New
Mexico. After that came a long newspaper story
about how a miners` camp had been attacked by
Apache Indians, and there was my Frank`s name
among the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was
very sick for months after. Pa thought I had a
decline and took me to half the doctors in
`Frisco. Not a word of news came for a year and
more, so that I never doubted that Frank was
really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to
`Frisco, and we came to London, and a marriage
was arranged, and pa was very pleased, but I
felt all the time that no man on this earth
would ever take the place in my heart that had
been given to my poor Frank.
"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of
course I`d have done my duty by him. We can`t
command our love, but we can our actions. I went
to the altar with him with the intention to make
him just as good a wife as it was in me to be.
But you may imagine what I felt when, just as I
came to the altar rails, I glanced back and saw
Frank standing and looking at me out of the
first pew. I thought it was his ghost at first;
but when I looked again there he was still, with
a kind of question in his eyes, as if to ask me
whether I were glad or sorry to see him. I
wonder I didn`t drop. I know that everything was
turning round, and the words of the clergyman
were just like the buzz of a bee in my ear. I
didn`t know what to do. Should I stop the
service and make a scene in the church? I
glanced at him again, and he seemed to know what
I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his
lips to tell me to be still. Then I saw him
scribble on a piece of paper, and I knew that he
was writing me a note. As I passed his pew on
the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him,
and he slipped the note into my hand when he
returned me the flowers. It was only a line
asking me to join him when he made the sign to
me to do so. Of course I never doubted for a
moment that my first duty was now to him, and I
determined to do just whatever he might direct.
"When I got back I told my maid, who had
known him in California, and had always been his
friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get
a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know
I ought to have spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it
was dreadful hard before his mother and all
those great people. I just made up my mind to
run away and explain afterwards. I hadn`t been
at the table ten minutes before I saw Frank out
of the window at the other side of the road. He
beckoned to me and then began walking into the
Park. I slipped out, put on my things, and
followed him. Some woman came talking something
or other about Lord St. Simon to me--seemed to
me from the little I heard as if he had a little
secret of his own before marriage also--but I
managed to get away from her and soon overtook
Frank. We got into a cab together, and away we
drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon
Square, and that was my true wedding after all
those years of waiting. Frank had been a
prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on
to `Frisco, found that I had given him up for
dead and had gone to England, followed me there,
and had come upon me at last on the very morning
of my second wedding."
"I saw it in a paper," explained the
American. "It gave the name and the church but
not where the lady lived."
"Then we had a talk as to what we should do,
and Frank was all for openness, but I was so
ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should
like to vanish away and never see any of them
again--just sending a line to pa, perhaps, to
show him that I was alive. It was awful to me to
think of all those lords and ladies sitting
round that breakfast-table and waiting for me to
come back. So Frank took my wedding-clothes and
things and made a bundle of them, so that I
should not be traced, and dropped them away
somewhere where no one could find them. It is
likely that we should have gone on to Paris
to-morrow, only that this good gentleman, Mr.
Holmes, came round to us this evening, though
how he found us is more than I can think, and he
showed us very clearly and kindly that I was
wrong and that Frank was right, and that we
should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we
were so secret. Then he offered to give us a
chance of talking to Lord St. Simon alone, and
so we came right away round to his rooms at
once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I
am very sorry if I have given you pain, and I
hope that you do not think very meanly of me."
Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his
rigid attitude, but had listened with a frowning
brow and a compressed lip to this long
narrative.
"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my
custom to discuss my most intimate personal
affairs in this public manner."
"Then you won`t forgive me? You won`t shake
hands before I go?"
"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any
pleasure." He put out his hand and coldly
grasped that which she extended to him.
"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you
would have joined us in a friendly supper."
"I think that there you ask a little too
much," responded his Lordship. "I may be forced
to acquiesce in these recent developments, but I
can hardly be expected to make merry over them.
I think that with your permission I will now
wish you all a very good-night." He included us
all in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the
room.
"Then I trust that you at least will honour
me with your company," said Sherlock Holmes. "It
is always a joy to meet an American, Mr.
Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that
the folly of a monarch and the blundering of a
minister in far-gone years will not prevent our
children from being some day citizens of the
same world-wide country under a flag which shall
be a quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars
and Stripes."
"The case has been an interesting one,"
remarked Holmes when our visitors had left us,
"because it serves to show very clearly how
simple the explanation may be of an affair which
at first sight seems to be almost inexplicable.
Nothing could be more natural than the sequence
of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing
stranger than the result when viewed, for
instance, by Mr. Lestrade of Scotland Yard."
"You were not yourself at fault at all,
then?"
"From the first, two facts were very obvious
to me, the one that the lady had been quite
willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the
other that she had repented of it within a few
minutes of returning home. Obviously something
had occurred during the morning, then, to cause
her to change her mind. What could that
something be? She could not have spoken to
anyone when she was out, for she had been in the
company of the bridegroom. Had she seen someone,
then? If she had, it must be someone from
America because she had spent so short a time in
this country that she could hardly have allowed
anyone to acquire so deep an influence over her
that the mere sight of him would induce her to
change her plans so completely. You see we have
already arrived, by a process of exclusion, at
the idea that she might have seen an American.
Then who could this American be, and why should
he possess so much influence over her? It might
be a lover; it might be a husband. Her young
womanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough
scenes and under strange conditions. So far I
had got before I ever heard Lord St. Simon`s
narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew, of
the change in the bride`s manner, of so
transparent a device for obtaining a note as the
dropping of a bouquet, of her resort to her
confidential maid, and of her very significant
allusion to claim-jumping--which in miners`
parlance means taking possession of that which
another person has a prior claim to--the whole
situation became absolutely clear. She had gone
off with a man, and the man was either a lover
or was a previous husband--the chances being in
favour of the latter."
"And how in the world did you find them?"
"It might have been difficult, but friend
Lestrade held information in his hands the value
of which he did not himself know. The initials
were, of course, of the highest importance, but
more valuable still was it to know that within a
week he had settled his bill at one of the most
select London hotels."
"How did you deduce the select?"
"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a
bed and eightpence for a glass of sherry pointed
to one of the most expensive hotels. There are
not many in London which charge at that rate. In
the second one which I visited in Northumberland
Avenue, I learned by an inspection of the book
that Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman,
had left only the day before, and on looking
over the entries against him, I came upon the
very items which I had seen in the duplicate
bill. His letters were to be forwarded to 226
Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and being
fortunate enough to find the loving couple at
home, I ventured to give them some paternal
advice and to point out to them that it would be
better in every way that they should make their
position a little clearer both to the general
public and to Lord St. Simon in particular. I
invited them to meet him here, and, as you see,
I made him keep the appointment."
"But with no very good result," I remarked.
"His conduct was certainly not very gracious."
"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps
you would not be very gracious either, if, after
all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you found
yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of
fortune. I think that we may judge Lord St.
Simon very mercifully and thank our stars that
we are never likely to find ourselves in the
same position. Draw your chair up and hand me my
violin, for the only problem we have still to
solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal
evenings."
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THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL
CORONET
"Holmes," said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down
the street, "here is a madman coming along. It
seems rather sad that his relatives should allow
him to come out alone."
My friend rose lazily from his armchair and
stood with his hands in the pockets of his
dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was
a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow
of the day before still lay deep upon the
ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun.
Down the centre of Baker Street it had been
ploughed into a brown crumbly band by the
traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up
edges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as
when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned
and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery,
so that there were fewer passengers than usual.
Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan
Station no one was coming save the single
gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my
attention.
He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly,
and imposing, with a massive, strongly marked
face and a commanding figure. He was dressed in
a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat,
shining hat, neat brown gaiters, and well-cut
pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were in
absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and
features, for he was running hard, with
occasional little springs, such as a weary man
gives who is little accustomed to set any tax
upon his legs. As he ran he jerked his hands up
and down, waggled his head, and writhed his face
into the most extraordinary contortions.
"What on earth can be the matter with him?" I
asked. "He is looking up at the numbers of the
houses."
"I believe that he is coming here," said
Holmes, rubbing his hands.
"Here?"
"Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult
me professionally. I think that I recognise the
symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you?" As he spoke,
the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door
and pulled at our bell until the whole house
resounded with the clanging.
A few moments later he was in our room, still
puffing, still gesticulating, but with so fixed
a look of grief and despair in his eyes that our
smiles were turned in an instant to horror and
pity. For a while he could not get his words
out, but swayed his body and plucked at his hair
like one who has been driven to the extreme
limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing
to his feet, he beat his head against the wall
with such force that we both rushed upon him and
tore him away to the centre of the room.
Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the
easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted his
hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing
tones which he knew so well how to employ.
"You have come to me to tell your story, have
you not?" said he. "You are fatigued with your
haste. Pray wait until you have recovered
yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look
into any little problem which you may submit to
me."
The man sat for a minute or more with a
heaving chest, fighting against his emotion.
Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow,
set his lips tight, and turned his face towards
us.
"No doubt you think me mad?" said he.
"I see that you have had some great trouble,"
responded Holmes.
"God knows I have!--a trouble which is enough
to unseat my reason, so sudden and so terrible
is it. Public disgrace I might have faced,
although I am a man whose character has never
yet borne a stain. Private affliction also is
the lot of every man; but the two coming
together, and in so frightful a form, have been
enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not
I alone. The very noblest in the land may suffer
unless some way be found out of this horrible
affair."
"Pray compose yourself, sir," said Holmes,
"and let me have a clear account of who you are
and what it is that has befallen you."
"My name," answered our visitor, "is probably
familiar to your ears. I am Alexander Holder, of
the banking firm of Holder & Stevenson, of
Threadneedle Street."
The name was indeed well known to us as
belonging to the senior partner in the second
largest private banking concern in the City of
London. What could have happened, then, to bring
one of the foremost citizens of London to this
most pitiable pass? We waited, all curiosity,
until with another effort he braced himself to
tell his story.
"I feel that time is of value," said he;
"that is why I hastened here when the police
inspector suggested that I should secure your
co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the
Underground and hurried from there on foot, for
the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is
why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who
takes very little exercise. I feel better now,
and I will put the facts before you as shortly
and yet as clearly as I can.
"It is, of course, well known to you that in
a successful banking business as much depends
upon our being able to find remunerative
investments for our funds as upon our increasing
our connection and the number of our depositors.
One of our most lucrative means of laying out
money is in the shape of loans, where the
security is unimpeachable. We have done a good
deal in this direction during the last few
years, and there are many noble families to whom
we have advanced large sums upon the security of
their pictures, libraries, or plate.
"Yesterday morning I was seated in my office
at the bank when a card was brought in to me by
one of the clerks. I started when I saw the
name, for it was that of none other than--well,
perhaps even to you I had better say no more
than that it was a name which is a household
word all over the earth--one of the highest,
noblest, most exalted names in England. I was
overwhelmed by the honour and attempted, when he
entered, to say so, but he plunged at once into
business with the air of a man who wishes to
hurry quickly through a disagreeable task.
"`Mr. Holder,` said he, `I have been informed
that you are in the habit of advancing money.`
"`The firm does so when the security is
good.` I answered.
"`It is absolutely essential to me,` said he,
`that I should have 50,000 pounds at once. I
could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten
times over from my friends, but I much prefer to
make it a matter of business and to carry out
that business myself. In my position you can
readily understand that it is unwise to place
one`s self under obligations.`
"`For how long, may I ask, do you want this
sum?` I asked.
"`Next Monday I have a large sum due to me,
and I shall then most certainly repay what you
advance, with whatever interest you think it
right to charge. But it is very essential to me
that the money should be paid at once.`
"`I should be happy to advance it without
further parley from my own private purse,` said
I, `were it not that the strain would be rather
more than it could bear. If, on the other hand,
I am to do it in the name of the firm, then in
justice to my partner I must insist that, even
in your case, every businesslike precaution
should be taken.`
"`I should much prefer to have it so,` said
he, raising up a square, black morocco case
which he had laid beside his chair. `You have
doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet?`
"`One of the most precious public possessions
of the empire,` said I.
"`Precisely.` He opened the case, and there,
imbedded in soft, flesh-coloured velvet, lay the
magnificent piece of jewellery which he had
named. `There are thirty-nine enormous beryls,`
said he, `and the price of the gold chasing is
incalculable. The lowest estimate would put the
worth of the coronet at double the sum which I
have asked. I am prepared to leave it with you
as my security.`
"I took the precious case into my hands and
looked in some perplexity from it to my
illustrious client.
"`You doubt its value?` he asked.
"`Not at all. I only doubt--`
"`The propriety of my leaving it. You may set
your mind at rest about that. I should not dream
of doing so were it not absolutely certain that
I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It
is a pure matter of form. Is the security
sufficient?`
"`Ample.`
"`You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am
giving you a strong proof of the confidence
which I have in you, founded upon all that I
have heard of you. I rely upon you not only to
be discreet and to refrain from all gossip upon
the matter but, above all, to preserve this
coronet with every possible precaution because I
need not say that a great public scandal would
be caused if any harm were to befall it. Any
injury to it would be almost as serious as its
complete loss, for there are no beryls in the
world to match these, and it would be impossible
to replace them. I leave it with you, however,
with every confidence, and I shall call for it
in person on Monday morning.`
"Seeing that my client was anxious to leave,
I said no more but, calling for my cashier, I
ordered him to pay over fifty 1000 pound notes.
When I was alone once more, however, with the
precious case lying upon the table in front of
me, I could not but think with some misgivings
of the immense responsibility which it entailed
upon me. There could be no doubt that, as it was
a national possession, a horrible scandal would
ensue if any misfortune should occur to it. I
already regretted having ever consented to take
charge of it. However, it was too late to alter
the matter now, so I locked it up in my private
safe and turned once more to my work.
"When evening came I felt that it would be an
imprudence to leave so precious a thing in the
office behind me. Bankers` safes had been forced
before now, and why should not mine be? If so,
how terrible would be the position in which I
should find myself! I determined, therefore,
that for the next few days I would always carry
the case backward and forward with me, so that
it might never be really out of my reach. With
this intention, I called a cab and drove out to
my house at Streatham, carrying the jewel with
me. I did not breathe freely until I had taken
it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of my
dressing-room.
"And now a word as to my household, Mr.
Holmes, for I wish you to thoroughly understand
the situation. My groom and my page sleep out of
the house, and may be set aside altogether. I
have three maid-servants who have been with me a
number of years and whose absolute reliability
is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy Parr,
the second waiting-maid, has only been in my
service a few months. She came with an excellent
character, however, and has always given me
satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has
attracted admirers who have occasionally hung
about the place. That is the only drawback which
we have found to her, but we believe her to be a
thoroughly good girl in every way.
"So much for the servants. My family itself
is so small that it will not take me long to
describe it. I am a widower and have an only
son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me,
Mr. Holmes--a grievous disappointment. I have no
doubt that I am myself to blame. People tell me
that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have.
When my dear wife died I felt that he was all I
had to love. I could not bear to see the smile
fade even for a moment from his face. I have
never denied him a wish. Perhaps it would have
been better for both of us had I been sterner,
but I meant it for the best.
"It was naturally my intention that he should
succeed me in my business, but he was not of a
business turn. He was wild, wayward, and, to
speak the truth, I could not trust him in the
handling of large sums of money. When he was
young he became a member of an aristocratic
club, and there, having charming manners, he was
soon the intimate of a number of men with long
purses and expensive habits. He learned to play
heavily at cards and to squander money on the
turf, until he had again and again to come to me
and implore me to give him an advance upon his
allowance, that he might settle his debts of
honour. He tried more than once to break away
from the dangerous company which he was keeping,
but each time the influence of his friend, Sir
George Burnwell, was enough to draw him back
again.
"And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a
man as Sir George Burnwell should gain an
influence over him, for he has frequently
brought him to my house, and I have found myself
that I could hardly resist the fascination of
his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man of
the world to his finger-tips, one who had been
everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker,
and a man of great personal beauty. Yet when I
think of him in cold blood, far away from the
glamour of his presence, I am convinced from his
cynical speech and the look which I have caught
in his eyes that he is one who should be deeply
distrusted. So I think, and so, too, thinks my
little Mary, who has a woman`s quick insight
into character.
"And now there is only she to be described.
She is my niece; but when my brother died five
years ago and left her alone in the world I
adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since
as my daughter. She is a sunbeam in my
house--sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful
manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet
and gentle as a woman could be. She is my right
hand. I do not know what I could do without her.
In only one matter has she ever gone against my
wishes. Twice my boy has asked her to marry him,
for he loves her devotedly, but each time she
has refused him. I think that if anyone could
have drawn him into the right path it would have
been she, and that his marriage might have
changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too
late--forever too late!
"Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who
live under my roof, and I shall continue with my
miserable story.
"When we were taking coffee in the
drawing-room that night after dinner, I told
Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the
precious treasure which we had under our roof,
suppressing only the name of my client. Lucy
Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am
sure, left the room; but I cannot swear that the
door was closed. Mary and Arthur were much
interested and wished to see the famous coronet,
but I thought it better not to disturb it.
"`Where have you put it?` asked Arthur.
"`In my own bureau.`
"`Well, I hope to goodness the house won`t be
burgled during the night.` said he.
"`It is locked up,` I answered.
"`Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When
I was a youngster I have opened it myself with
the key of the box-room cupboard.`
"He often had a wild way of talking, so that
I thought little of what he said. He followed me
to my room, however, that night with a very
grave face.
"`Look here, dad,` said he with his eyes cast
down, `can you let me have 200 pounds?`
"`No, I cannot!` I answered sharply. `I have
been far too generous with you in money
matters.`
"`You have been very kind,` said he, `but I
must have this money, or else I can never show
my face inside the club again.`
"`And a very good thing, too!` I cried.
"`Yes, but you would not have me leave it a
dishonoured man,` said he. `I could not bear the
disgrace. I must raise the money in some way,
and if you will not let me have it, then I must
try other means.`
"I was very angry, for this was the third
demand during the month. `You shall not have a
farthing from me,` I cried, on which he bowed
and left the room without another word.
"When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made
sure that my treasure was safe, and locked it
again. Then I started to go round the house to
see that all was secure--a duty which I usually
leave to Mary but which I thought it well to
perform myself that night. As I came down the
stairs I saw Mary herself at the side window of
the hall, which she closed and fastened as I
approached.
"`Tell me, dad,` said she, looking, I
thought, a little disturbed, `did you give Lucy,
the maid, leave to go out to-night?`
"`Certainly not.`
"`She came in just now by the back door. I
have no doubt that she has only been to the side
gate to see someone, but I think that it is
hardly safe and should be stopped.`
"`You must speak to her in the morning, or I
will if you prefer it. Are you sure that
everything is fastened?`
"`Quite sure, dad.`
"`Then, good-night.` I kissed her and went up
to my bedroom again, where I was soon asleep.
"I am endeavouring to tell you everything,
Mr. Holmes, which may have any bearing upon the
case, but I beg that you will question me upon
any point which I do not make clear."
"On the contrary, your statement is
singularly lucid."
"I come to a part of my story now in which I
should wish to be particularly so. I am not a
very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety in my mind
tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than
usual. About two in the morning, then, I was
awakened by some sound in the house. It had
ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an
impression behind it as though a window had
gently closed somewhere. I lay listening with
all my ears. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a
distinct sound of footsteps moving softly in the
next room. I slipped out of bed, all palpitating
with fear, and peeped round the corner of my
dressing-room door.
"`Arthur!` I screamed, `you villain! you
thief! How dare you touch that coronet?`
"The gas was half up, as I had left it, and
my unhappy boy, dressed only in his shirt and
trousers, was standing beside the light, holding
the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be
wrenching at it, or bending it with all his
strength. At my cry he dropped it from his grasp
and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up
and examined it. One of the gold corners, with
three of the beryls in it, was missing.
"`You blackguard!` I shouted, beside myself
with rage. `You have destroyed it! You have
dishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels
which you have stolen?`
"`Stolen!` he cried.
"`Yes, thief!` I roared, shaking him by the
shoulder.
"`There are none missing. There cannot be any
missing,` said he.
"`There are three missing. And you know where
they are. Must I call you a liar as well as a
thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off
another piece?`
"`You have called me names enough,` said he,
`I will not stand it any longer. I shall not say
another word about this business, since you have
chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in
the morning and make my own way in the world.`
"`You shall leave it in the hands of the
police!` I cried half-mad with grief and rage.
`I shall have this matter probed to the bottom.`
"`You shall learn nothing from me,` said he
with a passion such as I should not have thought
was in his nature. `If you choose to call the
police, let the police find what they can.`
"By this time the whole house was astir, for
I had raised my voice in my anger. Mary was the
first to rush into my room, and, at the sight of
the coronet and of Arthur`s face, she read the
whole story and, with a scream, fell down
senseless on the ground. I sent the house-maid
for the police and put the investigation into
their hands at once. When the inspector and a
constable entered the house, Arthur, who had
stood sullenly with his arms folded, asked me
whether it was my intention to charge him with
theft. I answered that it had ceased to be a
private matter, but had become a public one,
since the ruined coronet was national property.
I was determined that the law should have its
way in everything.
"`At least,` said he, `you will not have me
arrested at once. It would be to your advantage
as well as mine if I might leave the house for
five minutes.`
"`That you may get away, or perhaps that you
may conceal what you have stolen,` said I. And
then, realising the dreadful position in which I
was placed, I implored him to remember that not
only my honour but that of one who was far
greater than I was at stake; and that he
threatened to raise a scandal which would
convulse the nation. He might avert it all if he
would but tell me what he had done with the
three missing stones.
"`You may as well face the matter,` said I;
`you have been caught in the act, and no
confession could make your guilt more heinous.
If you but make such reparation as is in your
power, by telling us where the beryls are, all
shall be forgiven and forgotten.`
"`Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for
it,` he answered, turning away from me with a
sneer. I saw that he was too hardened for any
words of mine to influence him. There was but
one way for it. I called in the inspector and
gave him into custody. A search was made at once
not only of his person but of his room and of
every portion of the house where he could
possibly have concealed the gems; but no trace
of them could be found, nor would the wretched
boy open his mouth for all our persuasions and
our threats. This morning he was removed to a
cell, and I, after going through all the police
formalities, have hurried round to you to
implore you to use your skill in unravelling the
matter. The police have openly confessed that
they can at present make nothing of it. You may
go to any expense which you think necessary. I
have already offered a reward of 1000 pounds. My
God, what shall I do! I have lost my honour, my
gems, and my son in one night. Oh, what shall I
do!"
He put a hand on either side of his head and
rocked himself to and fro, droning to himself
like a child whose grief has got beyond words.
Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few
minutes, with his brows knitted and his eyes
fixed upon the fire.
"Do you receive much company?" he asked.
"None save my partner with his family and an
occasional friend of Arthur`s. Sir George
Burnwell has been several times lately. No one
else, I think."
"Do you go out much in society?"
"Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We
neither of us care for it."
"That is unusual in a young girl."
"She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is
not so very young. She is four-and-twenty."
"This matter, from what you say, seems to
have been a shock to her also."
"Terrible! She is even more affected than I."
"You have neither of you any doubt as to your
son`s guilt?"
"How can we have when I saw him with my own
eyes with the coronet in his hands."
"I hardly consider that a conclusive proof.
Was the remainder of the coronet at all
injured?"
"Yes, it was twisted."
"Do you not think, then, that he might have
been trying to straighten it?"
"God bless you! You are doing what you can
for him and for me. But it is too heavy a task.
What was he doing there at all? If his purpose
were innocent, why did he not say so?"
"Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he
not invent a lie? His silence appears to me to
cut both ways. There are several singular points
about the case. What did the police think of the
noise which awoke you from your sleep?"
"They considered that it might be caused by
Arthur`s closing his bedroom door."
"A likely story! As if a man bent on felony
would slam his door so as to wake a household.
What did they say, then, of the disappearance of
these gems?"
"They are still sounding the planking and
probing the furniture in the hope of finding
them."
"Have they thought of looking outside the
house?"
"Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy.
The whole garden has already been minutely
examined."
"Now, my dear sir," said Holmes. "is it not
obvious to you now that this matter really
strikes very much deeper than either you or the
police were at first inclined to think? It
appeared to you to be a simple case; to me it
seems exceedingly complex. Consider what is
involved by your theory. You suppose that your
son came down from his bed, went, at great risk,
to your dressing-room, opened your bureau, took
out your coronet, broke off by main force a
small portion of it, went off to some other
place, concealed three gems out of the
thirty-nine, with such skill that nobody can
find them, and then returned with the other
thirty-six into the room in which he exposed
himself to the greatest danger of being
discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory
tenable?"
"But what other is there?" cried the banker
with a gesture of despair. "If his motives were
innocent, why does he not explain them?"
"It is our task to find that out," replied
Holmes; "so now, if you please, Mr. Holder, we
will set off for Streatham together, and devote
an hour to glancing a little more closely into
details."
My friend insisted upon my accompanying them
in their expedition, which I was eager enough to
do, for my curiosity and sympathy were deeply
stirred by the story to which we had listened. I
confess that the guilt of the banker`s son
appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his
unhappy father, but still I had such faith in
Holmes` judgment that I felt that there must be
some grounds for hope as long as he was
dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He
hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the
southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his
breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in
the deepest thought. Our client appeared to have
taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope
which had been presented to him, and he even
broke into a desultory chat with me over his
business affairs. A short railway journey and a
shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest
residence of the great financier.
Fairbank was a good-sized square house of
white stone, standing back a little from the
road. A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-clad
lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron
gates which closed the entrance. On the right
side was a small wooden thicket, which led into
a narrow path between two neat hedges stretching
from the road to the kitchen door, and forming
the tradesmen`s entrance. On the left ran a lane
which led to the stables, and was not itself
within the grounds at all, being a public,
though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us
standing at the door and walked slowly all round
the house, across the front, down the
tradesmen`s path, and so round by the garden
behind into the stable lane. So long was he that
Mr. Holder and I went into the dining-room and
waited by the fire until he should return. We
were sitting there in silence when the door
opened and a young lady came in. She was rather
above the middle height, slim, with dark hair
and eyes, which seemed the darker against the
absolute pallor of her skin. I do not think that
I have ever seen such deadly paleness in a
woman`s face. Her lips, too, were bloodless, but
her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept
silently into the room she impressed me with a
greater sense of grief than the banker had done
in the morning, and it was the more striking in
her as she was evidently a woman of strong
character, with immense capacity for
self-restraint. Disregarding my presence, she
went straight to her uncle and passed her hand
over his head with a sweet womanly caress.
"You have given orders that Arthur should be
liberated, have you not, dad?" she asked.
"No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed
to the bottom."
"But I am so sure that he is innocent. You
know what woman`s instincts are. I know that he
has done no harm and that you will be sorry for
having acted so harshly."
"Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent?"
"Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry
that you should suspect him."
"How could I help suspecting him, when I
actually saw him with the coronet in his hand?"
"Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at
it. Oh, do, do take my word for it that he is
innocent. Let the matter drop and say no more.
It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in
prison!"
"I shall never let it drop until the gems are
found--never, Mary! Your affection for Arthur
blinds you as to the awful consequences to me.
Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a
gentleman down from London to inquire more
deeply into it."
"This gentleman?" she asked, facing round to
me.
"No, his friend. He wished us to leave him
alone. He is round in the stable lane now."
"The stable lane?" She raised her dark
eyebrows. "What can he hope to find there? Ah!
this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, that you
will succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the
truth, that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this
crime."
"I fully share your opinion, and I trust,
with you, that we may prove it," returned
Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the snow
from his shoes. "I believe I have the honour of
addressing Miss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a
question or two?"
"Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this
horrible affair up."
"You heard nothing yourself last night?"
"Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak
loudly. I heard that, and I came down."
"You shut up the windows and doors the night
before. Did you fasten all the windows?"
"Yes."
"Were they all fastened this morning?"
"Yes."
"You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I
think that you remarked to your uncle last night
that she had been out to see him?"
"Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the
drawing-room, and who may have heard uncle`s
remarks about the coronet."
"I see. You infer that she may have gone out
to tell her sweetheart, and that the two may
have planned the robbery."
"But what is the good of all these vague
theories," cried the banker impatiently, "when I
have told you that I saw Arthur with the coronet
in his hands?"
"Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back
to that. About this girl, Miss Holder. You saw
her return by the kitchen door, I presume?"
"Yes; when I went to see if the door was
fastened for the night I met her slipping in. I
saw the man, too, in the gloom."
"Do you know him?"
"Oh, yes! he is the green-grocer who brings
our vegetables round. His name is Francis
Prosper."
"He stood," said Holmes, "to the left of the
door--that is to say, farther up the path than
is necessary to reach the door?"
"Yes, he did."
"And he is a man with a wooden leg?"
Something like fear sprang up in the young
lady`s expressive black eyes. "Why, you are like
a magician," said she. "How do you know that?"
She smiled, but there was no answering smile in
Holmes` thin, eager face.
"I should be very glad now to go upstairs,"
said he. "I shall probably wish to go over the
outside of the house again. Perhaps I had better
take a look at the lower windows before I go
up."
He walked swiftly round from one to the
other, pausing only at the large one which
looked from the hall onto the stable lane. This
he opened and made a very careful examination of
the sill with his powerful magnifying lens. "Now
we shall go upstairs," said he at last.
The banker`s dressing-room was a plainly
furnished little chamber, with a grey carpet, a
large bureau, and a long mirror. Holmes went to
the bureau first and looked hard at the lock.
"Which key was used to open it?" he asked.
"That which my son himself indicated--that of
the cupboard of the lumber-room."
"Have you it here?"
"That is it on the dressing-table."
Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the
bureau.
"It is a noiseless lock," said he. "It is no
wonder that it did not wake you. This case, I
presume, contains the coronet. We must have a
look at it." He opened the case, and taking out
the diadem he laid it upon the table. It was a
magnificent specimen of the jeweller`s art, and
the thirty-six stones were the finest that I
have ever seen. At one side of the coronet was a
cracked edge, where a corner holding three gems
had been torn away.
"Now, Mr. Holder," said Holmes, "here is the
corner which corresponds to that which has been
so unfortunately lost. Might I beg that you will
break it off."
The banker recoiled in horror. "I should not
dream of trying," said he.
"Then I will." Holmes suddenly bent his
strength upon it, but without result. "I feel it
give a little," said he; "but, though I am
exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would
take me all my time to break it. An ordinary man
could not do it. Now, what do you think would
happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There
would be a noise like a pistol shot. Do you tell
me that all this happened within a few yards of
your bed and that you heard nothing of it?"
"I do not know what to think. It is all dark
to me."
"But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go.
What do you think, Miss Holder?"
"I confess that I still share my uncle`s
perplexity."
"Your son had no shoes or slippers on when
you saw him?"
"He had nothing on save only his trousers and
shirt."
"Thank you. We have certainly been favoured
with extraordinary luck during this inquiry, and
it will be entirely our own fault if we do not
succeed in clearing the matter up. With your
permission, Mr. Holder, I shall now continue my
investigations outside."
He went alone, at his own request, for he
explained that any unnecessary footmarks might
make his task more difficult. For an hour or
more he was at work, returning at last with his
feet heavy with snow and his features as
inscrutable as ever.
"I think that I have seen now all that there
is to see, Mr. Holder," said he; "I can serve
you best by returning to my rooms."
"But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they?"
"I cannot tell."
The banker wrung his hands. "I shall never
see them again!" he cried. "And my son? You give
me hopes?"
"My opinion is in no way altered."
"Then, for God`s sake, what was this dark
business which was acted in my house last
night?"
"If you can call upon me at my Baker Street
rooms to-morrow morning between nine and ten I
shall be happy to do what I can to make it
clearer. I understand that you give me carte
blanche to act for you, provided only that I get
back the gems, and that you place no limit on
the sum I may draw."
"I would give my fortune to have them back."
"Very good. I shall look into the matter
between this and then. Good-bye; it is just
possible that I may have to come over here again
before evening."
It was obvious to me that my companion`s mind
was now made up about the case, although what
his conclusions were was more than I could even
dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward
journey I endeavoured to sound him upon the
point, but he always glided away to some other
topic, until at last I gave it over in despair.
It was not yet three when we found ourselves in
our rooms once more. He hurried to his chamber
and was down again in a few minutes dressed as a
common loafer. With his collar turned up, his
shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn
boots, he was a perfect sample of the class.
"I think that this should do," said he,
glancing into the glass above the fireplace. "I
only wish that you could come with me, Watson,
but I fear that it won`t do. I may be on the
trail in this matter, or I may be following a
will-o`-the-wisp, but I shall soon know which it
is. I hope that I may be back in a few hours."
He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the
sideboard, sandwiched it between two rounds of
bread, and thrusting this rude meal into his
pocket he started off upon his expedition.
I had just finished my tea when he returned,
evidently in excellent spirits, swinging an old
elastic-sided boot in his hand. He chucked it
down into a corner and helped himself to a cup
of tea.
"I only looked in as I passed," said he. "I
am going right on."
"Where to?"
"Oh, to the other side of the West End. It
may be some time before I get back. Don`t wait
up for me in case I should be late."
"How are you getting on?"
"Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have
been out to Streatham since I saw you last, but
I did not call at the house. It is a very sweet
little problem, and I would not have missed it
for a good deal. However, I must not sit
gossiping here, but must get these disreputable
clothes off and return to my highly respectable
self."
I could see by his manner that he had
stronger reasons for satisfaction than his words
alone would imply. His eyes twinkled, and there
was even a touch of colour upon his sallow
cheeks. He hastened upstairs, and a few minutes
later I heard the slam of the hall door, which
told me that he was off once more upon his
congenial hunt.
I waited until midnight, but there was no
sign of his return, so I retired to my room. It
was no uncommon thing for him to be away for
days and nights on end when he was hot upon a
scent, so that his lateness caused me no
surprise. I do not know at what hour he came in,
but when I came down to breakfast in the morning
there he was with a cup of coffee in one hand
and the paper in the other, as fresh and trim as
possible.
"You will excuse my beginning without you,
Watson," said he, "but you remember that our
client has rather an early appointment this
morning."
"Why, it is after nine now," I answered. "I
should not be surprised if that were he. I
thought I heard a ring."
It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I
was shocked by the change which had come over
him, for his face which was naturally of a broad
and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen
in, while his hair seemed to me at least a shade
whiter. He entered with a weariness and lethargy
which was even more painful than his violence of
the morning before, and he dropped heavily into
the armchair which I pushed forward for him.
"I do not know what I have done to be so
severely tried," said he. "Only two days ago I
was a happy and prosperous man, without a care
in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and
dishonoured age. One sorrow comes close upon the
heels of another. My niece, Mary, has deserted
me."
"Deserted you?"
"Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept
in, her room was empty, and a note for me lay
upon the hall table. I had said to her last
night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she
had married my boy all might have been well with
him. Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to say so.
It is to that remark that she refers in this
note:
"`MY DEAREST UNCLE:--I feel that I have
brought trouble upon you, and that if I had
acted differently this terrible misfortune might
never have occurred. I cannot, with this thought
in my mind, ever again be happy under your roof,
and I feel that I must leave you forever. Do not
worry about my future, for that is provided for;
and, above all, do not search for me, for it
will be fruitless labour and an ill-service to
me. In life or in death, I am ever your
loving,--MARY.`
"What could she mean by that note, Mr.
Holmes? Do you think it points to suicide?"
"No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps
the best possible solution. I trust, Mr. Holder,
that you are nearing the end of your troubles."
"Ha! You say so! You have heard something,
Mr. Holmes; you have learned something! Where
are the gems?"
"You would not think 1000 pounds apiece an
excessive sum for them?"
"I would pay ten."
"That would be unnecessary. Three thousand
will cover the matter. And there is a little
reward, I fancy. Have you your check-book? Here
is a pen. Better make it out for 4000 pounds."
With a dazed face the banker made out the
required check. Holmes walked over to his desk,
took out a little triangular piece of gold with
three gems in it, and threw it down upon the
table.
With a shriek of joy our client clutched it
up.
"You have it!" he gasped. "I am saved! I am
saved!"
The reaction of joy was as passionate as his
grief had been, and he hugged his recovered gems
to his bosom.
"There is one other thing you owe, Mr.
Holder," said Sherlock Holmes rather sternly.
"Owe!" He caught up a pen. "Name the sum, and
I will pay it."
"No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very
humble apology to that noble lad, your son, who
has carried himself in this matter as I should
be proud to see my own son do, should I ever
chance to have one."
"Then it was not Arthur who took them?"
"I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day,
that it was not."
"You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him
at once to let him know that the truth is
known."
"He knows it already. When I had cleared it
all up I had an interview with him, and finding
that he would not tell me the story, I told it
to him, on which he had to confess that I was
right and to add the very few details which were
not yet quite clear to me. Your news of this
morning, however, may open his lips."
"For heaven`s sake, tell me, then, what is
this extraordinary mystery!"
"I will do so, and I will show you the steps
by which I reached it. And let me say to you,
first, that which it is hardest for me to say
and for you to hear: there has been an
understanding between Sir George Burnwell and
your niece Mary. They have now fled together."
"My Mary? Impossible!"
"It is unfortunately more than possible; it
is certain. Neither you nor your son knew the
true character of this man when you admitted him
into your family circle. He is one of the most
dangerous men in England--a ruined gambler, an
absolutely desperate villain, a man without
heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of
such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as
he had done to a hundred before her, she
flattered herself that she alone had touched his
heart. The devil knows best what he said, but at
least she became his tool and was in the habit
of seeing him nearly every evening."
"I cannot, and I will not, believe it!" cried
the banker with an ashen face.
"I will tell you, then, what occurred in your
house last night. Your niece, when you had, as
she thought, gone to your room, slipped down and
talked to her lover through the window which
leads into the stable lane. His footmarks had
pressed right through the snow, so long had he
stood there. She told him of the coronet. His
wicked lust for gold kindled at the news, and he
bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she
loved you, but there are women in whom the love
of a lover extinguishes all other loves, and I
think that she must have been one. She had
hardly listened to his instructions when she saw
you coming downstairs, on which she closed the
window rapidly and told you about one of the
servants` escapade with her wooden-legged lover,
which was all perfectly true.
"Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his
interview with you but he slept badly on account
of his uneasiness about his club debts. In the
middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass
his door, so he rose and, looking out, was
surprised to see his cousin walking very
stealthily along the passage until she
disappeared into your dressing-room. Petrified
with astonishment, the lad slipped on some
clothes and waited there in the dark to see what
would come of this strange affair. Presently she
emerged from the room again, and in the light of
the passage-lamp your son saw that she carried
the precious coronet in her hands. She passed
down the stairs, and he, thrilling with horror,
ran along and slipped behind the curtain near
your door, whence he could see what passed in
the hall beneath. He saw her stealthily open the
window, hand out the coronet to someone in the
gloom, and then closing it once more hurry back
to her room, passing quite close to where he
stood hid behind the curtain.
"As long as she was on the scene he could not
take any action without a horrible exposure of
the woman whom he loved. But the instant that
she was gone he realised how crushing a
misfortune this would be for you, and how
all-important it was to set it right. He rushed
down, just as he was, in his bare feet, opened
the window, sprang out into the snow, and ran
down the lane, where he could see a dark figure
in the moonlight. Sir George Burnwell tried to
get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was a
struggle between them, your lad tugging at one
side of the coronet, and his opponent at the
other. In the scuffle, your son struck Sir
George and cut him over the eye. Then something
suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he
had the coronet in his hands, rushed back,
closed the window, ascended to your room, and
had just observed that the coronet had been
twisted in the struggle and was endeavouring to
straighten it when you appeared upon the scene."
"Is it possible?" gasped the banker.
"You then roused his anger by calling him
names at a moment when he felt that he had
deserved your warmest thanks. He could not
explain the true state of affairs without
betraying one who certainly deserved little
enough consideration at his hands. He took the
more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her
secret."
"And that was why she shrieked and fainted
when she saw the coronet," cried Mr. Holder.
"Oh, my God! what a blind fool I have been! And
his asking to be allowed to go out for five
minutes! The dear fellow wanted to see if the
missing piece were at the scene of the struggle.
How cruelly I have misjudged him!"
"When I arrived at the house," continued
Holmes, "I at once went very carefully round it
to observe if there were any traces in the snow
which might help me. I knew that none had fallen
since the evening before, and also that there
had been a strong frost to preserve impressions.
I passed along the tradesmen`s path, but found
it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just
beyond it, however, at the far side of the
kitchen door, a woman had stood and talked with
a man, whose round impressions on one side
showed that he had a wooden leg. I could even
tell that they had been disturbed, for the woman
had run back swiftly to the door, as was shown
by the deep toe and light heel marks, while
Wooden-leg had waited a little, and then had
gone away. I thought at the time that this might
be the maid and her sweetheart, of whom you had
already spoken to me, and inquiry showed it was
so. I passed round the garden without seeing
anything more than random tracks, which I took
to be the police; but when I got into the stable
lane a very long and complex story was written
in the snow in front of me.
"There was a double line of tracks of a
booted man, and a second double line which I saw
with delight belonged to a man with naked feet.
I was at once convinced from what you had told
me that the latter was your son. The first had
walked both ways, but the other had run swiftly,
and as his tread was marked in places over the
depression of the boot, it was obvious that he
had passed after the other. I followed them up
and found they led to the hall window, where
Boots had worn all the snow away while waiting.
Then I walked to the other end, which was a
hundred yards or more down the lane. I saw where
Boots had faced round, where the snow was cut up
as though there had been a struggle, and,
finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen,
to show me that I was not mistaken. Boots had
then run down the lane, and another little
smudge of blood showed that it was he who had
been hurt. When he came to the highroad at the
other end, I found that the pavement had been
cleared, so there was an end to that clue.
"On entering the house, however, I examined,
as you remember, the sill and framework of the
hall window with my lens, and I could at once
see that someone had passed out. I could
distinguish the outline of an instep where the
wet foot had been placed in coming in. I was
then beginning to be able to form an opinion as
to what had occurred. A man had waited outside
the window; someone had brought the gems; the
deed had been overseen by your son; he had
pursued the thief; had struggled with him; they
had each tugged at the coronet, their united
strength causing injuries which neither alone
could have effected. He had returned with the
prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of
his opponent. So far I was clear. The question
now was, who was the man and who was it brought
him the coronet?
"It is an old maxim of mine that when you
have excluded the impossible, whatever remains,
however improbable, must be the truth. Now, I
knew that it was not you who had brought it
down, so there only remained your niece and the
maids. But if it were the maids, why should your
son allow himself to be accused in their place?
There could be no possible reason. As he loved
his cousin, however, there was an excellent
explanation why he should retain her secret--the
more so as the secret was a disgraceful one.
When I remembered that you had seen her at that
window, and how she had fainted on seeing the
coronet again, my conjecture became a certainty.
"And who could it be who was her confederate?
A lover evidently, for who else could outweigh
the love and gratitude which she must feel to
you? I knew that you went out little, and that
your circle of friends was a very limited one.
But among them was Sir George Burnwell. I had
heard of him before as being a man of evil
reputation among women. It must have been he who
wore those boots and retained the missing gems.
Even though he knew that Arthur had discovered
him, he might still flatter himself that he was
safe, for the lad could not say a word without
compromising his own family.
"Well, your own good sense will suggest what
measures I took next. I went in the shape of a
loafer to Sir George`s house, managed to pick up
an acquaintance with his valet, learned that his
master had cut his head the night before, and,
finally, at the expense of six shillings, made
all sure by buying a pair of his cast-off shoes.
With these I journeyed down to Streatham and saw
that they exactly fitted the tracks."
"I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane
yesterday evening," said Mr. Holder.
"Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my
man, so I came home and changed my clothes. It
was a delicate part which I had to play then,
for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to
avert scandal, and I knew that so astute a
villain would see that our hands were tied in
the matter. I went and saw him. At first, of
course, he denied everything. But when I gave
him every particular that had occurred, he tried
to bluster and took down a life-preserver from
the wall. I knew my man, however, and I clapped
a pistol to his head before he could strike.
Then he became a little more reasonable. I told
him that we would give him a price for the
stones he held--1000 pounds apiece. That brought
out the first signs of grief that he had shown.
`Why, dash it all!` said he, `I`ve let them go
at six hundred for the three!` I soon managed to
get the address of the receiver who had them, on
promising him that there would be no
prosecution. Off I set to him, and after much
chaffering I got our stones at 1000 pounds
apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him
that all was right, and eventually got to my bed
about two o`clock, after what I may call a
really hard day`s work."
"A day which has saved England from a great
public scandal," said the banker, rising. "Sir,
I cannot find words to thank you, but you shall
not find me ungrateful for what you have done.
Your skill has indeed exceeded all that I have
heard of it. And now I must fly to my dear boy
to apologise to him for the wrong which I have
done him. As to what you tell me of poor Mary,
it goes to my very heart. Not even your skill
can inform me where she is now."
"I think that we may safely say," returned
Holmes, "that she is wherever Sir George
Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that
whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a
more than sufficient punishment."
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THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER
BEECHES
"To the man who loves art for its own sake,"
remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the
advertisement sheet of the Daily Telegraph, "it
is frequently in its least important and
lowliest manifestations that the keenest
pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me
to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped
this truth that in these little records of our
cases which you have been good enough to draw
up, and, I am bound to say, occasionally to
embellish, you have given prominence not so much
to the many causes c鬨bres and sensational
trials in which I have figured but rather to
those incidents which may have been trivial in
themselves, but which have given room for those
faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis
which I have made my special province."
"And yet," said I, smiling, "I cannot quite
hold myself absolved from the charge of
sensationalism which has been urged against my
records."
"You have erred, perhaps," he observed,
taking up a glowing cinder with the tongs and
lighting with it the long cherry-wood pipe which
was wont to replace his clay when he was in a
disputatious rather than a meditative mood--"you
have erred perhaps in attempting to put colour
and life into each of your statements instead of
confining yourself to the task of placing upon
record that severe reasoning from cause to
effect which is really the only notable feature
about the thing."
"It seems to me that I have done you full
justice in the matter," I remarked with some
coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism
which I had more than once observed to be a
strong factor in my friend`s singular character.
"No, it is not selfishness or conceit," said
he, answering, as was his wont, my thoughts
rather than my words. "If I claim full justice
for my art, it is because it is an impersonal
thing--a thing beyond myself. Crime is common.
Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic
rather than upon the crime that you should
dwell. You have degraded what should have been a
course of lectures into a series of tales."
It was a cold morning of the early spring,
and we sat after breakfast on either side of a
cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A
thick fog rolled down between the lines of
dun-coloured houses, and the opposing windows
loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through the
heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shone
on the white cloth and glimmer of china and
metal, for the table had not been cleared yet.
Sherlock Holmes had been silent all the morning,
dipping continuously into the advertisement
columns of a succession of papers until at last,
having apparently given up his search, he had
emerged in no very sweet temper to lecture me
upon my literary shortcomings.
"At the same time," he remarked after a
pause, during which he had sat puffing at his
long pipe and gazing down into the fire, "you
can hardly be open to a charge of
sensationalism, for out of these cases which you
have been so kind as to interest yourself in, a
fair proportion do not treat of crime, in its
legal sense, at all. The small matter in which I
endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the
singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the
problem connected with the man with the twisted
lip, and the incident of the noble bachelor,
were all matters which are outside the pale of
the law. But in avoiding the sensational, I fear
that you may have bordered on the trivial."
"The end may have been so," I answered, "but
the methods I hold to have been novel and of
interest."
"Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public,
the great unobservant public, who could hardly
tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor by
his left thumb, care about the finer shades of
analysis and deduction! But, indeed, if you are
trivial. I cannot blame you, for the days of the
great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal
man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As
to my own little practice, it seems to be
degenerating into an agency for recovering lost
lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies
from boarding-schools. I think that I have
touched bottom at last, however. This note I had
this morning marks my zero-point, I fancy. Read
it!" He tossed a crumpled letter across to me.
It was dated from Montague Place upon the
preceding evening, and ran thus:
"DEAR MR. HOLMES:--I am very anxious to
consult you as to whether I should or should not
accept a situation which has been offered to me
as governess. I shall call at half-past ten
to-morrow if I do not inconvenience you. Yours
faithfully, "VIOLET HUNTER."
"Do you know the young lady?" I asked.
"Not I."
"It is half-past ten now."
"Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring."
"It may turn out to be of more interest than
you think. You remember that the affair of the
blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere whim
at first, developed into a serious
investigation. It may be so in this case, also."
"Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will
very soon be solved, for here, unless I am much
mistaken, is the person in question."
As he spoke the door opened and a young lady
entered the room. She was plainly but neatly
dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled
like a plover`s egg, and with the brisk manner
of a woman who has had her own way to make in
the world.
"You will excuse my troubling you, I am
sure," said she, as my companion rose to greet
her, "but I have had a very strange experience,
and as I have no parents or relations of any
sort from whom I could ask advice, I thought
that perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me
what I should do."
"Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be
happy to do anything that I can to serve you."
I could see that Holmes was favourably
impressed by the manner and speech of his new
client. He looked her over in his searching
fashion, and then composed himself, with his
lids drooping and his finger-tips together, to
listen to her story.
"I have been a governess for five years,"
said she, "in the family of Colonel Spence
Munro, but two months ago the colonel received
an appointment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and
took his children over to America with him, so
that I found myself without a situation. I
advertised, and I answered advertisements, but
without success. At last the little money which
I had saved began to run short, and I was at my
wit`s end as to what I should do.
"There is a well-known agency for governesses
in the West End called Westaway`s, and there I
used to call about once a week in order to see
whether anything had turned up which might suit
me. Westaway was the name of the founder of the
business, but it is really managed by Miss
Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and
the ladies who are seeking employment wait in an
anteroom, and are then shown in one by one, when
she consults her ledgers and sees whether she
has anything which would suit them.
"Well, when I called last week I was shown
into the little office as usual, but I found
that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously
stout man with a very smiling face and a great
heavy chin which rolled down in fold upon fold
over his throat sat at her elbow with a pair of
glasses on his nose, looking very earnestly at
the ladies who entered. As I came in he gave
quite a jump in his chair and turned quickly to
Miss Stoper.
"`That will do,` said he; `I could not ask
for anything better. Capital! capital!` He
seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his hands
together in the most genial fashion. He was such
a comfortable-looking man that it was quite a
pleasure to look at him.
"`You are looking for a situation, miss?` he
asked.
"`Yes, sir.`
"`As governess?`
"`Yes, sir.`
"`And what salary do you ask?`
"`I had 4 pounds a month in my last place
with Colonel Spence Munro.`
"`Oh, tut, tut! sweating--rank sweating!` he
cried, throwing his fat hands out into the air
like a man who is in a boiling passion. `How
could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady
with such attractions and accomplishments?`
"`My accomplishments, sir, may be less than
you imagine,` said I. `A little French, a little
German, music, and drawing--`
"`Tut, tut!` he cried. `This is all quite
beside the question. The point is, have you or
have you not the bearing and deportment of a
lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have
not, you are not fitted for the rearing of a
child who may some day play a considerable part
in the history of the country. But if you have
why, then, how could any gentleman ask you to
condescend to accept anything under the three
figures? Your salary with me, madam, would
commence at 100 pounds a year.`
"You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me,
destitute as I was, such an offer seemed almost
too good to be true. The gentleman, however,
seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my
face, opened a pocket-book and took out a note.
"`It is also my custom,` said he, smiling in
the most pleasant fashion until his eyes were
just two little shining slits amid the white
creases of his face, `to advance to my young
ladies half their salary beforehand, so that
they may meet any little expenses of their
journey and their wardrobe.`
"It seemed to me that I had never met so
fascinating and so thoughtful a man. As I was
already in debt to my tradesmen, the advance was
a great convenience, and yet there was something
unnatural about the whole transaction which made
me wish to know a little more before I quite
committed myself.
"`May I ask where you live, sir?` said I.
"`Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper
Beeches, five miles on the far side of
Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my
dear young lady, and the dearest old
country-house.`
"`And my duties, sir? I should be glad to
know what they would be.`
"`One child--one dear little romper just six
years old. Oh, if you could see him killing
cockroaches with a slipper! Smack! smack! smack!
Three gone before you could wink!` He leaned
back in his chair and laughed his eyes into his
head again.
"I was a little startled at the nature of the
child`s amusement, but the father`s laughter
made me think that perhaps he was joking.
"`My sole duties, then,` I asked, `are to
take charge of a single child?`
"`No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear
young lady,` he cried. `Your duty would be, as I
am sure your good sense would suggest, to obey
any little commands my wife might give, provided
always that they were such commands as a lady
might with propriety obey. You see no
difficulty, heh?`
"`I should be happy to make myself useful.`
"`Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are
faddy people, you know--faddy but kind-hearted.
If you were asked to wear any dress which we
might give you, you would not object to our
little whim. Heh?`
"`No,` said I, considerably astonished at his
words.
"`Or to sit here, or sit there, that would
not be offensive to you?`
"`Oh, no.`
"`Or to cut your hair quite short before you
come to us?`
"I could hardly believe my ears. As you may
observe, Mr. Holmes, my hair is somewhat
luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of
chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I
could not dream of sacrificing it in this
offhand fashion.
"`I am afraid that that is quite impossible,`
said I. He had been watching me eagerly out of
his small eyes, and I could see a shadow pass
over his face as I spoke.
"`I am afraid that it is quite essential,`
said he. `It is a little fancy of my wife`s, and
ladies` fancies, you know, madam, ladies`
fancies must be consulted. And so you won`t cut
your hair?`
"`No, sir, I really could not,` I answered
firmly.
"`Ah, very well; then that quite settles the
matter. It is a pity, because in other respects
you would really have done very nicely. In that
case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more
of your young ladies.`
"The manageress had sat all this while busy
with her papers without a word to either of us,
but she glanced at me now with so much annoyance
upon her face that I could not help suspecting
that she had lost a handsome commission through
my refusal.
"`Do you desire your name to be kept upon the
books?` she asked.
"`If you please, Miss Stoper.`
"`Well, really, it seems rather useless,
since you refuse the most excellent offers in
this fashion,` said she sharply. `You can hardly
expect us to exert ourselves to find another
such opening for you. Good-day to you, Miss
Hunter.` She struck a gong upon the table, and I
was shown out by the page.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my
lodgings and found little enough in the
cupboard, and two or three bills upon the table.
I began to ask myself whether I had not done a
very foolish thing. After all, if these people
had strange fads and expected obedience on the
most extraordinary matters, they were at least
ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few
governesses in England are getting 100 pounds a
year. Besides, what use was my hair to me? Many
people are improved by wearing it short and
perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I
was inclined to think that I had made a mistake,
and by the day after I was sure of it. I had
almost overcome my pride so far as to go back to
the agency and inquire whether the place was
still open when I received this letter from the
gentleman himself. I have it here and I will
read it to you:
"`The Copper Beeches, near
Winchester. "`DEAR MISS HUNTER:--Miss Stoper has
very kindly given me your address, and I write
from here to ask you whether you have
reconsidered your decision. My wife is very
anxious that you should come, for she has been
much attracted by my description of you. We are
willing to give 30 pounds a quarter, or 120
pounds a year, so as to recompense you for any
little inconvenience which our fads may cause
you. They are not very exacting, after all. My
wife is fond of a particular shade of electric
blue and would like you to wear such a dress
indoors in the morning. You need not, however,
go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have
one belonging to my dear daughter Alice (now in
Philadelphia), which would, I should think, fit
you very well. Then, as to sitting here or
there, or amusing yourself in any manner
indicated, that need cause you no inconvenience.
As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity,
especially as I could not help remarking its
beauty during our short interview, but I am
afraid that I must remain firm upon this point,
and I only hope that the increased salary may
recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far
as the child is concerned, are very light. Now
do try to come, and I shall meet you with the
dog-cart at Winchester. Let me know your train.
Yours faithfully, JEPHRO RUCASTLE.`
"That is the letter which I have just
received, Mr. Holmes, and my mind is made up
that I will accept it. I thought, however, that
before taking the final step I should like to
submit the whole matter to your consideration."
"Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up,
that settles the question," said Holmes,
smiling.
"But you would not advise me to refuse?"
"I confess that it is not the situation which
I should like to see a sister of mine apply
for."
"What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?"
"Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps
you have yourself formed some opinion?"
"Well, there seems to me to be only one
possible solution. Mr. Rucastle seemed to be a
very kind, good-natured man. Is it not possible
that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to
keep the matter quiet for fear she should be
taken to an asylum, and that he humours her
fancies in every way in order to prevent an
outbreak?"
"That is a possible solution--in fact, as
matters stand, it is the most probable one. But
in any case it does not seem to be a nice
household for a young lady."
"But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money!"
"Well, yes, of course the pay is good--too
good. That is what makes me uneasy. Why should
they give you 120 pounds a year, when they could
have their pick for 40 pounds? There must be
some strong reason behind."
"I thought that if I told you the
circumstances you would understand afterwards if
I wanted your help. I should feel so much
stronger if I felt that you were at the back of
me."
"Oh, you may carry that feeling away with
you. I assure you that your little problem
promises to be the most interesting which has
come my way for some months. There is something
distinctly novel about some of the features. If
you should find yourself in doubt or in
danger--"
"Danger! What danger do you foresee?"
Holmes shook his head gravely. "It would
cease to be a danger if we could define it,"
said he. "But at any time, day or night, a
telegram would bring me down to your help."
"That is enough." She rose briskly from her
chair with the anxiety all swept from her face.
"I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in my
mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once,
sacrifice my poor hair to-night, and start for
Winchester to-morrow." With a few grateful words
to Holmes she bade us both good-night and
bustled off upon her way.
"At least," said I as we heard her quick,
firm steps descending the stairs, "she seems to
be a young lady who is very well able to take
care of herself."
"And she would need to be," said Holmes
gravely. "I am much mistaken if we do not hear
from her before many days are past."
It was not very long before my friend`s
prediction was fulfilled. A fortnight went by,
during which I frequently found my thoughts
turning in her direction and wondering what
strange side-alley of human experience this
lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual
salary, the curious conditions, the light
duties, all pointed to something abnormal,
though whether a fad or a plot, or whether the
man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was
quite beyond my powers to determine. As to
Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently for
half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an
abstracted air, but he swept the matter away
with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it.
"Data! data! data!" he cried impatiently. "I
can`t make bricks without clay." And yet he
would always wind up by muttering that no sister
of his should ever have accepted such a
situation.
The telegram which we eventually received
came late one night just as I was thinking of
turning in and Holmes was settling down to one
of those all-night chemical researches which he
frequently indulged in, when I would leave him
stooping over a retort and a test-tube at night
and find him in the same position when I came
down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the
yellow envelope, and then, glancing at the
message, threw it across to me.
"Just look up the trains in Bradshaw," said
he, and turned back to his chemical studies.
The summons was a brief and urgent one.
"Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at
Winchester at midday to-morrow," it said. "Do
come! I am at my wit`s end. HUNTER."
"Will you come with me?" asked Holmes,
glancing up.
"I should wish to."
"Just look it up, then."
"There is a train at half-past nine," said I,
glancing over my Bradshaw. "It is due at
Winchester at 11:30."
"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had
better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as
we may need to be at our best in the morning."
By eleven o`clock the next day we were well
upon our way to the old English capital. Holmes
had been buried in the morning papers all the
way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire
border he threw them down and began to admire
the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a light
blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white
clouds drifting across from west to east. The
sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was
an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an
edge to a man`s energy. All over the
countryside, away to the rolling hills around
Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the
farm-steadings peeped out from amid the light
green of the new foliage.
"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried
with all the enthusiasm of a man fresh from the
fogs of Baker Street.
But Holmes shook his head gravely.
"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is
one of the curses of a mind with a turn like
mine that I must look at everything with
reference to my own special subject. You look at
these scattered houses, and you are impressed by
their beauty. I look at them, and the only
thought which comes to me is a feeling of their
isolation and of the impunity with which crime
may be committed there."
"Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate
crime with these dear old homesteads?"
"They always fill me with a certain horror.
It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my
experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in
London do not present a more dreadful record of
sin than does the smiling and beautiful
countryside."
"You horrify me!"
"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure
of public opinion can do in the town what the
law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile
that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud
of a drunkard`s blow, does not beget sympathy
and indignation among the neighbours, and then
the whole machinery of justice is ever so close
that a word of complaint can set it going, and
there is but a step between the crime and the
dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in
its own fields, filled for the most part with
poor ignorant folk who know little of the law.
Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the
hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year
out, in such places, and none the wiser. Had
this lady who appeals to us for help gone to
live in Winchester, I should never have had a
fear for her. It is the five miles of country
which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that
she is not personally threatened."
"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us
she can get away."
"Quite so. She has her freedom."
"What CAN be the matter, then? Can you
suggest no explanation?"
"I have devised seven separate explanations,
each of which would cover the facts as far as we
know them. But which of these is correct can
only be determined by the fresh information
which we shall no doubt find waiting for us.
Well, there is the tower of the cathedral, and
we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to
tell."
The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the
High Street, at no distance from the station,
and there we found the young lady waiting for
us. She had engaged a sitting-room, and our
lunch awaited us upon the table.
"I am so delighted that you have come," she
said earnestly. "It is so very kind of you both;
but indeed I do not know what I should do. Your
advice will be altogether invaluable to me."
"Pray tell us what has happened to you."
"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I
have promised Mr. Rucastle to be back before
three. I got his leave to come into town this
morning, though he little knew for what
purpose."
"Let us have everything in its due order."
Holmes thrust his long thin legs out towards the
fire and composed himself to listen.
"In the first place, I may say that I have
met, on the whole, with no actual ill-treatment
from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to
them to say that. But I cannot understand them,
and I am not easy in my mind about them."
"What can you not understand?"
"Their reasons for their conduct. But you
shall have it all just as it occurred. When I
came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me
in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as
he said, beautifully situated, but it is not
beautiful in itself, for it is a large square
block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained
and streaked with damp and bad weather. There
are grounds round it, woods on three sides, and
on the fourth a field which slopes down to the
Southampton highroad, which curves past about a
hundred yards from the front door. This ground
in front belongs to the house, but the woods all
round are part of Lord Southerton`s preserves. A
clump of copper beeches immediately in front of
the hall door has given its name to the place.
"I was driven over by my employer, who was as
amiable as ever, and was introduced by him that
evening to his wife and the child. There was no
truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which
seemed to us to be probable in your rooms at
Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is not mad. I found
her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much
younger than her husband, not more than thirty,
I should think, while he can hardly be less than
forty-five. From their conversation I have
gathered that they have been married about seven
years, that he was a widower, and that his only
child by the first wife was the daughter who has
gone to Philadelphia. Mr. Rucastle told me in
private that the reason why she had left them
was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her
stepmother. As the daughter could not have been
less than twenty, I can quite imagine that her
position must have been uncomfortable with her
father`s young wife.
"Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless
in mind as well as in feature. She impressed me
neither favourably nor the reverse. She was a
nonentity. It was easy to see that she was
passionately devoted both to her husband and to
her little son. Her light grey eyes wandered
continually from one to the other, noting every
little want and forestalling it if possible. He
was kind to her also in his bluff, boisterous
fashion, and on the whole they seemed to be a
happy couple. And yet she had some secret
sorrow, this woman. She would often be lost in
deep thought, with the saddest look upon her
face. More than once I have surprised her in
tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the
disposition of her child which weighed upon her
mind, for I have never met so utterly spoiled
and so ill-natured a little creature. He is
small for his age, with a head which is quite
disproportionately large. His whole life appears
to be spent in an alternation between savage
fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking.
Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself
seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he
shows quite remarkable talent in planning the
capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But
I would rather not talk about the creature, Mr.
Holmes, and, indeed, he has little to do with my
story."
"I am glad of all details," remarked my
friend, "whether they seem to you to be relevant
or not."
"I shall try not to miss anything of
importance. The one unpleasant thing about the
house, which struck me at once, was the
appearance and conduct of the servants. There
are only two, a man and his wife. Toller, for
that is his name, is a rough, uncouth man, with
grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual
smell of drink. Twice since I have been with
them he has been quite drunk, and yet Mr.
Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. His
wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour
face, as silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less
amiable. They are a most unpleasant couple, but
fortunately I spend most of my time in the
nursery and my own room, which are next to each
other in one corner of the building.
"For two days after my arrival at the Copper
Beeches my life was very quiet; on the third,
Mrs. Rucastle came down just after breakfast and
whispered something to her husband.
"`Oh, yes,` said he, turning to me, `we are
very much obliged to you, Miss Hunter, for
falling in with our whims so far as to cut your
hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in
the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall
now see how the electric-blue dress will become
you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in
your room, and if you would be so good as to put
it on we should both be extremely obliged.`
"The dress which I found waiting for me was
of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of excellent
material, a sort of beige, but it bore
unmistakable signs of having been worn before.
It could not have been a better fit if I had
been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle
expressed a delight at the look of it, which
seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They
were waiting for me in the drawing-room, which
is a very large room, stretching along the
entire front of the house, with three long
windows reaching down to the floor. A chair had
been placed close to the central window, with
its back turned towards it. In this I was asked
to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and
down on the other side of the room, began to
tell me a series of the funniest stories that I
have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how
comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite
weary. Mrs. Rucastle, however, who has evidently
no sense of humour, never so much as smiled, but
sat with her hands in her lap, and a sad,
anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so,
Mr. Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time
to commence the duties of the day, and that I
might change my dress and go to little Edward in
the nursery.
"Two days later this same performance was
gone through under exactly similar
circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I
sat in the window, and again I laughed very
heartily at the funny stories of which my
employer had an immense rй°Ґrtoire, and which he
told inimitably. Then he handed me a
yellow-backed novel, and moving my chair a
little sideways, that my own shadow might not
fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud
to him. I read for about ten minutes, beginning
in the heart of a chapter, and then suddenly, in
the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease
and to change my dress.
"You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how
curious I became as to what the meaning of this
extraordinary performance could possibly be.
They were always very careful, I observed, to
turn my face away from the window, so that I
became consumed with the desire to see what was
going on behind my back. At first it seemed to
be impossible, but I soon devised a means. My
hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought
seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass
in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the
midst of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up
to my eyes, and was able with a little
management to see all that there was behind me.
I confess that I was disappointed. There was
nothing. At least that was my first impression.
At the second glance, however, I perceived that
there was a man standing in the Southampton
Road, a small bearded man in a grey suit, who
seemed to be looking in my direction. The road
is an important highway, and there are usually
people there. This man, however, was leaning
against the railings which bordered our field
and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my
handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to
find her eyes fixed upon me with a most
searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am
convinced that she had divined that I had a
mirror in my hand and had seen what was behind
me. She rose at once.
"`Jephro,` said she, `there is an impertinent
fellow upon the road there who stares up at Miss
Hunter.`
"`No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?` he asked.
"`No, I know no one in these parts.`
"`Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn
round and motion to him to go away.`
"`Surely it would be better to take no
notice.`
"`No, no, we should have him loitering here
always. Kindly turn round and wave him away like
that.`
"I did as I was told, and at the same instant
Mrs. Rucastle drew down the blind. That was a
week ago, and from that time I have not sat
again in the window, nor have I worn the blue
dress, nor seen the man in the road."
"Pray continue," said Holmes. "Your narrative
promises to be a most interesting one."
"You will find it rather disconnected, I
fear, and there may prove to be little relation
between the different incidents of which I
speak. On the very first day that I was at the
Copper Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small
outhouse which stands near the kitchen door. As
we approached it I heard the sharp rattling of a
chain, and the sound as of a large animal moving
about.
"`Look in here!` said Mr. Rucastle, showing
me a slit between two planks. `Is he not a
beauty?`
"I looked through and was conscious of two
glowing eyes, and of a vague figure huddled up
in the darkness.
"`Don`t be frightened,` said my employer,
laughing at the start which I had given. `It`s
only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but
really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who
can do anything with him. We feed him once a
day, and not too much then, so that he is always
as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every
night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays
his fangs upon. For goodness` sake don`t you
ever on any pretext set your foot over the
threshold at night, for it`s as much as your
life is worth.`
"The warning was no idle one, for two nights
later I happened to look out of my bedroom
window about two o`clock in the morning. It was
a beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in
front of the house was silvered over and almost
as bright as day. I was standing, rapt in the
peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware
that something was moving under the shadow of
the copper beeches. As it emerged into the
moonshine I saw what it was. It was a giant dog,
as large as a calf, tawny tinted, with hanging
jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones.
It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished
into the shadow upon the other side. That
dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart which
I do not think that any burglar could have done.
"And now I have a very strange experience to
tell you. I had, as you know, cut off my hair in
London, and I had placed it in a great coil at
the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the
child was in bed, I began to amuse myself by
examining the furniture of my room and by
rearranging my own little things. There was an
old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper
ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I had
filled the first two with my linen, and as I had
still much to pack away I was naturally annoyed
at not having the use of the third drawer. It
struck me that it might have been fastened by a
mere oversight, so I took out my bunch of keys
and tried to open it. The very first key fitted
to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There
was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you
would never guess what it was. It was my coil of
hair.
"I took it up and examined it. It was of the
same peculiar tint, and the same thickness. But
then the impossibility of the thing obtruded
itself upon me. How could my hair have been
locked in the drawer? With trembling hands I
undid my trunk, turned out the contents, and
drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two
tresses together, and I assure you that they
were identical. Was it not extraordinary? Puzzle
as I would, I could make nothing at all of what
it meant. I returned the strange hair to the
drawer, and I said nothing of the matter to the
Rucastles as I felt that I had put myself in the
wrong by opening a drawer which they had locked.
"I am naturally observant, as you may have
remarked, Mr. Holmes, and I soon had a pretty
good plan of the whole house in my head. There
was one wing, however, which appeared not to be
inhabited at all. A door which faced that which
led into the quarters of the Tollers opened into
this suite, but it was invariably locked. One
day, however, as I ascended the stair, I met Mr.
Rucastle coming out through this door, his keys
in his hand, and a look on his face which made
him a very different person to the round, jovial
man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were
red, his brow was all crinkled with anger, and
the veins stood out at his temples with passion.
He locked the door and hurried past me without a
word or a look.
"This aroused my curiosity, so when I went
out for a walk in the grounds with my charge, I
strolled round to the side from which I could
see the windows of this part of the house. There
were four of them in a row, three of which were
simply dirty, while the fourth was shuttered up.
They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled
up and down, glancing at them occasionally, Mr.
Rucastle came out to me, looking as merry and
jovial as ever.
"`Ah!` said he, `you must not think me rude
if I passed you without a word, my dear young
lady. I was preoccupied with business matters.`
"I assured him that I was not offended. `By
the way,` said I, `you seem to have quite a
suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them
has the shutters up.`
"He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me,
a little startled at my remark.
"`Photography is one of my hobbies,` said he.
`I have made my dark room up there. But, dear
me! what an observant young lady we have come
upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have
ever believed it?` He spoke in a jesting tone,
but there was no jest in his eyes as he looked
at me. I read suspicion there and annoyance, but
no jest.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I
understood that there was something about that
suite of rooms which I was not to know, I was
all on fire to go over them. It was not mere
curiosity, though I have my share of that. It
was more a feeling of duty--a feeling that some
good might come from my penetrating to this
place. They talk of woman`s instinct; perhaps it
was woman`s instinct which gave me that feeling.
At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly on
the lookout for any chance to pass the forbidden
door.
"It was only yesterday that the chance came.
I may tell you that, besides Mr. Rucastle, both
Toller and his wife find something to do in
these deserted rooms, and I once saw him
carrying a large black linen bag with him
through the door. Recently he has been drinking
hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk;
and when I came upstairs there was the key in
the door. I have no doubt at all that he had
left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were both
downstairs, and the child was with them, so that
I had an admirable opportunity. I turned the key
gently in the lock, opened the door, and slipped
through.
"There was a little passage in front of me,
unpapered and uncarpeted, which turned at a
right angle at the farther end. Round this
corner were three doors in a line, the first and
third of which were open. They each led into an
empty room, dusty and cheerless, with two
windows in the one and one in the other, so
thick with dirt that the evening light glimmered
dimly through them. The centre door was closed,
and across the outside of it had been fastened
one of the broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked
at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened
at the other with stout cord. The door itself
was locked as well, and the key was not there.
This barricaded door corresponded clearly with
the shuttered window outside, and yet I could
see by the glimmer from beneath it that the room
was not in darkness. Evidently there was a
skylight which let in light from above. As I
stood in the passage gazing at the sinister door
and wondering what secret it might veil, I
suddenly heard the sound of steps within the
room and saw a shadow pass backward and forward
against the little slit of dim light which shone
out from under the door. A mad, unreasoning
terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. Holmes.
My overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I
turned and ran--ran as though some dreadful hand
were behind me clutching at the skirt of my
dress. I rushed down the passage, through the
door, and straight into the arms of Mr.
Rucastle, who was waiting outside.
"`So,` said he, smiling, `it was you, then. I
thought that it must be when I saw the door
open.`
"`Oh, I am so frightened!` I panted.
"`My dear young lady! my dear young
lady!`--you cannot think how caressing and
soothing his manner was--`and what has
frightened you, my dear young lady?`
"But his voice was just a little too coaxing.
He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard against
him.
"`I was foolish enough to go into the empty
wing,` I answered. `But it is so lonely and
eerie in this dim light that I was frightened
and ran out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still
in there!`
"`Only that?` said he, looking at me keenly.
"`Why, what did you think?` I asked.
"`Why do you think that I lock this door?`
"`I am sure that I do not know.`
"`It is to keep people out who have no
business there. Do you see?` He was still
smiling in the most amiable manner.
"`I am sure if I had known--`
"`Well, then, you know now. And if you ever
put your foot over that threshold again`--here
in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of
rage, and he glared down at me with the face of
a demon--`I`ll throw you to the mastiff.`
"I was so terrified that I do not know what I
did. I suppose that I must have rushed past him
into my room. I remember nothing until I found
myself lying on my bed trembling all over. Then
I thought of you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live
there longer without some advice. I was
frightened of the house, of the man, of the
woman, of the servants, even of the child. They
were all horrible to me. If I could only bring
you down all would be well. Of course I might
have fled from the house, but my curiosity was
almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon
made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my
hat and cloak, went down to the office, which is
about half a mile from the house, and then
returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible
doubt came into my mind as I approached the door
lest the dog might be loose, but I remembered
that Toller had drunk himself into a state of
insensibility that evening, and I knew that he
was the only one in the household who had any
influence with the savage creature, or who would
venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety
and lay awake half the night in my joy at the
thought of seeing you. I had no difficulty in
getting leave to come into Winchester this
morning, but I must be back before three
o`clock, for Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are going on
a visit, and will be away all the evening, so
that I must look after the child. Now I have
told you all my adventures, Mr. Holmes, and I
should be very glad if you could tell me what it
all means, and, above all, what I should do."
Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this
extraordinary story. My friend rose now and
paced up and down the room, his hands in his
pockets, and an expression of the most profound
gravity upon his face.
"Is Toller still drunk?" he asked.
"Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle
that she could do nothing with him."
"That is well. And the Rucastles go out
to-night?"
"Yes."
"Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?"
"Yes, the wine-cellar."
"You seem to me to have acted all through
this matter like a very brave and sensible girl,
Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could perform
one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I
did not think you a quite exceptional woman."
"I will try. What is it?"
"We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven
o`clock, my friend and I. The Rucastles will be
gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be
incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who
might give the alarm. If you could send her into
the cellar on some errand, and then turn the key
upon her, you would facilitate matters
immensely."
"I will do it."
"Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly
into the affair. Of course there is only one
feasible explanation. You have been brought
there to personate someone, and the real person
is imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious.
As to who this prisoner is, I have no doubt that
it is the daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle, if I
remember right, who was said to have gone to
America. You were chosen, doubtless, as
resembling her in height, figure, and the colour
of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very
possibly in some illness through which she has
passed, and so, of course, yours had to be
sacrificed also. By a curious chance you came
upon her tresses. The man in the road was
undoubtedly some friend of hers--possibly her
fiancйand no doubt, as you wore the girl`s
dress and were so like her, he was convinced
from your laughter, whenever he saw you, and
afterwards from your gesture, that Miss Rucastle
was perfectly happy, and that she no longer
desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at
night to prevent him from endeavouring to
communicate with her. So much is fairly clear.
The most serious point in the case is the
disposition of the child."
"What on earth has that to do with it?" I
ejaculated.
"My dear Watson, you as a medical man are
continually gaining light as to the tendencies
of a child by the study of the parents. Don`t
you see that the converse is equally valid. I
have frequently gained my first real insight
into the character of parents by studying their
children. This child`s disposition is abnormally
cruel, merely for cruelty`s sake, and whether he
derives this from his smiling father, as I
should suspect, or from his mother, it bodes
evil for the poor girl who is in their power."
"I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes,"
cried our client. "A thousand things come back
to me which make me certain that you have hit
it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing
help to this poor creature."
"We must be circumspect, for we are dealing
with a very cunning man. We can do nothing until
seven o`clock. At that hour we shall be with
you, and it will not be long before we solve the
mystery."
We were as good as our word, for it was just
seven when we reached the Copper Beeches, having
put up our trap at a wayside public-house. The
group of trees, with their dark leaves shining
like burnished metal in the light of the setting
sun, were sufficient to mark the house even had
Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the
door-step.
"Have you managed it?" asked Holmes.
A loud thudding noise came from somewhere
downstairs. "That is Mrs. Toller in the cellar,"
said she. "Her husband lies snoring on the
kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the
duplicates of Mr. Rucastle`s."
"You have done well indeed!" cried Holmes
with enthusiasm. "Now lead the way, and we shall
soon see the end of this black business."
We passed up the stair, unlocked the door,
followed on down a passage, and found ourselves
in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had
described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the
transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys
in the lock, but without success. No sound came
from within, and at the silence Holmes` face
clouded over.
"I trust that we are not too late," said he.
"I think, Miss Hunter, that we had better go in
without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder to
it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our
way in."
It was an old rickety door and gave at once
before our united strength. Together we rushed
into the room. It was empty. There was no
furniture save a little pallet bed, a small
table, and a basketful of linen. The skylight
above was open, and the prisoner gone.
"There has been some villainy here," said
Holmes; "this beauty has guessed Miss Hunter`s
intentions and has carried his victim off."
"But how?"
"Through the skylight. We shall soon see how
he managed it." He swung himself up onto the
roof. "Ah, yes," he cried, "here`s the end of a
long light ladder against the eaves. That is how
he did it."
"But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter;
"the ladder was not there when the Rucastles
went away."
"He has come back and done it. I tell you
that he is a clever and dangerous man. I should
not be very much surprised if this were he whose
step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson,
that it would be as well for you to have your
pistol ready."
The words were hardly out of his mouth before
a man appeared at the door of the room, a very
fat and burly man, with a heavy stick in his
hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against
the wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock
Holmes sprang forward and confronted him.
"You villain!" said he, "where`s your
daughter?"
The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up
at the open skylight.
"It is for me to ask you that," he shrieked,
"you thieves! Spies and thieves! I have caught
you, have I? You are in my power. I`ll serve
you!" He turned and clattered down the stairs as
hard as he could go.
"He`s gone for the dog!" cried Miss Hunter.
"I have my revolver," said I.
"Better close the front door," cried Holmes,
and we all rushed down the stairs together. We
had hardly reached the hall when we heard the
baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony,
with a horrible worrying sound which it was
dreadful to listen to. An elderly man with a red
face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a
side door.
"My God!" he cried. "Someone has loosed the
dog. It`s not been fed for two days. Quick,
quick, or it`ll be too late!"
Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle
of the house, with Toller hurrying behind us.
There was the huge famished brute, its black
muzzle buried in Rucastle`s throat, while he
writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running
up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over with
its keen white teeth still meeting in the great
creases of his neck. With much labour we
separated them and carried him, living but
horribly mangled, into the house. We laid him
upon the drawing-room sofa, and having
dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news
to his wife, I did what I could to relieve his
pain. We were all assembled round him when the
door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the
room.
"Mrs. Toller!" cried Miss Hunter.
"Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he
came back before he went up to you. Ah, miss, it
is a pity you didn`t let me know what you were
planning, for I would have told you that your
pains were wasted."
"Ha!" said Holmes, looking keenly at her. "It
is clear that Mrs. Toller knows more about this
matter than anyone else."
"Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to
tell what I know."
"Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for
there are several points on which I must confess
that I am still in the dark."
"I will soon make it clear to you," said she;
"and I`d have done so before now if I could ha`
got out from the cellar. If there`s police-court
business over this, you`ll remember that I was
the one that stood your friend, and that I was
Miss Alice`s friend too.
"She was never happy at home, Miss Alice
wasn`t, from the time that her father married
again. She was slighted like and had no say in
anything, but it never really became bad for her
until after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend`s
house. As well as I could learn, Miss Alice had
rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet
and patient, she was, that she never said a word
about them but just left everything in Mr.
Rucastle`s hands. He knew he was safe with her;
but when there was a chance of a husband coming
forward, who would ask for all that the law
would give him, then her father thought it time
to put a stop on it. He wanted her to sign a
paper, so that whether she married or not, he
could use her money. When she wouldn`t do it, he
kept on worrying her until she got brain-fever,
and for six weeks was at death`s door. Then she
got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and
with her beautiful hair cut off; but that didn`t
make no change in her young man, and he stuck to
her as true as man could be."
"Ah," said Holmes, "I think that what you
have been good enough to tell us makes the
matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all
that remains. Mr. Rucastle then, I presume, took
to this system of imprisonment?"
"Yes, sir."
"And brought Miss Hunter down from London in
order to get rid of the disagreeable persistence
of Mr. Fowler."
"That was it, sir."
"But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a
good seaman should be, blockaded the house, and
having met you succeeded by certain arguments,
metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that
your interests were the same as his."
"Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken,
free-handed gentleman," said Mrs. Toller
serenely.
"And in this way he managed that your good
man should have no want of drink, and that a
ladder should be ready at the moment when your
master had gone out."
"You have it, sir, just as it happened."
"I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs.
Toller," said Holmes, "for you have certainly
cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here
comes the country surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so
I think, Watson, that we had best escort Miss
Hunter back to Winchester, as it seems to me
that our locus standi now is rather a
questionable one."
And thus was solved the mystery of the
sinister house with the copper beeches in front
of the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but was
always a broken man, kept alive solely through
the care of his devoted wife. They still live
with their old servants, who probably know so
much of Rucastle`s past life that he finds it
difficult to part from them. Mr. Fowler and Miss
Rucastle were married, by special license, in
Southampton the day after their flight, and he
is now the holder of a government appointment in
the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet
Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my
disappointment, manifested no further interest
in her when once she had ceased to be the centre
of one of his problems, and she is now the head
of a private school at Walsall, where I believe
that she has met with considerable success.
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